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prythianpages · 3 days ago

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Just A Fool | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | Eris has a meeting with the Night Court's astrologer but when he enters the observatory he finds you instead. He's captivated by you and can't bring himself to understand why...until the bond snaps.

warnings: reader being delulu, mild angst (I think)

word count: 2,667

a/n: Surprise, surprise, I simply can't write one-shots! Though this can be read as a stand alone fic, it is based off of this one and takes place before. Azriel is not in this part himself but he is mentioned. Since this is in Eris's pov, I wrote it it in third person to make it easier.

Eris stepped into the observatory, the door gliding open with a quiet hiss. The room was large and spacious, his boots echoing against the smooth, polished floors. Despite himself, he begrudgingly admitted that the Night Court’s observatory was a masterpiece.

A dome of crystalline glass stretched above, revealing all the beauty the Night Court’s sky had to behold. Constellations glimmered and moonlight filtered through the room, casting a silver glow over the telescopes, charts and shelves lined with celestial tomes.

But it wasn’t the architecture that made his breath hitch and muscles tense.

A female sat curled on a velvet loveseat, her knees drawn up, and a journal braced against them as she wrote. Her head was bent in concentration, her hair falling like a curtain of shadow around her face. She hadn’t noticed him yet, and Eris let her ignorance linger. He watched her silently, taking in every detail he could for a moment longer, unaware of the weight of fate looming over his shoulder.

The dark purple dress she wore was simple yet elegant and the opal pendant that hung around her neck twinkled like starlight against her skin. Eris was certain she was not part of Rhysand’s inner circle—he would have known if she were. And to his knowledge, Keir had no other daughter aside from Mor.

Yet, the ease with which she carried herself in the room, it was as though she belonged there. She must come from a noble family but even then, the question as to why she was here still remained. Especially when he had a meeting with the Night Court’s astrologer. Had this female dared to sneak into the observatory? And how had she not heard his footsteps?

Foolish. Reckless.

And yet, Eris couldn’t deny the curiosity that tugged at him as he took a step closer, something foreign beginning to simmer in his chest.

When the door finally clicked shut, however, she flinched, her head snapping up. Wide eyes locked onto his, and the centuries of practiced composure could not hold him back, his body jerking upright. They stared at one another, the silence between them taut as a bowstring.

Her journal slipped from her lap, landing with a thud as she stood hastily. A flicker of panic crossed her face that was quickly replaced by a guarded expression. It was then that he concluded she had, in fact, dared to sneak in here.

Eris noted the slight flush on her cheeks and the way her fingers twitched. It was as if she were resisting the urge to snatch up the fallen book in fear of turning her eyes away from him.

He moved forward, each step deliberate, the measured thud of his boots filling the space between them. His amber eyes roamed her, unhurried. His lips curved faintly, a teasing spark lighting his gaze.

“Well, I was expecting someone much taller, older, and wiser...”

The female stiffened, her gaze darting to the journal on the floor, then back to him. Eris caught the motion. “What? Cat’s got your tongue?”

Her jaw tightened, but her voice was steady when she finally spoke. “If it is Lord Damus you seek, that is my father. He should be here shortly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right out of your way…”

She stepped toward the journal, her intention clear. But Eris was faster and intent on keeping her with him for longer. A flick of his wrist and the journal flew to his hand, carried by a golden thread of flame. He thumbed the worn cover, glancing down at it with mock intrigue.

“A diary?” he teased, a laugh dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked to hers. “What are you, a child?”

“Give that back,” she snapped, fire sparking in her eyes as she took a step closer.

Eris arched a brow, surprised by the boldness in her tone. The spark in her gaze sent a thrill through him, a pull he couldn’t quite place. He wasn’t one to concern himself with trivialities like this, and yet…

“No,” he replied simply, effortlessly stepping away from her poor attempt to reach him.

When she tried again, he lifted his hand, a flicker of flames dancing at his fingertips in warning. “What secrets could a Night Court female like you possibly be hiding in here? Some scandalous account of a rival’s terrible choice in gowns? Or some torrid tale of unrequited love among the court?”

His gaze dropped to the page she had left open. He should’ve let her leave. The meeting with her father was much more important than reading her diary but he was now curious about her. And even more curious to know what she had been so entranced by, enough to have not noticed his entrance.

Eris’s eyes scanned the elegant script, and his smirk deepened. “‘I love everything about him. Not in the way of soft, fleeting things, but in the way stars burn eternal. Steady and unwavering.”

He paused to glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed now but her eyes didn’t waver. There was a defiance in her gaze, even as her lips pressed into a tight line.

Eris’s attention returned to the page, a strange tightening in his chest. He hadn’t expected such emotion from her words and though he couldn’t understand why, it seemed to unsettle him.

“I love the way his eyes, the warmest shade of hazel, hold my heart every time he looks at me, the way his gaze softens. Or the way his shadows linger just a heartbeat longer around me. I wonder if they whisper my name when I’m not near…”

And then he saw it.

A name. Scribbled in a flourish of ink beside what he assumed was hers and framed by a heart. His chest tightened further, this time with something sharper, darker. He knew that name. All too well.

The flame at his fingertips extinguished as his hand fell to his side. He turned to her, his amber eyes blazing, his jaw set.

It should have been trivial. He had hoped for something inconsequential, a petty grievance or a noblewoman’s idle musings. Anything that he could dismiss with a smirk and leave behind without a second thought. Anything–anyone– but him.

Instead, her words tugged at something buried. A tether that always seemed to lead back to that wretched shadowsinger. That damned Illyrian who haunted his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

Eris didn’t understand it and was unsure he wanted to. He was unsure if he even wanted to understand the female before him but he couldn’t bring himself to turn away from her.

So he allowed his disbelief to take over and settled on what he was familiar with.

“What a pity,” Eris said, his voice quieter but no less cutting. “That someone like you would stoop so low and waste such beautiful words on a bastard like him.”

“You don’t know anything about him,” she replied briskly and then as an afterthought, added, “or me.”

Eris laughed, the sound sharp and incredulous. “Don’t I?” He said, waving the leather journal tauntingly. The reaction she gave was almost amusing—almost. It wasn’t the insult he’d thrown at her that provoked such defensiveness, but the one aimed at him. Her precious shadowsinger.

“I think I’ve learned plenty. Enough to know you are a delusional fool. Or perhaps…”

He stepped forward leisurely, his hands crossing behind his back, like a predator savoring the chase. For every step he took towards her, she took a step back, her breath catching in her throat. He tilted his head, the amused smirk never leaving his face. He took note of the way she tried to steady her breathing. And though he thought her a fool, at least she wasn’t foolish enough to pretend she didn’t feel it. The power humming in the air around him, coiling like fire beneath his skin.

The floor illuminated beneath her weight as she stepped into the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. Eris continued until he had her trapped, her back pressed against the small table in the center of the room that held up a glowing, golden globe. He was on her then, close enough that the heat of him seemed to reach out and curl around her.

She stiffened as he leaned in and then, as if it were his right, he reached out and tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her gaze to meet his. His amber eyes swept over her face, mockingly intent.

But when his eyes met hers, the simmering in his chest flared, growing hotter with each passing heartbeat. He brushed it aside, too caught up in the thrill of provoking her to give it any real thought.

“Perhaps, you’re unwell?” he asked, his voice dripping with condescension. “You must’ve taken a fall recently, or been struck on the head as a child? I can’t imagine any other explanation for…”

His voice had trailed off. Now that he was up close, her scent of night blooming flowers–phlox– and amber teased at his senses. It wanted to wrap around him, lure him in. He released his hold on her, reigning in the flare of heat that surged through him. He masked the effect she had on him with a lazy wave of his hand toward the journal he still held. “…this.”

Her brows furrowed, her glare sharp enough to cut. She snatched her journal back from him with such fury he had to bite back a laugh. “I am perfectly well.”

Eris gave a grimace of resigned disbelief. “Just a fool then.”

“Tell me,” he continued, voice rich with feigned curiosity, “does he truly look your way? Or are you merely another shadow to him? Rumor has it he’s quite taken with a certain lovely, cauldron-turned fae... Oh, forgive me, my lady, did I strike a nerve?”

Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the journal tightly to her chest, shielding it as if it could protect her from the sting of his words. But there was fire in her eyes that only intrigued him further.

“He’ll soon realize that she’s not the one for him.”

“Will he? And what makes you so certain? Do you think yourself his destiny? If that’s the case, then I have quite the–”

“Crushes come and go but love stays,” she interrupted him, voice firm. She then looked up towards the domed ceiling. Her voice softened, a wistfulness creeping into her words. “And the stars and the planets, they never lie.”

The floor glowed brighter, the engraved markings on the zodiac wheel shifting with a series of clicks. From the center, a galaxy unfurled, its planets and constellations rising and floating into the air. They remained suspended in a tentative dance, awaiting an order.

An inexplicable flutter tore through his chest as he watched her expression ease at the sight above, a tender gleam in her eyes.

“It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To see where the planets align for you. To discover if the stars favor your path, if there’s any certainty to be found. To gather hope and dare to dream.”

Eris’s smirk faltered for a split second, his amber eyes narrowing. He quickly masked the slight discomfort, his expression returning to one of controlled indifference. “It sounds like you’re stuck in a dream yourself. One that will be harsh to wake up from.”

But his sharp words didn’t land as he expected. She didn’t flinch or glare back at him. Instead, she smiled at him. A smile that was so sure, so knowing. It truly made him question her sanity.

“Azriel may hold affection for her now, but he’ll love me. One day, he’ll see it. Just as clearly as I do.”

Eris could only stare at her. The certainty in her words, the unwavering belief in some twisted fate. It was maddening. She was maddening. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to continue to laugh at her naivety or… believe her.

Because she was right. He had come to Lord Damus for guidance. In a world as precarious as his, he yearned for a semblance of certainty. He wanted to hope, wanted to dream. Something to cling on to, to help him carry the weight of his burdens.

Her words lingered in the air between them, heavy and determined.

And then, as if the universe itself had conspired to provoke him further, it happened.

The world seemed to tilt beneath his feet. The edges of the room blurred, melting into golden and white light. All he could see was her. The female whose eyes reflected the endless stars above, whose words burned like a flame deep in his chest.

That simmering sensation in his chest flared again, too scorching to ignore any longer. The fire coursing through his veins roared to life, surging toward her as if recognizing its other half. His other half.

Mate.

The female standing before him, all defying words and starry wit, was his.

And she was in love with someone else.

“Cauldron above,” he cursed, his voice a low murmur. He took a step back, still reeling but forcing his composure to hold.

The sound of the door to the observatory opening snapped him out of his trance. He quickly distanced himself, needing space to regain full control.

“Lord Eris, forgive me if you’ve been waiting–what are you doing here?”

“Oh,” the female–his mate–breathed and he could feel the way her heart quickened. “I was just dusting off the shelves here, father.”

Lord Damus approached a shelf, dragging his finger along the surface. His gaze narrowed, as if sensing dust. The faintest glimmer of energy rippled in the air, imperceptible to most, but Eris saw it settle. It was, after all, his magic.

When Lord Damus raised his finger to inspect it, there was not a speck to be found. A thoughtful hum escaped him, and Eris felt her relax, even if only slightly.

“You may leave now.” Lord Damus said to her, dismissing her as if she were a servant and not his daughter.

“Yes, father.” She politely replied, bowing her head toward him before reluctantly turning to Eris. She hastily did the same, her eyes briefly meeting his once more before she hurried out of the room.

Eris watched her leave, fighting the threat of emotions swirling him. It wasn’t until the door finally clicked shut that he exhaled. As if some weight had been lifted. Though, it didn’t feel any lighter.

“Please, have a seat.” Lord Damus's voice interrupted, pulling Eris from his thoughts.

The Night Court astrologer gestured for Eris to take a seat where she had been previously sitting. But Eris couldn’t bring himself to move. He couldn’t sit there, knowing her scent still lingered.

“Forgive me, Lord Damus, but I need to reschedule.”

“But you’ve come all this way already…,” Lord Damus’s brows furrowed. “Did my daughter say something to you? Allow me to apologize on her behalf. She can be quite unnerving–that one.”

“No, not at all.” Eris lied smoothly. He lifted his hand, and a small note appeared, perched between his fingers. Flames erupted from the edges, quickly eating away at the note until it was reduced to ashes in his palm. “Something has suddenly come up in my court that requires immediate attention.”

Lord Damus considered this, his eyes narrowing as if contemplating the words. Finally, he gave a short nod. “Very well, then. We can reschedule for another time.”

Eris didn’t wait for another word. In the blink of an eye, he was gone. He winnowed directly to his room. Only then did he let his mask slip. Images of her flooded his mind and he braced himself against his bed post with one hand. His other hand clutched at his chest where the emotions were scorching, the fire there forging the threads of fate.

He lifted his gaze, his eyes landing on his own reflection. Eris had called her–his mate–a fool. Yet, as he stood before himself, he realized a bitter truth...

He was the greatest fool of all.

[series masterlist]

A/n: the next part in this au will be some fluff between Az & you 🫶🏽 that takes place after Hopelessly Devoted.

series tag list: @kaitttttttt , @nebarious , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @justyouraveragekleemain , @tothestarsandwhateverend ,

@ratgirl2020 , @myromanempiree , @vanserrasimp , @itsswritten , @acourtofbatboydreams

@imjustagirl713, @paleidiot, @scarsandallaz

if you asked to be put on the tag-list and don't see your username, please remind me!

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

#eris x reader #azriel x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #eris fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel x you #hopelessly devoted eris

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magical-reid · 1 day ago

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The Rings We Keep Part 2

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!FBI!Reader

Genre: fluff

Content warnings: none

Word count: 2.2K

Part 1

Two months had passed since the case ended, your team was spending more and more time assisting the BAU with their cases, and you were still adjusting to being known as Mrs. Reid. The BAU’s teasing had mostly subsided, but Penelope couldn’t help herself, sending you daily texts with variations of “How’s married life treating you, sugarplum?”

Spencer, of course, was blissfully oblivious to half the jokes. You envied his ability to compartmentalize. For you, the line between personal and professional felt increasingly blurred—especially when you came home to find him sitting on your couch, flipping through one of your dog-eared mystery novels like he belonged there.

“Hey,” you greeted, setting your go-bag on the floor.

“Hey,” he replied without looking up. “Your landlord called earlier. The leak in your bathroom should be fixed tomorrow.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, thanks?”

Spencer finally glanced up, his expression innocent. “It’s easier if they call me. You don’t always answer your phone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Easier, huh?”

He shrugged. “Legally, I’m your emergency contact. Makes sense.”

Your chest tightened a mix of irritation and something warmer that you weren’t ready to name. Spencer had a way of making the most unconventional things seem logical—like casually fixing your plumbing situation as if it were just another bullet point on his to-do list.

You crossed the room, plopping onto the couch beside him. “You know this is weird, right?”

“What is?”

“This,” you gestured between the two of you. “Being married but… not married.”

Spencer tilted his head, considering your words. “It’s unconventional, sure. But it’s not weird. We work well together.”

“That’s not exactly the foundation of a marriage,” you pointed out, though your tone lacked bite. “Shouldn’t we—I don’t know—try to figure out what this actually is?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed. “You mean, like dating?”

The word hung in the air between you, heavy and full of possibility.

“Maybe,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm. “I mean, it might help. Get to know each other outside of work. Outside of… whatever this is.”

Spencer nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “That’s logical. We could schedule something.”

“Schedule?” You laughed, the sound half nervous, half amused. “Spence, you don’t schedule a date. You just… go.”

His lips quirked in a small, sheepish smile. “Right. Of course.”

The First Date

Three days later, you found yourself sitting across from Spencer at a cozy little café near the library. He’d insisted on picking the place, and you hadn’t protested—it was quiet, intimate, and felt like him.

“I, um, wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered a variety,” Spencer said, gesturing to the spread of pastries between you. “There’s a 73% chance one of these is your favorite.”

You bit back a smile, reaching for a chocolate croissant. “Good guess.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, and you realized he’d been nervous—an unusual look for someone so confident in every other aspect of his life.

“So,” you began, tearing off a piece of croissant. “Do we talk about work, or is that off-limits?”

Spencer shook his head. “It’s not off-limits, but we could talk about other things. Like… hobbies.”

“Hobbies,” you repeated, amused. “You mean like your extensive knowledge of obscure trivia?”

“Or your knack for solving puzzles,” he countered, a rare teasing tone in his voice.

You laughed, the sound drawing a faint smile from him. For the first time, the awkwardness began to fade, replaced by something warmer—something that felt almost like normalcy.

Navigating New Territory

Over the next few weeks, your dynamic shifted in subtle but undeniable ways. Spencer started leaving his favorite books on your nightstand, claiming they were “better than the ones you usually read.” You, in turn, introduced him to your guilty pleasure TV shows, relishing the way he tried (and failed) to resist getting invested in the drama.

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing.

One evening, as you cooked dinner together—a rare occurrence, considering your busy schedules—Spencer reached for the salt just as you turned to grab a spoon. The collision was minor, but it left you both frozen, faces inches apart.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, stepping back quickly.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed. “No, it was my fault.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension. You busied yourself stirring the sauce, your mind racing. Was this what it felt like to be in a real marriage? The constant push and pull of closeness and uncertainty?

“I’ve been reading about communication in relationships,” Spencer said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “Of course you have.”

“It says physical proximity is important,” he continued, his tone serious. “Small gestures, like holding hands, can build intimacy.”

You stared at him, torn between exasperation and affection. “Spence, are you saying we should hold hands more?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “It might help.”

You sighed, setting down the spoon. “Alright. Let’s try it.”

Tentatively, you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. His skin was warm, his grip firm but careful.

“How’s this?” you asked, half-joking.

Spencer’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you.

“Good,” he said softly. “It’s… good.”

A Step Forward

One night, after a particularly grueling case, you found yourself leaning against Spencer on the couch, too tired to care about boundaries. His arm was draped around your shoulders, and you realized with a start that it felt… nice. Comforting.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

“Yeah,” you murmured, closing your eyes. “Just tired.”

He didn’t move, didn’t press for more. Instead, he simply held you, his presence steady and reassuring.

In that moment, you realized something had shifted—not just between you, but within you. This wasn’t just a marriage of convenience anymore. It was becoming something real, something worth fighting for.

And as you drifted off to sleep, Spencer’s voice echoed softly in your mind.

“I’ve got you.”

You believed him.

The Unspoken Shift

It was late one night when the shift finally happened when everything you and Spencer had been tiptoeing around finally came to a head. The case had been grueling—intense, dangerous—but in the end, the team had solved it. The adrenaline had faded, leaving an unfamiliar silence in its wake.

You were sitting on the couch in your small apartment, your mind still racing from the day’s events. You’d barely had time to think about anything beyond work in the past few weeks, but now, with the threat neutralized, everything came rushing back.

Spencer, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected by the chaos. He was curled up in the armchair across from you, his laptop open in front of him, but his eyes weren’t on the screen. He kept glancing over at you, his face unreadable, as if there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how to say it.

It was in moments like this that you found yourself wondering what this was between you—this odd marriage of convenience that had slowly morphed into something you couldn’t quite define.

We work well together, Spencer had said once, so casually that it hadn’t quite clicked at the time. Now, though, as you caught him looking at you again—this time with a sort of tenderness that made your heart skip a beat—you wondered if he meant more than just work.

You shifted on the couch, trying to distract yourself. You couldn’t allow yourself to think too deeply, not with everything that was still unresolved. But Spencer’s voice cut through the silence.

"Y/N, I... I think I need to apologize."

You froze, unsure if you had heard him correctly. "Apologize? For what?"

He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keys of his laptop, but he didn’t look at the screen. Instead, his gaze lingered on you, serious and a little vulnerable. "For... for how distant I’ve been. I know I’ve been focused on the cases and... well, on myself too much." His lips tightened, as if he regretted the words before they even left his mouth. "I’ve been pushing you away without even realizing it. And I’m sorry."

You blinked, taken aback by his honesty. Spencer was never one to admit when he was wrong. He was always so logical, so composed. But tonight, something was different. There was a rawness in his voice that made your chest tighten, and you realized with a jolt that maybe you had been pushing him away too.

"You haven’t been distant, Spence," you said softly. "You’ve just been... you." The words felt heavier than you intended, but it was the truth. Spencer had always been focused, and driven, and even when he was there, he seemed so far away, locked in his own world.

"I know," he said, his voice low. "But that’s not an excuse. I—I should have been there more for you. You’ve been doing this alone, and that’s not fair."

You stared at him, processing what he had just said. Spencer Reid, always so sure of his intelligence and his work, was admitting—without words—that he wasn’t sure how to be a partner in this unconventional marriage. And as much as you wanted to brush it off, you couldn’t. You had been struggling with the same doubts.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” you said quietly, motioning between the two of you. “This whole… marriage thing. It’s not what I expected, either. But that doesn’t mean I’m not trying.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, his expression vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before. “I know you are,” he said. “And that’s why I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t know what this is, but... I don’t want to lose it.”

There was a long pause as you both let the words settle. You felt the weight of everything that had been building up—the awkward moments, the shared glances, the near-kisses that you’d both avoided. But in that moment, you realized something: you didn’t want to keep avoiding it.

“I don’t want to lose it either,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Spencer inhaled deeply, his hand moving hesitantly toward yours. When his fingers brushed against yours, your pulse quickened. The touch was gentle, uncertain—but it felt like a promise, one you hadn’t even realized you were waiting for. The space between you seemed to shrink as if the universe itself was holding its breath.

"I think I—" Spencer started, but the words hung in the air, unspoken, because neither of you could say them aloud just yet. Instead, you reached for him.

You moved slowly, carefully, but when your lips met his, it wasn’t cautious. It wasn’t calculated. It was everything that had been building between you for the past two months. It was vulnerability and longing and the quiet admission that you couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

His lips were warm, soft, and he didn’t pull away, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he did. The kiss was tentative at first, but it deepened as you both leaned into it, the world around you fading until it was just the two of you. And for the first time in weeks, maybe months, you felt right. Not because the kiss had solved everything, but because in that moment, you finally felt seen.

When you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily. Spencer’s hands were still lightly touching your arms, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them, but you didn’t want him to move. You didn’t want to break this moment of rawness between you.

“I... I’ve wanted that for a while,” Spencer said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your heart racing. “I think I have too.”

For a moment, you simply stayed there, sitting together, breathing in the same air. You didn’t need to talk, didn’t need to say anything more. Everything had shifted, in a way that felt both terrifying and liberating at the same time.

You were no longer just coworkers. You weren’t just a married couple in name. In that kiss, you had taken the first step into something more. Something real.

And for the first time, you believed Spencer when he said he didn’t want to lose this.

The Quiet Moments After

The days after your first kiss were a mix of confusion and excitement. There was still tension between the work you did and the lives you were building together, but somehow it felt more manageable now. You and Spencer began finding ways to open up to each other—slowly, carefully, but with more and more honesty.

You would catch Spencer looking at you with that same soft expression as if he was still trying to figure out the person sitting beside him, but there was no hesitation anymore. No pulling away.

He didn’t say much, but his actions spoke volumes. Whether it was bringing you your favorite coffee when he knew you were having a rough day or simply sitting beside you on the couch, his presence had started to mean more. And with each passing moment, each new shared experience, you felt your connection deepening.

Maybe this wasn’t the marriage you had expected. But maybe, just maybe, it was the one you needed.

Part 3

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds self insert

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sk3tch404 · 2 days ago

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Yandere Weeping Clown Thoughts!!

CW: Nothing too bad, just your usual creeper, manipulation, and analysis(?) on his character. Tbh hes so yandere coded that everything blurs together atp (and I'm using "yandere coded" sort of loosely bc that makes me sound like a yandere enabler or smth, which like, lol no but in fiction yeah funne). Called him Joker bc it was easier to use/remember than Weepy, and also bc they called them that in all the lore drop so 🤷‍♀️

A/n: Just saw the new Hullabaloo lore drop and IDV has taken me back into its clutches. He is so yandere material 🫶 Proof read enough to go "that's postable."

Joker is quite sensitive to his darlings perception of him. He always tries to do the right thing, tries to please you so that when you smile at him, that strangely unfamiliar warmth spreads through his chest. A smile tugging on the corners of his mouth, stringing his lips up as if he were a puppet. And a puppet of your design he shall be if you wished it so.

Joker is definitely a worshipping sort of yandere. He'll do most of anything for his darling if it made them just a teeny bit closer. Any progress is better than no progress. Even if it means visiting you in the dead of night to "check on you," or often "bumping into you" in places that you frequent at the manor. He'll stop bothering you if you reject his advances, but he'll come back around sooner or later. Joker doesn't want you to hate him, but he also doesn't want to be away from you! Although you may say some hurtful things like, "It's making me uncomfortable, sorry," or, "Can you leave me alone for a while," he knows deep down that if he teeters around the boundaries you set for long enough, he can wiggle his way through and to your heart. At least, that's what he hopes.

Despite his subservient nature to his darling, Joker isn't so obedient around others. He has his more introverted traits for sure, but his sensitivity to anger is fragile, especially when it comes to you. Joker doesn't have many qualms about taking a stand for you or himself if it came to it. He wants to be your protector, so he isn't very afraid to say something if he feels the need to. It can become quite the scene if the other party doesn't back down, making either you or someone else the mediator of the debacle. It's exhausting to have to manage your persistent follower, but it's better to handle a situation rather than let it spiral out of control, leaving the consequences of his mental break to you.

With his fragility also comes his keen eye for any chances to take advantage of a situation. Joker isn't very intimidating physically or feared for being calculating, but he is usually dismissed, and that makes for perfect cover if he plays his cards right. Framing people for his crimes can be a walk in the park depending on the situation, and manipulating those weaker than him isn't something he wholeheartedly takes pride in, but if it's for you, if it's for you, the singular most important person and one he adores most in his rotten life, then he's happy to oblige. If it wins you over in the end, then that's all that matters, right?

Joker will try to convince his darling to stay by his side and will get more desperate depending on the circumstances. He's not a kidnapper type, more of an idealist. Not to confuse that with delusional though. Joker knows full well how you probably feel about your strained relationship, but if he doesn't try now, he'll never get to be with you, and that's unacceptable. He wants to live a romantic and sweet life with you day in and day out, so he'd hate to see you miserable and locked up. If he can't love you the way he wants to, then what would be the point?

Even with that, Joker isn't above guilt tripping or petty manipulation tactics like that. He really can be unpredictable at times and can become very dangerous if his darling constantly shows no interest. Although he is a romantic idealist in his mind with you, he's also the type to slip into the "if I can't have you, no one can" mentality. He might just end up hurting his darling, but it won't be anything too drastic by the time it happens. Joker would feel terrible, terrified, and utterly disgusted with himself after seeing your petrified state. He'd drop to his knees and attempt to mutter consoling words, somewhat even begging for your forgiveness.

"Y- Y/n, no, oh no, no... Y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please. Don't cry, I didn't mean to. I truly am sorry. I had just- I wasn't thinking straight. I would never hurt you. If only you hadn't done this, then... No, just come back to me Y/n."

He is still quite demanding even while apologizing, which would make your fear even greater. Joker doesn't want to force his darling's hand, but if it really came down to it, he'd give his darling a grade A verbally manipulative beat down. He'll use anything and everything against you so that all else but him looks ugly in that moment. Sure being at the receiving end of his unstable anger was horrifying, but be honest with yourself, were it not for him who has saved you countless times in both matches and inside the manor, you would be long dead by now. Anything is on the table, anything just so you will come back to him once more. He has little to no guilt in it, just the fear that he will seriously break if you're still in a right state of mind. So, in turn, he'll unfortunately have to break you first.

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satsuha · 3 days ago

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i'm always really interested in how the characters call each other in japanese games, so i laid out a few differences between the japanese and english versions of some ace attorney games that particularly interest me. this isn't meant to be an exhaustive list but it did get really long 😭

i highlighted english nicknames/etc in blue while japanese nicknames/etc are orange just to make reading a little easier

AA1-2

while only playing the english version i liked that maya called phoenix nick, it's a nickname that makes sense and phoenix is annoying to say and write anyway (lol) but the reason maya gives for this nickname in english is that it's what larry uses for him, which pales in comparison to maya in the japanese version opting for how mia used to call him: naruhodo-kun.

to me, this is a LOT more meaningful and informative than the english nickname because it not only is evidence of how much maya heard about phoenix from mia using that nickname, it also gives us a glimpse of maya's personality and her relationship with phoenix. -kun is an honorific that's usually used for either male classmates or for teachers/superiors to use with their students/subordinates. maya falls into neither of these categories with phoenix, but it also lines up with how she acts like the boss of the office a lot of the time. SO LIKE... ultimately the nickname nick just does not hold up in terms of both maya's reasoning for using it, and phoenix's apprehension at her calling him that... which i just think is a shame!! in the same vein, this nickname is passed down to pearl, and again you see phoenix having a Reaction to it which makes sense considering it's funny that a kid is calling him naruhodo-kun...

i don't only want to talk about changes in english that i don't prefer, so i also want to mention that i'm very impressed that they managed to get phoenix and edgeworth referring to each other by their surnames in english to sound natural... because it's also exactly what they do in japanese except there, the idea of male friends using their surnames with each other is a very very normal thing. i AM torn on the fact that in japanese larry also refers to the two of them by their surnames, which means all 3 of them are on equal grounds in that respect. AT THE SAME TIME... english makes larry's "nick" and "edgey" work so well that i really can't say we missed out with this localization, but i do like the relationship between these 3 so i do like that the japanese is indicative of it too :)

AA4

i'm skipping ahead to aa4 because trucy's also a very interesting localization to me... the first time i played aa4 i felt like trucy wasn't sufficiently differentiated enough from maya's character which is like. debatable but those were my initial thoughts anyway. in japanese though she uses third-person pronouns (calling herself by her own name, minuki) which is VERY distinct from maya. there are a number of ways to interpret this choice but i like the one that indicates that it's part of her stage persona. aside from that though, she also has a very normal nickname for apollo (odoroki-san, with -san indicating general politeness) while polly is um well canonically the name of a parrot LOL

i do find it pretty interesting that the above exchange is the first instance trucy uses the polly nickname, because it's entirely different in the japanese version. phoenix says "if this onii-chan over here can't help you..." to which trucy responds by saying "how could you, onii-chan!" this exchange is hilarious to me because phoenix referring to apollo as an onii-chan is pretty normal? it's common to refer to any young man as that and in this case he's also referring to apollo from trucy's perspective. but trucy DIRECTLY calling apollo onii-chan (brother) is just so funny because HERE it's a lot closer to how an actual younger sister would refer to her older brother; there's a difference between saying "this onii-chan" and just "onii-chan". now i'm not saying this was direct foreshadowing because onii-chan is also used between close friends/acquaintances but like... the possibility is there.

AA5

now onto simon because i don't actually have a problem with the localization making him a british weeaboo i think that's really funny but i DO wish the nicknames he uses for the defense attorneys were more... appropriate? the honorific -dono that he uses in english does complement his samurai look but it's usually used in contexts where there's some respect involved, which is... not simon's intention in japanese. i'm admittedly not too familiar with the nicknames he uses in japanese; he uses "[kanji] no ji", while using a kanji from phoenix/apollo/athena's surnames. by searching it in japanese, i'm finding answers that it was medieval slang used by men usually in red light districts and such, and was used to refer to those with equal or lower status to oneself but never to those of higher status. this is kinda the opposite of what -dono is which is used for those of equal or higher status!!

i also find it pretty amusing that despite him using the first kanji in phoenix's name; 成 (turn into, grow), he uses the second kanji in both apollo and athena's names; 泥 (mud) and 月 (moon) respectively. i can only imagine that he did this because the first kanji in their names; 王 (king) and 希 (rare, hope) respectively, were too positive/complimentary for him? LOL

AA6

now i want to to talk about apollo in aa6 because NNGNRHGH i'm not normal about this one. because like, similarly to what i said up there about phoenix, edgeworth and larry's relationship, it's completely normal for close male friends to use their surnames with each other. phoenix, being apollo's boss, refers to him as odoroki-kun (mirroring how mia and maya call phoenix). trucy uses odoroki-san, indicating general politeness and athena uses odoroki-senpai, because he's her senior in their workplace. clay uses odoroki (no honorific), which is the same "level" as phoenix/edgeworth/larry's relationship.

a male character never being referred to as their first name is pretty normal, which is also the case in the aa games. franziska calls edgeworth by his first name reiji which is SUPPOSED to stand out because it's notably impolite/informal for someone who is younger than him, which suits the idea of her thinking of herself as the elder sibling. for additional reference, phoenix is only referred to by his first name by dahlia/iris; ryuu-chan ("feenie" equivalent) and desiree; ryuuichi-kun ("nicky boy" equivalent). so apollo is referred to exclusively by his surname, because there isn't anyone who's associated with him who would feasibly use his first name.

THAT IS. UNTIL we meet datz who is the first (!!) character to use apollo's first name in japanese. this moment doesn't stand out in english because i KNOOWWW datz uses the AJ nickname which is very cute but he doesn't actually use that nickname the first time he indicates that he knows apollo in case 6-3!! phoenix's momentary confusion here is also explained because while he obviously knows apollo's full name, he's never heard anyone refer to him with it!!!

so phoenix's thoughts in japanese here were originally "housuke... wait, that bracelet! that's odoroki-kun!"

dhurke and later nahyuta (during the last moments of the 6-5 trial) also refer to apollo with his first name, which is... really nice!!! they're family!!!! i mourn the fact that this distinction isn't visible in english because most characters just call him apollo but it's special in japanese... it's only dhurke, nahyuta and datz who use his first name.... i'm normal i promise

funnily enough i sort of have the opposite issue with nahyuta, who is generally referred to as prosecutor sahdmadhi in english but nayuta-kenji (prosecutor) in japanese. i'm assuming this is because his name is written with his given name first unlike japanese names, so they just used his given name instead of his surname...? unfortunately we don't have an example of any other foreign prosecutor as reference (i'm excluding van zieks here because they DO use his surname but it's also an entirely different time and place) but i prefer the english here since it also makes it stand out when apollo, dhurke and datz (with yuty hehe) use his first name with him.

but then again... rayfa also refers to him as prosecutor sahdmadhi in english, but just calls him nayuta in japanese. there aren't a lot of characters rayfa refers to by name but generally she's either overly polite (with ga'ran and inga) or overly impolite (with phoenix and apollo). it makes sense that the way she calls nahyuta is a little unique, since he's of lower status than her but not enough to get a rude nickname fdjhja... and then of course at the end of the game she tries to call him onii-(chan? san? sama? we just don't know) which nahyuta interprets as oni (demon) i think the localization here is really impressive actually. they somehow managed to seamlessly fit braid head into the mix of barbed head and horn head (both nicknames that refer to their hairstyles) while braid also begins with the same letters as brother... anyway i think i slightly prefer that rayfa (and ga'ran) call nahyuta by his first name rather than by his prosecutor title, it's indicative of their higher status because of the lack of an honorific but by the end of the game it fits in with the idea of them all being family...

TGAA1-2

you would think that because tgaa opted to leave japanese honorifics in the dialogue that there wouldn't be any differences in how the characters refer to each other but there are... first of all kazuma and ryunosuke are once again male friends who refer to each other by their surnames without an honorific in japanese, but the english has them use their first names with each other instead. i can understand this change because characters using only their surnames with each other feels oddly distant in english, and while it worked for phoenix and edgeworth's relationship it definitely doesn't suit kazuma and ryunosuke's.

additionally, the way susato calls ryunosuke was also changed from naruhodo-sama to naruhodo-san. this is... also an interesting change since it requires the player to have some basic knowledge of japanese honorifics but for some reason decided to change it anyway, despite the fact that susato also uses -sama with kazuma... one thing to note is that susato does use kazuma's first name instead of his surname like she does with ryunosuke, which helps indicate their closer relationship despite her still showing respect with the -sama honorific. in that sense naruhodo-san feels like an interesting middle ground because she's still using his surname but doesn't seem to view his position with her as equal to kazuma's? i assume that was the intent of the localization, similarly to how the way kazuma and ryunosuke call each other was changed to indicate closeness to the english-speaking player

anyway while i do prefer the original japanese version most of the time, my general view of original vs localization is like wow! two cakes! i might prefer one of those cakes more, but the english version usually provides enough that i like that both canons exist. because of this i can't agree with the idea that all localization is bad nor the side that believes the original doesn't matter because you're engaging only with the english side of the fandom. both are good and can reveal interesting things about the characters, story and setting!!

and thank you for reading if you got this far 🙇 i'm not an expert at japanese so i try to do my research and use multiple sources to get a better view of things, so please let me know if i got anything wrong! i also recommend checking out this post if you haven't seen it already since it's where i got some pointers on the trucy and simon segments

#satsusays #ace attorney #the great ace attorney #phoenix wright #maya fey #larry butz #miles edgeworth #trucy wright #simon blackquill #apollo justice #nahyuta sahdmadhi #rayfa padma khura'in #asougi kazuma #mikotoba susato #naruhodo ryunosuke #'only the parts that interest me' consists of more than you might believe but still that's why the aa6 section is so long .#no particular aai thoughts on this for now but who knows... i'm blaming the lack of siblings <-?#i know similar posts probably exist out there but these were some of my own observations...

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sun-kissy · 14 hours ago

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No worries if you don’t feel comfortable writing this, but Remus x reader who’s having an anxiety attack? I read the prompt below that made me think of this, and just want something just as sad to match. As much of a fluffy ending as you can pls :(

"Leave me alone!" She screamed, pushing away the only person that seemed to care about her.

thank you for your request, sweetheart!!

breathe | r.l.

tw: anxiety attack

remus lupin x reader

Remus wasn’t expecting to find you in a foetal position on your bedroom floor upon coming in. He had knocked on your front door a couple times, and when you hadn’t opened it, assumed you were using the bathroom and let himself in.

You had your legs folded up to your chest, arms wrapped around yourself like a shield. He immediately knew there was a cause for concern, what with how your loud breaths got shallower as the seconds passed. Shaking like a leaf may have been a cliché phrase; but there was nothing else he could think of to describe you, frail and torn and trembling all over.

In your defence, you had no idea an anxiety attack was coming for you. One second you were doing the laundry, and the next it felt like someone had wrapped their hands around your neck and squeezed.

You had immediately staggered into your bedroom, which was a mistake — the walls of the small room seemed to close in on you, pressing and pushing until they reduced you to the tiny thing laying pathetically on your floor.

The sound of your heartbeat was deafening, all around you like the four walls of a cage. Panic was clogging up your throat, condensing into bile on the tip of your tongue. You couldn’t think. There were strategies that you had learnt, ways to calm yourself down. But your mind was shrouded in fear in the form of fog, dread in the shape of darkness. There was no escaping this.

“Hey,” a gentle voice says. An arm wraps around your shoulders, carefully pulling you up into a sitting position. Warm, calloused hands take your own. Remus.

It’s hard to hear him over the noise of your thrumming heartbeat. You lick your lips, over and over again. It doesn’t help; your voice is still stuck at the bottom of your throat. “I — I can’t —“

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he continues to rub the back of your palm, using his other hand to brush off the beads of sweat adorning your forehead. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You tried to locate Remus in the blurry pixels dotting your vision, but the best you could do was his silhouette.

“I can’t — I can’t find you,” you gasp desperately, breaths getting heavier.

“That’s okay, dove. I’ll find you.”

He brings your hand to his chest, splaying out his palm over yours. “We’ve got to slow down your breathing, okay? Can you do this with me?”

You feel his chest expand, before it settles back in its original position. Up, then down again. You don’t think you can do it, but for Remus, you’ll give it a shot.

Up, then down. Your heart squeezes when you try to breathe; like it’s nothing but a sponge. You open your mouth to tell Remus that, but the sponge in your chest makes its way to your throat. All you can do is shake your head pitifully.

Remus gives you a reassuring smile, his kindness endless. “That’s alright, you’re doing really well. Let’s try something easier, yeah? Help me out here. Find something… red, in this room.”

You turn your head, eyes darting around aimlessly. Your gaze locks on a blurry shape in the open dresser, which revealed itself to be a scarf when you squinted. You raise your hand, pointing at it with a trembling finger.

“Good job, dove.” A swift kiss to your forehead. “What about something blue?”

Blue. You swivel your head around. One more time, and you still can’t spot a thing. There’s nothing blue here, and you’re going to panic, and —

Blue. Your favourite colour. You immediately look down, fingers clenching around the crystal blue locket on your neck. The present Remus had given you for your sixteenth birthday.

“This — this locket?” you croak.

“You got it,” he murmurs reassuringly, giving your wrist a squeeze. “Last one, okay? Green.”

It was getting easier. You blink and your head seems a little lighter. “The plants, by the windowsill.”

“Well done, sweetheart.” He gives you a congratulatory peck on the top of your head, fingers sliding down to intertwine with yours. “Feeling better?”

You nod an affirmative, letting out a shaky breath as the tension seeps out. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he smiles softly. “Do you know what triggered it?”

You sigh, leaning back till your head hits the wall. Remus is quick to slot his hand in between, softening the blow as he slowly drops his arm. “I don’t know. I guess it was just the lack of sleep.”

“You need to take better care of yourself, dove. You’ve been overworking,” he sighs, moving his hand to rub circles on your knee.

“I know. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for, lovely girl.” He starts to smile when you clamber forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders in an awkward hug. “Just try to listen to your body more, yeah? And to me, of course.”

“Of course,” you mutter sarcastically, your lips curving upward. He grins, grabbing your hips and tugging until you’re straddling him. “That’s right. Now, how about you go take a warm bath and I’ll order us some pizza?”

“But I need to finish my —“

“Nope. What did I just tell you?”

You sigh loudly. “I gotta listen to you,” you grumble.

“Exactly. That’s my good girl,” Remus grins, fingers slipping under your T-shirt to rub the skin on your hips lovingly.

He helps you up and to the bathroom. He orders pizza, puts on your favourite movie, and smothers you with love. Remus was right; you were going to be okay.

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maxdibert · 2 days ago

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“Sirius killed people-“ so did Snape, supposedly loved Lily but betrayed her location to Voldemort because he was jealous of James actually winning her heart, not to mention convincing Harry the abuse was his fault, nearly giving Neville PTSD to the point where his boggart was Severus Snape himself, being a racist pos to anyone born of muggle parents, and becoming a high ranking member of the death eaters so what? He could protect Harry?

“It’s easier to cry in a Ferrari-“

it’s easier to defend a terrible character and play the racism and eat the rich card when you can’t understand context and inference clues that JK Rowling laid out.

What’s easy is inventing canon. What a load of made-up nonsense, mate.

1. Learn to read. I didn’t say Sirius killed anyone, but he did attempt murder. And he did it because he thought it was funny to torture Severus.

2. There’s no evidence that Severus killed anyone before Dumbledore asked him for euthanasia. This is made quite clear when Dumbledore talks about his concern for Draco’s soul, and Severus immediately questions him about his own soul. If Severus is so worried about it, it’s implied he hadn’t killed anyone before—or at least not in cold blood.

3. Have you even read the books? The only person who knew the Potters’ location was Peter. He’s the one who betrayed them.

4. There’s no evidence he was a racist. First off, equating racism with the concept of blood purity not only trivializes a serious social issue but also makes it clear that some of you have no idea what racism is or its history. The discriminatory dynamics and their foundations are completely different. But anyway, putting that aside, there’s no evidence whatsoever that Severus discriminated against Muggle-borns. The only time he makes a comment is during the incident with Lily—which, conveniently, happens when James and Sirius are sexually assaulting him, and Lily seems to smile at James. I don’t think you can judge someone’s ideology based on a comment made in an extremely tense moment. Canonically, Severus doesn’t treat Muggle-born students worse in class or make comments about their heritage. Nor does he badmouth Muggles. At most, he makes condescending remarks—which, let’s be real, all the characters do, even the “good ones,” because they’re ridiculously patronizing toward Muggles.

5. Severus was literally a double agent and reached the highest ranks of the Death Eaters to, yes, protect Harry. That’s literally why. He’s following Dumbledore’s orders. Like, have you read the books, or are you just pulling this stuff from fanfics? 99% of what you’ve said so far is pure fantasy, mate.

6. Yes, love, it’s actually pretty easy for me to defend people whose actions are a direct consequence of their life circumstances, and whose poor decisions were directly influenced by a lack of opportunities, security, and the violence of their environment. In fact, that’s literally my job. That’s what I do for a living.

Look, I don’t give a damn if you’re a Sirius fangirl. You can love a character while admitting he was a massive piece of crap. I love The Penguin, and there’s no way to justify him at all. Like, it’s fine, you know? You also have every right to feel sorry for him—I’m not going to judge you for that or anything. I’m not invalidating other people’s feelings if they think Sirius’s life was super tragic and feel a lot of compassion for him. Everyone has their own feelings and points of empathy. But that’s not the case for me. I don’t feel sorry for him. There’s no excuse for being an abusive bully with sociopathic tendencies toward someone who was canonically in a position of social and economic disadvantage. If Severus had come from a good family, with money and power—or if Sirius had been someone without a name, wealth, or status—then I’d view the situation differently because they would have been on equal footing. But just like the Black family chose Muggle-borns to torture because they knew they could, Sirius chose Severus because he knew he could. He’s a hypocrite and a piece of garbage. At least Bellatrix admitted her tendencies.

#severus snape #pro severus snape #severus snape defense #sirius black #sirius orion black #so i’m sorry but sirius background didn’t excuse his actions #sirius black you posh bastard #sirius black sadistic bitch #sirius black meta #severus snape meta #sirius black headcanon #harry potter #harry potter meta

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nylloth · 2 days ago

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My opinion about Arcane s2 (mostly Viktor)

I'm trying to be neutral on this, but I'm upset with what they did to Viktor.

I was wrong about their relationship with Sky (but I had hope), you can see he never really cared for her and the animators put their all into conveying that. Plus, let's say Sky represents Viktor's humanity and Viktor himself gives up on her. And it's a lot easier for him to give her up than it is for Jayce, who he's trying to show this new “world” to.

They have a lot of gay moments with Jayce, I don't know why the writers call it “family”. It's really hard to see family in that. It seems like at some point they decided to change the plot, because at the end Jayce and Viktor just disappear and no one just doesn't care what Jayce has with Mel.

The thing I didn't like the most was how they changed Ryze, that now Ryze is Viktor, the all-powerful mage. We know from the documentary that it was Ryze at one point. That would make more sense than Viktor traveling through time and constantly dooming himself to a series of miseries. But then again, they added the “all for Jayce” aspect to it.

You can see it's supposed to be a different character, right?

I really didn't like how they treated Sky because obviously she wasn't an evil manipulative core. Viktor killed her twice for his own purposes. Once by accident, the second time on purpose. Look, you add a girl who is IN LOVE with a man, make her die twice for him, and show WHY he doesn't care. It's a dirty act. Amanda said she was “proud to write Sky”, I don't know what there is to be proud of. As a woman, it was painful for me to watch. You didn't have to do that. Did you mean to say the character is gay? You don't have to humiliate women to do that.

I always hoped Viktor wouldn't have any romantic innuendos because feelings, for Herald, are a weakness. But the fact that they're indulging JayVik fans makes it look NOTHING like that. Like, I'm not a fan of this ship, but even I don't consider what they showed as brotherly feelings. Especially from Viktor's side. He is literally too concerned with Jayce's opinion.

I also think that the writers largely emphasized the clips and fights, but didn't add to the story itself. I mean Silco's deep thoughts in the first season on political topics and the theme of family in general was shown much better.

Herald is essentially non-existent. It's a character for the last two episodes who is immediately killed off because of a few words from Jayce. Viktor returns and they vaporize somewhere. I take it this is starting a recurring time loop.

They kind of tried to put in Viktor's “here he's come to the realization on his own that humanity is bad”, but they did it SO FAST and literally because of one event that it looked bad. Yeah, it's not about hexcore. VIKTOR SUPPOSEDLY CAME TO THIS ON HIS OWN. Why? Because Jayce shot him, and then Jayce helped him realize otherwise. No, really, what was that?

I also didn't like the redesign. I was hoping the mask would look different, but it looks HORRIBLE.

It's supposed to give the impression that Viktor “shut down and withdrew into himself”, they also tried to make him a “deity”, but since it only lasted 20 minutes before he went back to his normal state, it didn't make any sense… Anyway… I sympathize with everyone who loved Viktor specifically, outside jayvik ship (happy for you guys). I know they are excited, but this is not Viktor's story. You see, Viktor doesn't have his own personal story now, he's too connected to Jayce. You could say he did everything and nothing at the same time. Because he keeps running this time loop, but he's running it because of Jayce's influence.

Waiting for his updated lore to read….. idk I'll read it and forget it like a bad dream.

#viktor arcane #viktor #arcane #arcane spoilers #sky young #sky arcane #machine herald #animation is nice but not the story #I'll buy the artbook and that's it #I guess....#arcane s2

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itsa-me-lily · 3 days ago

Text

First of all, anyone with pets, this fic may fuck you up. It fucked me up and I wrote it. So please keep that in mind before reading this fic. This is for sure some of my own personal trauma I used to flavor this, that and my tears.

Second THE PIGS ARE OKAY IN THE END I PROMISE, spoilers I know but I felt like I needed to put that in advance

Third here is the other Military Program Spouse stuff

Fourth @nightunite I want to blame this on you but this is honestly all me

Content warning; anxiety, panicking, pet illness, discussion of pet death, concern that violence has been committed against reader, concern that reader is injured, angst

You were not a woman who needed her husband, but fuck was this a time you wanted him.

You had suspected something was up with boys. You couldn't tell if they were eating, and neither would come running to the edge of their enclosure to greet you when you came home. You tried not to panic, tried to ignore the tendrils of anxiety that wrapped around your lungs to strange them. This time was different. You weren't some kid who just graduated college and didn't have a clue. You knew better this time.

So you mixed up your CritCare, made the next available appointment with their vet, and remained determined that everything was going to be fine.

Then the wheezing started.

You had been on the cusp of sleep, your phone mocking you with the announcement of one am. You knew you needed to sleep, and yet you hadn't been able to. In the dark you could admit that you were scared. And that you had a reason to be.

You hadn't made the pull out bed, instead just planning on sleeping on the couch as is, incase something happened. You're thankful you had. It made scooping both Jiji and Tombo to abscond to the bathroom easier, the three of you sitting against the door as the hot running shower filled the tiny room with steam. It would help. It had to.

Only it didn't. Ten minutes later and they still sounded so terrible. You could feel the fear starting to churn your stomach. What if you couldn't fix it? What if you were too late again and-Your breath hitched as you tried not to spiral. It had to be different this time but-your eyes burned as you tried to ignore the urge to cry. You were so alone. Simon was out on some overnight lieutenant training, and you were alone in your bathroom with your boys who were absolutely everything to you and they sounded so sick and what if you couldn't make them, what if it was just like last time where you tried and tried and it still didn't make them any better and you lost them and-

You can't help the sob that ripped out of your chest, holding the boys a little tighter. You needed to do something. You have to do something because your boys needed you to. Sniffling, you tried to unlock your phone to check where the ER vet is, only it opens to the conversation you had with Simon.

'If anything happens call Soap.'

You were sure that Simon had probably meant if there was some sort of human emergency, when he had offered up his best friend, but you were desperate. Without really thinking about it you were dialing the Scot, breath hitching as you tried to get it under control. The endless ringing just made the anxiety wring your insides. You were about to give up when at the last second a voice came on the line, disoriented and thick with sleep.

"'ello?"

"J-Johnny?"

You hadn't meant for your voice to crack when you said his name, but just hearing another person meant that you didn't have to try this alone and the relief that crashed over you made you a little weak.

"I need help."

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish, liked to think that he was a man prepared for anything. He was a solider, a demolition expert, he could make anything blow with just the right amount of faith, trust, and c-4. He was ready to fly out to whatever corner of the world needed him to kick ass.

He was not ready to hear Ghost's wife, which that was an odd sentence in and of itself, almost crying down the line as she called him in the dead of night. You hadn't even finished saying his name and Johnny was already rolling out of bed, looking for anything to throw on.

Image after terrible image flashed through his mind as he heard your plea for help. Had someone broken in? Were you hurt? One awful thought struck him of you cowering somewhere until the person determined to get revenge on Ghost found you. No. He couldn't panic. You already sounded distressed and he couldn't help you if he lost his head. Johnny was a professional.

"Hen, need you to tell me where you are."

"At-at the house-"

"Is anyone else there?"

"N-no."

Johnny would have sagged with relief if he wasn't so busy shoving his feet into his boots and already halfway out the door. Not a break in, at least as far as you were aware. It didn't rule out you being hurt though.

"Listen I'll be there in ten, don't move."

"But the boys-"

Looking back, Johnny probably should have let you finish before ending the call, but in his defense he had a twenty minute drive to cut in half, and an LT to notify. He wasn't really sure what the relationship between the two of you was, but he had been there the night Ghost had overheard some private talk about you, and Ghost hadn't taken kindly to it.

Of course, the private needed to be socked a few times given what he was saying, but still, as far as he had known his LT hadn't even wanted to be in the spousal program until Price threatened him with extra psych meetings. Then next thing Johnny new Ghost was defending your honor and asking him to keep an eye on ya when he was out of town. So whatever the hell was going on between the two of you, Johnny wasn't going to fuck it up.

Which was how he was now at the closest emergency vet visit, trying to keep you from crying further while someone looked at your guinea pigs. Even he could admit the poor guys had sounded awful in the car.

He had tried not to push, even if he had been frustrated when he had first arrived at Ghost's home. He had spent ten minutes driving like the devil was chasing him, imagining you laying there with a broken neck or worse, and you had been perfectly fine, standing there at the door talking about needing a vet.

Johnny had had half a mind to give you an earful of what constituted as a past midnight call for help, but before he had the chance to, your face had crumbled and it was over for him. He was taking you and two guinea pigs to the vets.

He watched as you picked at your cuticles, seeming to need some sort of distraction, though he couldn't tell how well it was working given the way you seemed to be staring at the floor. Just as he was about to reach out to stop you from making yourself bleed for the third time, his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He was pretty sure he knew who was calling at this hour.

He didn't even bother checking the ID before answering, stepping away, not that you noticed.

"Hey LT."

"Status report MacTavish."

"Missus is okay. The wee ones got taken back. Now we're just waiting."

"...Thank you Johnny."

That was unexpected. Sure Ghost wasn't a complete bastard, but the genuine gratitude that came through the line was...shocking. He didn't know if it was for driving you while you were upset or even just being there. He wasn't sure if Ghost even knew.

"Any time Simon."

"How is-"

Johnny didn't mean to cut the man off, but a man in mint green scrubs had come out calling for last name Riley, and he didn't want to leave you alone to get whatever news was coming.

"They just called for us. Update you later."

He probably shouldn't have hung up just like that, but well he figured Ghost would appreciate the dedication to keeping you upright this evening.

It was an upper raspatory infection, is what Soap told him the vet had said. Simon didn't know how two guinea pigs who never left the house got infections like that, but according to Soap who had said according to the vet, that you had caught it early enough and a course of antibiotics would help.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he remembered getting Soap's messages, at first the worry that something had happened to you, and then the concern later when it was clear that it was the pigs.

Simon knew you had some sort of trauma in regards to them. There was no way that the level of hypervigilance you had in regards to them wasn't. He had seen it other service members before. Hell he lived it, that constant nagging feeling that if you weren't aware of everything all the time, then something was going to get you. It hadn't been until he had asked about the two wooden boxes on your nightstand that he had started to understand.

You'd had two other guinea pigs before, pets you had gotten to sooth the loneliness right after college. And of course you loved them, loved them just as much as you loved your boys now. Only you hadn't known then what to look out for with sick guinea pigs.

Simon could remember the sad look in your eyes as you had brushed your fingers along the top of one wooden urn. You had tried so hard to nurse them back to health, did everything you could, went to the vet as often as you could afford to, but you had been trying to catch up to a loosing race. Simon had pretended not to notice how you had tried not to let any tears spill over as you explained it all to him. So now, with Jiji and Tombo, he could see how that would probably send you spiraling.

Really he owed Soap at least a drink the next time they went out, even if at four in the morning the Scot had tried to brush off any gratitude from when he reported to Simon that everyone was back home where they were supposed to be. He knew he didn't say it enough, but Simon was grateful that Soap had his six, and in this case yours.

Pulling up to the driveway, Simon braced himself for whatever laid waiting for him at high noon. It was the best possible anticlimactic. You asleep on the couch clear bags under your eyes, and two little pigs poking their heads out of their hideys to see what was going on now.

Making his way over he knelt down next to the cage, watching as Jiji stuck his head out a little further to even accept the gentle brushing of Simon's finger. The antibiotics must have already been helping.

"Alright you two, it's time to get better now. You can't go breaking your mum's heart."

Edit;

Jiji and Tombo make a full recovery and are back to being their adorable menacing selves in no time. Baker thankfully never got sick because he was being quarantined due to the ringworm

Also this is incredibly emotional for me, because I loved all my boys I've had, and I'd do all over again, the medication runs, vet visits, syringe feedings, if it meant that they got better. So even if it's in this world, to have piggies get better means a lot.

#military program spouse #simon x reader #cod #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #guinea pig #Simon x Thimble

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fanfictiongirlie · 2 days ago

Text

Marvel: Unplanned Chapter Five

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (First person written though)

Description:

"It says...it says it's positive doll" His voice matching mine in a quiet shaky whisper.

"Fuck... I'm pregnant?"

"Yeah doll, you're pregnant"

"Fuck" I whisper.

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, smut

Chapter Words: 2,809

(I have the urge for every Marvel fanfic I write to have a seperate timeline where nothing bad happens, and everyone is happy)

When the little notification on my phone told me I was 14 weeks pregnant, I smiled softly to myself, I walked to the kitchen to make myself lunch, my hand gently resting on my tiny bump, it was barely there, but I could tell it was an actual bump, even if the others couldn't.

Once in the kitchen I started making myself lunch, dancing to the music in my head as I cooked. Until I felt a nudge in my stomach, I stopped cooking my spoon dropping onto the kitchen counter.

"Bucky!" I yelled, knowing his super soldier hearing would hear me, soon he was rushing into the room, his book in hand.

"Doll, what's wrong?" He asks, his voice laced with worry.

"Come feel!" I say, giggling as I reached for his hand. I took his hand in mine and placed it against my stomach.

"Just wait" I say excitedly. We waited for a few moments until the little nudge happened again.

"Is...is that...did the baby just kick?" He asks, his eyes wide, he looked at me with a mix of surprise and awe.

"You felt it?" I asked. Bucky nods, a smile slowly spreading across his face. He looks from my stomach to my face.

"Yeah doll! I felt it...It's really real now, isn't it? We're having a baby..." He says quietly. "Yeah it's real" I whisper, my hand stroking my lower stomach, just below where Bucky's hand was. He looks at me, his perfect blue eyes filled with a mixture of emotions, there's excitement, wonder but also a hint of nervousness.

"It's growing in there, doll. Our baby" He whispers.

"Yeah it is" I say, moving my hand up to rest on his as he still held my stomach. Bucky looks down to my little bump again, his fingers slowly tracing over me.

"Still can't believe this is happening, we're gonna be parents doll"

"Don't say that, it send fear through me" I chuckle lightly. Anxiety prickling up within me, the baby nudged again in my stomach, making my chest flutter. Bucky chuckles, his hand moving so he can pull me into a hug, he kissed the side of my head as he held me tight.

"Yeah, I get it..It's a big responsibility, but we'll figure it out, together" He whispers in my ear. I take in a deep breath, a conversation we needed to have rested heavily on me, and I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Bucks, we need to talk" I mumble into his shoulder, he steps back and raises an eyebrow at me, a look of concern washing over his face.

"What's on your mind?"

"We...haven't spoken about our relationship" I say, my voice shaking a little. His expression grows more serious, he takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair.

"Right...our relationship...It's complicated, isn't doll?" He asks, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips.

"I know before the pregnancy, we said we'd keep it casual...but, like is that something you still want?" I ask quietly. I watch as he looks at me, I wished I could read his mind.

"Honestly doll" He starts, his hand running through his hair and down the back of his neck "I'm not sure, at first I didn't want anything serious, it was easier that way...But the more time we spend together..." He stops, his words trailing.

"Yeah...same here. Maybe we shouldn't worry about you?" We've got enough to worry about" I say nervously. Bucky says nothing for a moment and watches me, his eyes softening. He nods slightly.

"Yeah doll, you're right..Let's take things one step at a time" He says hesitantly "We've got the pregnancy to focus on, we don't need another complication to the mix"

"Yeah, exactly" I say unsure.

"Promise me one thing doll?"

"What's that?"

"Promise me, we'll be honest with each other?" He asks, I smile softly.

"Of course, Bucky...Can I ask you something?" I ask, he nods, looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Can we still sleep together? Or will that complicate things more?" I ask, my eyes trailing down his muscles. His eyebrows raise slightly.

"I..." He pauses "I don't think it would complicate things, it we're honest with one another about what is means"

I smirk and lift my hand to hold his jaw, I stepped closer, pressing my body against his. I giggle softly as his breath hitches slightly, his eyes flicker from mine to my body, a mix of surprise and desire in his gaze.

"Doll..." He murmurs, his voice low and a little hoarse.

"Mmm yes Bucky?" I ask seductively as I run my nail across his jaw and down his neck, leaving a faint red line. He swallows hard as I trace down his neck, he shivers and let's out the smallest moan. His eyes darken with want.

"Doll, you know what you're doing to me, don't you?" He asks quietly. I nodded eagerly smirking. Bucky's previous restraint snaps and with a swift, fluid motion, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling my tighter against him, his lips capture mine in a hungry, intense kiss. I smiled against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Bucky deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as he presses his body against mine. His hands roam over my body, rubbing over my curves and softness, holding me firmly against him.

"Mhmmm Bucky" I moan against his lips. I felt his lips turn up into a grin, his voice sending shivers down my body, He breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to my neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin, his hands holding my hips.

"You drive me crazy doll" He mutters between kisses, his voice low and rough with desire.

"Let's go to my room" I smirk. Bucky nods, his eyes full of desire as he takes my hand in his, he starts pulling me towards my room. When we reached my doorway, he gently pushed me against the door, pinning my body, his eyes burning with want as he looks down at me.

"You're mine" He whispers, his hands roaming over my body, pulling me closer.

"I am?" I smirk, trying not to let it go to my heart. I watch as he grins, his cheeks flushing a light red as he lowered his face to the curve of my neck, where he nips and kisses along my skin. His hands move down my sides and then back up again, his touch rough and possessive.

"Yes doll" He murmurs against my skin, his voice low and ragged "You're mine"

I giggle softly and open the door to my bedroom, I take his hand and pulled him into my room.

"Thought we were keeping it casual?" I ask, a playful smirk on my lips.

"Plans change, you're too damn irresistible" He murmurs, stepping close to me, his body pressing against mine, he reaches up putting both of his hands on my hips.

"Aw, you're cute" I smirk, pulling him with me as I walked backwards to my bed "We'll talk about that later"

"I'm not the cute one, doll" He whispers, I move to lie on the bed and he crawls on top of me, his eyes looking over my body, appreciating every inch of me. I press my lips to his as I start lifting his shirt, feeling his body as I move my hands. I hear his breath hitch, his hips moved down to grind against me.

Once his shirt was off, I moved forward to kiss his neck, my tongue licked at his skin as my hands rubbed over his shoulders.

"Doll" He whispers, his voice a little gruff "Keep doing that, and I won't be able to hold back for much longer"

"Please don't hold back"

I watch as he grins at my words, his eyes dark with desire. He captures my lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth as he presses his body impossibly closer to mine. His hands roamed over my body, mapping every curve and contour of my body as he lets out a low growl against my lips.

"You're impossible to resist doll" He murmurs between kisses "And right now, I don't want to resist you."

"Hmm good" I say, licking his lips. His eyes don't break away from mine as his metal fingers move to my shirt, undoing the buttons one by one, his fingers nimble and impatient. His lips move down to my neck, leaving a trail of kisses and little bites as he finally gets my shirt off. My arms fly down to my stomach, covering my small bump feeling a little insecure. He stops kissing my neck and looks down to my stomach.

I watch as he frowns and moves his flesh hand to my stomach moving my arms, his fingers trailed lightly over my bump, he looks at me, his expression serious and sincere.

"Don't do that doll" He says softly "You're beautiful...And this..." He says, his hand gently stroking my bump "Is our baby, it's not something to hide"

"I'm sorry, I'm still getting use to it" I say quietly. He smiles at me, his eyes locking onto mine.

"You don't need to apologise doll, it must be a lot to adjust to, but please don't feel like you have to hide it from me, I think you're beautiful" He whispers, he then leans down, moving his body to brush his lips against my stomach in a tender kiss. I smile fondly at him, feeling my heart beat faster than it had been.

Bucky kisses a trail along my stomach, up my chest, he unclasps my bra and throws it across the room, his tongue darts out to play with my nipple.

"I want...I want you so bad, doll" He whispers against my skin.

"I want you, take me please?" I beg, my voice sounding pathetic.

"Do you know have any idea how hot it is, when you beg like that?" He purrs, his eyes darkened with desire, his voice low and gravely. As he spoke he moved his body up, his lips leveled with mine now.

"You like that baby? You like hearing how bad I want you? I need you Bucky, please?" I beg, looking up at him through my eyelashes. He lets out a low growl, I could tell he was starting to loose control, his eyes burned with a fierce, primal need as he looked at me.

"You drive me crazy doll, begging me like that"

I moved forward kissing him again, he kissed me back with a ferocious intensity, his tongue delving into my mouth, tasting me as I tasted him. His hands moved down the sides of my body, caressing me, I ran my nails gently over his back, hoping to leave marks in his perfect skin. I moved my lips from his, kissing along his stubbly jaw and down his neck, I sucked marks into his sink, each time he moaned I thrusted my hips up into his.

We both take a second to wiggle out of our trousers and underwear, finally naked, I kiss his shoulder as his fingers move to touch my wet pussy, his metal fingers slide down my folds spreading me, as I moaned filthily, gently biting into the skin of his shoulder.

"Fuck" I whisper as he pushes two metal fingers into me. He had been reluctant to touch my pussy with his metal fingers when we first started sleeping together, but when he realised I got wetter at the use of his metal appendages, he used them more and more. I moaned loudly and spread my legs further, his fingers moving inside of me faster, the stretch hurt a little, but I liked that.

"God, you're so beautiful" He whispers.

"Fuck..Thank you"

"You don't need to thank you doll" He mutters, his fingers moving faster "It's just the truth...You're perfect, beautiful..... and mine"

"Yes! Fuck, I'm yours" I squeal as I come around his fingers, my tight hole tightening around his fingers.

"That's right doll, you're all mine" He growls, his fingers fucking me through my orgasm "All mine"

"Fuck, Bucky..Take me, I need you" I begged, my legs shaking slightly. I hear him let out a low, guttural moan as I beg, his body tenses. He moves his metal hand to grip his cock, his fingers not even meeting around it, he moved slightly, the head of his cock rubbing up and down my pussy, covering himself in my wetness before he plunges forward pushing his huge cock inside of me slowly, so slowly that I felt the veins of his cock against the walls of my pussy.

Once he was fully inside of me, he rested his forehead against mine, both of us breathing heavily, we hadn't slept together since before we found out about the pregnancy, and in this moment, I could feel how badly he needed this, he needed it as much as I did. He moved his metal hand to hold onto my hip as he slowly started to fuck me. His flesh hand came to hold my jaw, his thumb moving against my cheek, our eyes met, not moving away. Our bodies moved perfectly together, the act felt too intimate this time, but neither of us stopped as he moved with one another.

His hips moved faster, and his metal hand moved down, two of his fingers snaking down to circle my clit. I moaned loudly, and wrapped my legs around his waist, his cock moved deeper within me as he moved his hips away and slammed back into me, I squealed loudly in his ear as I felt my body shake against his, I came hard, my legs tightening around his hips as the feeling washed over my body.

"That's my girl" He groaned, his hips fucking harder into me, his groans became louder and his hips faster as he came hard inside of me, spilling into me.

"Fuck" I mumbled as his hips stopped, his cock was still inside of me, softening slightly.

"Damn doll" He groaned slowly taking his cock out of me "You drive me crazy...That was amazing"

"It really was" I whisper as I watch him collapse beside me, his breathing ragged and labored. He drapes an arm over me, pulling me against his, his face nuzzling into my neck.

"Bucky..."I say very unsure about what I was about to say, I didn't look at him, only looking up at the ceiling. "Maybe, we could try... you know... being together?"

Bucky sits up, his eyes widening as he looks at me. "You mean...being together, as in a couple?"

"Yeah?" I say, unsure. I felt my heart thudding against my chest, scared as he stares at me for a moment not saying anything. And then a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face.

"Doll...really?" He asks, his eyes wide and hopeful "You want to be...an official couple? With me?"

"Well I mean, we're already having a baby together, why not?" I say, smiling. I watch as he reaches his flesh hand out to cup my cheek, his eyes sincere and serious.

"Doll, you have no idea how happy you've just made me"

"No, tell me?"

"I didn't realise before, or maybe I did, but being with you, starting a family with you, it just feels right, I know we didn't plan it, but doll, you make me so happy"

My eyes soften at his words, I felt my cheeks flush and my heart swell.

"Oh wow Bucky, funny how we hated each other a few months ago" I say chuckling. Bucky copies my chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Yeah, who would of know?"

"Yeah...I'm glad we slept together that first time"

"Me too doll, me too"

"We're gonna be a family Buck" I say quietly, moving my hand to rest over my little bump. "So tell me, do you want a boy or a girl?"

I watch as Bucky ponders the question, his hand moving up to gently stroke my hair, a small smile crept onto his lips.

"Honestly doll, I don't care, as long as it's healthy, and happy, that's all that matters" He explains.

"Yeah definitely" I agree "But I think I want a girl"

Bucky grins, his eyes lighting up at your words.

"A girl huh? I bet she'll be just as beautiful as you"

"Oh please, I'm not that beautiful" I say rolling my eyes. I watch as his eyebrows furrow at my words, his expression serious as he looks at me.

"Doll, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen"

"Shut up" I laugh.

"No you" He grins, before moving over to press his lips to mine. He pulls me closer, and holds me as we lay there together.

(I do not consent my works to be posted anywhere else, by anyone other than myself)

Taglist:

@quinquinquincy @jaybbygrl @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @learisa @hi172826 @ravennablue @purplecolordeer @a-small-blue-nebula @buckitostan

#fluff #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #marvel smut #marvel x reader

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xoxochb · 15 hours ago

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�� dreamland ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

okay… uhm, hello?!?! 1.5k is literally insane?!?! as I say a lot, I am extremely grateful to have so many lovely mutuals and supporters every one of you means more to me than you think and I am over the moon that 1.5k people seriously will withstand my annoying-ness!! much hugs and kisses from prue 🫂💘

first things first for the event are the usual rules. you can see these on my past event posts so please check those before requesting anything, thank you!

the event ends on 11/30 if anything is sent after this date I will not do it because I explicitly said the event is over, apologies

୨୧ sweet dreams: moodboards, duh! I’ll do anything but I would prefer if it was something I know because it makes everything easier for me. I’ll do movies, books, shows, characters, ships, whatever you’d like :)

୨୧ silk sheets: I’ll assign you one of my favorite books I’ve read based on your favorite song

୨୧ lingerie nightdresses: I’ll create an outfit I think you’d wear based on your blog theme

୨୧ warm blankets: give me five fun facts about you and I’ll give you a fictional character I think matches your personality

୨୧ lacy curtains: tell me (again) a little about you and I’ll assign you one of my dreams I’ve had based on your personality!

#xoxochb #prue speaks ੈ✩‧₊˚

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lutiaskokopelli · 1 day ago

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I have an issue with constantly getting distracted, so I got distracted from working by making a 100% customizable Pomodoro App to keep my future self from getting distracted. Have a Google Drive download link.

The Pomodoro technique, if you don't know it, is a discipline method for keeping track of when you are working and when you are taking breaks, notably through the use of a timer.

There are tons of apps centered around this, and yet after looking at so many of them, I somehow could not find one that would do the most basic thing I'd like to have for a study companion: change the background of the app so that yes, I do have a timer telling me to work harder, but I also have an image of my choice to cheer me up along with it.

So what did I do? Did I take the rational, reasonable path, to just suck it up and stick to one of the already existing apps even though it would mean saying no to having my adorable Hearthian OC sleep in a corner of my screen?

Or did I go the hyperfocused insane route of utter procrastination and learn a whole new programmation language from scratch just in order to get my frikkin baby to comfort me while I work?

Yeah, who could have guessed.

So! The Google Drive link I shared will let you download everything you need in order to run your own version of this little app, including a tutorial on how to customize it to suit your needs.

The first thing you will see after unzipping the archive is this:

The "ast" folder (standing for "assets") contains every image used by the app -- which means that you can change them as you please! I even gave you transparent versions of the buttons in the "Asset Creation Help" subfolder, in case you like the shapes but want to change the backgrounds.

You think that's cool? Oh, but the image assets are far from being the only thing you can change for this app's behavior! You can change EVERYTHING that this app is doing (which isn't much because it's literally just three different types of timers, and even then there are some trickier details with more coding than others (but I still give tips on how to handle those), but shush. Everything this app can do, you can customize to your heart's content).

How do you do that? Well, this is what you get when you right-click on the "Pomodoro.ps1" file:

The Pomodoro.ps1 file is the "app" itself, written in PowerShell code that I made as legible as I could make it. There is a whole tutorial in there, made easier to read if you right-click on this file's icon and choose the "Edit" option. Have a preview!

Through editing this file, you can then run a Pomodoro app from which you can have the window's appearance customized, from its size, opacity (if you want to still half-see what's sitting behind it), and start position on your screen (the window can be dragged around, but if you have a preferred position you can tell the app to always load it in that preferred spot right from the get go), to stuff like the custom messages you get whenever the timer progresses:

So, yeah. I made a little app meant to help with productivity. One out of many already out there, sure, and it's probably not as cool as many others (but I'll just remind you that three days ago I knew absolutely nothing about PowerShell as a whole, so- I guess that would be still a little impressive that I was able to make a working app like that at all? xD), but as far as I've looked, it's the only one that will let you have your favorite images keep you company while you use it.

I don't know whether anyone other than me will like it enough to use it, but just in case, it's here! Hope it's as easy(-ish) to customize as I made it out to be, or at least close enough.

PS: The version I use for my own personal choices uses some slightly different assets compared to the version I share in the .zip file on my Google Drive. This is because the version I share online solely uses official Outer Wilds art (while the version I made for myself notably uses one piece of OW fanart that I did not make myself, and it didn't sit right with me to share that piece uncredited, even in an edited form. If you are curious, this is the artwork in question).

#pomodoro technique #pomodoro method #outer wilds

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ofthecaravel · 1 day ago

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Heavy Crown

Summary: Prince Sam's premonition can only be quelled by the presence of his personal guard.

Tags: 18+ content!!!, flowery ass fancy ass medieval adjacent talking, suggestive conversations, minor minor angst

Words: 11k

A/N: Hear ye, hear ye, I do decree that none of you can look me in the eyes ever again after reading this.

~~~

It’s the window that did it, really. At least, that’s what the prince had said.

It was a tall, grand window positioned opposite the bed that slept across the wide length of the bedroom, with heavy velvet curtains that were drawn in the evening and undone in the morning to reveal the shimmering glass. Despite the effort it would take and the noise it would invoke if those curtains were to move, Prince Samuel insisted his guard be removed from his post outside his chamber doors and instead spend his evenings beside the window.

“I have terrible dreams of someone coming through the window and slitting my throat in my sleep,” Samuel explained to his father the king, tearfully clinging to his arm. “I ask David replace Daniel’s post and Daniel stay with me. He’s the only one I trust to handle an intruder if my dreams turn out to be premonitions.”

Of course the king had relented to his youngest child, third in line for the throne and yet the undisputed favorite. Riding the aftershock of a rambunctious rebellious phase that had Samuel turning the palace inside and out when he was a youth, his parents would do just about anything to keep him satisfied and away from the fine china. And so, Daniel of the royal guard ended up sitting stoic and alert in a plush chair in front of the window night after night while Samuel slept.

That is, until the prince started to spend his time in bed talking instead of sleeping.

Talking to Daniel.

It was all very innocent at first. That’s how Daniel remembers it. A week or so into this operation, Daniel jolted from a light doze by the soft bell of Samuel’s voice reaching out to him in the inky black of the room. If it were daytime, he would have passed his time quite quickly admiring the ornate intricacies of the vanity, the trim of the wall, the frame of the bed, the patterns of the quilt, the body beneath them…

“Daniel?”

“Your Majesty?” Daniel startled, getting to his feet in an instant and his hand going straight to the sword on his side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s the matter, you can sit,” Samuel insisted, amusement lacing his voice and making Daniel feel suddenly silly for reacting the way that he did, despite it being his duty to do so. “It’s just that I can’t sleep.”

“Oh,” Daniel said simply, sitting gingerly back down on his seat. “Should I request something from the kitchen?”

“Is that what you would do for yourself?” Sam asked.

His tone was odd. Daniel couldn’t quite place its intent. He felt self conscious under Samuel’s scrutiny, which was something the prince seemed to subject him to often. When he stood beside his throne at the edge of the room during court, he could always feel the heat of Samuel’s eyes on him in his peripheral vision while keeping his gaze on the doors and whatever danger may lay behind them. Daniel burned often during court.

“I…suppose I would,” Daniel answered honestly. “When I was young and couldn’t sleep, my mother would bring me milk and a slice of bread and it would make me plenty drowsy.”

There was a moment of silence as Samuel considered his words. Immediately, Daniel worried he had said too much about himself. It felt wrong to mention himself at all in the presence of royalty. Everyone’s lives were supposed to revolve around theirs. Lucky for Samuel, Daniel was more than happy to mold his life to make Samuel’s easier.

“Request this from the kitchen,” Samuel ordered in a bored tone, yawning as he said it. In doing so, he completely betrayed his facade of being far too awake for his own liking, but Daniel didn’t seem to notice as he got to his feet and whispered the demand to the guard outside the door.

After this occasion, Prince Samuel spent every night provoking more and more conversation out of his otherwise silent guard.

“Daniel?”

“You must be up early in the morning, Prince. You should rest.”

“You know I struggle to do so.”

“Your struggle would be helped by an attempt to rest.”

“I’ll have your head for that,” Samuel snapped, but they both knew it carried no weight. “I mean only to ask for your opinion. Or have you risen above matters such as morals?”

“What opinion do you require, Your Majesty?”

“You also know I hate when you call me that.”

“It is what you are to me,” Daniel stated plainly.

In truth, it was more so what had been taught to him. He was reminded often how lucky he was to receive a position with such high honor, and to refer to who he protected as anything less prestigious than they were was entirely unacceptable. Even titles that were within his right to use sometimes felt too intimate for him to be using. Once, when Daniel had first been appointed to serve the youngest prince, he had called him “my prince” and proceeded to feel an uncomfortable warmth in his face for hours after it had left his lips. This was due in part to the stare Prince Samuel had subjected him to after he had said it. It was a stare he felt had never really quite left him.

“Call me Samuel,” Samuel insisted. With a shift in the blue of the night, Daniel could tell he had flipped from his back to rest his pillow on his cheek to face Daniel. “If only in my quarters, call me that. If you resist, I will order you to.”

“What opinion do you require…Samuel,” Daniel forced out, feeling a strained heat in his body as he made himself speak the name. It felt so wrong. Salacious, somehow. He was not meant to know his protectee in this way. He was not meant to want to know his protectee in this way.

“At the ball we will host this coming weekend, do you recommend I wear my robes of blue or red?” Samuel asked, pleased by Daniel’s subordinance. “I’d like to wear my crown as well, if that changes your opinion in any way.”

“This may be a question best suited to your tailor,” Daniel replied, despite having an immediate answer in his head. “I don’t know much in ways of fabrics and drapery.”

“But what do you prefer? On me?”

“I prefer whatever you feel flatters you best.”

Daniel felt everything the prince wore flattered him best. He could walk the castle grounds wearing robes stitched together with curtains and rugs and Daniel would still think of it for hours.

“You are impossible, Daniel,” the prince whined, loudly flipping onto his back once more and disrupting the goose down pillows and mattress that cushioned him. “If you are not suited to answer such simple questions, I ask you fetch David from outside the door and-”

“The red,” Daniel cut him off quickly, bristling in his seat. “I recommend the red for you.”

There was a span of silence that seemed like forever to Daniel as he felt the smug satisfaction drifting from Samuel reach him from across the room.

“Thank you for your council, Daniel,” Samuel hummed. “Now I can rest.”

“Rest well…Samuel,” Daniel answered him.

If it were easy to see, you could’ve seen both their smiles in the dark.

After a lifetime of being told of the untouchable power and dominion the house of Kiszka held over their kingdom, and even those that stretched far beyond the sea, it felt somehow dangerous to bend to the friendship that was forming between him and the youngest prince. When Samuel’s prodding questions turned into rambling, these mythical figures that Daniel had sworn his autonomy to were stripped of their mystique and glory until they were simply people. With Samuel’s words, a king and queen that bowed the heads of nations and dropped members of the court to their knees turned into overbearing parents whose strongest arsenal held only embarrassing nicknames instead of weapons. The steely eyed general of an army, a cunning strategist, and a charitable princess were reverted to mischievous children united against their youngest brother, armed only with peach pits for tossing and sticky hands made for pulling hair. Samuel spent his time on the outskirts of royal importance mapping their lives and their trajectory. And now, as Daniel slowly warmed up to him, he finally had someone to report his findings to.

“My father has spent another useless afternoon in talks with the high court from that prissy kingdom in the mountains about a bride for Joshua,” Samuel announced one evening as he smoothed his quilts and Daniel took his post in his chair. “I know he’s first in line, but we all know he’s just going to keep scaring those poor girls away as he always has.”

“Joshua would make a fine king,” Daniel responded. As weeks of chatter turned into months, he had reclined from a tense posture to a casual lean, even allowing his legs to cross comfortably. He did it then, massaging the back of his sore neck with a hand while Samuel fluffed his blankets with snaps of the wrist.

“Yes, but he doesn’t want to be a ‘fine king’,” Samuel sighed, taking advantage of the warm light the still lit candles cast through the room so he might make proper eye contact with his guard. “He’d rather spend all day drawing his maps and goofing off with his men. Honestly, I don’t even know what they all actually do. We haven’t needed to “strategize” for anything in years. We’re a peaceful people!”

Daniel hummed thoughtfully and nodded sagely, carefully keeping his mouth shut. Daniel knew well what plans of action that the royal guard appointed to the eldest son often carried out, but he decided it was not his place to relay that to his little prince.

“I will share a sentiment of mine if you swear not to repeat it,” Samuel proclaimed, finally settling his legs under the silks and fine Egyptian cotton while keeping his back to the carved headboard.

“There is nothing I would not swear to you, Your Highness,” Daniel answered solemnly.

“There are times when I feel this whole system with its relation to my family and our kingdom is just so…”

The prince trailed off, tilting his head to the ceiling and thinking. Daniel used this beat of quiet to admire him without shame or quickly darting eyes. The low, pensive slope of Samuel’s eyebrows over his foxlike eyes, down to the straight descent of his nose and the sculpt of his lips…all of it invited Daniel in.

“The monarchy, I mean. Well, I can’t say I care for it much most days.”

Daniel blinked in shock, jolting out of his haze and twisting at the hip to face the prince head on.

“But you are so favored,” Daniel responded, taken aback by Samuel’s words. “There are legions who would give their lives for the power you hold.”

“They can have it,” Samuel grumbled. “I know if my brothers and sister were here, they would agree with me. When Joshua is king, I pray he fulfills the rearrangement we all crave.”

“What is it you crave?”

Samuel fell silent and turned his gaze to Daniel, who received it with a slow intake of breath through his nose and a neutral expression as the prince’s handsome eyebrows tensed almost pleadingly before smoothing out. It was an exchange that lasted only a moment, but it struck a tightly strung chord in Daniel as Samuel let out a weary sigh.

“I wish my siblings and I could trade our roles,” Samuel admitted, shrugging loosely and smoothing his hair with a graceful hand. “Jacob would happily play king if Joshua gave him the title. He has so much respect from our people as it is, and I know they would feel secure under his rule. Joshua could keep his affairs inside the castle the way he prefers…or perhaps his duties could take him to neighboring kingdoms and he could gain their favor that way. He’s sweet with his words when he wants to be. His diplomacy could take us far.”

“I suppose that would leave you to switch duties with your sister the princess,” Daniel joked. He watched curiously as Samuel’s face flickered with what looked like the beginnings of a smile, but he quickly turned his face towards the shadowy corner of the room that slept to his left.

“There is already not much difference between our positions,” Samuel carefully answered. “With my brothers in line before me and little chance of war ever knocking on our doors, what is left for me? Correspondence I do not understand, taxations I hate to enforce, audiences with counsels in languages I struggle to speak. Veronica would thrive with these responsibilities, I’m certain of it. If I could gift it to her, I would. With lace and bows.”

Daniel frowned sympathetically as the prince became lost in thought, drawing a knee up to his cheek and resting his head while Daniel watched over him and considered his perspective.

To Daniel, Samuel’s life had always seemed like the ideal hand anyone could be dealt. He had never considered the unsavory clauses in the contract of his life, and he felt almost cruel for it. The princes and princess were ever opulent and commanding when he had been in their presence, but as Daniel observed the youngest prince, he couldn’t help but think that he looked small. Vulnerable. He didn’t know that was something a prince could be.

“If there was anything I could do to change things,” Daniel began, his voice low and measured as he carefully worked through his response. “I would do that for you. For all of you. Many long for the control you wish you could shed. Forgive me for finding it strange to hear these sentiments, but I swear to never repeat them. Rest easy knowing this.”

Samuel was quiet for a minute longer before turning his eyes back on Daniel. His face was rosy and smiling in the low light. The weight of his lashes cast shadows that trickled down his cheeks.

“And may you rest easy knowing your kindness does not go unnoticed,” Samuel replied softly.

“I would be a fool to be unkind to you, Your Highness.”

“There is control you hold, Daniel, when you address me. Or have you forgotten?”

“My apologies. Samuel.”

Samuel grinned and began to scoot down under his blankets, happily bundling himself up as he beamed at Daniel across the room.

“Keep up with your kindness and someday I will let you call me Sam. Until then, you can call me your friend.”

Daniel startled while Samuel bid him a quiet goodnight and turned away from him, sinking into the mattress and sighing peacefully as Daniel’s face began to simmer with recognition. He strode around the room and extinguished the candles, pondering their conversation as he fell back into repose on his chair, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes against the needling slivers of moonlight that ventured through the curtains.

To call the prince by a nickname felt overwhelming. Their friendship washed over him in cold waves, and he choked on its implications until the hours of the early morning. The thing that truly worried him was not the weight of their comradery. It was the fact that he wanted more.

“You amuse me, Daniel.”

“For what reason is it tonight?”

“Months now you’ve watched over me in my chambers and yet you still sit so far from me.”

“Is that not the purpose of my presence?”

Samuel grinned impishly at Daniel’s back as he kept it turned to allow Samuel to put on his nightclothes without audience. At first, Daniel had waited outside as he dressed, but now they had picked up a habit of Samuel having Daniel follow him directly from the parlor after dinner and making him face the wall patiently while they chatted. Which Daniel did with no qualms, of course, but that didn’t mean his neck and ears didn’t flush with anxious heat as he thought of the prince undressing within arms length of him. Even in nightclothes, Samuel was always covered head to toe, leaving much to the imagination. Daniel had begun to admit to himself that he imagined more than he found suitable for someone in his position, and it filled him with deep, dark guilt.

“You are exceedingly tall, I do not worry about you getting to the window in record time if the occasion arose,” Samuel hummed as he buttoned his shirt. “Your legs would carry you quickly.”

“Where would you prefer me to keep my station, then?” Daniel asked, somewhat nervous.

“Sit in the chair beside my bed,” Samuel demanded coolly, flouncing over to his bed and taking a moment to run his fingers over the red velvet chair that sat near where his head would soon lay. Daniel met his eye with a look of level headed surprise, but Samuel only smiled innocently as he cracked his neck and crawled under the covers. Daniel hesitated, but started his stride to the spot beside the bed despite it. Samuel frowned and held up a hand well acquainted with attitude.

“Ah, my candles?” the prince requested sharply, rolling his wrist to gesture at them. Daniel froze once more, waiting until Samuel made a little “shoo” motion to do his round around the room to extinguish them, feeling that same panicked warmth beginning to twist his stomach into confused knots. This change of routine was odd, but wasn’t the entire situation? Perhaps there was nothing to be divined from Samuel’s sudden appeal.

In the bed, Samuel watched Daniel as happily as he always did when he bowed to his every demand. His happiness was layered with a familiar, often caged stirring that he also felt when watching his loyal guard. He had decided a week in advance that it would not be left caged much longer. Samuel tried not to betray his excitement and contradictory apprehension as Daniel turned back to him and their eyes met.

“Oh, the day that I’ve had,” Samuel lamented as Daniel approached him and cautiously sat down, already feeling shaky from the proximity. “I’ve begun to think I’m unwell from all the worrying I’ve done.”

“You’ve looked well enough,” Daniel offered optimistically.

“I don’t feel well,” Samuel groaned, dramatically smacking the back of his hand against his forehead. “Tell me, Daniel, do I feel warm?”

With the small amount of moonlight peering in, Daniel was able to see the prince’s glittering, expectant eyes looking up at him as he removed his hand and seemingly waited for Daniel to replace it with his own.

“I’m not permitted to touch any member of your family unless it were under emergency circumstances,” Daniel explained clearly. “But I can tell you that if I were to, I wouldn’t expect to feel any warmth that would warrant concern.”

“Daniel,” Samuel whined, playing with the intonation of his name in a hushed, low voice that sent a refreshing chill through Daniel. “Tell me, who do you see in this room? It’s only me, isn’t it? And I have no reason to make a report of any kind when I’m the one requesting your aid. Now, would you please?”

Fighting to keep steady, Daniel placed a careful hand on the prince’s forehead. Samuel closed his eyes at the contact and smiled with such pride it bordered on lechery.

“You feel very normal,” Daniel appraised, allowing himself the pleasure of letting his hand rest for a moment longer than he felt was appropriate. When his muscles twitched slightly and he was reminded of just what he was doing, he went to lift his arm. However, Samuel’s hand was up in a flash to cover his own and press his palm flat against Samuel’s skin.

“Keep it there for a moment longer, if you may,” Samuel whispered. “It is the first comfort I’ve felt all day.”

“What has kept you in such a state of anguish?” Daniel asked, desperate to distract himself from the drunken feeling that was seeping into him through Samuel’s touch. His hand on Daniel’s was a reminder of his humanity, as well as the startling reality that this person Daniel tended to and thought of day in and day out was capable of not only being touched, but wanting to be touched.

“My father, as always,” Samuel griped, his eyes still closed but his dark brow crinkling in distaste. “He is hardly elderly and far from ill, and yet he’s begun to invest more and more of his time into arranging prospective brides and suitors for my siblings and I to hold an audience with. It is simply maddening, all this talk of travel and weddings.”

“You do not wish to be wed?” When Daniel asked it, he heard a glimmer of hope in his words that drove his guilt deeper through him.

“To a stranger? A stranger that I will be strung to for my entire life? A stranger who I must treat well or potentially risk breaking an allyship with an entire foreign nation? I would never wish for that. I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. I’ve always wished to marry for love.”

Samuel breathed out a pitiful, longing sigh and his thumb began to massage the back of Daniel’s hand, who stared at the sight as if frozen to where he sat. It was a misplaced attempt at self soothing by the prince, Daniel decided. He decided upon it mostly to avoid further cluttering of his thoughts. And cluttered they certainly were.

“Perhaps you will find love with your princess,” Daniel offered soothingly. “Many in your position do. Besides, it’s not as if you would be able to find love with anyone within the palace walls that would be permissible for you to marry.”

“I know this,” Samuel replied darkly, suddenly bitter and sharp as his thumb ceased motion. “Am I not allowed to wish?”

“Of course you are,” Daniel replied, relenting in an instant. “I am truly sorry for-”

“No apology is necessary,” the prince cut him off. He opened his eyes and turned his doe eyed stare on Daniel. “You are right, after all. Forgive me. My headache is making me cruel.”

“You’re never cruel,” Daniel murmured. “Not to me.”

The sentiment was well placed, but ultimately untrue. In the years he had served alongside the prince, Samuel had never shied from lighting the short fuse of his temper in his presence and basking in the praise Daniel would lay upon him in an attempt to quell his tantrums. As Daniel thought about it, he thought of how it had been a while since Samuel had dealt him an outburst. Before this instance, it had to have been months. What had been subduing him?

A minute passed in silence. Samuel’s grip on Daniel’s hand weakened and for a moment, Daniel wondered if he had begun to drift into sleep. He wondered how long he could stare at the dreaming face of the sleeping prince before it felt sinful. However, Samuel let out a huff and spoke once more.

“There is so much I don’t understand,” Samuel sighed, mournful and serious. “To talk of it for hours on end has sent me spiraling. I’m nearly afraid when I think of my wedding night.”

“You should hold no fear towards it, Your Highness. I think it’s a night to look forward to. What would make it so terrible?”

“Simply that I don’t quite know what I will do when the door is closed and I am alone with my new bride. I don’t know what I will do when we are supposed to finalize our wedded duties and…consummate the union.”

Daniel felt the air leave his chest and he dearly wanted to remove himself from the room entirely as the imagery of Sam’s words began to unfurl and spin in Daniel’s mind. What made it all the more excruciating was the physical rise in temperature he felt under his palm. It sizzled somewhere inside Samuel and reached out to him. Daniel sent up a prayer begging for the prince to stop looking up at him the way he was, but it fell on deaf ears.

“I trust your advisors will arrange an education for you before the time comes,” Daniel managed to say, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “You shouldn’t worry about that at all. Think of the ceremony and-”

“I don’t trust those stuffy clods to know what happens,” Samuel continued on, glossing over Daniel’s smooth attempt to change the subject. “It will all be so clinical and calculated as their lectures always are. I will leave more inept than when I began. I’m told consorting outside of conjugal relations occurs far more frequently in the kingdom than it ever does inside the castle. If I were to be the one to decide, I would want someone of a more common class to teach. To show me.”

Daniel stared at the plain cuff of his sleeve resting against Samuel’s hair as Samuel tilted his head towards him ever so slightly, his grip on Daniel’s hand applying a pressure so light that anyone who was not so attuned to it may not have even noticed. But Daniel noticed. He noticed nothing else. He breathed only through his nose as he attempted in vain to pull his usually very clever brain out of its state of bewilderment at Samuel’s peculiar behavior.

“Perhaps you can have it your way,” Daniel answered meekly. “You could have it arranged.”

“I am permitted most things if I play my hand right, but my parents would never allow this,” Sam asserted, a slight gravel dusting his voice. “I’m certain they fear the corruption of my thoughts. They definitely fear that I’ll try to exorcise my urges with those of lower status. It may be too late for that, unfortunately for them.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you speak of,” Daniel murmured, cursing in his mind when he heard his words waver as he spoke. Samuel seemed to catch this and smiled with a feline flirt at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m sure you do,” Samuel retorted in a voice just as quiet but twice as assured. “You know which tutor I would request if I were to have things my way.”

Daniel couldn’t find any feasible way to respond to the prince’s suggestive tone. He watched with rapt attention and wide eyes as Samuel turned over onto his stomach and manually moved Daniel’s hand to cup his cheek, closing his eyes as he nuzzled into his palm before looking up at him again with lowered lids and his eyebrows nestled together in undeniable desire. Daniel swallowed thickly as a fuzzy wash of adrenaline blurred inside him at the sight. He found himself unable to look away from the prince despite it being the one thing he knew he should be doing. It didn’t cross his mind once to simply remove his hand and stand away.

As a member of the royal guard, Daniel had been trained to be highly knowledgeable and reliable for countless scenarios that could besiege him or those he swore to defend. And yet, there had been no counsel in matters of temptation, something that seemed frivolous and borderline impossible coming from the royals themselves. Temptation stared up at him now, with parted lips and artfully crafted words that had drawn him in and trapped him before he had the wherewithal to realize how far he had fallen. Daniel thought of the evening when he had told the prince that there was nothing he would not swear to him. If he denied him now, he would be breaking that vow. If he denied him now, he would be denying himself as well. Hadn’t he spent enough time doing that?

“You ask me to advise you?” Daniel questioned when he gathered the strength to speak once more. Samuel smiled, the high apple of his cheek pressing against Daniel’s palm as he leaned into it once more.

“Yes,” Samuel answered, sounding near breathless. “Consider it an education. For this evening, you will act as I will when I have my princess. I will act as the latter.”

“I…don’t know how we would go about this,” Daniel stammered, feeling his throat begin to tighten anxiously as Samuel tilted his jaw and brushed his lips under Daniel’s thumb. “This is already-”

“I’m aware of the circumstances, Daniel,” Samuel interjected, his lips buzzing against Daniel’s skin as he spoke curtly. “I have been aware of them for a while. Too long. A moment longer would feel torturous, if I’m being perfectly honest. And now I have given you this circumstance to uphold your responsibility of fulfilling royal need while also fulfilling yourself, which is a grace that I presume you have not been often given. Now would you please stop acting as though either of our titles or birthright have any kind of meaning to each other anymore and join me where I lay?”

Struck speechless, Daniel wavered for only a moment before obliging the prince as he always did and getting to his feet. In doing so, he finally ripped himself from Samuel, whose expression darkened with upset and confusion before calming as he realized that all Daniel was doing was removing his sword from its scabbard and leaning it against the wall. He unbuckled the scabbard and tossed it on the chair, remaining silent and stone faced as he usually did. Despite this, inside Daniel’s mind, he felt such overwhelming excitement and improper giddiness that it warranted this mask of calm. Samuel grinned with pure satisfaction as he made a show of throwing off the covers and sitting up, patting a space on the bed next to him. Daniel lowered himself to the mattress and stared down at the eager prince, who leaned his thigh against Daniel’s and smiled smugly.

“How wonderful to have you so close,” Samuel hummed quietly, turning his head to the side to appraise Daniel’s face through the cover of night. “You are always over my shoulder or at a distance, it seems.”

“It is not as though this is the first time you have seen me,” Daniel muttered, following Samuel’s cue to keep their voices hushed.

“It feels like it,” Samuel whispered, lifting a hesitant hand to trace the proud slope of Daniel’s freckled nose. “You are exquisite. I shall send you to my portrait painting session next week in my stead.”

“I thought we were to be discussing your education.”

“I thought I made it clear enough that “discussion” would be kept at a minimum,” Samuel rasped, leaning forward slightly and staring unabashedly at Daniel’s lips. “Must you keep playing the fool? Do you enjoy causing your prince such distress?”

“Certainly not,” Daniel answered sincerely. “But I admit I cannot help but feel a great amount of hesitation towards this…indulgence. There will be consequences.”

“There is not an earthly soul I would speak of this to,” Samuel insisted, shifting forward further so that he could place a firm hand on Daniel’s chest. “I haven’t even prayed for it. It has lived inside of me only in dreams. There is no one who would know but you and I, and it shall stay that way if you keep it from the ears of the guard.”

“The guard stands post outside your door as we speak,” Daniel reminded Samuel, leaning in as he spoke in urgency. “And he especially has sharp ears, which is why he holds the position he does.”

“The guard has been relinquished from his post for the evening,” Samuel whispered, his dark eyes sparkling wickedly with clandestine glee. “My father was informed this morning that my anxiety has been quelled enough by your presence to warrant this.”

Daniel was astonished by this admission. His eyes worked their way over Samuel’s face, which was painted with growing licentious pleasure as he continued further into the space between them. Daniel’s cheeks burned with a furious mix of shock and sudden, inexplicable appetite.

“You have made me your concubine,” Daniel seethed with searing heat of inextinguishable and undetermined source.

Samuel held his fiery stare for an agonizing amount of time before moving. Samuel’s hand on Daniel’s chest smoothed over his collarbone and shoulder before finding purchase behind his neck, where he gripped and pulled Daniel forward until their noses slid side by side and Sam’s lips fluttered against Daniel’s when they moved once more.

“I have made you my king,” Samuel hissed fiercely, his words rushing over each other as they spilled out. “I have languished over you, an act truly unbecoming of a prince, wouldn’t you say? I spend every day mourning your absence and every night gratified by your presence. Do not dare speak of my feelings towards you when you know so little of their depths, Daniel.”

“Surely you can’t have ‘felt’ this way for long.”

“Since the day of my 18th birthday and you knelt and swore your life to my family. To me. You looked up from your knee and I have not known peace since. From that day on, you have stayed at my back like the sun on my skin and remained in my mind like a hymnal I cannot forget. How can you not know this? How have you not felt it?”

“How could I?”

Samuel let out a frustrated breath and removed his grip from Daniel’s neck, sitting back slightly and petulantly pushing his hands against Daniel’s chest in annoyance. A breath of bottled relief trembled from Daniel’s throat as he watched Samuel’s tantrum, unresponsive to the prince’s irritation as he attempted in vain to absorb all of his revelations. The warmth of Samuel’s face against his own was still at the forefront of his mind, where Daniel was certain it was never to stray.

“How could you not feel it? Half of my days are spent trying to catch your eye. Did you think I only meant to distract you from your surveillance?” Samuel snapped.

“It is what is accomplished in doing so. You have always been terribly distracting,” Daniel confessed. It felt wrong to say, but Samuel’s expression lifted ever so slightly and Daniel watched his pout rise to a delighted, slightly smug smile.

“As are you,” Samuel responded. His hands on Daniel’s chest relaxed and he suddenly seemed shy of their presence against the linen. He gingerly curled his fingers into his palm for only a moment before flattening them and smoothing the wrinkles in the fabric dotingly.

“Why do you think I mean to shift my duties when my brother comes to power? There is no time for them when my head is filled with such dreams,” Samuel murmured wistfully. His brow was still knit as if in the throes of his grievance, but his voice was newly bashful. Daniel, slowly becoming emboldened by Samuel’s words as well as being blinded to the reality that lay outside the door, finally found the strength to reach for the prince. His hand rose and allowed a single finger to remove a stray wave of mahogany hair from Samuel’s cheek and tuck it behind his ear. Samuel froze at the contact and stared up at Daniel in wonder.

“You keep saying you have these dreams that torment you so,” Daniel began, continuing to push back the prince’s hair with a gentle hand. “And yet you’ve told me nothing. Please…tell me.”

Samuel looked at him longingly for a second more before leaning into Daniel again, his arms going around his neck and Daniel’s own impulsively moving to Samuel’s waist. There was a flurry of reflex and motion as Daniel clumsily pushed himself back further onto the mattress and the prince ended up on his lap, clinging to Daniel wildly as his lips went to his ear. In order to speak, he resisted the urge to bite.

“It matters little if I’m asleep or sitting on the throne. In these dreams, we are far from dynasty and these ridiculous rules that keep me from you now,” Samuel purred, his longing tone sending nettles of adrenaline biting at Daniel’s insides.

“We ride horses during our days and sit beside one another for meals, with no qualms of hierarchy to keep us apart. Then, at night, we make love like the Greeks.”

Samuel’s sentence ended in a heavy, drawn out whisper that echoed in Daniel’s ear. Samuel drew back slightly to observe the way Daniel’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips pressed to allow a shaky swallow pass through his throat. Daniel’s long, wide hands held the length of the prince’s hips, and Samuel enjoyed the flicker of unintentional pressure that pulsed through Daniel’s fingers.

Daniel’s face was tense with emotion and thought but entirely unreadable. Samuel’s body became alight with nerves as he worried himself into a stupor that he had done what he was so scared of doing, which was driving his beloved guard away from him and all of his heavy, silly feelings. He knew he had come on strong, but he hadn’t been able to conceive of a way where he could tell Daniel what he thought and not tell him absolutely everything.

“I have known you all my life, Samuel, and yet I am realizing there is so little I know about you,” Daniel finally said. There was a dreamy fascination to his deep voice that made Samuel’s nerves flutter again, but in a different sort of way. Daniel’s head tilted and one black eyebrow arched as he regarded Samuel, and Samuel felt his hips tightening involuntarily as he fought not to adjust himself on Daniel’s lap.

“Even after all the time we’ve spent in these chambers when you were meant to be resting and I was meant to be alert, it seems there is much about you I’ve never known. You enjoy little deceptions is what I have realized just now, hearing you speak this way to me.”

Samuel’s eyebrows raised listening to Daniel. Part of it was the haughty royal blood running through his veins beginning to boil at the audacity of someone daring to call him out, but another part of it that was well acquainted with this royal attitude was secretly thrilled that he was being seen by Daniel.

“If your sexual education has been so lackluster it warrants guidance with hands and not quills to parchment, you would not know of the Greeks and their habits,” Daniel pointed out with the beginnings of a smile. “Certainly not enough to fantasize about it day and night. It makes me wonder about what other little lies have brought me to you in this way.”

With all his years of repression and dissatisfaction, Samuel found his mouth hanging open as he panted with anticipation, his needy hands coming up to clutch Daniel’s slightly stubbled jaw and tilt it to align with his own. Samuel needed more than anything to kiss him, but Daniel spoke again before he could strike.

“May I ask one thing?” Daniel requested with a voice so gravelly and soft it could not be heard even mere inches away from where they clung to each other.

If either of them had been paying attention to anything besides the feeling of the other’s erratic heartbeats joining where their chests rested only centimeters apart, they may have realized this was the first occasion where Daniel had requested something of Samuel. A subtle reclamation of power that would aid him in hours to come.

“You may,” Samuel permitted.

“I took post in your room because of a dream so intense that you spoke of it to the king and insisted that I was your only reprieve. Were there really any ever nightmares of assassins? Or when you spoke of intensity, were you speaking of these dreams you’ve just told me of?”

Samuel leaned back to gaze at him fully, anchoring himself with his hands still on Daniel’s face as Daniel’s hazel eyes kept post on Samuel’s mouth, awaiting an answer in whatever form it came.

“No nightmares,” Samuel breathed, feeling rare shame as he admitted it. “I only find nightmares when I think of my life as it is planned out for me, the same way I find dreams when I think of life as I have planned it for myself. When speaking falsely of nightmares, I secretly spoke these dreams to life. At least, I hope I did. Do you suppose I did?”

“Perhaps,” Daniel answered mysteriously. “But we’re not in that realm of reality right now, are we? I recall your ‘lesson’ for this evening was that I was to play the prince and you were to play my princess. Or do you not want that anymore?”

Samuel’s last string of restraint holding him back snapped and he used his grip on Daniel’s jaw to pull their lips together and melt into the desperate, fiery kiss he had dreamed of since the day they had met. Samuel’s lower back reacted innately and arched lightly at the contact, and Daniel’s fingers dug into his clothed skin as they moved together in awkward, blissful harmony.

While they kissed, Samuel’s mind was following the plots of a hundred, preplanned daydreams that all ended in similar fates of him tangled in bedsheets. Daniel’s mind, on the other hand, was entirely blank. His mind couldn’t begin to paint pictures when his focus was kept solely on the shivering, heavy breathing royal that bruised his lips and pulled at the thick hair nearest his scalp.

“Call me that again,” Samuel begged breathlessly when they had no choice but to break for a breath of fresh air. “Call me what I am in your arms.”

“I will do whatever you ask of me,” Daniel sighed, one hand smoothing down Samuel’s thigh and holding the back of it. “My princess.”

Samuel, betraying the lasting legacy of his intimidating, affluent ancestry, burst into flushed giggles and buried his face in the crook of Daniel’s neck. Daniel let out an airy little laugh of his own and nuzzled his nose into the silken hair by Samuel’s ear.

“My funny little princess,” Daniel hummed. “Spoiled, funny little princess who loves to deceive. I’m left unconvinced you’re prepared for the ways of the Greeks, so I’ll count that as another deceit.”

“No fair,” Samuel lamented, his voice muffled by Daniel’s linen tunic. “Don’t you think we should try nonetheless?”

“As your advisor, I must recommend we begin on a much smaller scale,” Daniel whispered, planting a kiss against Samuel’s hair and squeezing his waist. “We’ll start with having you lay down. Simple enough.”

“I do not want ‘simple’,” Samuel whined further, swinging his leg off of Daniel’s lap and theatrically dropping sideways to land with his head on the pillow. “But I suppose I will be willing to postpone such extremities of the body if it is what you suggest.”

“You are too gracious,” Daniel teased lightly. He took the time to slip off his shoes and then turned to carefully crawl over the prince, still feeling an immense sense of wrongness at making contact with the expensive quilts and sheets. He felt that all too familiar sliver of panic and unease being so close to the prince. However, the returning awareness of the precariousness of the evening quickly faded as Daniel’s face came to hover over Samuel’s, who stared up at him with naivety and his bottom lip tucked gently between his teeth. A sight like this was enough to remind Daniel that he would risk losing his head if it meant getting to see Samuel like this for even a single second more.

“You have me laying now,” Samuel whispered, his cool hands rising to hold Daniel’s jaw once more. “What would be the next course of action?”

“I suppose I…” Daniel trailed off nervously, his eyes fluttering as he looked down the graceful throat of the prince and followed it down to the pearl buttons of his nightshirt. “I would undress you.”

“Proceed then,” Samuel grinned giddily. “We are lucky indeed I have no petticoats and corsets for you to strip me of.”

“You will certainly struggle more than I on your wedding night,” Daniel murmured as he hesitantly began to undo the buttons of Samuel’s shirt. His breath came in sharp shivers as the thoughts of Samuel with another person came in stride with the unveiling of the prince’s smooth skin under his hands.

“I will struggle because it will not be you I’m with,” Samuel replied with a frown, looking down at Daniel sitting back on his lap to finish undoing the last of the buttons and pushing the thin fabric off of his shoulders and tossing it onto the floor. Samuel took in a shaky breath when Daniel’s fingers hovered along his waistband, but he watched with curiosity as Daniel’s face flickered with conflicted emotion before removing his hands and bowing his head to press a kiss to the bony crest of Samuel’s collarbones, who received the touch with a smothered sound of surprise. Daniel continued kissing along his collarbones and chest, taking a pause in his journey to flatten his tongue over the prince’s nipples, looking up to gauge his reaction and seeing only the underside of Samuel’s jaw as he tossed his head back against the pillow and whimpered.

“You are exceedingly sensitive,” Daniel noted calmly, beginning a slow descent past Samuel’s ribcage and down his toned stomach. “Is it forbidden to touch yourself before you’re wed?”

“It’s a sin!” Samuel exclaimed, propping himself up on his elbows to face Daniel properly, who looked amused by his sudden outburst. “It is no conjugal matter. You mean to say you do?”

“Who is there to see it happen?”

“God!”

“If He was so insistent on punishing me for a sin as egregious as you make it seem, He would not have blessed me with such ecstasy as you,” Daniel whispered, keeping his eyes on the flushed prince as he kissed just under his belly button. Samuel let out an unbelieving huff of air, allowing one hand to weave itself in the raven dark curls of Daniel’s hair as he shook his head.

“I have laid with a devil,” Samuel muttered, a little breathless as Daniel’s sharp, freckled nose dragged along his skin. Daniel chuckled softly and the hot breath on Samuel’s skin drew another involuntary noise from Samuel, causing him to cringe slightly with embarrassment.

“There is no part of this exchange that is free from what others may define as ‘sin’, fair prince,” Daniel remarked. “But ‘sin’ is only what we make of it. I fear it is often confused with pleasure, which is, in truth, the farthest thing from what I find sinful. But if you so desire, we can pray after all is said and done.”

“I will decide then,” Samuel insisted, trying hard not to pant as Daniel’s chin pressed against his waistband. “As for now…”

“Ah, yes, your lesson,” Daniel smiled, sitting up once more. “Now, when the time comes, matters of anatomy will be quite different, I hope you know.”

“You think yourself funny,” Samuel groaned, rolling his eyes. “I know quite well.”

“A skilled teacher always checks,” Daniel joked, his fingers now ghosting over the raised lap of the prince. “A pity, truly, that you will not be met with the beauty I know lies under my hand now.”

Samuel flushed and watched with the heartrate of a hummingbird in flight as Daniel looped his thumbs and began to slowly tug down Samuel’s pants. Before his straining member could meet the cold night air, Samuel found himself reaching out and grasping Daniel’s wrists, who looked at him with a startled expression and rosy cheeks.

“Do you not think the princess would attend to her prince first?” Samuel asked hurriedly, trying not to sound desperate and finding himself unsuccessful as Daniel’s eyebrow arched curiously. Daniel blinked once before smiling slowly and looking down at where Samuel held him by the arm.

“I suppose it would matter whether the princess felt the obligation,” Daniel started, flicking his forest eyes back up to Samuel’s before finishing his thought. “Or if she felt the want. There is a world of difference between the two sentiments.”

“She would want to,” Samuel answered, releasing his grip on Daniel and leaning in slightly to deliver a look of insistence. “This, I swear. The prince would be crazed to think otherwise.”

“I always feel crazed in your presence, it cannot be helped,” Daniel breathed. He sealed the distance between them with another fervent kiss before pulling back and getting off of the bed, standing tall as a cliff’s face in comparison to the seated prince, who stared up in wonder as Daniel began to remove his shirt.

“Well, I could have helped with that,” Samuel complained with a pout. Daniel laughed and fully pulled his top off, revealing his broad shoulders and a dark scattering of hair across his toned chest. Samuel’s pout quickly fell at the sight, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly as another one of his dreams came to fruition before his very eyes. Daniel shrank slightly under his gaze as he usually did, but after Samuel reached out mindlessly to brush his fingers against the muscles of his stomach, Daniel found some confidence stored deep inside.

“If you had helped, you would have dawdled,” Daniel accused, tossing his hair off his shoulder with a flex of his neck as he began to unbutton his simple black pants. “And I trust my princess would want her spoils sooner rather than later, would she not?”

Samuel only nodded in response, feeling incapable of answering with words that would keep him anywhere close to his princely status. Daniel smiled at him fondly as he allowed his pants to fall, leaving him in only his undershorts, which kept his now distracting erection barely covered as it left its outline along the thin, white fabric. Spoiled as ever, Samuel had a hand on it the moment it was freed. He gave one, slow, curious stroke of his hand, allowing soft skin to slide along his palm and wrenching a fluttering groan from the back of Daniel’s throat at the sensation and sight. Daniel inhaled sharply as Samuel’s jaw hung open, staring unabashedly at the length.

“I will admit I now understand your urgings to proceed with caution,” Samuel stammered. “I will no doubt require an…adjustment period.”

“I will see to it personally,” Daniel purred, taking hold of Samuel’s chin and raising his eyebrows at him encouragingly. “But we mustn’t worry about that tonight. There is much to be done if we are to beat the sunrise.”

Daniel prepared himself to return to the bed, but before he had the chance to move, Samuel dipped his head to purse his lips against the flushed head of Daniel’s cock, leaving a chaste kiss and wrenching a strained groan from Daniel’s throat. The hand on Samuel’s chin swam swiftly into his hair, holding him still so that Daniel was pulled forward into the hot velvet of Samuel’s mouth. Emitting a slight gag, Samuel looked up with watery eyes as he panted around Daniel’s length, finally dragging his tongue along the underside of it and feeling butterflies of affirmation as Daniel’s head fell backwards with a sigh.

After a few minutes of cautious soothing with his lips and tongue, Samuel leaned back, wiping a small stream of spit off his chin with the heel of his palm.

“Is this alright?” Samuel asked with a slight crack in his voice.

“If it’s not enjoyable for you, you can use your hand,” Daniel instructed through shallow breaths. “Or we can turn attention to you, if you think-”

Samuel answered him by returning his mouth to Daniel’s cock, smiling when he breathed in and allowed further passage into his throat. Daniel resisted the urge to toss his head and stare up at the gracious stars to thank them for bringing him here. Instead, he kept his eyes on the prince and his eager if adorably clumsy pace, enjoying the slow bob of his head as he suckled gently.

“Have you practiced this often in those dreams of yours, Samuel?” Daniel rasped, feeling disappointingly close to finishing. He wanted to stretch this perfect blue night as long as he possibly could before it felt entirely greedy. With his mouth still firmly attached, Samuel gave a slow nod, his head pushing forwards and back with the motion of it and causing Daniel’s eyes to roll into his head reflexively. He thought of Samuel sleeping mere feet from him for months on end dreaming of occasions such as this and reveled privately at the thrill it gave him. Daniel felt almost powerful, and found himself thrusting into the prince’s mouth, who responded with whimpering gags and tears beginning to glimmer in his pale waterline. Had it been only an hour ago, Daniel would have dropped to his knees in a moment at the sight of Samuel in tears. But now, he found it shockingly erotic.

“You’ve practiced well,” Daniel breathed, nearly unable to speak as all of his senses became lost in the warmth of Samuel’s mouth. “You betray your “innocence” again with your knowledge.”

The prince’s gaze met Daniel’s as he slowly pulled off of him and Daniel registered an amused flicker in the amber of Samuel’s eyes. To Daniel’s surprise, Samuel had no snappy retort to deal in retaliation. Samuel simply kept his eyes firmly on Daniel as he steadied his breathing through flushed, swollen lips and nuzzled his cheek against Daniel’s cock.

“My apologies,” Samuel finally rasped with a creeping smile. “If you were anyone else, you would understand the lengths that someone would go to get you close.”

“How close would you like to be?” Daniel teased, heart racing so fast he feared it would burst before he got to unwrap his regal present entirely.

“Closer,” whispered the prince, turning inwards to deliver one last kiss to Daniel’s erection before rising to his feet and pressing their bare chests together. “Much closer. Deeper.”

“I told you to wait for that,” Daniel grinned against Samuel’s lips, which were brushing against his as the prince’s hands grasped his exposed waist and smoothed up and over his ribs. Under Samuel’s graceful fingers, Daniel’s skin was as soft and hot as the first rays of sunlight on Samuel’s pillow in the mornings. The prince swallowed thickly at the sensation, losing himself for a moment at the thought of greeting Daniel in his undressed state between sun warmed sheets.

“I don’t want to wait,” Samuel grumbled for the millionth time as he spoke into Daniel’s mouth.

It was clear he was beyond sullen that he wouldn’t be getting the Grecian love he had so hoped for, and while Daniel always found Samuel’s persistence and lamenting overwhelmingly endearing, there was a flicker of irritation inside him at having to repeat himself so frequently. There was so much of him that was still terrified to speak sharply to the prince, but then he became assured in the remembrance that this evening was free of consequence for him. Daniel’s hand snaked around the small of Samuel’s back and drew Sam even closer at his request, keeping Daniel’s member trapped between them in a self made chamber of warmth and reactive muscles.

“When you stand as I do, you will have just as little tolerance for any incessant needling from your princess,” Daniel murmured in a firm hush as he watched Samuel’s eyes widen from his words and the new presence pressed against his stomach. “You will respect my authority on this matter, do you understand me? You will wait and you will air no more grievances about it.”

“I understand,” Samuel answered hurriedly, his voice as weak as Daniel could ever imagine but his tone was enthusiastic in a way that spilled over into the shaking urgency of his hands as they dug into Daniel’s flesh and pulled him into a steamy kiss. Samuel followed an instinct and opened his mouth against Daniel’s to dip his tongue in, whimpering softly when he felt Daniel smile. Enveloped in warmth, Samuel needed more.

“Daniel,” Samuel whined as Daniel’s mouth traveled across his cheek and along his jaw. “Lay with me. Test my patience no more.”

Instead of answering with a sharp tongued quip like he wanted to, Daniel bowed to his whim and placed a firm hand on Samuel’s chest to gently push him backwards onto the plush mattress. He, too, could wait no longer. With eyes closed and tongues shyly lapping at each other, they managed to maneuver themselves under the blankets and Samuel went as limp as a rag doll to assist Daniel with sliding his pajama pants off. With them both entirely exposed, Daniel lowered himself further down onto Samuel’s body and grinned wickedly against Samuel’s lips when the prince sighed into his mouth at the relief of their skin touching so solidly. Without even meaning to, Daniel’s hips reacted and gently ground into Samuel’s own narrow hips, jolting Daniel with a silken electricity that reminded him that he had neglected to get a good look at the prince’s own erection.

“Look at you, princess mine,” Daniel rumbled with a smile, straightening to sit with his knees pressing against the backs of Samuel’s thighs and admire the sight before him. “Divine, are you not? There’s no breath left in my chest.”

Samuel simply stared up at him as he panted for air, his eyes alight with a greedy gleam and his thick hair already frazzled and clinging to his neck and cheeks in sweaty rivulets. He looked desperate and, for the first time, wholly unroyal. With Daniel’s hand between them, they made eye contact and Daniel was struck by Samuel’s needy humanity. Daniel curled his wrist over Samuel’s slim cock a few times as he glided his fist from shaft to tip, which wrenched out a chesty groan from behind Samuel’s clenched teeth. But knowing what he knew about Samuel, he abandoned that venture quickly in favor of another proper demonstration. Samuel answered this with a frustrated outcry, grabbing at Daniel’s hand to attempt to replace it from where he’d removed it, but Daniel pulled away. He was to be Samuel’s teacher, after all. There was no time to waste.

“As I said prior, there will be a difference in anatomy,” Daniel explained breathlessly, skimming his hands up and down Samuel’s slim thighs. “I will attempt to remedy this to the best of my ability to aid in my teaching.”

“Please,” Samuel weakly responded. “Hurry. You torture me.”

“You are theatrical,” Daniel teased, guiding Samuel’s legs so his thighs pressed together and were drawn halfway up to his chest. “This will be far from torturous.”

Samuel propped himself up on his elbows and scrutinized the odd position Daniel was holding him in with his dark eyebrows drawn together and his flushed lip in a pout.

“Most unusual,” Samuel commented snidely. “And how would you say this-”

Before Samuel could continue his chiding comment, Daniel rose slightly and pressed the tip of his dick between Samuel’s thighs, clamping them together impossibly tighter around his length as he slid it along the supple furnace of the prince’s skin. In doing so, he found that when buried to the hilt between the prince’s thighs, he was sliding alongside Samuel’s own flushed cock. They both sighed moans of appreciation at the touch and Daniel flexed his hips backward to retrieve himself from Sam, pulling out entirely only to spit in his palm, soothe the saliva over his cock, and then return it to the valley he’d created for himself and their aching lengths.

“God,” Samuel whimpered through a shivering groan. “You are His mercy.”

“Is it too much?” Daniel worried as he struggled to halt the quickening pace he was setting for himself. Samuel let out a harsh bray of a laugh and his head fell back.

“Not enough,” Samuel complained haughtily, tensing his thighs and making Daniel swallow a squeak at the ecstasy of tight muscle. “Are you always so gentle?”

“Would you prefer me to not be gentle?” Daniel asked with an arched brow, leaning further over Samuel so that the tips of their noses were touching. “Consider it a test of what you’ve learned thus far, and since you know so much already, your Majesty, I expect you to answer correctly. Tell me: what would the princess most prefer?”

“He’d prefer it faster,” Samuel whispered, wearing a mischievous smile and daring to reach out his rosy tongue and lick across Daniel’s bottom lip. “Much faster.”

“He?” Daniel questioned with amusement, his tensed hips aching for movement but feeling unwilling to give the palace brat what he wanted too quickly.

“He,” Samuel confirmed, his own brow arching in a mockery of Daniel’s. “There will be no princess but I. I’m going to steal you away before they even get the chance to try and find me one. You have my word on that.”

“Steal me away to ride horses and sit side by side?” Daniel echoed with a cocky grin of his own, stealing Samuel’s words from when he’d been sat in his lap.

“Yes,” Samuel giggled in affirmation. “Not only that. We can watch the sun set over the hills. I could even sleep in your arms. Perhaps we’ll do all of those things for a very long time.”

Daniel’s stomach tensed in a different way then, twisting with longing so strong that he felt his heart reaching for Samuel’s own as their chests hovered over the other. They stared at each other for a moment that seemed to reach so long that it sent them out of time and space; into their own pocket of the world where seconds passed so slowly that they had nothing to do but study the face of the man they were beginning to love.

“I would like that,” Daniel replied softly. “Very much.”

“Wonderful,” Sam smiled, hands coming to rest on Daniel’s jaw. “Don’t forget to make love to me first. Or have you forgotten?”

“How could I?” Daniel purred, drawing his hips back and then forward so he could slide up against Samuel’s cock nice and slow. “When you feel this good? Never.”

The prince replied with a broken moan and cried out when Daniel began to thrust enthusiastically, fucking his thighs and member subsequently as Daniel’s ragged breaths moistened his lips and sent his head spinning. Samuel reached as best he could from his position and his state of mind to pull the covers up higher over Daniel’s waist and back, adding lustrous fabric and humidity that dewed on their skin deliciously. The friction, the weight of Daniel all over him, the drip of sweat into his mouth and rolling along his chest, the untouchable high of getting what he wanted…

Samuel was drunk.

Struck dumb.

And, in a moment’s time, cumming hard and hot on his stomach with his eyes rolled into his head and his nails digging into his guard’s shoulders. Daniel took note of it immediately, unable to look away from the mess the prince had made for them both to enjoy. He watched it trickle and glide against the flush of his own erection, providing a delicious new sensation as his thrusts grew erratic to signal the beginning of the end.

“Sam,” Daniel choked out, letting out a follow up gasp before coming to a shaky halt and spilling into the pool of cum that Samuel had already made. Samuel went entirely slack and sunk against the pillow and mattress, uncharacteristically calm and quiet as Daniel’s arms struggled to hold him up any longer and his breaths punched out in raspy huffs.

Blindly, Samuel reached out to the side and pulled a richly embroidered handkerchief from the pocket of the pajama shirt he’d long abandoned in favor of his carnal lesson. Ever the prince, he weakly held it up for Daniel, who took it from him with a chuckle and laboriously wiped down Samuel’s stomach. Samuel plucked it from his fingers and dramatically tossed it to the side, into the dark of the room that seemed to rematerialize around Daniel for the first time in what felt like ages. With his head clear and his dick softening, he remembered where he was done. What he’d just done.

And then, before he began to spiral in the expanse of reality crashing down on him, Daniel felt a tender hand reaching for the soft hair at his temple and fingers sliding against his scalp soothingly. He looked back down at the prince and was overwhelmed by his beauty; Samuel with his half lidded eyes and ruddy cheeks seemed to be somehow glowing as Daniel drank in the sight of him. His prince. Samuel’s dreamy smile lingered as he stared into Daniel’s dark eyes, expression slowly growing somber and contemplative as he continued to trace loving rows through the waves at Daniel’s right temple.

“Daniel,” Samuel breathed, his devotion as evident as if his name were a prayer. “Get me out of here.”

Daniel inhaled steadily, the heavy blanket of protectiveness he harbored towards his little prince bearing down on him then like the hand of justice choosing him as its weapon. At first he said nothing, instead leaning down and pressing an impassioned kiss against Samuel’s accepting lips. He let the kiss stretch on, welcoming the quiet warmth of Samuel’s tongue in his mouth and humming at the comfort. Then they parted and Daniel spoke, his vow relayed in a low and serious tone.

“I swear,” Daniel promised. “Soon these will be all our nights. This, I swear.”

After a few minutes of convincing, Daniel agreed to settle into the bed and hold the prince until he fell asleep. Daniel kept him flush against his chest and waited what seemed to be only a moment or two until Samuel was breathing steadily, his closed eyes darting around in a dream. Daniel couldn’t resist kissing his sleeping face with featherlight touch and tracing the bridge of his nose as Samuel had done to him earlier in the night. Silently vowing again that someday soon, Samuel would wake up in one of his dreams, where Daniel would be waiting with open arms and a racing heart. Daniel would honor the promise he’d made to his prince time and time again and deliver exactly what Samuel demanded of him.

No matter the consequences.

~~~

#huzzah #gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #sam kiszka #karoufiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fic #greta van fleet fic

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 15 hours ago

Text

what am i to you | pablo gavi [part ii]

🌧️ synopsis: In an attempt to get over Pablo, you go on a date, only to end up in the hospital with a sprained ankle. When Pablo shows up uninvited, trying to take care of you, the moment turns into a full-blown fight. tags: angst, unrequited love, emotional tension. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 2.5k words)

you can read the first part here.

After the confession, you both said you'd stay in each other's lives, like nothing had changed. You promised. But promises, you realize, are easier said than kept.

The calls become even rarer, and when they do come, they’re awkward, halting. He used to be the first person you’d call when you were bored, the one you’d go to when you needed to vent or laugh, and now? Now you just… don’t.

That’s when you meet him – this other guy. He’s nice, funny enough, interested. And he’s not Pablo. You don’t have butterflies, but there’s a kind of safety in that, a relief in the way he looks at you with no expectations, no memories weighing you down. So when he asks you out, you say yes, not because you’re excited, but because you’re desperate to move forward, to stop feeling like you’re stuck in that moment when Pablo said, “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want.”

The night of the date, you’re almost ready when your phone rings. It’s Pablo, and your heart jumps, he hasn’t called in weeks, and it’s like he knew, like he somehow sensed that you were trying to step away from him for good.

You answer, trying to sound normal. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he says, his voice distant, like he’s not sure if he’s intruding. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you say, trying to keep it casual. You’re trying to decide between two different shoes for the date, and it feels wrong. “I guess we’ve both been… busy.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. But you’re not about to get into that now. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, all dressed up, ready to leave.

“Actually,” you interrupt, “I’m kind of in a hurry. I have… plans.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you can almost picture the look on his face – confused, caught off guard. “Plans?” he asks, and you can hear an edge in his voice now, one he’s trying to hide. “Like… a date?”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing yourself to sound like it’s not a big deal. “I’m going out with someone.”

“With who?”

“Just… someone I met,” you say, trying to brush it off, “We’ve only talked a couple of times.”

There’s silence, and you’re about to check if he’s still on the line when he says, “So that’s what you’re doing now? Just going out with random guys?”

You get defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he snaps, his anger leaking into his words. “It’s just… you’re already –” He stumbles over the words, his voice tight. “Is that what you want now?”

“It’s not like that,” you insist, feeling the heat rise in your face. “You’re the one who –” You stop yourself because you promised you wouldn’t do this. You wouldn't blame him. But he doesn’t make it easy.

He lets out a bitter laugh, and it cuts deeper than you’d like to admit. “No, go ahead. Say it.”

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lash back. “I miss you,” you say.

“It doesn’t look like you do,” he says quietly, and there’s a hurt there you didn’t expect.

Your chest tightens, and you can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes. “Pablo, you stopped calling,” you say, your voice breaking. “You left me here alone, what was I supposed to do?”

He doesn’t respond right away, and you wish you could see his face, wish you could understand what’s going through his mind. “I just… I thought we’d be okay,” he says finally, his voice sounding defeated. “That we’d get through this. Together.”

You take a shaky breath. “I thought so too,” you admit. There’s a silence that stretches on, heavy and suffocating.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, “have fun on your date.” And then he hangs up before you can say another word, leaving you staring at your reflection, feeling like you’ve lost him all over again.

part 2

The date wasn’t going great, you didn’t have much in common with the guy, and things got even worse. One minute you’re walking across the street after dinner, pretending to laugh at some lame joke he made, and the next, your ankle twists under you, the pain shooting up your leg like a lightning bolt. You try to catch yourself, but you land hard, knees buckling beneath you.

The guy freaks out, asking if you're okay, but all you can focus on is the pulsing pain in your ankle. You're pretty sure it's sprained, but you're too embarrassed to admit it right away. He helps you up, practically carrying you to the nearest bench, and that's when you finally let yourself wince in pain.

A trip to the hospital later and you’re sitting in one of those sterile, white rooms, cradling your swollen ankle in your lap. Nothing too serious, just a sprain, but it’s enough to make you feel like an idiot. The guy’s hovering by the door, looking uncomfortable, like he wants to leave but doesn't know how. You can’t blame him. The awkwardness between you is palpable, and this was supposed to be a fun night.

You’re ready to get out of there, but you don't want to be alone for the discharge process. The guy’s already looking at his phone like he’s counting the minutes. So, you make a decision.

You pull out your phone, thinking of someone nearby, someone who won’t make things more awkward. Aurora. You don’t really want to call her, but she lives in the neighborhood, and you can’t stand the idea of sitting here with the date guy. It's nothing against him – well, maybe it is, but you really just need a friend right now.

You hit call, and it rings a few times before she picks up, her voice bright and concerned.

“Hey, what’s up? You good?”

“I’m at the hospital,” you say quickly, the words sounding so much worse than they feel. “I sprained my ankle on the date, can you come? Please?”

Aurora doesn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m on my way.” You end the call, grateful she’s coming, and feeling a lot better knowing someone familiar will be here soon.

A few minutes later, the door swings open. You expect it to be Aurora, but when you look up, you freeze.

Pablo stands there, his eyes wide with concern, his posture stiff. And right next to him, Aurora is visibly cringing, her face flushed red. She’s holding her hands up in an apologetic gesture. “I didn’t mean to –” she starts, but Pablo cuts her off.

“Are you okay?” His voice is frantic, as if you’re on the brink of death instead of sitting there with a sprained ankle.

You blink, taken aback by how he’s acting.

“I’m fine,” you say, a little too forcefully, but the last thing you need right now is to be treated like a patient. “Just a sprain. Nothing serious.”

Pablo doesn’t look convinced. He steps into the room, eyes scanning your ankle. He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to argue with him when he’s looking at you like that.

Aurora stands off to the side, a sheepish look on her face. “I’m sorry, I called him,” she whispers. “I thought you’d want him to know.”

“Really?” you ask, a little irritated now, because it’s clear Pablo doesn’t know how to handle this. You’re still pissed at him for the phone call earlier, but now? Now it feels like he’s intruding, even though you’re happy to see him, just not like this.

Pablo, still standing too close, suddenly shifts his weight, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t know, I just… I thought I should be here,” he says, his voice a little quieter, like he’s realizing how ridiculous he’s being.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, trying to lighten the mood. “Seriously. I’m just waiting to be discharged.”

Before you can say anything else, the date guy clears his throat. You turn to see him stepping forward.

"Um, should I leave?" His voice is a little too high-pitched, trying to be polite but also clearly uncomfortable now that Pablo’s here. Pablo, who’s still looking at you like he’s trying to figure out if you’re dying, shifts his eyes to the guy standing by the door.

“Who even are you?” Pablo’s tone is confused, but there's also a sharpness to it now, something territorial. It doesn’t make sense, but you can feel the weirdness between them.

You open your mouth, about to explain, but Pablo cuts you off.

“Is that the guy you just had a date with?” His eyes rake over him. "Yeah, you can leave now. I got it." He waves him off, voice firm and final, like he’s the one in charge here.

“Pablo, what the hell?” you snap. Your blood’s boiling, you look over at the date guy, who’s still standing there like he’s waiting for a command. “Yeah, you can go now,” you say, softer, sweeter than Pablo, but the sentiment’s the same. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Pablo scoffs, and it’s the kind of sound that tells you he’s annoyed, but it’s also kind of funny, considering he’s the one who’s ruining the moment. You’re not sure if he’s jealous or if he’s just being an idiot, but it pisses you off all the same.

Once the date guy leaves, the silence between you and Pablo is loud. You cross your arms, staring at him like you’re daring him to keep pushing.

“Well, now you can leave!” you say, voice cool, as you face him.

Pablo doesn't budge, though. "And how are you going home?" He sounds offended, like you’ve done something wrong by even suggesting that he should leave.

You roll your eyes. “Aurora can take me,” you mutter, already tired of the back-and-forth.

Pablo’s face twitches like he’s winning the argument. “I drove Aurora here,” he says, smug. Like the fact that he’s the one with the car makes him the one in control now.

Your eyes narrow, but deep down, you know you’ve got no choice. “Fine,” you grumble, defeated.

part 3

Pablo’s arms are strong, but his touch is gentle as he picks you up, carrying you bridal style like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hands are steady as he lifts you, his face close to yours, it makes you feel like you're back in that place where everything between you two was simple. But that’s not the reality anymore, is it?

He doesn’t say a word as he carries you to the couch, setting you down so gently it’s almost too much. You want to tell him to back off, to let you handle it, but you catch something in his eyes that stops you – he’s looking at you like you’re the most important thing in the world, and you can’t deal with that, not right now.

“It’s just a sprain,” you say, but your voice cracks halfway through, and you hate yourself for it. You hate how kind he’s being, how his touch makes everything hurt even more.

Pablo shakes his head. “I miss you too,” he says, his voice low, almost broken. It’s a call back to the phone call, to what you said earlier, and it’s like he’s holding onto those words for dear life.

Your heart feels like it’s about to shatter. “Then let me go,” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “We can’t be friends if I’m in love with you, you idiot.”

He’s closer now, wiping the tears from your cheek, his hand lingering longer than it should. He’s too close, and you’re drowning in it. But you let him stay because, in some twisted way, it’s all you have left of him.

“Don’t go on dates with idiots,” he says, his voice is exasperated. “You don’t need them. You just need to be with me, and we can make it work. We can go back to how it was. I promise.”

You shake your head, trying to stop the tears that just won’t quit. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean no one else will,” you say, the words bitter on your tongue. “Don’t act like I can’t find someone who can make me happy.”

Pablo’s face hardens, his eyes narrowing. “You’re just doing this to get back at me, and you know it.”

You almost laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not trying to get back at you, I’m trying to move on. I can’t keep pretending we’re okay.”

“You don’t need someone else,” he says through gritted teeth, his hand clenched into a fist. “You never needed anyone else. You’ve always had me.”

“Not anymore,” you snap, your anger flaring. “I don’t have you anymore! You’ve shut me out like nothing happened!”

His eyes flash, he steps closer, his hand reaching out for you, but you flinch back, afraid of how close he is, afraid of what it means. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, his voice so small. “I just... I didn’t know what to do.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” you say, your whole body trembling. “You just had to stay.”

His face falls, and for a second, you almost reach out to him. But you stop yourself. “I want my best friend back,” he says, his voice cracking.

“You don’t get that,” you shout, the words rushing out. “You can’t pretend I’m the same person I was before any of this happened. I’m not!”

“I don’t care!” His voice rises, raw and desperate. “I don’t care if it’s different, I just want you in my life. I don’t know what to do without you.”

You pull away. “You can’t keep saying that.”

He looks at you, devastated. He’s leaning closer now, his hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles against your skin. It’s like he’s pretending nothing’s changed, pretending this is how things always were.

“Pablo –"

You push against his chest, the tears running down your face now, uncontrollable. “Please, just leave,” you say, your voice shaking, but you mean it.

You’ve had enough. You’re done.

But Pablo just looks at you, he doesn’t move, doesn’t leave, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s not going to listen.

“Please,” you beg, your voice breaking. "Just go."

Pablo’s hand brushes his own cheek, wiping away a tear he hadn’t realized fell. He speaks like he's trying to convince himself more than you. “I’ll come back,” he says. “To check on your injury, make sure you’re better.”

He looks away quickly. “I’ll take care of you... like you took care of me.” His words hang in the air, painfully.

You watch him go, every step tearing at you. As the door closes, you stare at it for a second, your body tensing as if it’s about to snap in two. And then you can’t take it anymore. You reach for the nearest pillow, throwing it at the door with every ounce of anger you’ve been holding inside.

“Idiot!” you scream, everything hurts – your heart, your head, your stupid, stupid tears.

You sit there, staring at the door, feeling the ache spread through your chest. It hits you like a punch – you haven’t touched him, haven’t held him in over a month. It feels like the end of everything, and it’s crushing you.

You curl up on the couch, hugging yourself, wishing things could go back to how they were before everything went wrong. But they can’t. All you have is the emptiness he left behind, and it’s swallowing you whole.

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