#so I did both to appease both sides

[localtelephonebooth]

Gijinka Arceus!

I had fun making these two. Arceus is my favorite mythical pokemon, so I wanted to create a human design for them.

[wonryllis]

、 ꔫ REFUSED KISSES AND POUTY WHINES.

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen enamoured with their girlfriend. fem!r. fluff, fluff and lots of fluff. requested. wordcount` 1180. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 you are both dating and everyone knows it so why can't he, your lovely boyfriend kiss you infront of your parents? "lee heeseung! i swear—" "i swear it'll be quick she won't notice, promise!" heeseung immediately whispers back, standing close, his arms around you helping you peel oranges while your mother stands by the stove a few steps away, "no, hee baby later please?" you whine, embarrassed to your bones at the possibility of being caught with yours lips locked to a guy even if he's your man. "but like bubs, your parents kissed infront of us earlier?" he's genuinely conflicted. "they pecked and knowing you, it would definitely not be just a quick kiss," you complain and heeseung immediately comes up with his ass solution, dragging you to the bathroom for a kiss session. "h-heeseung th—" you try pulling away for a breath but he just pulls you back in, "shh just kiss me,"

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 it was the hardest battle of his life, but it was important. how can he let you take advantage of him when he's drunk, he has a girlfriend he loves too much to ever do this? and who is that girlfriend? "jay, believe me baby, i am the girlfriend you are talking about," you reassure him again, helping him sit on the bed after breaking your back trying to get him in his own house because apparently you were kidnapping him. "no! stop taking advantage of me! i love my girlfriend!" he wriggles against your hold, defensive and wary. "and i love you too baby, it's just a small kiss, we do this everyday," your hands soothe across his shoulder blades trying to calm him down and clear his fogged brain. "no only my girlfriend can kiss me, get away!" "then who do you think i am?" he looks at you for a few seconds,"oh babyyy? when did you get—" "perfect!" and you pull him in for a short sloppy kiss.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 he is utterly devastated at your behaviour. like what do you mean "don't kiss me!" you're his pretty baby, of course he gotta give you a kiss. "jake! baby please," you whine for the umpteenth time, "exactly baby please," jake whines back for the umpteenth time. it's an amusing sight for the others around the dinner table, watching jake lean into you again and again only to be pushed away every single time. "it's just a kiss," he reasons, giving you his puppy eyes, "my lipgloss will be ruined honey," your answer just makes him groan, a tragic pout on his lips. it's obvious how much he's dying to kiss you and how strong his will to is, because he sure ain't looking like giving up anytime soon. "you know what—" this time he grabs your face in a haste, slams his lips onto yours for a quick, yet messy kiss, "you look the prettiest with your lipgloss smudged and ruined," grinning wicked.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 so distressed so impatient, he can't wait to be home to give you all the kisses he wants to, for as long as he wants. "just one at the red light?" he begs, desperate for the feel of your lips against his after being deprived of it for the entire day spent with both of your families. "no love, you'll get distracted and we're just five minutes away," you look out the window, avoiding the pitiful looks he gives you every two seconds. "but angel, i'm already so distracted, i can't think of anything but kissing you," his voice comes out frenzied, trying his best to focus on the mirrors and the road, but you are like sitting right beside him how can he ignore that?? "i'll give you a peck at the next traffic okay," you attempt to appease your boyfriend but suddenly he's swerving the car to the side and immediately grabbing you by the jaw, "let's just kiss now and go home," his lips moving on yours hard and restless.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗪𝗢𝗢 he has to be strong, strong, strong, strong sunoo keeps repeating it over and over again in his head everytime he sees your sullen face over refused kisses. "baby please, please, please," you plead, giving your best pout to him as you wait in the line together. he doesn't say anything, watching you order his favorite drink and bring it to the table by the window. "can i please kiss you now? i even got you your favorite boba," you ask, dragging your chair closer to his. "no i'm still mad," he sips away at his drink, gazing out to avoid his control breaking away at your doe eyes staring at him apologetically. however when a few minutes pass by and there's not another word from you, sunoo feels way too guilty, "how's your flavor?" he asks, and when you offer your drink he leans to peck your lips leaving you stunned, "you wanna try mine?" you nod gleeful, "then kiss me,"

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 he understands, he swears he does, but his heart is just longing for your kiss what can he do. and with you more often than not he listens to his heart over his mind. "jungwon, behave," you warn, adjusting his tie in a hurry while his hands loop around your lower waist, trying to sneak in a kiss. "but baby there's like twenty more floors," he whines pointing at the digital screen of the elevator,"and we are running late baby, it's my sister's wedding, i'm the maid of honor. i can't have my make up messing up, there's no time for fixing it," but the more you speak the more tempting your lips look to him. "just one kiss," he begs and before you can answer he's sucking onto your lips in desperation, pulling away for air for a split second and latching back for a second kiss,"here i brought tissue and your lipstick," he reveals bashfully at last, helping you just as the doors slide open.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 he is bold and you are not. he is shameless and you are not. he is desperate and you are too what? first of all it's unruly and so not moral to be kissing in the corridors, anyone could catch you anytime. "don't worry princess, no one cares. it's college not school, people don't give a damn," riki tries convincing you, cornering you against the hallway wall again only for you to push him away by his chest. "no it's— i don't wanna be seen like that," you explain, looking either way a little too long. "i'm not yet used to kissing in public like this," looking down at your feet you wait for riki to say something but instead he pulls you by the wrist, rushing into an empty lecture hall nearby. "are you okay now?" he asks cornering you into a desk this time,"the cameras," you point teasingly and riki grins when he realizes that, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, giggling and smiling each time you pull away.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @enhaswirlds @enhasnuggles @potato0579

[luveline]

ooo i love that you’re giving me free reign over ideas for pregnant bombshell and spencer.. maybe something really angsty where reader’s hormones are getting the best of her and she’s just really pissed at spencer for absolutely no reason? hope that makes sense

thank you for requesting <3 pregnant!reader

“I’m serious, Spencer Reid, you better leave me alone,” you warn. 

Spencer gawps. Morgan glances between you both in concern, having seen hundreds of your conversations over the years and never one this sour. “But I–”

“I’m not kidding.” You glare at him, press your hand to your mouth, and spin away from him to march up the steps to Hotch’s office. 

Spencer attempts to follow you. Morgan holds him back with one hand to the chest. “I wouldn’t if I were you.” 

Spencer watches you until you’re gone. He frowns, upset in his eyes and his model pout. “I don’t even know what I did.” 

“Is this a common occurrence?” 

“No, never! But these last couple days she’s always angry with me.” 

“It’s the baby hormones,” Morgan assures his friend, patting him and pushing him toward his desk. “Or you did something and don’t remember.” 

“If I did, I really don’t.” 

You stew in Hotch’s office. Morgan can imagine the conversation, your annoyance and Hotch’s light bemusement, your wondering if you’re being too harsh, and Hotch giving an amiable, neutral answer. Morgan can also imagine what Spencer thinks you’re doing, watching as his shoulders sink further and further down. 

Spencer scratches a stressed hand through his hair. “I’ll go say sorry,” he says. 

“Maybe that’s a good idea, but not yet. She needs time to cool down.” 

Spencer frowns at his hands. “I don’t like when she’s mad at me like this. We’re always on the same page, I never have to guess what she’s thinking anymore.” He pulls at the neck of his shirt and his tight tie. “I feel like I’m twenty four again.” 

“This is all new for her,” Morgan says. What Spencer doesn’t know is that he’s making this up as he goes. Spencer messed irretrievably for all he knows. “You just need to remember why she’s doing it in the first place, right? She’s loved you for years, one pregnancy induced moment of rage won’t change that. Probably.”

Spencer isn’t appeased. Worse when you emerge from Hotch’s office and walk straight to your desk without glancing Spencer’s way, and worse again when he attempts to talk to you and you shake your head. “Please, Spencer. Just leave me alone.” 

Spencer spends the day in agony. The worry of what he’s done eats at him, and he attempts to make it up to you, ultimately making it worse. You frown at every cup of tea or water he brings you, glaring at the plate he serves you for lunch. The bullpen of the office sags under your fury. Spencer doesn’t eat a single bite all day.  

It’s by chance that Morgan witnesses the full fallout on his way to the bathroom. You’re in the hallway just on the way to Penelope’s office with Spencer, who’s clearly followed you to give apologies and concern aplenty. He’s caught your hand.

“I don’t even know why you’re mad,” Spencer says hopelessly. He sounds heartbroken.

You look at your hands for a long while, seconds stretching and aching, before you hold your stomach and look to the side. “I’m sorry–” you say, cutting yourself off as your voice wobbles unsurely.

“What?” Spencer asks, startled. 

“I don’t know,” —your breath shudders— “why I’m being so mean to you–”

“Angel–”

“I feel like I’m suffocating in my own skin and you’re just making me so angry hovering because I can look after myself, but I’m starting to think I can’t, and I look really stupid in my maternity clothes–”

“What’s wrong with your clothes?”

You huff sharply.

“I’m sorry,” he says, holding out his hands. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re just really pregnant right now and the hormones are messing with you,” —you scoff, but Spencer soldiers on— “I love how you look, and I love you even when you’re angry with me, and I’m sorry you feel claustrophobic. What can I do?” 

Your glare softens slowly. “You’re not mad at me?” 

“You’re mad at me, lovely.” 

Morgan thinks that last bit is a nice touch. You wipe your blurry eyes and squeeze his hands, still breathing too fast and too hard but the anger having completely drained from your features, returning you to your usual beautiful state. You measure his gaze for a while, before resting your forehead on his chest, your bump in the way of a proper hug. “Do you still love me?” you ask quietly.

“No.” He laughs and kisses your temple, using his index finger to turn your face by your hairline carefully, giving him better view of your face. “Yeah, I still love you. I always do. I’m sorry I upset you that much, I’m not trying to smother you.” 

“You didn’t, Spence, I upset myself, and I took it out on you… I’m sorry I was mean to you, earlier, you didn’t deserve it. It’s just hard.” You shake your head. “You never make me feel bad for being a diva and I wish you would.” 

“Would that make you feel better?” 

You sigh. “No, please keep being my sweetheart. Please.” 

Spencer says something too quiet for Morgan to hear, but can be read from the lips as a promise as he sweeps his hand up and down your back. 

[viceroywrites]

the way i have this whole story for gravity falls (stan x reader x ford) and am so tempted to write it but i need to finish my other wips

so i'll just dump it out here (some of this is also somewhat inspired by the swooning over stans dating sim)

-

pretty much the premise is that you are dating ford during the time that he's deep into his research into gravity falls. you become uncomfortable seeing how bill takes over his body and the havoc bill causes when he's in ford's body and after seeing what happened to fiddleford when entering the portal, give him an ultimatum: cut ties with bill or you're done.

of course, ford chooses his research. ford chooses bill.

you can't get over him, and after countless nights of tears, you appeal to fiddleford to let you use his memory gun to erase the memory of ford from your mind.

and he does.

you move back home, confused on how you ended up in a small town in oregon but fiddleford makes up a story, saying you were an old friend, visiting him while he was doing research. you lead a normal life free of the paranormal for many years. you sometimes have dreams, visions of a face that should be familiar but you can't seem to make it out.

planning out a roadtrip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself in explicably drawn to the town of gravity falls and figure you might as well check it out since it's on the way through your drive up to washington, you figure why not.

your car ends up dying on you, the battery giving out almost five miles out of town. as you're on the phone trying to map to the nearest towing company, a gruff voice calls out, asking if you need a hand.

you look up to see stan, his window rolled down and his arm dangling out the side of the car.

why does he look familiar? you think to yourself as you put down your phone.

"yeah if you have jumper cables, i just need to get my car running to get to the next town and hopefully get a replacement battery." you say.

"of course, i have jumper cables, kid - look at my car, you think i haven't been stranded out here myself." stan chuckles, making a effortless u turn with one hand before pulling his car close to yours.

you pop the hood of your car, giving stan access to hook up the jumper cables. you both stand in silence while stan attaches the cables to your car before stan's voice cuts through, "so uh, what brings you out here? you just driving through?"

you almost chuckle at his awkwardness, "sort of. i'm doing a whole road trip through the pacific northwest. i was gonna check out this town ahead, gravity falls."

stan blinks, expecting you to just be passing through the town. his lips spread into a grin, pulling out a business card from his leather jacket. "well, if you're stopping by, you gotta check out the mystery shack! one stop shop for mysterious oddities!"

you take the business card with a giant question mark on the front. you look up at stan, almost feeling like this is a con but as your car starts up to life, you figure you might as well check out what sounds like a tourist trap to appease the man who just helped you.

after driving your car to the mystery shack, you get a tour from stan himself, who shares that he used to be the former owner. as you walk around the building, it almost feels like home, like you've been here before.

talk about deja vu.

little did you know that you would run into the man that you once loved as you rounded the corner, finishing the tour. ford was outside fiddling with a new device with his back turned to you and stan elbows you in the arm, "that's my poindexter brother, ford. he's always working on a some geeky invention."

"you know i can hear you, stanley?" ford sighs, turning around to face you two.

he freezes, seeing the woman that left him all those years ago. "y/n?" he calls out to you.

you blink, stan staring at the two of you in confusion and you tilt your head, confused yourself, "sorry... have we met before? how do you know my name?"

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Royal Consort Part 4

Danny smiles awkwardly as Mr. Paresh once again talks about his business. He is still determining why the man keeps repeating the annual profits or benefits for his investors as he carefully sips his sparkling cider.

He tones the man out after he starts again, gazing over the lavished banquet hall. Bruce Wayne really went all out for this gala. There were people in suits and dresses that cost more than his family car, strutting around and ignoring the large spread of deserts and drinks.

Danny has no idea how. He has already gotten a plate of fudge and sparkling cider from a world-renowned chef, never before tasting anything better. He would have gotten more, but he gets stopped whenever he tries to cross the room.

All everyone wants to talk about is his "husband," his "husband's" money, or their company and business. The night has blended into a weird mix of the three topics, and he will be hard-pressed to recite any of the information.

It's not that it isn't interesting, but Danny keeps getting the feeling that he's being talked down to. Or swindled.

But maybe that's just his insecurities talking. Danny isn't sure how he would ever come clean about his lies now. If he ever could.

The world believed that an inter-dimensional war would break out if he so much as had an argument with Phantom. Tucker had sent him the link to the political debates about it.

Imagine people finding out after all of that, that he lied and claimed he was married to himself? No.

That is not going to happen.

Danny would take this secret to his second grave.

"Your cooperation would be greatly beneficial to both parties. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Phantom?" The man finishes, and Danny snaps his attention back to him. What did he call him? Oh no, did Mr. Paresh figure him out? And what was that about cooperation? Was he going to blackmail Danny?

Danny isn't sure what kind of expression he is making, but it must have looked bad for Tim Wayne to make his way over quickly. He's been hovering since the gala started.

In fact, all the Waynes have been hovering ever since they rescued him from the paparazzi. They took him back to the manor, where Alfred had been kind enough to make him some tea to help calm him down.

It was a bit awkward. Mostly because he had been somewhat shaky from the encounter, and they had been hyper-aware of future-him's threat to destroy the world if he was harmed.

Not that Danny would, but the Waynes didn't need to know that.

"Excuse me, Mr. Paresh, I need to speak to Mr. Fenton for a moment," Tim says with an easy smile and a smooth side-step that allows him to steer Danny away.

Mr. Paresh tries to protest, but Tim masterfully ignores him. With sure steps, an easy smile, and a hand on the small of Danny's back, Tim has him out of the crowd into the open air of a balcony, and Danny can feel himself breathing again.

"Thanks for the save," He tells Tim, leaning on the railing overlooking the garden.

The other teenager offers him a crooked smile. "Don't mention it. Mr. Paresh can be a bit pushy when it comes to investors."

"Is that what he wanted?" Danny asks surprised.

"Yes, even he wouldn't be dumb enough to hit on a Royal Consort," Tim tells him jokingly, but something about how he says it makes Danny feel like he is not joking. In fact, it's almost like Tim is trying to appease any foul mood the mislabeled "flirting" would cause.

Strange.

"Too bad. I don't have any money. It all belongs to Phantom." Danny sighs.

"Many spouses here are investors using their partner's funds. It's not a surprise you be approached for King Phantom's vaults." Tim explained with a helpless shrug that seemed far too regal for such a casual action.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Danny sighs. "Phantom would never be interested in human business affairs"

Tim eyes gleam "why?"

"We don't live very long to a being like him. Our businesses would be like a snap of his fingers, and he wouldn't make up any profits that could match whatever he put into it"

The other teen makes a noise in the back of his neck but doesn't say anything after that. Danny slumps more onto the railing, allowing his chin to rest on his crossed arms.

The necklace that got him until this mess swings about accidentally hitting the metal. It's loud clack echoes as the silence between the two stretches.

After a moment, Danny speaks up, eyes trained on the tree line that has provided a screen of privacy.

"Are there still paparazzi at the gates?"

"Yes." Tim scoffs. Even without turning to look at him, Danny knows the other is frowning. "Bruce hired private bodyguards- Bowhunter Security- to keep them out, but they will hound you for the rest of your life likely. I'm sorry."

Danny shrugs even if a part of him shivers up into a ball at the thought of those camera flashes and pushy people hoping to capture something they can exploit. "I figured. They bothered Princess Diana like that too."

Neither speaks for a moment, allowing the gentle cold wind of the night air to brush over them. Danny, for a second, closes his eyes and lets himself sink into the welcoming silence.

He nearly falls asleep there, even going as far as to close his eyes and slow his breathing but just as he's about to drop off into his dreams, Tim lets out a startled gasp.

"King Phantom!"

What.

Ripping open his eyes, Danny can only stare in absolute shock as a green portal ripples before him, much like it had done a few days ago in Wayne's car. It's larger than before, the size of a large door, which makes it easier for Phantom to step out of.

He is dressed to the nines, his kingly attire screaming wealth even if it seems to be from a few centuries back. Its dark blues and whites highlighted his figure, and the black overthrown cape gave him a commanding presence.

White hair pushed back in a stylish tousle mess, it gave his flouting crown that much more alluring sight to behold. Danny's eyes were imminently drawn to another one of Clockwork's medallions resting comfortably around Phantom's neck.

No. Danny thinks faintly as Phantom- his future self, the asshole-winks at him. Please let this be a nightmare.

Alas, it is not, for Phantom takes his hand and brings it up to press a kiss against his knuckles. "Good evening, Darling. I have come to escort you to the gala."

"The hell you are" Danny hisses, yanking his hand away. Tim shifts uncomfortably at his side as Phantom tilts his chin to the nearby windows.

Risking a peak over his shoulder, Danny bites back a groan of frustration as multiple guests press themselves against the glass, gawking at the king of dead.

A few even have their phones out recording.

the portal's glow must have attracted guests' attention. Dammit it all

"Darling, I know I missed our anniversary because of my work, but please let me make it up to you." Phantom all but begs. He steps forward to drag Danny into a tight hug where he proceeds to whisper into his ear, using ghost delict.

"Alien invasion on the way. Batman and Superman die tonight trying to stop it. The world goes to Dan's level of bad. Clockwork wants us to handle it. Play. Along."

Of course, there is. Why not?

Danny wants to scream, wants to punch something very hard, but all he can do is whisper back. "What causes it?"

"Some idiot in this crowd cares for the key that portals the invading fleet. We will blow it up as the invading forces try to get through; we just have to find the person and not let them activate it beforehand." Phantom grips his hand harder, teeth turning just a bit sharper. "They killed Jazz first."

Oh, this is personal.

"Who is our first suspect?"

"Suspects," Phantom corrects, pressing him even closer, and to the onlookers, it seems sweet and devoted to his human. None of them know the chill in the air is due to Phantom's ire and not the cold winter. "The Waynes were conveniently gone when that thing opened."

Danny's eyes, against his will, almost flicker over to Tim, and he is startled by the calculative look in those blue eyes before it is swiftly hidden. Shit, and he liked the Waynes.

"I swear," Phantom says, stepping back now speaking in English and offering a boyish smile, that does nothing to hide the rage in his eyes,. "The Waynes are no threat to my family, Darling."

Everyone hears the words, but they all believe what King Phantom said has a different meaning.

The crowd thinks the Waynes had somehow implied an attack on the royal ghost house, maybe a faux pas for not knowing ghost culture while hosting Danny. Team Phantom thinks Danny is accusing the Waynes of ending the world.

But what do the Waynes hear?

"This is bad B. I think Danny Fenton is accusing the Waynes of trying to steal his husband." The teenager whisper-shouts into his phone, trying to hide from the embraced couple speaking in a strange language on the balcony.

"Tim, what did you do?!" Bruce yells back.

"I didn't do anything!"

"Tell Drake to stop being a homewrecker before the King declares war on us, Father!" Damian is heard over speakers, likely crowding around the phone like his siblings. Tim can see them now, hidden away in a closet, trying to listen to the call between Tim and Bruce the moment Bruce went for his phone.

"I am not a homewrecker!"

"That's right, Tim is not a homewrecker! Phantom has two hands. he can have two loves!" Dick passionately defends.

"He also has an undead army." Duke says, "Which we would like to avoid attacking us. Tim, come on, the man is married, back up."

"No, no, no, Dick is onto something there. I say seduce them both!" Steph shouts like she is commanding him to rush the frontlines of a battlefield.

"You should dance for them. Like birds." Cass adds.

"Yeah, Tim, shake some ass for the good of mankind," Jason snickers.

"None of this is helpful!"

"Tim, just please try to calm the King down." Bruce cuts in, sounding both severe and tired. "We really can't afford this war."

Tim risks glancing toward the royals and has to swallow a gulp at the twin-set stare that bores into his soul. It's unnerving how similar they are- but then again, Phantom changed his form to match Danny's in an odd Ghost tradition of love.

A love that he believed was being threatened with unfaithfulness due to Tim- or the other Waynes!

How was he ever going to calm someone like that down?

"I'll try."

He just hopes it's enough to get it through the evening.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! Since the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au won the continuation poll, here's part 2!

NOTE: Part 1 can be found here!

EDIT: Part 3 can be found here!

As a quick recap of this au, during the season 4 finale Merlin was caught by Morgana while trying to plant the burning doll curse that would temporarily lock away her powers, and they have a magic battle that ends with both Morgana and her army slain. Merlin thought that no one saw what happened, but Camelot's lords who serve on the council secretly saw everything. So, when Arthur storms Camelot, ready to take back his throne, he's met with the news that Morgana's already dead and a new sorcerer has claimed the throne of Camelot through the right of conquest, and the lords have unanimously agreed to make this powerful sorcerer king in order to appease him. To everyone's shock, Geoffrey then puts the crown of Camelot on Merlin's head, and Merlin promptly passes out.

And now, onto the new stuff!

When Merlin finally woke up, he jolted awake with a start, frightened by what must have been a terrible nightmare! And truly, it was one of the most horrifying scenarios Merlin's sleeping mind had ever conjured to torture himself with: everyone finding out about his magic, Arthur thinking that Merlin betrayed him, and unintentionally stealing Arthur's kingship!

If the idea wasn't so frightening, Merlin would almost laugh at the absurdity of it: Merlin, king of Camelot! What nonsense! Merlin was Emrys, the other side of the coin to the king; he was certainly never meant to be king himself.

Still, the idea gave Merlin a slight chuckle as he climbed out of his bed and changed into his usual clothes, the soft light of the dawn flittering in through his window. Thank every god out there that his outfit didn't involve a crown!

After he finished tying his neckerchief and pulling on his boots, Merlin opened the door into the main area of Gaius's chambers, ready to eat a quick breakfast with Gaius before collecting Arthur's breakfast and starting his work for the day.

Stepping out into the main chamber, he couldn't find Gaius anywhere, but that wasn't too unusual, given how busy Gaius could be with sudden injuries or illnesses popping up in the lower town at all hours of the night. Humming a bit to himself, Merlin began fixing himself a small bowl of porridge in the chamber's cooking pot, making sure to leave an extra portion for Gaius whenever he returned from his duties.

Merlin ate his breakfast quickly, enjoying the birdsong outside and the beautiful sunrise. Yes, this was exactly what he needed to wash away the awful ideas that his nightmare had conjured up.

After cleaning up their dining table, Merlin made his way towards the door, ready go about his day and do his job as a manservant to moderately acceptable standards! Besides, on the heels of Morgana's invasion, Arthur would need a supportive friend far more than a manservant today.

As Merlin opened the door from Gaius's chambers, however, something was conspicuously different. Namely, the fact that there were two armed guards standing on either side of the door, standing with their backs to the door.

The two guards stiffened and stood at attention as soon as he opened the door, uncrossing their polearms so that they would not be blocking his path as he left Gaius's chambers. Merlin froze at the sight of the guards, staring at their backs. What... what was going on?

"Is... is everything alright? What's this about?"

Was it just him, or did the two guards somehow stiffen up even more at Merlin's words?

After a tense beat of silence, one of the guards cleared his throat and replied, "We were assigned to stand guard over these chambers."

Merlin's brows furrowed with confusion for a moment before he figured out what must have happened, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh, I see! Arthur must have increased security around the castle since Morgana's latest attack. I'm not sure why he considers the physician's quarters to be a potential target, but I'll ask him about it later. Well, I'd better get going or else I'll be late to wake the prat up. Say hello to Gaius for me when he gets back!"

The guards looks confused at his words and opened their mouths to call something out to Merlin, but Merlin was already down the stairs and halfway down the hall before either of them could blink.

Merlin got a lot more strange stares than usual today as he made his way towards the kitchens, with many people outright stopping to gawk at him as he passed. Did he have something odd stuck to his hair or something?

Merlin shrugged off the strange stares for now. He'd have time to look in a mirror and figure out what was so odd about how he looked later, after Arthur had eaten and gotten dressed.

Merlin was still a few minutes away from the kitchens when a caped figure emerged from a servant's passageway and barreled into him, drawing him into a sudden hug. Instinctively, Merlin tensed up at the perceived attack, but he quickly relaxed at the familiar smell of ale and apples that surrounded his laughing "attacker".

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you, Merls!"

Merlin sighed with both relief at seeing his friend in one piece and in high spirits, but also is exasperation.

"Gwaine, I'm very glad to see you again, but what are you doing here? You just spent a week in captivity under Morgana, you're supposed to be resting and recovering, not ambushing unsuspecting servants!"

Gwaine pulled back at Merlin's words, wearing a look of confusion as he studied Merlin's face.

"Ah, but I'm not ambushing a servant, am I?"

"Yes, yes, you're ambushing your friend, since friendship gives you more rights to pull stunts like this and give me more reason to worry over your health."

At that, Gwaine's face pulled into an outright frown, a rare sight to see on the perpetually-grinning knight. Merlin shifted around a bit nervously, unsure of what exactly was happening. Finally, Gwaine spoke again, this time very slowly and gently, as if he was trying to calm down a spooked horse.

"Merlin, what do you remember from yesterday? What was the last thing you remember before falling asleep?"

This time, it was Merlin's turn to frown in confusion at Gwaine's odd questions. What did any of that matter?

"Well, I suppose the last thing I remember was... was storming into the throne room with Arthur and Gwen and being informed of Morgana's death anything after that... I don't quite recall."

He must have hit his head or something after that point, because everything after that was what happened in his nightmare, and there was no way any of that was real. Right?

Merlin watched as Gwaine's frown pulled into a strained smile, his confusion only growing. What was Gwaine so nervous about?

"Well, Merls," Gwaine began, slinging an arm around Merlin's shoulders as he started to lead Merlin away from the kitchens, "a lot happened in between then and now, including some great news!"

Gwaine turned to face Merlin, his smile genuine and mischievous this time, and Merlin knew that grin. That was the grin Gwaine wore right before he was about to get himself into some trouble for a noble cause but would hide it under the guise of "fun".

Merlin sighed deeply, not awake enough to deal Gwaine's antics, even if they was coming from a good place.

"Alright, what's this news of yours?"

If it was possible, Gwaine's mischievous grin grew wider.

"For starters, I got a promotion!"

Merlin stopped in his tracks with shock, halting their walk to... wherever Gwaine was leading him.

"A promotion?! How? Why? What's your new title? Will you be leading other knights?"

Gwaine just shook his head, his hair whipping around and smile still present on his face. He started leading Merlin again as he answered Merlin's questions.

"I know, I had hardly believe it myself! But I took some initiative when it really mattered, and I landed myself this new job! It's not really a leadership role, but I might be leading some knights, and probably some guards too!"

Gwaine finally started to slow their march down as they reached what Merlin assumed was their destination: the doors to the main throne room, where Arthur took his audiences.

As Gwaine stopped before the doors, he turned to look at Merlin again, his smile still bright, but his eyes, Merlin noticed, growing strained again, like there was something greatly troubling him.

"You still haven't told me what this new job actually is though."

This time, Gwaine's smile faltered a bit, and Merlin knew at once that this new job was what was causing Gwaine so much inner turmoil. What job could possibly give Gwaine of all people so much stress?

"Ah, silly me, how could I forget! You'll want to hold onto something before I tell you this, because this will blow you away my friend! I got promoted..."

Gwaine leaned in close, almost like he was about to share a secret with Merlin. Merlin leaned in as well, curious about what position Gwaine's surprising promotion had been to.

"to the king's official bodyguard!" Gwaine revealed in a stage whisper, playing the moment up for dramatic effect in a very Gwaine-like manner.

Merlin jerked backwards in surprise, startled by such unexpected news, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

Arthur did seem to be stepping up security in the aftermath of Morgana's latest invasion, so it made sense for him to appoint a loyal and trusted knight to look after Arthur's own safety.

Merlin was strangely pleased with Arthur's decision on this. Arthur was finally prioritizing his own safety, and he had picked a great knight for the job! This might make Merlin's own secret job of protecting Arthur much easier! Gwaine would certainly take any of Merlin's warnings of danger to Arthur seriously, and he trusted Merlin enough that he wouldn't question where Merlin got any of his information.

Merlin smiled back at his friend, happy about both this new opportunity for his friend and about the changes it would bring. Yes, this was great!

"That's amazing Gwaine! Do you want to stop by the tavern tonight to celebrate?"

Gwaine laughed a bit at that, still looking oddly tense. For some unknown reason, apprehension started pooling in Merlin's stomach, telling him that something wasn't right here. No, there was something else going on.

"Thanks for the offer mate, but I'm afraid that it wouldn't be a good look for me to be seen drinking on my first night on the job. Besides, I have a feeling that you'll be a little busy this evening too."

Merlin's confusion only grew with each passing second.

"What do you mean by that?"

Gwaine didn't answer him, only giving Merlin a small, almost sad smile. It looked disturbingly out of place on the boisterous Gwaine, ratchetting Merlin's confusion and dread up even further.

Without another word, Gwaine turned and opened the doors to the throne room, revealing the entire council of lords congregated within, giving Merlin rather violent flashbacks to his nightmare.

No, no, nothing as disastrous as Merlin being publicly announced as a sorcerer and then getting crowned king in front of Arthur and Gwen could ever happen in real life. It was simply too absurd.

Merlin watched, frozen at the threshold of the room, as the lords' heads all turned towards the door at the sound of it swinging open. To Merlin's rising dread, they all rose from their seats at the sight of him.

No no no no....

Merlin frantically looked around, hoping to all of the gods of the Old Religion that Arthur was somewhere nearby, because the council only rose for the entrance of the king...

Merlin turned around, hoping to find Arthur standing around somewhere, anywhere, as dread began closing its claws around his heart, which was beating at the rating that Merlin would be concerned about if he could process anything other than his own all-consuming terror at that moment.

Because it wasn't a nightmare, was it? No, that was real. His worst fears had come to life in the most horrifying way possible, and he was powerless to stop it now.

If the lords of the council noticed Merlin's frantic terror, they didn't acknowledge it. Instead, apparently, they decided to only confirm Merlin's deepest fears. After a tense moment of utter silence in the room, broken only by Merlin's jagged breathing, Geoffrey finally stepped forward.

"Ah, welcome Your Majesty! I hope you're feeling better now after you've rested and recovered from your battle against Morgana. There is much to discuss concerning these first crucial days of your reign, including your public coronation, having all knights who are willing to renounce the Pendragon line swear their fealty to you, and determining the fates of those who already refuse to accept your rule."

For what felt like an eternity, Merlin simply stood there, his mind refusing to cooperate or even process what he was being told. He couldn't move a single muscle in his body, paralyzed by horror. He was only snapped out of his fugue state by Gwaine taking ahold of his arm and guiding him towards the table.

Inhaling sharply as he was pushed by Gwaine closer to the lords, he finally processed what Geoffrey had told him. Oh gods, a coronation?! So all of Arthur's kingdom could see how he had stolen Arthur's throne?! Forcing knights to turn their backs on Arthur and renounce their loyalty to him?! This was madness and, not to mention, the exact opposite of what Merlin wanted!

And what was that about punishing people for refusing to accept him as king? Hell, Merlin should reward the dissenters if anything, since they were apparently the only ones who still had any good sense left in this kingdom! Who in their right mind would immediately accept Merlin as their king anyway?!

Right, Merlin thought as his eyes wandered over the faces of the lords, spineless cowards with no loyalty who would turn their backs on their true king to save their own hides, that's who.

Well, the applied to the lords at least, but that still didn't explain what Gwaine was doing here, by Merlin's side, when he should be with Arthur and the other knights!

... Where were Arthur and the other knights?

A jolt of fear once again shot through Merlin, this time alongside guilt. Where was Arthur? What had happened to him? The council had foolishly stripped him of his title, and then what?

Clearing his dry throat, Merlin finally responded, "Geoffrey, what happened after I lost consciousness yesterday? Where is Arthur?"

After Merlin was finished speaking, the lords started shifting around nervously, which began to set of warning bells in Merlin's mind.

Something had happened after he fainted yesterday. Something that involved Arthur.

"Well, Your Majesty, following your loss of consciousness yesterday, the former King Arthur lost his temper and began yelling, shouting everything from accusing us of lies and treason to cursing out the sacred laws of the land. He then ran throughout the castle and began calling upon his knights for aid, explaining the situation to them in crude terms and demanding that they take back the crown from you by force."

Merlin grimaced at Geoffrey's monotone explanation, horrific visions of Arthur calling for his execution as a sorcerer and traitor running through his mind.

"Many of Arthur's knights rallied to his cause, but there were some who were hesitant to turn their blades against you, no doubt recognizing your power and your true claim to the throne. It was from that group that your loyal Sir Gwaine arose, leading a small group of knights and guards in a surprise attack that concluded with the former king and his knights locked in the dungeon cells, awaiting your judgement."

Merlin eyes flew wide at Geoffrey's words, his heading whipping around to meet Gwaine's gaze. Gwaine had betrayed Arthur in such a terrible way? For him?

In response to Merlin's horrified stare, Gwaine simply gave him his most innocent smile, as if nothing was wrong at all and Merlin's world wasn't crumbling around him.

No, this wasn't happening. Merlin had to fix this, and he had to fix it now.

"Look, Geoffrey, I am honored that you and the other lords feel so strongly that I am supposed to be Camelot's king, but that is not meant to be. I was never meant to rule over anything. This is Arthur's kingdom, and I will not be the one to take it from him."

All of the lords around the table look utterly confused, as if Merlin was speaking a completely different language. That was expected, Merlin supposed, if they had never seen anyone willingly give up power. Gwaine, however, just looked amused, like he knew that this was exactly what would happen.

"While that is a most gracious sentiment Your Majesty, I'm afraid that it isn't that simple."

Merlin groaned at Geoffrey's words, bemoaning the fact that the world could never let anything in his life be simple.

"Shouldn't it be?! I'm apparently the king now, so I order you to release Arthur and the knights from the dungeons and to give Arthur his kingship back!"

This time, it was Geoffrey's turn to sigh deeply, as the old man pulled a rather hefty- and dusty- scroll from his bag.

"This," Geoffrey began as he unrolled the yellowed parchment, "is Bruta's code, written by the Great King himself. This set of laws are the foundation on which all of the five kingdoms are governed, and Camelot is no exception. All kings of this Isle, no matter how powerful, are subject to these laws, lest the entire realm fall into anarchy."

Merlin was valiantly holding back the urge to bash his head into the council table. Why couldn't he clear this situation up as painlessly as possible?!

"The code addresses many subjects, and both the right of conquest and the rules of succession are outlined within. I'm terribly sorry Your Majesty, but the code clearly states that when a king who is not of royal blood ascends to the throne through the right of conquest, the previous royal family loses any and all claim to the throne, alongside their lands and wealth, essentially leaving them with no titles or claim to nobility at all. This measure was originally put in place to ban the defeated family from endlessly challenging the victor of the conquest in a bid to regain their former throne and wasting the new ruler's precious time."

Merlin's heart dropped even more at Geoffrey's words. Great, he had not only stolen Arthur's kingdom, but he had also stolen everything Arthur owned! Gods, what did Arthur hate Merlin more for at the moment, being a secret powerful sorcerer ever since they met or inadvertently stripping him of his title, lands, and all his possessions?

"I still don't see why this would forbid me from freely giving Arthur the throne back."

"Your Majesty, the former king is no longer a noble, as the Pendragon line is no longer recognized as a noble house. As such, Arthur is now, by law, a peasant, and it is against Bruta's code for a ruler to cede their throne to anyone but a noble for any period of time."

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream. Why, why?! Why couldn't he just make Arthur a noble again and be done with this farce and-

Wait a minute.

There was a way to make Arthur a noble.

Oh no, Arthur was going to hate this. But, Merlin steeled himself, this was the only way to make things right.

And that's all for now! I had a lot of fun making Gwaine the ultimate "ride or die" bestie for Merlin in this situation lol! I'll definitely be doing a part three of this au soon to resolve this cliffhanger!

Please let me know what you all thought of this continuation!

A huge thank you to everyone who supported my last au post and asked for this continuation! I'll try to tag you all here, my apologies if I missed anyone!

@cookie-player , @miyriu , @nebulousconstellationwriter , @insane-multifandom-brainrot , @elementalpirate4 ,

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms , @gaiussleechtank , @arrowlovesdragons , @lordmushroomkat , @bucketheadpunk14 ,

@retro-wallflower , @ryeallytired , @verxen , @mind-of-a-crow , @aostrek-236 ,

@thedragonkinproject , @orliththedragon , @theroundbartable , @my-own-quiet-corner , @tireddruid ,

@coffee-shop-gay , @sable-nakahara , @deadhotpocket , @bennedict , @samwinjester ,

@linotheghost , @aerismoon , @merthurogies , @ahumoki0 , @chairwiththreelegs ,

@achillesuwu , @pancakesandpigs , @the-king-and-the-druidess , @sugar-coated-prat-dragon , @isaidno ,

@justaz , @auldsusie

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

EDIT: A question for those of you I'm tagging, I'm not sure if this is a tumblr issue or if I'm screwing something up on my end, but after the first few tagged blogs, it shows up on my screen like the tags are just plain text and not linked to anything. So, for those of you that are tagged, can you confirm that you're getting a notification when I tag you? I want to make sure everyone who requested a continuation knows when it's posted!

2nd EDIT: I've tried to fix the tag problem, I'm very sorry if you already saw this post and then got a notification!

[rebelscums]

Ardent (Qimir x Ex Jedi reader)

The beginning Part One of Ardent

Ratings: Angst | Fluff | Strangers to Friends | Friends to Lovers | Abuse | Violence | Questioning the Jedi order | Slowburn

Summary: You have been by his side since the beginning… This is your story.

The best down on your form in the training arena located outside. Hundreds of flowers decorated around the outside arena making it serene despite the structure and rigorous exercises you had to go through, but you believed that each test made you stronger and you would become a noble Jedi like your master.

“Fix your form padawan.” Your master pointed at the wrong position of your right foot.

“Apologies master.” You swiftly fixed your form hoping that you appeased her.

It seemed to work as Master Elysande gave you an appreciative nod, “Well done. Now I want you to concentrate on the way the branch moves on the tree in front of you. Mimic this movement until your energy matches…”

You listened intently to your master, her black hair braided to fall behind her pointed ears. As you nodded your head you caught movement toward the right of your vision and it was at that moment Qimir walked by, following ardently behind his master, Master Balaam.

His hair fell delicately around his face despite the other padawan’s cutting theirs short to make it easier for training. His padawan braid reach just past his shoulder however, his beads reminding you of the ocean. He kept his gaze on the dark grey robe his master wore, walking swiftly behind him. The small action allowed you to admire him silently from afar. To say that you had a small crush on the boy was an understatement, but you did notice one important detail about him.

Qimir was always… Quiet.

You noticed that he tended to keep to himself. He never made a face or spoke against his master. You however were quiet the opposite. You were loud and spirited. You had a million questions, ones that only a few that your master would indulge in. Master Elysande choose you because of your active imagination and bright look about the galaxy. She would say it gave you a footing over the other padawan’s when it came to the force because of how strong your connection was to life around you.

You were quite friendly, but when it came to Qimir… Well you felt as if your words were stuck in your throat and you couldn’t push yourself to speak. He didn’t speak to you either and it would always end with you watching him wordlessly.

Other padawan’s such as your friend Gerel speculated that he was mute. You didn’t think she could possibly be right. Ifa just thought that Qimir was strange agreeing with the others. You however were curious about the tall silent boy. You wanted to learn more about him, speak with him and perhaps be friends. You thought that you both would make the perfect pair however, with your daydream you didn’t expect his eyes to lock onto yours. Suddenly your cheeks began to burn and you knew it wasn’t just from the heat.

“Padawan.” Master Elysande called out to you again for the third time, “Focus.”

You cleared your throat hoping that your cheeks would cool down as you turned your attention back to your master.

“Sorry master.” You muttered quickly though secretly you were counting down the minutes until you saw him again.

It seemed that the force was on your side

“We will begin this new year with something that is a little different from our traditional training. Each of you will be partnering up with one another to improve your connection to the force as well as your combat skills. This partnership will carry on as you become Jedi’s.” Master Aarati explained, “It is up to you to choose your partner wisely so that you may become knowledgeable in the force.”

You were excited for the revelation as you twiddled your fingers under your robes. This was the perfect moment to talk to Qimir without being too pushy. You thought as you looked around.

“Do you want to—“ Ifa began, but you couldn’t let Ifa finish what they were going to say.

“I’m really sorry but I already have a partner in mind.” You spoke quickly, “Maybe next time!” You called back to your friend as you dove into the crowd. You had a mission and you had your nerves at least for now.

You couldn’t mess this up. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you did.

Your master also thought you were a bit dramatic in your training as well.

You weaved around padawan’s trying to pick their own partners as you spotted a mop of dark raven hair. Please don’t have a partner… Please don’t have a partner… You thought as you finally broke past the hive of padawan’s.

There he stood, looking a bit out of place beside his master. He had his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze looked indifferent as you approached him.

“Master Balaam.” You greeted his master first with a bow before turning your attention to Qimir, “Qimir…” You took a breath, “Would you like to be my partner for this trial?”

You waited with a bated breath as his eyes roamed your figure. You knew you didn’t have anything special or unique about you like some of the other padawan’s, but you were content in being normal. He however… Was not.

“No.”

That was the first word he ever said to you… No.

The rejection made you feel embarrassed and singled out as you stood there awkwardly.

“No?” You wanted to be sure, “Are you sure you don’t—“

“I am always certain in what I say.” He replied.

“Oh…” Your voice trailed off.

His master didn’t seem to make the situation any lighter as he stared silently through your soul. Your master however could sense the growing unease inside of you and gracefully took her place by your side once more.

“Is there a problem?” She directed her question to Master Balaam.

“She is too frail to train with my padawan. Qimir needs someone who can match his strength with the force.” Master Balaam answered indifferently as if this conversation was wasting his time.

“I see.” Elysande nodded and you had to refrain from laughing at the way she was trying intently not to roll her eyes, “But before you judge the strength of my padawan by her looks alone. How about we allow our padawan’s to duel. A test of sorts should do the trick in proving you wrong.”

At that you couldn’t help but snort. The reaction received a gentle nudge from your master to quiet you down.

“She won’t last.” Master Balaam said.

“We’ll see about that.” Your master motioned for you to follow her, “Follow us.” She spoke and you were quick to grace her side.

“That is the boy you were distracted by is it not?” Elysande asked softly. She held no disgust or disappointment in her tone, only a light curiosity that allowed you to open up to her more freely.

You nodded speaking quietly, “He is… Different from the others.”

“Different is not always a good thing. Difference can lead you astray from the path.” Your master passed on wisdom.

“I understand master.” You nodded your head.

You found yourself underneath the only plum tree in your temple. You were facing against Qimir who seemed tense under the watchful gaze of his master.

“This should be quick.” Master Balaam commented and crossed his arms.

Those sharp words had you grinding your teeth as a determined expression took over your usual soft features. You would not be bested by those who think less of you. You readied yourself, holding your lightsaber in first position.

Qimir ignited his lightsaber, holding it in a familiar stance. He didn’t seem tense anymore as if he was in his element. You could see that he liked the feel of power from the way his fingers opened and closed around his blue lightsaber.

Your green one flickered against your eyes and you counted down silently at the same time as your master.

“Begin.” Master Elysande said.

You charged Qimir with speed, ready to take him down with the new move you learned, but he sensed your plan and diverted it with a single step. You stumbled towards the tree and you would have face planted against it too if it weren’t for Qimir pulling you back by your right arm.

“Account for your opponents steps. Focus on their movements and not just your own.” He said softly.

You looked up at him before nodded your head and taking a step back, “Okay.”

You returned to your starting spot with a new frame of mind. It was something your master picked up immediately as she watched you take your time to attack Qimir instead of just rushing in.

“They complement one another.” Master Elysande commented as you told Qimir to be more aggressive when using the force, “This new training technique may be affective for the future of Jedi.”

“I don’t think it is a good thing.” Said Master Balaam motioned to you and Qimir with his head, “This trial for a new training technique could form attachments amongst the padawan.”

Master Elysande remained quiet in thought wondering if what Master Balaam was explaining could come true.

You continued to spar alongside Qimir. However, you were no match for his quick and precise movements. It was clear that he was being trained relentlessly by his master to become the perfect Jedi. In the end as he pinned you to the ground. Qimir stood over you with his lightsaber pointed at your neck.

“Well done.” Your master nodded her head in approval and you smiled despite losing.

Master Balaam however said nothing as Qimir looked at him. You could see the way his shoulders slumped only slightly and you could only imagine how dejected he must feel. That is why you brought his attention back to you and tried to cheer him up.

“Good fight.” You took a deep breath. It was quite a work out and exhaustion overtook you.

He turned off his lightsaber and clipped it back onto his belt, “It was.” He said as he stuck his hand out towards you.

You took it gratefully and allowed him to pull you up, “So does this mean that you will have me as your partner?”

“Y—” Qimir didn’t get a chance to give his answer before Master Balaam tugged him back by his robe.

“No.” Master Balaam stated as he stepped in front of him, “You’ve only proven to me how reckless you are young padawan.”

“She has only proven to be a good match for Qimir.” Master Elysande intervened, “They can hone their skills by working together.” She clasped her hands over her stomach, “I believe that their differences can bring the best out of each other.”

“Or the worst.” Master Balaam waved his hand dismissively, “Come padawan. Let us go.”

Qimir glanced at you with a sad look in his eyes before following his master’s order. You looked to your master with wide and expressive eyes that showed how upset you were at not being paired with Qimir.

“Wait.” Master Elysande called out to Balaam, “Let’s us see what the council thinks.”

You never knew how much you appreciated your master until that very moment.

You stood behind your master as she explained to the council the benefits of pairing both you and Qimir together.

“We decided on this trial for a reason. I believe these two will be a successful case by the time they become Jedi knights.” Master Elysande explained.

“It is a foolish dream driven by a desire to put your padawan ahead. She is not as skilled as Qimir and never will be. I do not see any reason why they should continue to train together.” Master Balaam countered.

You peaked over at Qimir as the council murmured about what they should do about this predicament. Qimir didn’t show any emotion on his face. He looked calm as his hands were clasped behind his back. He didn’t show the childlike personality that the two of you should have at your age.

He won’t look over at me either. He must know that I am staring at him. You thought, a small disappointed frown on your face as you focused your attention back on your master. You wanted to joke with him, perhaps make him laugh at the audacity that his master had.

“We incline to agree with Master Elysande.” Master Charvik finally announced.

Master Faheem whose eyes shine of the brightest ocean and skin the color of turquoise to accent her gills also chimed in, “I have had a vision through the force as well. I believe that the force has called the two together for a reason… One I do not understand, but a reason that will create a strong bond within the force.”

“I agree with your wisdom Master Faheem.” Master Charvin said, the cloth wrapped around his hands slightly unraveled as he motioned for the meeting to come to an end.

Relief filled your lungs as you breathed out. You were nervous about what Master Faheem saw in her vision, but excited to continue your training with Qimir. You only hoped that he felt the same way… You just wanted to become as strong as he was. To understand his way of the force.

“Then it is settled.” Master Balaam’s jaw was clenched, but he didn’t show any other signs of anger, “Qimir will continue his training alongside Master Elysande’s padawan. Let us hope that your vision is not wrong Master Faheem.” A thin frown graced his lips as a sour tone overtook his tone.

The council paid no mind to Master Balaam’s dismay over the matter and did what they did best, hide their feelings.

“Thank you for your thoughts and decision on this subject.” Master Elysande nodded her head towards the Jedi council before turning to leave the room. You fell into step with her as the two of you left, you with a pep in your step as you walked.

As you and your master internally commended your victory, you made a silent vow to bake master Elysande the best batch of muffins she had ever tasted in thanks to her. In your promise you turned your head to find Master Balaam and Qimir walk past the both of you.

You didn’t expect anything from them so it came as a surprise when you felt a tiny scroll of paper being slipped into your small hand. Qimir didn’t speak of it as he continued to follow his master who was swiftly trying to get past you.

Your heart raced as you waited until you were in the safety of your room to unroll the piece of paper. It was then that you knew even as young as you were that he was going to be apart of your life forever. Your very first crush created just from a few words scrawled on a piece of paper.

Meet me by the plum tree tonight. I really

Thank you. — Q

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: no use of y/n, cheating, protected piv sex, light degradation kink, spanking, phone sex kinda?, shitty boyfriend behavior, mentions of alcohol/partying, some angst, all characters are 18+!

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: i’ve worked so hard to spruce up this series and i’m so excited to be reposting it for you all. be on the lookout for the next two parts. this fic is my actual baby, and it means so much to me. i hope you all enjoy xx.

word count: 4.3k

It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on.

You always thought Eddie Munson, the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice that opinion to anyone. Mostly due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone in Hawkins— was the definition of perfect.

Scott McGuire was a great boyfriend… on the surface.

He was a star basketball player, friends with the most popular people in school. His family was loaded, despite being from a small town like Hawkins. He drove a Mercedes, and made you feel so special. When he had asked you out halfway through your junior year, you were over the moon.

And in the beginning of your relationship, you were beyond smitten with him. But after a year of dating him, you’d come to realize he was nothing you had wanted.

Scott was arrogant, vain and downright cruel. His biggest flaw being that he took absolute pleasure in causing pain to others. The main target of his rage was Eddie and his band of ‘freaks’. His best friend Jason was right by his side, constantly tormenting the group. But always Eddie more so than anyone else. You never enjoyed it, always finding a way to escape the moment an insult (or a punch) was thrown his way.

Despite all of this, you felt pressured to stay with him.

Your parents absolutely adored him and so did your friends. Most of which were the girlfriends of his friends. Your lives had become so interwoven you felt trapped. So to appease everyone else in your life, you continued the relationship. Even though you knew you didn’t love him.

In your eyes he was, all around, the worst boyfriend you could have landed… especially when it came to sex.

Scott was terrible in bed.

He only wanted you on his terms, only caring about his wants and needs. And in the year you’d been with him, he’d never made you come. Not once. At first you thought something was wrong with you, that you were broken.

But the more you talked with your friends on the cheer squad, the quicker you began to realize it was a Scott problem. Not a you problem. So you started faking it, your little act becoming so good that you even deluded yourself into believing it sometimes.

But that was how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place.

You were at a party at Chrissy’s, a celebration for the basketball team making it to the state championship. Initially you wanted to stay home, as parties were never something you enjoyed. But you knew how bad it would look if you didn’t show. So you went, swallowing your pride with a fake smile plastered across your face.

You let yourself fall into the role of the proud, doting girlfriend. You knew how to play it well, as it was second nature to you at this point.

At some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. Those promises fell short, as they always did. Scott had you propped up on the unmade bed, gripping your hips as he pounded sloppily into you. The fake moans that left your lips somehow had convinced you both that you were enjoying yourself.

That is until the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene. He was originally looking for the bathroom, much to the embarrassment of you both. You couldn’t hide the shame that flitted across your features, or stop your moans from faltering slightly.

Scott miraculously didn’t notice the intrusion as he continued to thrust into you, your fake moans continuing to fill the small bedroom. Your eyes were locked with Eddie’s as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments, before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and quickly left the room.

You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that following Monday.

You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, that faded Hellfire shirt hugged his broad shoulders nicely. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as you tried not to stare. But those brown eyes seemed to look right through you.

“You know, I’ve seen better acting in pornos.” He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you.

Or to alert Ms. Hall, the school librarian.

She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You had hoped that maybe Eddie would’ve been too drunk to remember what happened at the party. Or both of you would ignore the situation.

But that clearly wasn’t the case. You can feel the embarrassment coursing through you as you actively avoided his curious gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson,” you sneer before turning on your heel, grabbing a random book off the shelf in the process.

You clutch the paperback closer to your chest as you quickly try to escape the conversation.

He doesn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you before taking a seat next to you at one of the study tables.

“I mean it must be frustrating, faking it all the time,” he continues nonchalantly, resting a ringed hand next to yours on the table.

His fingertips drum against the faux wood, as you struggle to think of a reply. But your continued silence and flustered appearance spoke volumes as you began to fiddle with the frayed hem of your dress.

Eddie leans in closer, letting his breath fan across your face. The smell of his spicy cologne and a hint of smoke engulfs your senses, making your head spin.

He hums softly, keeping his voice low, “Just doesn’t seem fair. Any decent guy would make sure you were being treated well.”

You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip as you stopped yourself from leaning against him.

“He does treat me well,” you whisper back, glancing down at the book as you begin flipping through the pages.

Eddie scoffs at the notion as his hand reaches out to close the cover again. His fingertips brush against yours in the process, the small touch sending tingles down your spine.

The male glances around the mostly empty library before he leans in closer. His lips nearly graze the shell of your ear as you hold your breath in anticipation. Eddie chuckles deeply, enjoying just how flustered he’s made you.

“Well, if you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of…” he trails off, as you let out a shaky breath. “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”

The promise behind his words instantly makes your thighs clench together. Watching in stunned silence as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library.

Those words sat with you for days, taunting you.

Finding yourself utterly frustrated, in more ways than one. You just couldn’t shake how badly you wanted to take him up on that offer. Morally, you knew it was wrong— you had a boyfriend.

But there was something that felt so right about it.

Despite your initial reservations, you very quickly found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van. Your legs were flung over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his curls as his tongue had you seeing stars. It became blatantly obvious from your first time together that there was no way this could be a one time thing.

So you compromised, agreeing to meet up once a week. But only on Sundays, when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents. Ironically your family was not the church going type, but your boyfriend never questioned it.

However the longer you snuck around with Eddie, the more insatiable you became. Until it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to show you everything you were missing out on. It had surprised the both of you, but Eddie was more than happy to oblige.

But the constant sneaking around meant you couldn’t exclusively fuck in the back of his van anymore. Causing the both of you to become more creative in the process.

More than once you’d pull him under the bleachers in the gym once basketball practice ended. His ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you dropped to your knees. Or he’d bend you over the table in the drama room after a Hellfire campaign, dice and crushed cans of Mountain Dew falling off the table with each thrust of his hips.

But it still wasn’t enough, which led you to take more drastic measures.

You were on all fours, fingers clutching your floral bed sheets as Eddie pounded into you from behind.

Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Which left you with the house all to yourself, something that didn’t happen often. So this was an opportunity you didn’t want to pass up. Dialing his number before you even got out of bed that morning.

Regardless of his not so stellar reputation, it didn’t seem to sway a lot of women in Hawkins. And despite what Scott might have told you, Eddie has had plenty of sexual partners before. As many jumped at the chance to see if the rumors about the local freak were true. Which only seemed to fuel more rumors about the metalhead.

But out of everyone he had ever slept with— you were by far the neediest of them all.

Eddie couldn’t deny that he loved it. Knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. He would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were.

Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you begged the town freak to fuck you harder.

“Look at you, such a needy little slut,” he chuckles, condensation lacing his tone. “Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock, huh?”

Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, and he certainly knew how to use it. His cock reached places inside you that you didn’t know existed until now. So it was no surprise that you didn’t want to wait another day to see him again.

But deep down you knew that wasn’t the only reason you had called him over. However, you weren’t entirely ready to have that conversation with yourself yet.

“I… shit,” you mewl, finding yourself at a loss for words as he increased his pace.

Pathetic whines spill past your lips with each thrust of his hips, your walls gripping him tightly. Pleasure coursed through you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A mixture of your arousal and his spit was smeared across your thighs. A reminder of where he’d been slotted between them earlier.

“Aww, come on, sweetheart,” he teases, nipping at your ear as he slows to a more gradual pace. “Be a good girl and tell me who’s making you feel so good.”

The orgasm that had been building in your abdomen suddenly fizzles out as he stills his hips at your deepest point. You nearly cry out in defeat as he lands a harsh slap on your ass.

You knew the rules by now, he needed to hear you.

“Y-You… fuck you are, Eddie.” He hummed in response, guiding your hips forward.

“That’a girl.”

The drag of his cock has you whining, the sound quickly being drowned out by the phone on your bedside table. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you began grinding your ass back against him. But he grips your hips to stop any further movement.

“Answer it.”

Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder at him, bewilderment crossing your features. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap on your ass, “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”

You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end so soon. You’d come to realize just how much Eddie enjoyed teasing you the more you slept together. But you’d had enough teasing for one day.

So you place the receiver against your ear, trying to calm your erratic breathing, “H-Hello?”

You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.

“You alright, babe? You sound winded,” you can hear the slightest bit of suggestiveness in his tone, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

This was something you’d come to expect from Scott, the male always finding a way to bring sex into every conversation. Despite knowing he was actually spot on this time, only it wasn’t your fingers that were buried inside you.

But what you didn’t anticipate was for Eddie to start thrusting back into you at a leisurely pace. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment before you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.

“I’m great, Scott.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Eddie’s lips graze over your shoulder, “J-Just in the middle of a… workout.”

You hear Eddie laugh softly behind you, the male on the other end blissfully unaware of the kind of workout you were currently engaged in. Despite your initial reservations about answering the phone, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. Almost wanting to be caught like this.

“You still swinging by the party tonight?” Scott asks, as you continue to pulse around Eddie’s thick shaft.

His thrusts deepen, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit. Your thoughts are completely jumbled as you try to stay engaged with the conversation. But it’s proving to be difficult.

“P-Party?” You breathe out, gripping the receiver tighter in your palm.

You can hear your boyfriend’s annoyed sigh, knowing he was rolling his eyes as your own rolled into the back of your head. Eddie grunts softly in your other ear as he rams into your sweet spot. It took every bit of your remaining self restraint to not moan directly into the phone.

“It’s Tommy’s birthday. I told you about it last week,” he huffs, clearly no longer amused.

You vaguely recall the conversation, but lately you’d found yourself tuning him out more and more. Having much more important things to occupy your attention.

“Right! No, I remember now.” Your words come out whinier than you intended, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice.

You were getting close, and Eddie knew it too.

“So? Are you coming?”

Eddie stifles another laugh at the unintended joke.

He quickly wraps his ringed fingers around the base of your throat and lifts you, so your back is now flush against his sweaty chest. The new angle allows him to slip even deeper inside, causing a gasp to escape you. You quickly disguise it as a cough, before answering your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen, I-I gotta go. See you tonight.”

You hang up the phone before he even has a chance to respond. The loud moan that was trapped in your throat is finally set free, earning a groan from the male behind you.

Eddie’s disheveled curls began tickling your face as he leaned toward your ear again, “Bet he didn’t suspect a damn thing, huh?”

You can hear the smugness in his tone, whimpering as he puts more pressure on your clit.

“Cause he can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he, sweetheart?” You frantically nod your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder.

You know you can’t hold out for much longer, and judging by the way his cock twitches inside you— Eddie won’t either.

His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, sucking harshly as you tremble in his arms.

“Ed… f-fuck I’m gonna—” you are unable to finish your thought as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you.

He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, the sound being his undoing. He spills into the condom with a grunt of your name, his chest heaving as he buries himself at your deepest point. The sounds of his erratic breathing mixes with yours, filling the now quiet space of your bedroom. Feeling utterly weak in the best way possible.

And if his arms weren’t securely wrapped around your waist, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress.

You stay entangled like that for a few moments while you both come down from your highs. Enjoying the way his lips press against the curve of your shoulder.

Eddie’s actions are gentle now, carefully guiding your hips up to slip out of you. He coaxes you to lay on your back, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you gazed up at him. As amazing as the sex was, what came after was just as enjoyable.

Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable.

Especially after a round in the sheets, he was particularly cold. In the year you’d been together Scott had never once held you or comforted you. It always left you with an overwhelming sense of shame— of feeling used.

So naturally you had expected the same kind of treatment from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. After that first time together you had begun to put your clothes back on, attempting to leave right away.

But he stopped you with a soft, “Don’t go.”

It didn’t take much convincing as you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He kept you tucked in his embrace for hours, fingertips dancing along your hip. From that moment on it was the same treatment. His affection only increased the more you fooled around.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the bed to toss the condom in your trash bin. Giving Eddie the opportunity to finally take a look around your room.

You suddenly felt nervous as he made his way over to your record collection, flicking through the vinyls with the utmost care. While your popularity status had recently changed due to dating Scott, you always felt out of place amongst them. You could never be your full authentic self, in fear of rejection from your peers.

Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. It is quiet for a moment, the crackle of the record is almost comforting. Soon the beginning notes of the Labyrinth soundtrack fill that silence. You instantly feel shy, not expecting him to choose that album in particular.

Your boyfriend had teased you relentlessly for your love of David Bowie, always complaining about how weird he was. It made you feel ashamed to talk about any of your interests, most of which you’d hidden away in fear of being mocked.

But with that small act Eddie had proved, once again, that he was superior to Scott in every way imaginable.

He begins to hum along to the opening track, grabbing his boxers from the pile of your discarded clothes on the floor. Sliding the checkered material back over his legs, the fabric hanging low on his hips. You bite your lip as your eyes drift over his pale skin, zeroing in on the patch of hair that descended into his waistband.

“Keep giving me those eyes and we’re gonna have a problem, princess.” He teases, his smirk widening as he catches you ogling him.

You feel your body flush as he shoots you a playful wink before slipping into your adjoined bathroom. You hear the tap turn on, the rush of water mingling with the sultry baritone of Bowie’s vocals. You allow your body to relax against the mattress, a sense of calm washing over you.

Eddie wasn’t gone for long, emerging from the bathroom with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He sets the glass on your nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. The male carefully parts your legs, pressing a kiss to your knee as he cleans up the mess of salvia and slick that has dried onto your thighs.

You let your eyes linger on his face, watching him in complete admiration. His cheeks are tinged pink, no doubt from the weight of your gaze. He’s also not used to being regarded with such gentleness.

Eddie sheepishly avoids your eyes as he stands, tossing the used cloth into your hamper. You scoot into a sitting position to take a few sips of water from the glass. Blatantly checking him out as he bends over to grab another piece of clothing from your carpeted floor.

“Arms up,” he instructs, allowing him to pull your oversized shirt over your head.

He quickly joins you again, causing a small giggle to escape you as he squeezes himself onto your twin sized mattress. The male grins, allowing you to drape your body over his. You tangle your limbs together, instinctively resting your head on his chest.

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the steady beat of his heart in your ear. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head.

In moments like this, it was easy for you to pretend that Eddie Munson was all yours.

There were no worries about being caught, or what anyone in this god forsaken town had to say about it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize that you wanted him all to yourself.

You knew it was incredibly selfish, he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret side piece. So you kept these newly emerging feelings to yourself.

“You feeling okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t too rough or anything, was I?”

Eddie’s tone was vastly different from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and yet it only made your adoration for him grow. Knowing he truly cared about your feelings, it wasn’t just a courtesy.

His hand gently caresses your sore ass, his fingertips continuing to ghost over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver as you nuzzled your face back into his chest.

“It was perfect.” You hum, voice echoing your contentment, “You were perfect.”

Gentle, rough or anything in between— you’d be grateful as long as it was with him.

You were sure he could feel the warmth that had begun to seep into your cheeks at your admission. Reaching out his hand to delicately grasp your chin, tilting your head up to meet his curious gaze.

But it wasn’t just curiosity that shone through his eyes.

There was something else. Something deeper simmering beneath the surface of his irises.

This was uncharted territory for you, as no one, not even your boyfriend had regarded you in such a way before. But that single look alone made your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs.

You both begin to lean in without realizing, lips brushing together as you cradle his jaw. This was something completely new for both of you. While you’d kissed plenty of times, it never happened after the sex ended.

This was quickly becoming a dangerous game, one neither of you had any intention of losing.

And as hard as you tried to avoid your feelings, you knew you were starting to fall for him. Which was the most dangerous game of them all.

Your lips continued to move against each other for what felt like forever, only breaking apart to catch your breath every so often. Kissing Eddie was just as addicting as every other part of him, and you never wanted it to end.

So you stayed like that for hours, stealing kisses in between gentle words. He told you about his home life with Wayne, how he’d listened and memorized every single chord of Master of Puppets until he got it right. Little things that made you understand exactly who Eddie Munson really was.

But time seemed to pass by in an instant, the evening sky bathing the walls of your room in a golden hue. A signal that it was time for him to leave.

You felt a tug on your heartstrings as you watched him slide open your bedroom window, desperately wishing the circumstances were different.

“Wait!” you call as he was already halfway through the window, flashing you a grin as you bounded over to him.

You press a searing kiss to his mouth as he cups your cheek, neither of you quite willing to be the first to pull away.

“I gotta go,” he tries to mask the disappointment in his tone, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping out of your window completely.

You watch as the male clumsily jumps down from the second story, his wallet chain jingling upon impact. Eddie takes a moment to steady himself before he turns back to glance up at you. Giving you a little bow before he’s off, cutting through your neighbors yard to get back to his van.

You can hear the blaring guitar of Quiet Riot as he starts up the engine, the rumble echoing in your ears as he takes off down the empty street.

Taking a little piece of your heart with him.

— next chapter.

tagging some peeps who seemed interested 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @vamp-bunny @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lokis-army-77

and a special shoutout to my bby @undead-supernova for always being my lil cheerleader ily 🫶🏻

[volklana]

Sihtric's Whore

Request: how about in season 3 when Sihtric 'betrays' Uhtred to go and spy on the danes, you try to stop him from taking the captives and then in the morning even though he doesn't mean it Uhtred scolds you in front of everyone for just 'letting him go'

Warning: Use of the word whore in a derogatory manner.

My very first time writing for this character I hope I did him justice.

Requests are open.

Sihtric was becoming more solemn with each sip, an uneasy expression crossing his face.

One you were not used to seeing, one that made you, in turn, uneasy.

Finan was barely able to stay awake, head propped up on his hand and you were yearning for Uhtred to finally release you all so you could away to bed. 

Having checked on Osferth already, your eyes were heavy and your heart was weary, you would never admit to another soul that you had cried tears beside the sleeping baby monk earlier, death had come a little too close for your liking and until Skade had lifted her curse, you were afraid for your friends that it’s boney arms would try to snatch another one of them away before their time.  

You released a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Uhtred approached your table. 

You watched in horror as the arguing began between Uhtred and Sihtric, reaching out a hand to stay Sihtric and shrinking when he swatted it away, as Uhtred got up to leave.

“Sihtric, you are drunk and tired,” Finan hissed and you silently urged Sihtric with your eyes not to continue down this path.

You were both equally horrified when Uhtred swung back around, informing Sihtric he was welcome to leave if he was unhappy in his service.

You and Finan were out of your seats quicker than the blink of an eye when Sihtric rounded on Unthred, raising his voice “I have fought for you!”

“Sihtric please, please don’t do this,” you pleaded, hands on his chest attempting to push him back towards his seat and he swung wildly free from your grasp with a snarl. 

You turned, silently pleading with Uhtred when he spat “Stay or go I do not care,” you could not hide the hurt that etched across your face. 

“He does not mean that. He does care.” Finan tried to appease, urging everyone to sit back down. 

“If you wish to make the square Uhtred of Bebbanburgh, let us do it.”

“No,” you and Finan cried out in unison “There will be no squares made, no fighting, just sleep!” Finan pleaded. 

After Uhtred’s threat to kill Sihtric if he was still here in the morning you heard your blood pound in your ears. 

You scurried after Uhtred, catching him just as he made it outside.

“Uhtred,” you called but he made no reply “Lord,” you cried out this time more urgent and when he finally turned to face you, you could see the venom in his eyes.

“You can’t mean it, please?” 

“Every word,” he spat “And if that displeases you little one, you may follow.” 

You shrank back from him eyes stinging at the betrayal and burst your way back into the tavern. 

You took a seat beside a defeated Finan. Sihtric was refusing to face either of you. Turning his attention instead to the Danes. You grasped at Finan’s hand a silent plea to reassure you that everything was going to be okay, and he shook his head, eyes softening when he took in your huge, worried ones staring back. He couldn’t reassure you, because he couldn’t even reassure himself. 

You were sitting by Osferth’s side, sleep had long evaded you with the worry pitting in your stomach and for the first time in your life you prayed to the gods that morning would not come, your only hope at preventing the inevitable fall out from this night.

You saw the flicker of shadows and the muffled sound of steps pass Osferth’s window and realised with a start that the Danes were escaping and grabbing your sword you set off in pursuit, you arrived just as Sihtric was about to mount his horse.

“Sihtric,” you cried out in disbelief “What is this?” You demanded, angrily holding the sword up to his chest, whilst the rest of the Danes looked on.

You watched as his expression hardened “I am leaving, as has been commanded,” he spat.

“You began this course, Sihtric. I begged you. As I am begging you now. Please do not do this.” 

“It is done,” he said with a finality, eyes softening only for a second when he registered the tears in your eyes.

“Put down the sword, y/n,” he urged, grasping your weapon by the blade and easing it down, “We both know you will not harm me. I leave tonight, come with me if you wish. You know I will care for you and keep you safe but I will offer this only once.”

“You know I can’t,” you cried begging him with your eyes “Please stay here. With me,”

“You know I can’t,” he countered softly, before his eyes hardened again, “Stay with Uhtred or come with me. Make your decision now and make it quick.”

You shook your head as tears freely slipped down your face and he nodded with a snarl, before turning and mounting his horse “And so you have made it, as I have made mine,” he kicked his horse into action and you watched in horror as the Danes did the same, leaving you amidst the chaos of hooves and dust. 

Finan burst into your room at first light and one look at your disheveled appearance told him everything he needed to know.

“I couldn’t stop him,” you cried into his chest “He wouldn’t stay.” 

“Hush now, it’s alright,” the Irish man soothed rubbing patterns onto your back “You’re alright. I’ve got ya.”

Osferth was well enough to make it to the Alehouse and was delighting in having you and Finan fetch him anything he needed, namely ale. 

Silence descended when Uhtred returned back, as he and Finan embraced and he informed him Sihtric was gone, you watched in silence as he embraced Osferth and then his eyes like lightning found yours, and you quickly turned your gaze to the floor. 

“I tried to stop him lord,” was all you could mutter.

“You let him escape,” he answered back quickly “And the prisoners,”

“Yes, lord,” you confirmed and he made a tutting noise, followed by a long sigh.

“She was one girl against a band of Danes,” Osferth argued on your behalf 

“She was one girl, in love with one Dane,” Uhtred fired back and you felt your body light on fire with shame amidst the laughter that broke out among the men.

Your voice shook as you wrung your hands together “But I chose you, and I won’t fail you again lord,” 

Uhtred softened at this, his expression melting, and he nodded your way with a soft, reassuring smile before he pulled you into a quick embrace. 

“It is done, little one,” he whispered affectionately and you felt the weight of seven worlds fall off your shoulders. 

Sihtric’s betrayal, the men and Osferth to your horror were calling it. As though Uhtred was the Christian nailed god, and Sihtric were Judas, you knew thirty pieces of silver had not been exchanged but maybe that would have made his desertion somewhat more understandable than a few heated words. But if Uhtred was Christ and Sihtric was Judas, you had become Mary Magdalene, the whore of the story. Sihtric’s whore to be precise, that’s what some of the men had taken to sneering at you, and one even spat as you were readying your horse to ride to the Dane camp alongside Uhtred, “Sihtric’s whore.”

You hunkered down in the overgrowth amongst the men watching the Dane camp, heart hammering in your chest. You knew Sihtric was within the camp and you knew that there would be no hesitation to kill him from the group of men you lay beside. You had tried to convince yourself that you would be able to hurt him if it came to it, but you knew deep down you would rather run the blade through yourself than harm him. Even after it all. Even now.

It was Finan who had sat beside you last night, your eyes tired and face gaunt and he bumped your shoulder in his merry way before taking your hand in his. Sometimes you thought Finan was the only one who truly saw how much you were suffering Sihtric’s loss.

Truth be told he had been teasing Sihtric for months about you, any man would have to be blind to not see the way Sihtric looked at you. He was your shadow ever since the day you joined the group. Always by your side, always prepared to help you up or down from your horse. He never returned with a mug of ale for himself, without one for you too.He always strategically set your tent up closer to the fire, sneaking you more furs and food rations when he thought you weren’t looking.

Finan had been sure the Dane was smitten by you, and he watched your regard for the Dane grow by the day. You tended all his wounds with tender hands and you oftentimes braided his hair, humming softly to yourself as your hands worked gently through his soft curls. In the evenings of merriment, he would watch your body lean almost subconsciously towards Sihtric and your eyes, half-hooded, always seemed to be memorizing his face when he wasn’t looking at you.

“You know he’s going to be there,” he murmured softly and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“I know,” you sniffed resolutely, “I’ve made my peace with it, and should the moment arise I am prepared.”

Finan squeezed your hand again once for good measure and left you with your mug of ale.

“Someone’s coming!” Finan shushed and a hush ran through your camp. 

“It is Sihtric,” Osferth gasped and you felt your stomach drop to your toes. 

“You have something to say to me boy?” Uhtred demanded and Sihtric approached further, steely determination across the features you knew so well. 

“Yield to me,” he commanded and pressed his sword towards Uhtred’s chest, you were sprung like a coil ready to unleash if needed you watched Finan do the same. You were reminded of that night in the alehouse when you and Finan had acted in unison to try to prevent this. 

You watched in horror as Uhtred and Sihtric erupted into laughter and moved to embrace each other, amidst Osferth’s joyful announcing that they had been playing you all. 

“I fooled you,” Sihtric beamed to Finan who was almost stuttering in disbelief claiming to have known it was all a jest all along. Finan, Osferth and Sihtric took their turns embracing each other but you were rooted to the spot. You felt the world spinning like you were going to be sick and you pushed yourself through the men until you breached the last line and you were spilling your guts out onto the forest floor. 

A pair of mismatched eyes searched the crowd for you, his face scrunching when he was unable to find you, and then turned his attention back to Uhtred as they formulated their plan for the night.

“You’ve never failed me Sihtric, I will see you at the tree,” you heard Uhtred utter proudly and then your legs gave way.

It was Finan who found you trembling at the back of the pack,“Good jaysus,” he mumbled before hoisting you up and patting you down before Uhted called him away. There would be time to sort this all out once this night had passed. 

You followed through the long grass, fleeing to the ships following Sihtric’s lead. Uhtred had secured Skade and you were being pursued by Haeston’s Danes. You cut down any Dane who stood between you and the ship, jumping with ease and landing into strong arms that pulled you to the safety within, you punched at Sihtric's chest urging him to let go and were glad when he relented, turning instead to steady the men who were fleeing onboard. You pulled with all your might under Finan’s shouted orders, boring daggers into the back of the man you loved sitting in front of you. 

Osferth was too weak too row and your arms were screaming with pain, having rowed through the night. The oars were beginning to blister your hands but you refused to give in.

Sihtric had tried to sneak glances over his shoulder at you but you refused to meet his eye. Instead turning all your anger and wasted worry into ensuring you kept rowing.

Your aching body was relieved to finally moor in Coccham, swatting Sihtric’s hand away as he attempted to help you from the boat.

“Please, y’n,” he muttered, trying to to meet your eye, but relented when you pushed by him, icy anger in your veins. 

As you began the ride back to Winchester you were solemn. You had barely spoken a word to anyone and Finan regarded you with worry across his features.

“You could have told her,” Finan swiped at Sihtric, “Of all of us, you could have told her.”

“How could I?” Sihtric sighed, running a tired hand across his face.

“You didn’t see the way the men treated her for allowing you to escape.” 

Sihtric froze, eyes wild, urging Finan to continue.

“They called her whore Sihtric. Your whore. They thought she had betrayed Uhted and she thought she had too. She barely ate or slept, and now you turn up and all is forgiven, But she has endured the brunt of yours and Uhtred’s decisions.” 

Sihtric watched you ride wearily, he could see the defeat in the way you held yourself and he wanted nothing more than to take back all the hurt he had caused you, but he startled at the thought that you might not let him.

In Winchester you all settled in the alehouse, the lodgings above adequate enough for the rest you needed, You barely picked at the stew you were given and Finan took the spot beside you.

“Lady,” he sighed “You need to eat, come on, even just a few spoonfuls more.”

You shook your head and he grabbed the spoon, diving it into the food and bringing it up towards your mouth “Come ooon,” he urged “Look how delicious this is, open up that pretty mouth of yours and take a bite.” You couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped your lips when he all but shoved the spoon into your mouth and he quickly chased it with another.

“Finan, you are feeding me like a mother feeds a babe,” you giggled, the first time he had heard that sound in weeks.

“Well be and good babe, and take another bite, and I will stop mothering you.” 

You swiped your spoon back and finished off the rest of your bowl.

“Happy, mother hen?” you teased and he wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“Happy,” he conceded.

“Finan,” you sighed and he hummed and you scooted up in your seat to rest your body against his, taking the hint he wrapped his arms around you, placing his chin on your head, pulling you closer.

“You were the only one who stood by me. You stopped me from falling apart.” 

“Nothing you haven’t done for me a thousand times over, love.” he all but whispered into your hair. 

Someone clearing their throat pulled your attention away from Finan’s warmth and you were shocked to see a rather meek looking Sihtric standing at the table, a bunch of flowers in hand.

“Can I talk with you lady? Please?” he begged.

Finan gave you a reassuring tap and slid away from you.

“Outside?” he begged again.

And even though you didn’t want to, your feet were moving of their own accord.

You walked a little in silence together and eventually you realised you were going to have to make the first move. 

“Sihtric, can you please just say whatever it is you wish to say to me, I am cold and I am tired.”

It was like he was burned into action, shrinking off his cloak and wrapping it around your shoulders before you could protest, and he all but pressed the flowers into your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered gently “I am sorry for leaving you. For allowing all the blame to be placed upon your shoulders and I am sorry for demanding you choose between Uhtred and I.” 

“Why did you do it?” you pleaded and he wanted to drop to his knees before you.

“I hoped..I hoped you would choose me. I would have confessed it all to you if you had come. But I understand why you could not.” 

“They called me your whore Sihtric,” you cried, unable to stop the tears welling in your eyes, “And now you press these flowers into my hand and you say you are sorry but I have come to realise that maybe..maybe my regard for you is stronger than yours for me and I am no longer willing to be Sihtric’s whore.” 

The name was especially unfair, when you considered you had never so much as pressed your lips to Sihtric’s, let alone lay with him. 

“You are no whore,” Sihtric spat, sinking to his knees in front of you, “But I am a fool, that is true. A coward who should have told you long before this day that you are the light of my life. Ever since the day we met I have loved you and if you think I do not regard you in the highest form possible, you are wrong.”

You bit at your lip, allowing the tears to fall freely now.

“I have asked for Uhtred’s permission, and now I ask for yours, forget the name Sihtric’s whore and become Sihtric’s wife. Let me never leave you in doubt of my devotion to you again. Let me worship you. Let me be loyal to you. Let me fight for you. Let me love you.” 

He moved closer to you on his knees, grasping your hips in his hands resting his head against your stomach “Let us raise pups who look like me but have all the best of you. Let me love you.” he repeated “Be my wife.” 

“You hurt me, Sihtric.” you all but whimpered, but already your free hand was tracing the scar across his face tenderly all resolve melting.

“I hurt you this once my love and I will never, ever hurt you again. On Thor’s hammer,” he grasped at the pendant he wore around his neck and his two mismatched eyes bore up into your own.

“Be my wife.” he pleaded again.

“Sihtric’s wife,” you repeated and you were nodding furiously “Yes, yes Sihtric I will be your wife.”

He rose up furiously to crush his lips against yours, pulling you off your feet as he swung you around, the flowers falling from your grasp as you laughed through the tears.

“You are really mine?” you cried cupping his grinning face in your hands.

“From the moment I met you, I have been yours.” 

Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @canyonmoon-2

[libertyybellls]

EYE CANDY !

pairing; finnick odair x f!victor!reader

summary; finnick odair is charming, finnick odair is strong, finnick odair is so easy to see through.

contains; slight mention of underage drinking, uhhhh a glimpse into forced prostitution if u squint, fluff.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you’d survived 21 days in the wilderness, fighting for your life, only to return to the capital and refuse to where, what you called; “extravagant pony get-ups.” it was either you’d dress yourself or you simply wouldn’t attempt your own crowning.

your responses in your interviews were bold, carefully played. unique and engaging enough to be sought after but tamed enough to still appease the capitol citizens.

finnick had heard what people had said about you, some had said you were too disorderly and rowdy- others thought you were careless and young enough to bring a new sense of purpose.

finnick however, could care less about what others thought, the minute he’d seen your interviews- he needed to meet you, to see this whole charade for himself.

it was at a capitol party, your mentor in your games had left your side and finnick was ready to sink his teeth in. you bumped into his shoulder- turning around abruptly.

his smile, his perfect hair- you knew he thought he could make you faint by one look, you however, saw this as a challenge. taking it a upon yourself to stick your hand out in introduction; “y/n l/n, and you are?”

finnick laughed, bringing your hand up to his lips, “finnick odair. i’ve seen your recklessness in the capitol- and i adore it.”

now he was really trying to woo you, you let out a genuine laugh at his antics. “that’s cute, finnegan. sadly, i have a party to get back to!” you continued to laugh out as your body slid past his, his jaw was slack, his head was hanging low.

this was clearly not what he had intended to happen.

you two would run into eachother plenty of times sense then, seeing as you were both eye-candy to the capitol. each time your assaults on his ego would lessen until you were able to have decent conversations.

you were unlike anyone or anything he’d ever seen before, you looked so sweet yet your stare was deadly, your voice was soft but your words laced with venom.

he’d learned very quickly that your mind was only stuck on surviving, on getting out. but he was there for you.

he’d been there for you when you’d been too wasted on whatever you’d drunk at the capitol for your own good. he’d been there for you when your strong facade had broken, been there for you on the highs and lows.

he admired your fashion, it was so different from what he’d seen those in the capitol wear, but also had that unique pop of color or grande effects.

he’d seen every district before, spent many night with women and men of the capitol yet he’d never seen someone who was born into such a grey atmosphere embrace color so openly at the same time.

he’d definelty watch you do your makeup in the morning, making little comments “how did you do that?” and “how are you going so close to your eyeball?”

-

[lackadaisycats]

I tried to answer this succinctly, but it turned into an essay. (Sorry.)

The Princess and the Frog was not accurate, strictly speaking, but dinging it for that would be like criticizing the Lion King for not being a realistic wildlife documentary. Accuracy wasn't really the point. Given the fantastical elements and fictional nations like “Maldonia”, I suppose we're meant to understand this as a bit removed from the real New Orleans. It's more a a jazz-flavored fairy tale than a historical fiction.

But for discussion's sake....

Is it fashion-accurate to its 1926 timeframe? Ehhh, sort of. It pays homage to 20s fashion trends with cloche hats, furs and feathery headpieces, but without fully committing to it. The waistline on almost all of Tiana's clothing is too high for the 20s, and the the shapes of her fancier costumes take a lot of liberties, or deviate wildly from the style of the period.

In the 20s, dresses (including workaday stuff) tended to have a straight up-and-down shape to it - kind of a low-waisted rectangle that de-emphasized curves instead of highlighting them. There are valid reasons to play fast and loose with that, though (something I’m definitely guilty of as well). One of those reasons is communication. 

For instance, speculatively, the filmmakers wrote Tiana as a hard-working waitress and wanted her to look the part, so they made the choice to clothe her in something familiar - that gingham dress of mid-century shape that we broadly associate with diner waitresses. Actual waitress uniforms of the 20s had a fair bit of overlap with maid uniforms at the time too, and I can see why they wouldn't want to risk the confusion. It's more important to communicate clearly with the larger audience than to appease a small faction of fashion nerds who'd notice or care about the precision.

I don't think it's a case of the designers failing to do their research - I'm sure they had piles of references, and maybe even consultants - but they also had to have priorities.

With her hat and coat on, she looks a lot more 1920s-shaped.

Pretty consistently, the indication of the characteristic 1920s drop waist is there, but the approach otherwise ignores the 20s silhouette. The clothes hug the body too much. This may be about appealing to a 2000s audience, visually speaking, but also could be an animation thing. Maybe both. For practical reasons, clothes in 2d animation are usually more a sort of second skin than something that wears or behaves like realistic fabric.

These are not in the 1920s ballpark at all. Tiana's blue gown looks like your basic Disney brand invention. Strapless things would have been extremely unusual and the overall shape is far out of step. Excusable, I guess, because it's a costume in context. Charlotte looks like she’s heading for a mimosa brunch in a modern maxi dress.

Charlotte's princess dress did seem to be calling back to the ultra-wide pannier side hoops of the 18th century - something that made a reappearance for part of the 20s, albeit in much milder form called robe de style. I'm not sure if the filmmakers were alluding to that at all, really, but either way, her dress is hilarious.

They only went about halfway with the cloche hats. The 1920s cloche really encapsulated the cranium, almost entirely covered bobbed hair, and obscured much of the face from certain angles, so it's easy to see why they've been somewhat reined in for the film. Still, it ends up looking more 1930s, where the hats started to recede away from the face, evolving in the direction of the pillbox.

Similarly, Tiana's hair is not very reminiscent of the bobbed, close-to-the-cranium style of the period, but I think that could legitimately be written off as characterization. She's not at all the type of person who'd fuss about going à la mode. Not everyone bobbed and finger-waved their hair.

The clothes Prince Naveen is introduced in are very 1920s collegiate in spirit - the wide-leg oxford bags, the sleeveless pullover sweater, the flat cap, and high, stiff collar. The ukulele and banjolele were pretty trendy instruments at the time too.

Definitely some Josephine Baker vibes here. Also, the look of this whole fantasy sequence was reportedly inspired by the works of Aaron Douglas, a luminary painter of the Harlem Renaissance known for his depictions of the lives of African-Americans. (The mural is in Topeka, Kansas.)

They pretty much nailed the Art Deco. It's gorgeous. Looks somewhat inspired by the interiors of some of the Ralph Walker-designed NYC architecture, plus some French Quarter balcony flair for the final manifestation of Tiana's Place. Her dress here does resemble some gauzy mid-1920s looks, too.

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

Culturally speaking...

New Orleans is an unusual place. Because some of the colonial Spanish and French laws and conventions that New Orleans evolved under persisted even after its inception into the United States; because it was such a heterogeneous hub of indigenous and immigrant peoples; and because it had a considerable population of free people of color (mostly Creole), it did not function quite like the rest of the South leading up to the Civil War, nor for a while after. Its particular coalescence of cultures made it its own unique sort of culture within the country, within the region, within the state of Louisiana even. By the early 20th century, though, regardless of the not-very-binary nature of New Orleans, Jim Crow laws were enforcing a literal black-and-white distinction, and not an evenhanded one, by far. In that aspect, the city had begun to resemble the rest of the South.

The film nods at the wealth disparity, but goes on to paint a pretty rosy picture of race and class relations at the time. Still it's not unbelievable that some people were exceptions to the rules. You could probably find a few compartments of old New Orleans society that resisted segregation or certain prejudicial norms, preferring to do things their own way. That aside, the film wasn't trying to confront these topics. Not every piece of media should have to. Sometimes breaking away from miserable period piece stereotypes is refreshing. I'm not sure it could have handled that meaningfully given the running time, narrow story focus, and intended audience, anyhow. (But you could perhaps also make a case that family films habitually underestimate younger audiences in this way.)

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

Raymond the firefly I guess is the film's Cajun representation. There's not much to say about it, except perhaps to note that Evangeline is a reference to the heroine of a Longfellow poem of the same name. The poem is an epic romance set during the expulsion of the Acadians from the eastern provinces of Canada and the northernmost reaches of the American colonies (now Maine) by the British in the mid-1700s. Many exiled Acadians gradually migrated south to francophone-friendly Louisiana, settling into the prairies and bayous, where 'Acadian' truncated into the pronunciation 'Cajun'. Evangeline - who is only finally reunited with her love when he’s on his deathbed - has become an emblem of the heartbreak, separation and faithful hope of that cultural history, and there are parishes, statues and other landmarks named after the her throughout Louisiana.

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

Voodoo does have a very historical presence in New Orleans, having arrived both directly from West Africa and by way of the Haitian diaspora (where it would more properly be called Vodou). While I don't think Disney's treatment of it was especially sensitive or serious, it also wasn't the grotesquely off-base sort of thing that media of the past has been known to do. It was largely whittled down to a magical plot component, but it wasn't so fully repurposed that it didn't resemble Voodoo at all either - and that's mostly owing to the characters, because it does appear the writers pulled from history there.

It’s apparently widely held that Dr. Facilier is a Baron Samedi caricature - and likely that's true, in part - but I have the impression he's also influenced by Doctor John. Not the 20th century funk musician, but the antebellum “Voodoo King” of New Orleans. Doctor John (also called Bayou John, Jean La Ficelle, and other aliases) claimed to be a Senegalese prince. He became well known as a potion man and romance-focused prognosticator to people from all corners of society. Though highly celebrated and financially successful at his peak, he seems ultimately remembered as an exploitative villain.

To my recollection, the film sort of gingerly avoids referring to Facilier as a Voodoo practitioner directly (I think he's more generically called a witch doctor in the script?) but it does seem to imply his 'friends on the other side' are a consortium of loa. It's mostly abbreviated into nebulously evil-seeming special FX, glazing over any specificity or dimensionality, but it does also loop back around as a vehicle of moral justice. Loa are all very individualistic and multi-faceted, but they do have reciprocal rules for asking favors of them.

There's also the benevolent counterpart in Mama Odie's character. Her wearing ritual whites has a definite basis in Voodoo/Vodou practice, and her depiction as a fairy godmother-like figure isn't entirely out of step with how a mambo may have been perceived...in a very general sense. They were/are ceremonial leaders and community bastions who people would seek out for help, advice and spiritual guidance. More than just emanating matronly good vibes, though, some have wielded considerable political and economic power.

(Just my opinions here. I've done a lot of reading on the subject for research but I'm no authority with any special insider understanding of Voodoo, and I really shouldn't be relied upon as an arbiter of who has or hasn't done it justice in fiction.)

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

In summary--

Culturally, I think the film is respectably informed but paints a superficially genteel picture. The set pieces are gorgeous, but the story mostly delivers a sort of veneer of New Orleanishness. And as for fashion, well, it’s the 1920s run through a Disney filter. It’s very pretty, but it’s only as proximally accurate as seemed practical.

I don’t know that any of that really matters so much as whether or not it achieved what it intended, though. As a charming yarn and as a tribute to New Orleans and the Jazz age, I think it’s mostly successful. It’s also really beautifully animated!

[starsxblazing]

Die Of A Broken Heart

Ask and you shall receive. Here is some pure heartbreaking angst to feed us masochists.

Summary: Azriel goes on a mission that should have been simple only for it to end in one of the worst ways possible.

Azriel x Reader

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? You just got back last night and you’re exhausted.”

You watched your husband as he continued to get ready for his mission. It wasn’t really a mission at all unless one thought of the Hewn City that way. There were many that would call it such but to each their own. Azriel stopped his task of lacing his buckles together to give you a smile but when that didn’t seem to satisfy you, he pulled you into his arms in a tight embrace. 

“As soon as Cassian and I return, you will have me all to yourself,” he assured gently, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Try not to worry so much, love.”

You both admired and hated his work ethic. He was so loving, loyal, and devoted that he spread himself so thin but he was slowly making progress. Very, very slow progress but progress, nonetheless. The two of you had only been married for a few decades and it was as blissful as it could possibly be.

There had been an internal war within you when he had first started courting you. It was no secret that he wanted a mate, that all of the males wanted a mate. You had been hesitant in giving your heart to him because you knew that he had someone wonderful out there that the Mother had made just for him. 

What you hadn’t expected was a one sided mating bond. You had known since the night of your wedding but hadn’t been able to bring yourself to tell him. Azriel was always so loving and devoted to you that you didn’t have to question him. He assured you more times than you could count that even if his mate did miraculously appear, that he would still choose you. Since you knew that he was your mate, all of those worries had left your mind.

“But you still have to train your new spy for Spring Court,” you huffed, earning a quiet chuckle from him as he continued preparing.

“I have already told Rhys that it will have to wait.” He shot you a playful grin. “You are my priority. The female will still be there in another two weeks.”

“You, the amazing spymaster, are going to take an entire two weeks off?” you asked skeptically. “You are going to go insane with that much time off of work.”

“Actually,” he began, his voice dropping into that delicious seductiveness while he pushed you back into the wall. “I had every intention of keeping myself occupied in much more pleasurable ways.”

The hard length of him pressed into you, earning him a playful giggle. He simply pulled you into a deep kiss that left you both breathless only to do it again before he finally left with one last ‘I love you.’ You always hated to watch him go but knowing that he would be back later that night made it better. It also helped that you had a day planned with Nesta at the bookstore. 

“Did Cassian let anything slip about what they’re supposed to be doing?” you asked the female as you walked down the street.

“He was able to withstand my questioning, surprisingly,” Nesta huffed. “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“Probably not,” you agreed.

You simply followed your friend throughout the stores, grabbing a few items for yourself before making your way to a nearby cafe. Nesta was relentless in getting you back into training so to appease her, you agreed. It was mostly because you missed the three females that you had made friends with but also because it would keep your mind busy once Azriel left again to train his new spy.

It was hours past time when your husband had promised that he would be home and it had you pacing a hole in the floor of your sitting room. This was the absolute worst part of being committed to someone with such an important job. Each time he was away from you, you prayed for his safety. That was exactly why you fell into a panicked frenzy when Rhys entered your mind to let you know that you were needed at Madja’s.

“What happened?” you demanded breathlessly, bursting into one of the healing rooms only to see a grumbling Azriel sitting up in the bed and holding his head.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” Cassian waved it off dismissively despite the serious worry in his eyes. “He just took a hit to the head.”

“The culprit will have a fitting punishment,” Rhys assured when you went to open your mouth. “Take him home and watch over him.”

And so you did. It didn’t help that your husband was grumpier than usual, fussing and ensuring you that he could take care of himself. You weren’t convinced due to his slight stumble and how he continued to hold his bandage wrapped head. He all but fell face first into the bed and there was no way that you could leave him alone.

You awoke the next morning only to find Azriel’s side of the bed cold. It caused a deep frown to form on your face because he should be there. He was injured on top of promising to stay home. The very least that you had expected was for him to still be cuddled up to you since the sun could barely be seen in the sky. Even after searching the entire house, he was nowhere to be seen and not even his scent lingered in the air. 

In a sigh of defeat, you made your way to the House of Wind in hopes to find some answers. It was also empty up until you made it up to the training ring. Cassian, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn were already there and beginning their warmups for the session.

“Finally come back to join us?” Cassian asked in a teasing voice but his eyes were wary.

“I was actually hoping to find my husband.” You almost tripped over the last word, almost revealing the secret that nobody else knew. “He promised that he would be home for the next two weeks.”

“He said something came up and training that new female was extremely important.” 

You eyed Cassian skeptically, noting that the general appeared uneasy with the topic of conversation. Something wasn’t right and your hand instinctively rubbed against your heart as if the bond was trying to tell you something. It was always there, always lingering and glowing brightly within you but it was dim today. Nesta, who seemed extremely in tune with you, pulled you into the ring with them, insisting that training would help but that dim light wouldn’t change your worry. There was something wrong if the strange new tug was any indication of it.

With nothing better to do, you relented and after warmups, you had a sword in hand. All three females had been training hard and it was a task to keep up with the high spirited Gwyn. You had always loved the priestess and the upbeat, determined energy that always buzzed around her.

You felt it just as soon as you blocked Gwyn’s attack. There was pain that tugged at your heart that caused you to stumble, earning a nice cut on your arm as you hit your knees. You were certain that a scream of pain, one that didn’t come from the new physical injury, left you but you were unaware of anything but the pain in your chest. It was sharp, as if a thousand daggers were piercing you all at once. 

A blinding heat then enveloped that same pain that had your head swimming. The bond that was there slowly dimmed further and you could almost see it. You could almost see the cord rip and shred, the feeling going straight into your chest. The burning paired with the sharpness continued until you could feel it through every fibre of your being where it settled into your very soul. It raged with an intensity that you knew had never been experienced by the world before.

Your heart stopped just as the last pieces of the bond shredded and broke before the blissful darkness took you.

Even in unconsciousness the pain didn’t stop. It felt like being tied to a spit and being turned over an open, blazing fire. The extreme heat didn’t stop and even after your mind began to clear, you were unable to open your eyes. It felt like you were dying from the inside out but muffled voices hit your ears, thankfully giving you something else to focus on.

“So you are telling me that your new spy is your mate?”

Rhys. That voice that was unmistakable and laced with frustration.

“It just happened, Rhys.”

Your husband. The one that was your mate that somehow had another mate. You searched inside of you and all that was left of the one sided bond were shredding sharp threads blowing in an openness of an unfamiliar void. Your mind couldn’t wrap around what was happening. You couldn’t understand.

“What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know.”

Those three whispered words felt like another knife to the heart, continuing to slice into your already shredded soul.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You have a wife that loves you! A wife that you have been happily in love with for decades!”

The quiet words of the High Lord were nearly a growl, obviously angry with his spymaster.

“She’s my mate, Rhys!” 

Your husband was attempting to defend himself as if the mating bond had finally taken over him completely.

“You just met this female. She is supposed to be your apprentice. Your student. Nothing more.”

Azriel truly had left you, while he was injured, only to find his mate. You wanted to cry but the pain, the heat, kept you from doing anything. 

“Well that’s not what happened.” 

“What is more, your wife fell in training and has been unconscious for days while in a pain that none of us can figure out while you have refused to come back because you have been with your mate!”

It was all that you needed to hear. Your worst fears that had been present before the bond had happened. He had been spending time with his mate all while you had been unconscious and in immense pain and hadn’t bothered to answer his High Lord’s attempts to reach him. You must have finally been able to move because you heard quick footsteps just before a familiar set of hands were wrapped around yours.

“Y/n.” Azriel’s pleading voice barely registered in your mind. “Please look at me.”

It felt wrong to do so but you did. You loved him with all that you were and it was now your downfall. There was such worry on his face and his eyes went wide at whatever he found or didn’t find on your face. Even through the blazing haze, you barely registered the deep concern and made you wondered why he cared all of a sudden.

“Are you alright?” It was Rhysand’s voice this time as he pushed the shadowsinger away from you. “How can I help?”

“I’ll be fine,” you rasped, your throat raw as if you had been screaming.

“You have been screaming,” Rhys confirmed in a gentle but quiet voice. “Let me help you.”

A growl came from behind you but you focused on those violet eyes that made you feel just the tiniest bit better.

“I just need my bed and some time.”

He nodded, seemingly determined to give you whatever you wanted.

It took two weeks for you to pull yourself together enough to present yourself somewhat normally. Azriel had stayed with you for a week before leaving for his next mission, leaving you at the House with Nesta and Cassian. You knew that it wasn’t a mission. They didn’t know that you had overheard the conversation and knew that your husband had a mate that wasn’t you. 

By the time that the third week had passed, Azriel came into your room and watched you cautiously. It had taken you that long since the bond broke to act like your normal self but the pain, the burning of your soul never stopped. The broken threads cut into you over and over with no way to stop it. You were sure that you were going mad and you only allowed yourself to succumb to it whenever you knew that you would be alone for a while.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He sat on the edge of the bed but didn’t move closer. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” you asked as casually as you could even though a piece of you knew what was coming.

“I found my mate,” he whispered.

“Oh.”

This time it came out as a broken whisper, your fear only fueling the flame inside of you. Your heart picked up a rapid pace in your chest and you were sure that it was going to explode if it didn’t stop.

“I need-” He swallowed hard, his eyes lining with tears. “I need to at least get to know her.”

“You promised me, Azriel,” you croaked. “Please.”

“Just give me three weeks, y/n. Please.”

“Az…” Your voice trailed off and you realized that there was no point in arguing. “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Despite his voice sounding thick and desperate, he simply brushed a light kiss against your lips. Your heart continued to race in panic and that pain raged blindingly until it was dark once again.

Azriel felt horrible for leaving you because he had promised you for decades that he would never leave you. He promised that he would love you and only you for the rest of eternity and even though that would always be true, he had to be sure. No sooner than he was in the sky after leaping off of the balcony on the House of Wind, a pair of hands were around him and he was suddenly in his dungeon.

“What the hell, Rhysand?” he growled, frustrated and annoyed and Cassian and the two fae in the chairs barely caught his eye.

“I came back here with Cassian to continue the work that you should have done after being attacked and learned a great deal of information.”

“Like what?” he snapped, his feet shifting while he debated on winnowing away.

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” the High Lord growled. “As it turns out, that blast of power that sent you flying into the wall and causing your concussion cursed you.”

That caused him a pause and he eyed the two males that he had met with.

“Your ‘mating bond’ is fake.”

“But-”

“Tell him,” Rhysand ordered the males, refusing to let him speak.

“The female- your wife- is your mate,” one bit out. “You are holding us back in this horrid place so we cursed you to be chained to another female so that you would move courts.”

Because he would. If his mate didn’t want to live in Night Court, he would follow her. He looked between his brothers who didn’t appear to have the first bit of sympathy for him. Rhysand obviously knew that he had just left you for his mate and didn’t care about his wishes any longer.

In his desperation to get back to you, to right his wrong and beg for your forgiveness, he began his methods. It didn’t take much to get them to break and the curse cured. In an instant, he no longer felt that fake mating bond but when he looked to his High Lord, he was pale and frozen in place.

“Let’s go.”

Rhysand grabbed both him and Cassian, winnowing them back into the House. They sprinted towards your room only to find Madja hovering over you, her face pale and grave when she looked at them.

“What’s happening?” he asked in a panic, running to your side and pulling your freezing cold hand into his.

“She’s dying.” Madja’s voice was just as grave as her face. “Her body is shutting down.”

“Y/n!” Azriel yelled, shaking you as much as he dared to try to get you to open your eyes.

Madja’s hand was over your heart, looking as if she was focusing extra hard on it.

“Her heart is beating too fast,” the female murmured. “I have no way to slow it.”

Panic overtook him entirely and he continued to shake you in desperation. Your lips had turned blue and there was no color to your face even though your chest rose and fell in an unhealthy rhythm. Finally, finally, you opened your eyes. There was no life there and the quick flicker of recognition was all that it took. A dim light simmered within him, a light wrapped around a simple thread that should have been tied to you. 

He followed it to the end only to find an endless void. That quick flicker of remembering him only lasted a second before your eyes closed again. 

Just as you closed your eyes and your chest came to a stop, the thin thread within him shredded apart.

He thought he heard himself scream, a scream of desperation and pain, as he felt like he had been set on fire. It was a heat that far surpassed the flames that had ruined the hands that you loved so much and he didn’t know if he could handle it. His wife, his mate, his true mate was gone and left shattered threads blowing in a new void in its wake. He couldn’t breathe as it felt like his heart was being shredded into pieces and it picked up its pace in his chest. It felt like he was about to implode.

And as the darkness pulled him closer, he realized what had been your fate and what would now be his. He realized what it was like to die of a broken heart.

Tag List:

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain @nighttimemoonlover

[thirstywoso]

Modern Loneliness - Jessie Fleming (18+)

A/N: just a quick random one to keep people appeased - as per usual it was a rushed job whilst I work on some other stuff :)

W/C: 2.1K

Synopsis: Jessie and yourself find a way to relieve the tensions of a long distance relationship

Warnings: smut mdni 18+, descriptions of sex, breeding link, praise kink, masturbation

You were used to Jessie being away for long periods at a time, that's the way it had always been.

You'd met her one night at a bar after she had won the super league for the first time with Chelsea, you didn't have any interest in soccer and didn't even know who she was. That didn't stop the high of the win and the buzz of the drink in her veins from chatting you up, in fact being oblivious to who she was only made her want you more and you, you loved a girl who was a mystery.

You'd worked in the small exclusive bar that Jessie and her teammates had partied in all night for quite some time, so you were fairly used to having customers flirting over the bar. However, something you weren't as used to was them stood by the back door at 2am after you'd finished locking up for the night.

Looking for someone to help end her night on a high and you deciding a famous soccer player being added to your "bedded" list would be a cool story to tell at parties was what led you to wake up naked the next day in her bed, a mixture of clothes scattered around the room.

What was supposed to be a one night stand turned in to two nights, then three and then four. Before you knew it you and Jessie had moved in together and were celebrating three years together, of course it came with the ups and downs. One of those being her endless away day trips or National camps, you'd coped though, you both did. That was until Jessie had moved to Portland and you were finally thriving in you career that had taken off a year after dating the brunette.

Although you'd managed to get a job in Portland with the same firm, your life in London wasn't quite wrapped up and the Portland office wasn't ready for you just yet. This meant you'd been apart from Jessie for two months, the longest you'd ever gone without curling into her side or kissing her cute little freckled nose.

It also meant you were very frustrated... sexually. That's what led you to tonight, you were kind of tired but it was a Friday night, you'd finished work for the week, Jessie had not long been home from training and she had just finished an early dinner.

You were already in bed as it was one in the morning but as you doom scrolled your frown quickly turned upside down as you saw the picture of Jessie flash up on screen.

"Hey baby" you answer as her sweet little face came into view.

"Hey beautiful!" She says excitedly blowing you a kiss.

You talked about your days and before long you were fidgeting from how restless you were. Jessie being as observant as she is soon noticed this.

"What's wrong baby?" She asked with a hint of concern in her voice, of course you tried to brush her off but she was persistent.

"I just miss you Jess" you whine, looking at the camera pointedly.

"Is that so..." she smirks her voice lowering.

"So bad, my own hands are nothing compared to yours" you say with a sigh.

Suddenly Jessie disappears and you find yourself staring at her ceiling before you hear her scramble for her phone and she comes back into view, only this time she is shirtless.

"Take your top off baby" she says with confidence "let me see those pretty tits" she smiles at you as if butter wouldn't melt.

"Oh" is all you manage to squeak out, seeing Jessie's bare skin even through the phone screen sent a rush of arousal to your centre.

You remove your shirt quickly before appearing back on the screen, an audible gasp coming from the other side of the phone.

"I may not be there to touch you, to fuck you or to make your legs shake as you come apart on my fingers..." she says matter of fact "...but... I can still tell you exactly how I'd touch you if I was there" she smirks

"And I expect you to follow my instructions" she bites her lip looking at you, judging by the movement on the other side of the screen you know exactly where Jessie's free hand has just gone. All you can do is just nod in response.

"Firstly I want you to slide your hand into those sleep shorts I know that you are wearing" she says with a slight laugh. You do as you're told, even though she wasn't there physically, you knew better than to disobey those orders of hers.

Your hand snaked it's way down your toned abdomen and under the waistband of your shorts, tilting the phone down you show Jessie where your hand was now resting on your pelvic bone.

"Good girl" she mutters "Now be even better for me and put those fingers to good use, circle that pretty little clit baby girl" wasting no time the pads of your fingers start by gently swiping across your bundle of nerves and then back again.

Within minutes you're picking up a rhythm in which your fingers switch from gentle circling to a more desperate rub. You look back at your phone screen checking that your brown eyed girl could see exactly what you were doing, her lip tucked between her teeth didn't go unnoticed by you and the gentle shifting of her bicep gave you a clue to exactly how she felt about watching you.

"Oh you look so pretty when you touch yourself" she praises you as you wiggle out of your shorts. "Fuckkk" she groans out seeing your naked form now filling her screen. "Think you can dip those fingers inside for me?" She asks.

You continue to tease and rub your clit, a slight moan or whimper accidentally falling from your lips from time to time. "Don't hold back, let me hear you" she almost whispers in awe as she stares at the screen her own hand rocking back and forth across her heat now also visible on the screen.

You let out a loud guttural moan dignity be damned as two of your fingers slide into your entrance bottoming out at the knuckle and curling into your soft spot. A little more than she had asked for but you couldn't resist the hug of your fingers from your tight walls.

After opening your eyes that you hadn't realised you squeezed shut you tilted the phone back up to look at Jessie, her lip still tucked between her teeth as faint noises of satisfaction filtered through the phone, as you strained to hear them you realised the noise that was drowning out her slight whimpers was the sounds of her fingers curling in and out of her dripping pussy.

"Fuck Jessie, you sound so wet baby" you moan, eyes rolling back as your fingers now copy the speed and motion that Jessie has now showed you her fingers are doing. "All for you" she sighs curling her fingers deeper, the squelch proving just how much she was dripping for you.

"I've missed you so much, I can't wait until I'm there with you" you say swallowing your sadness and instead focus on the task at hand.

"Between your legs, the pad of my thumb circling your clit, two digits on my free hand stroking along your entrance... before pushing into you nice and deep" you pause taking a deep breath.

"You panting as I curl my thick long fingers against your weak spot over and over, hitting nice and deep Jess" she groans and whimpers at your words her fingers speeding up on herself. You can't help but bite your lip as you reach for the toy in your dresser, urging Jessie to do the same. Both back on the bed with your toys begging at your entrance you both talk each other through taking such big toys.

As you stretch around the plastic and watch Jessie do the same you continue talking to her "My lips suckling down on your throbbing clit as I add my third finger, your arousal dripping down my hand and wrist as I hit a delicious angle"

A moan rips from Jessie's throat as you continue, your words dripping with lust "funny Jessie, you told me you'd instruct me but look who is here weak for my words" you let out a sarcastic laugh.

"What can I say, you're so fucking hot" it comes out all breathy and you groan, grinding your hips against the palm of your hand for extra relief.

"As soon as I pull my fingers out I'll replace them with my tongue, lapping at your entrance before fucking you with it, curling deeper and deeper inside of you. Tasting every fucking inch of you whilst you suck my fingers clean" she cries out as brings herself to the edge, just as you think she's about to cum she pulls her toy out and the screen flashes up to her face where she begins sucking on the silicone that only moments ago had been deep inside her.

"Fuck Jessie, I want to taste you so bad" you pant as you slow down to keep your orgasm as bay.

"Not long now, I'll be back in London in two weeks for a friendly" she says removing the toy from her mouth with a pop.

"Not soon enough" you gasp out as you begin circling your clit again.

"I can't wait to be so full of you" she sighs somewhat sadly, to give her thought emphasis she shoved the phallic object in her hand inside her to the hilt again her toes curling.

You copy her actions before fumbling with the base of your toy flicking it to life as you find the right button. The slow vibration of the toy inside you causing you to squeeze your thighs together your walls fluttering as you stretch yourself once again.

"I can't wait to fill you, you will take my cock so well won't you princess? You look so pretty as you stretch yourself around me. Your mouth agape as I pound you closer to an earth shattering orgasm. I want you to feel so full of me and know that I am all yours" you groan almost dropping the phone as you turn up the vibration.

"I want your babies y/n" she says before her eyes shoot open realising what she said as your hand stills momentarily before speeding up. "Oh Jess, that's so fucking hot" you can see the relief wash across her features as she fucks herself harder.

"You want me to fill you baby? You want me to fuck you nice and good? Stretch out that pretty pussy? Watch you take every inch of my cock before I unload in you? Filling you with my babies?" You're so turned on you can't even stop yourself from letting it all out.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" She chants. "I want to watch you swell with my babies. You'd be such a good mumma" you pause "look how wet you're getting, you really are a slutty girl aren't you Jessie" you giggle.

"So wet, I want it bad baby, I know it's not possible, but when I'm back in London I want you to try, try and knock me up"

"There's no harm in trying, I won't stop until you're filled with mini Flemings" you gasp as you flick up to the highest vibration, as you sit up straddling the pillow from Jessie's side of the bed, helping the toy angle up inside you.

It's been so long since you remembered being stretched in such a way, the way you rocked back and forth driving it deeper inside you. Your eyes screwed shut and your lip tucked between your teeth.

You ride the pillow imaging it's Jessie, you watch as she copies you. Both of your hips stuttering back and forth across your pillows as your toys hit the spot you needed each other most. You begin to bounce lightly with ever roll of the hips, the toy hitting you so deep. "You feel how deep that toy is?" You ask Jessie as she nods.

"That's how deep I'll cum inside you" a shriek rips through the phone, you're not sure which one of you it came from as you both fall forwards onto the bed as you orgasms wash over you. You have no energy to lift the phone but neither does Jessie.

The sounds of you both panting is the only noise to fill the air. "Well, that was better than doing it solo" you say with a laugh.

Jessie let's out a sound of approval, too spent to string an actual sentence together.

[persefolli]

about the tonowari x reader x ronal thing:

their wife/spouse is someone who doesn't really have a big role like them, like a fisherman or a farmer, and just gets giddy when they or the kids want to help/join her.

bonus if the Sully's meet her and is like, "so... what are you?" and her family gets low-key offended and pissed, lol.

just a thought

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐑𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap, @ms5m1th, @18lkpeters, @yukichan67, @laylasbunbunny, @jakesullyscocksleeve, @neteyamyawne, @fanboyluvr, @myheartfollower, @letsloveimagines, @xylianasblog, @papichulo120627

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐟 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭!

“Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice in the distance. You looked up from the field and saw Tsireya running over, holding her satchel.

“Hello Reya. What brings you to this side of the reef?” 

She groans and sets her bag near your mauri pod, “Mother said you haven’t met the Sully’s yet and it's been two weeks.”

“Ah..I mean-”

“She wants you to come to dinner.”

You smiled and tilted your head. Reya shared the same expression. The both of you knew when Ronal “wanted” something, there was no choice, no way out. You weren’t getting out of this dinner.  

“I decided to come and help you make a grand impression. You can make our favorite dish. That is if you have some ovumshroom growing.”

“Oh I always have some in the chamber. Go grab the hoe.” You waved Tsireya to the small makeshift pod..or shed you had specifically for farming tools.

You smiled brightly watching Tsireya get to work, picking at the ground to see if she can find any fresh ovumshroom to pick out. While she did that, you went to sprinkling fertilizer over the newest crops you planted earlier that day.

Farming always brought you a sense of joy. It was calming, especially being away from the hustle and bustle of the village. Ronal and Tonowari insisted you move to that side of the reef, just so you could be closer to the family, but you insisted on staying where you were. The sun hit this part of the reef better and the soil was much more suited for planting and curating the plants you worked with.

After a while, you retreated back into your marui pod, where Tsireya was already sitting, peeling the shroom and humming to herself.

“Make sure to save the stubs. I can-”

“Replant them. I know.” She giggled and you ruffled her hair a bit. 

You moved to clean yourself up, putting on the nice clothing Ronal and Tonowari gifted you for nights like this. Ronal would throw a fit if you walked in wearing your farming clothes, but you would do anything to appease your lover.

A knock at the entrance caused you and Tsireya to look up. It was Ao’nung.

“I’m not too late am I?”

Tsireya threw a shroom stub at him and giggled. 

“Not at all,” You said. “You might wanna start boiling some water.

The teens worked happily in your kitchen as you tidied a bit. It warmed your heart to know that kids, especially of their age still enjoyed the simplicity of farming and cooking. Tsireya opened up to you once about how it was a nice way to get away from the training and practices of being the princess.

Ao’nung was less vocal about his enjoyment, but he kept coming around so that was a plus.

The three of you worked until sunset, creating an ovumshroom stew with fish and porridge, one of your favorites.

“Now who's gonna help me carry this across the reef?” You said playfully. Tsireya walked up but was pushed back by her brother.

“Let the future Olo’eyktan handle this.”

“Hey! Dad said I still have a good chance.” Tsireya rebutted. 

“We’ll see about that.”

---

After a long walk, the three of you finally arrived at their home. Ronal had a scowl on her face, and you smiled awkwardly. “I brought food.”

“At least you didn’t come empty handed.” She huffed. 

“I came as fast as I could.” You said lowly, realizing the Sully family was already inside the pod.

Ronal went back to announce the food was ready, and the navi began pouring in. You poured the porridge into their bowls as they stood in a line, chatting and smiling brightly at the warm meal. When it was Neytiri’s turn, she held her hand up before you could fill her bowl. 

“I can pour it myself, thanks.”

“Oh there’s no need, I insist.’ You politely said, holding up the spoon.

“I rather not…have someone like you pouring my food.”

“Someone like me?”

The room fell silent at your high-pitched voice that radiated from shock. 

Ronal was standing not too far from the two of you with a nasty glare on her face. Tonowari also had a look of disapproval displayed across her face.

“In the forest we don’t have servants.”

Ronal hissed, and Tonowari stood, walking over to stand close to his wife.

“She is no servant.” Ronal said harshly.

“That's Y/n. Mom and Dad’s girlfriend.” Ao’nung said a little unphased from the situation. 

Everyone watched as Neytiri's face changed, going into shock. She fell silent, and a thick draft blew through the pod. She nervously giggled before nodding.

“Enlighten me Ms. Sully. What about Y/n made you think she was-”

“It’s fine Ronal.” You chimed in, trying to deescalate the situation. In Neytiri’s defense you were wearing less formal clothing and you were serving the food. It wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. 

“I apologize.” Neytiri said.

“It was an honest mistake.”

“Mistake my foot.” Ronal mumbled, 

Tonowari placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and nodded, giving everyone the non-verbal signal that we could all move on from the mistake. 

The pod was still quiet by the time you sat to eat, everyone, even the kids, scared to break the tension that floated in the air. You looked around to see if anyone would perk up, but everyone was either focused on their food or frowning. 

You made eye contact with Jake, and you can tell he was about to take his chance with damage control. 

“Would it be rude to ask how this came to be?” 

You smiled and chuckled. “Well Ronal initiated everything. IIf she wants something she won't stop until she has it.”

Tonowari looked over at Ronal who had a bit of a flushed expression on her face. “Well Ronal here saw Y/n dancing around the bonfire, and went to join in. This was when the kids were…Tuk’s age, maybe younger.” Tonowari started. “After that night we wanted to meet with her more, but we didn’t see her around the village. Ronal tried convincing me for weeks that she was indeed Metkayina and not from some other clan.”

“I found her playing with rakes on the other end of the reef.” Ronal said.

“I was plowing the sand, not playing with rakes.”

“Same difference.” Ronal sighed. “I saw her..thought she would make a great addition.”

“Whatever makes Ronal happy.  I told myself.” Tonowari smiled. “But… Y/n makes me happy too.”

After an eye roll from Ronal everyone in the pod laughed, dissipating the once tense room. 

Once dinner ended, and the Sully’s retired to their own pod, you stayed behind to help clean the mess that was left behind. You noticed Ronal washing the dishes intensely, so you walked over and leaned to look at her.

“Ronal.”

“That Neytiri woman. I don't like her.” She said scrubbing the dish.

“It was an honest mist-”

“I allow her to seek Uturu and she comes to my home and disrespects me, you- us!” She stammers.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to face you. “Ronal….it's fine. Listen, I'm not offended. We're from two different worlds, I've accepted I may not be treated with respect like you and Wari.”

“But you should be!” She says sternly.

“Ronal.” You placed a kiss on her cheek. “As long as I am with you two I am just fine. I don't care what people say about me, or how they treat me, because you and Wari are the only two people whose opinion matters.”

Ronal looked at you before sighing and nodding, giving in, like she always did. Tonowari walked over and smiled at the sight of you two embracing.

“And you,” Ronal turned to her husband. “You did not defend me.”

“Sweetheart you did a better job than I could’ve. And I would rather not get into women's business.”

Ronal stood quiet before nodding. “You have a point.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Royal Consort. Part 3

"Mr. Fenton! Will you be attending the Wayne Charity Gala with your husband?" A reporter demands, thrusting her mic into Danny's face.

"I-" He tries to say, but another reporter jumps in.

"Is it true Bruce Wayne is attempting to have his kids seduce your husband?"

"What?"

"Mr. Fenton, is it true that you could stop a war simply by batting your eyelashes?!"

"Hey, now that's uncalled for."

"What is the political climate in the wake of the disbanded Anti-Ecto Acts?"

Danny couldn't even tell where the questions were coming from. He tried to push through the crowd of new crews, but every step of the way, more and more people crowded him.

He should've stayed in the hotel room Mr. Wayne had rented for his family, but Danny had thought he could sneak out and explore Gotham.

After Dani had burst into the meeting room, in all her ghostly glory, the Justice League had allowed them a short recess so his parents could meet their "granddaughter."

He is still determining exactly what she told them, as he is too busy to dodge more of Batman's questions. He just hoped she could keep the ruse up in the face of his parents' smothering apologies.

His dad wrapped her up I'm his arms, sobbing the whole time while his mother was snapping pictures of Dani, crying about how much she had grown.

Thank the stars Jazz had pulled her "niece" to the side for a short conversation. When they came back, Dani had taken the princess role so well that she answered most of the Ghost Zone questions like the ambassador she was pretending to be.

Her age? Yeah, that was off cause the time zone difference in the Ghost Zone. She was only four years in human years but looked sixteen due to her half-blood and where she grew up.

The chances of war? No, her dad had appeased the war council after the United Nations called the USA on their bullshit.

Demands Phantom had? Respect the dead. Honor the rights of his people. Leave the natural portals alone, and if his subjects were causing issues call one of his to take care of it.

Did she not need an anchor? She's half-human, so she could pop between worlds at will, but only because the Ghost King allowed it.

Where had she been before Phantom took the throne? Danny was not in a stage of life to raise a child- he had only been fifteen!- so Phantom raised her in his lair. Yes, she came to visit Danny.

Did she practically say she was a child of separated parents? Yes. Did she regret it? Only when rumors about Phantom wanting to replace Danny sprung, and she had people trying to get her to introduce them to his "father."

How strong was she? Step into the ring, Wonder Woman; let's test it. (They did spar, and surprisingly, she gave Wonder Woman a run for her money, but in the end, the more experienced fighter won. The Amazonian offered to train her)

By the end of it, Danny and Dani left with stacks of possible legislation about peace among their people. They both promised to get it to Phantom.

Just as they left, Batman informed them that Bruce Wayne had invited them to the Gala. He also offered them asylum in Gotham by housing them in his family manor until the media died.

Danny had almost accepted, but Jazz had stepped in with sharp eyes and a cold smile. "Please tell Mr. Wayne we are honored by the offer, but we would prefer our own space."

Batman grunted. "Would a penthouse be predered?"

"Yes, thank you."

He loved Jazz.

His mom had whispered in Danny's ear as they were teleporting- the Justice League had teleporting technology!?- back to Earth. "Do you think the rumors about Bruce Wayne being Batman's lover are true?"

Danny had yet to pay much mind to Wes Weston's theories, but honestly, the way Batman was able just to promise things on Mr. Wayne's behalf.....well, if the Box Ghost and Lunch Lady could happen, why not a billionaire and a crime-fighting

Danny, Jazz, and Dani had been hiding in the pen house for about three days. His parents had returned home to secure their lab after the fifth time curious meddlesome reporters had tripped their house security.

Danny will admit he went stir-crazy, so using his powers, he turned invisible and went out when his sisters had been watching a show. He had made it for about five hours when someone saw him buying a coffee and tweeted his location.

His sightseeing had been cut short by the crowds of people that swarmed him.

"Mr. Fenton, what do you say about parents criticizing how early you married?"

Danny was pushed up against the wall by the crowd, wishing he could just turn ghost and drop this whole thing. He felt a burning sensation in the back of his eyes, and for one horrifying moment, he thought they were going to record him bursting into tears when a man broke through the crowd.

"That is far enough!" The man placed himself in front of Danny, shielding the eighteen-year-old. His British accent made the sharpness of his words even more scorching. "You all know that a press conference will be in a few days and that surrounding a royal could be an act of war! Get back!"

Danny had a moment of relief until someone snatched his arm. He flinches away, going for a punch, but it gets caught by the person tugging him through the crowd.

Danny could only blink at the smiling face of Dick Grayson until the man helped him into a car. The British man quickly came back, jumping into the driver's seat and speeding off as the crowd of reporters tried to get one last photo.

Danny's breaths were coming in short, fast puffs. He wasn't very sure what was going on. He couldn't think. There were so many flashes. So many voices. So many people-!.

A hand pushed his head between his knees, rubbing his back. "It's okay. You're okay. "

Danny gasped, tears finally falling as he tried to explain why he had done something stupid. "I-i just wanted to see- the landmarks- I didn't mean- I- I."

"Shhh. I know. It's okay. You're okay."

After a while, Danny was able to sit up. His saviors had asked him to name five things he saw, four things he could hear, three things he could listen to, and one thing he could taste to calm down, but it worked. Only then did he realize there were more people in the fancy car with them.

A boy his age sat on his right, having been the one to push his head down. It took only a second to recognize him: Tim Drake, teenage CEO and one of the most attractive men he had ever seen.

A blond teenage girl who also seemed their age sat in the passenger seat, though she twisted around to give him a warm smile. She was also very gorgeous.

Not to mention Dick Grayson, who had a warm hand on his back. Adonis must have returned as the first adopted son of Bruce Wayne because, goddam, that man was fine.

Even the British man was handsome for someone his grandfather's age.

Had he died (again) and gone to heaven?

"Here," Drake placed a cold water bottle in his palm, offering the gobsmacked Danny a small smile. "Drink. It'll help."

"Ugh...I.. thank you for rescuing me," He managed to gasp out.

"Don't mention it. We all know the hell of the paparazzi. Glad you alright. " the girl said. "I'm Stephanie Brown, but you can call me Steph. The guy to your right is Tim Drake, the one on your left is Dick Grayson, and this fine man driving us is Alfred Pennyworth."

"I'm Danny Fenton." He says, taking a swing. The cold water went down his throat and grounded him.

"We know. You've made quite the wave with your marriage." Grayson said though not unkindly. "We'll have to take you to our manor to switch cars; otherwise, they'll just wait for us at the hotel."

Danny thought it over before whispering, "Can I message my sister? She must be worried-"

A portal rips open in front of him. The other humans all let out cries of alarm but not as loudly as Danny when Phantom's head pokes out of it.

He has a moment to wonder how in the world that was possible until the ghost waves at him using one of Clockwork's necklaces. Oh, it's him from the future. Okay. That's happening.

"Darling! I felt you in distress! What happened?! Shall I punish everyone in Gotham? " Phantom questions in a tone Danny had never been aware he could make. It's smooth. It's all-knowing. It's seductive.

What the fuck is going on?

"There is no need for any form of punishment. Not to worry, your highness." Drake quickly jumps in. "We would never allow anything to happen to your husband. I will personally keep Mr. Fenton away from any danger. "

Danny watched in slight horror as his future ghost self gave the other man a long look before smirking. "I appreciate the offer, and you are certainly my type with that black hair and blue eyes, but I am fine with only one husband. Danny will decide to add you to the marriage if he would like to have more partners."

Drake blinks wide started eyes. "I- I beg your pardon?"

"I have a protection and ice core. Proclaiming to keep my romantic partner safe is the same as asking for my hand in marriage due to the customs of protective spirits. Were you not aware?"

"I wasn't!" Danny interrupts loudly. " I was very unaware that meant marriage proposals!"

Phantom gives him a cheeky smile, and suddenly Danny understands why all his Rouges had wanted to beat his face so often. He can be rather annoying.

"No one will be above you, darling. You are the embodiment of beauty, and I would never desire another. However, the royal family is allowed concubines. You may take human ones if you wish to. I wouldn't want to ruin any of your fun."

"Who told you to say this!?" Danny demands, forgetting himself for a moment. Or the watchful eyes of the Waynes swinging between them with prompt attention.

"Why just the royal advisor!" Phantom laughs, his white hair bouncing as he tilts his head.

Jazz. She was responsible for this. How could he have thought she was sane?

"I don't want a concubine!" Danny yells, face burning. He's never been more mortified in his life, including walking down. For breakfast in Superman boxers, only to find Superman at the bottom of the stairs.

What a terrible day that was to run out of clean pants.

Phantom smiles. "I love you too, darling. I shall see you soon. I do not wish to strain your body anymore."

He thrusts his head back into the glowing green portal, and with a soft pop, he's gone. The car is utterly silent until Grayson whispers.

"Does this mean Tim just got married through fae laws?"

Danny whips his head at him. "No! It does not!"

Drake lets out a small breath of relief. "Oh, thank God. Not that you aren't hot, Mr. Fenton, but I'm not ready for marriage."

Danny wonders if he can reach the door handle to throw himself out of a speeding car. He knows somewhere in the future. He is laughing his ass off at current him.

"Dude, none taken. Could you clarify how I ended up here? I just wanted to jump across Gotham roofs, and suddenly, I can marriage trap people."

Danny wishes he could kick his own ass- not counting Dan- as Steph breaks into uncontrolled laughter.

"Oh, Danny, you're going to fit in well!" She says between wheezing.

Grayson raises his hand, face glued to his phone. "Bruce just sent in the family group chat that none of us are allowed near Phantom."

"Why?" Danny asks.

Grayson shrugs. "We're all his type, and Bruce's heart can't handle that."

"Fair enough"

(Part 1) (Part 2)

[katelynnwrites]

the meaning of a friendly | laura freigang

warnings: ~

word count: 523

summary: your arsenal teammate, katie, doesn't know the meaning of a friendly game as your girlfriend rather unfortunately finds out

a/n: been meaning to write this blurb forever! inspired by this and this

it's with a pointed look of disappointment that you greet one katie mccabe with when she walks into the locker room.

she sits directly across from you so it doesn't take her long to notice that you're being particularly frosty today.

'what's with the long face? woke up on the wrong side of bed did ya?' she teasingly mocks.

'not exactly mccabe.' you shortly reply.

'oh so you didn't miss me during the international break?'

your frown intensifies and katie's grin begins to waver as starts to actually think about what could possibly be bothering you.

sweden had won both their friendlies easily and she had seen on your instagram stories that you had had a good time being back together with your national teammates.

'seriously, what's up? you're not usually like this.'

rather annoyedly, you pull on your laces to tighten your boot.

'remind me, who did ireland just play against?'

'germany?' katie answers, uncertainly because what did that have to do with your mood today.

'and remind me again, who my girlfriend is?' you grit out.

'laura. laura freigang who you talk about all time. she plays for frankfurt yes?'

unable to stand your club teammate's confusion any longer, you get up and in a voice full of irritation, state, 'conveniently, you're forgetting that you gave her a black eye a couple days ago.'

a soft 'oh.' escapes the irish woman as the dots very quickly connect in her mind.

'i'm sorry?' she tries, as meekly as katie mccabe would ever be.

'you shouldn't be apologising to me mccabe. try directing that apology to laura instead because you messed her pretty face up good. don't you know the meaning of friendly?'

for a brief moment, katie thinks about pointing out to you that a black eye is only temporary but soon discards the thought at the barely disguised anger in your eyes.

'right. i'll send her a dm on social media. and maybe a get well soon basket if you'll text me her address?' she attempts to appease.

'good.' you say, with an air of finality before finishing lacing up your boot and brushing past the remarkably quiet brunette.

even though you have been her arsenal teammate for years, you can count on one hand the number of times you have seen her silent.

so it is with distinct pleasure that you leave the locker room, only to round the corner and pull out your phone to call your girlfriend.

laura picks up immediately, 'did it work?'

'better than i thought it would. you can expect an apology and a gift basket soon schatz.' you giggle, completely dropping your previous act.

the striker laughs, 'alright. i'll be gracious in accepting her apology and thanking her for the basket.'

'don't worry about it lau. i have a feeling that this isn't the last we see of katie mcyellow.'

your teasing words are met with more of the blonde's bright laughter and you say your goodbyes with a grin.

a grin that turns more into smug smirk when you see the irish captain come out of the locker room, still looking suitably chastised.

German Translation:

schatz - sweetheart