#this is from a few months back but i never posted it here
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A Package Deal - Part 5
In which big things happen at Silverstone
Warnings: nothing but fluff, as per usual Pairing: Lando Norris x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 2.8k words
A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 Master List Don't miss my new project: Track Limits, the fully original sports romance set in the cut-throat world of Formula 1 (first part will be posted tomorrow, January 6th)
yourusername (private) posted
102 likes liked by landonorris, BFFSarah, stellasgrandpa, and others yourusername home race, best race BFFSarah cuties stellasgrandpa so much fun today with you. that man of yours is a keeper. >>>yourusername ❤️ love you dad >>>landonorris thanks for keeping my girls company today, sir! glad you had fun, would love to have you & stella at more races this year >>>BFFSarah 'my girls' i die
"Momma, it's hot." Stella whines, tugging on your hand as you walk towards the McLaren hospitality suite Sunday morning.
"Baby, I know. Hospitality has aircon though, so let's get inside. Lando's there too and he wants to see you before he gets into the car."
Behind you, your dad and step mom follow along. It's the British Grand Prix weekend and instead of working this race, you're here as Lando's personal guest, along with your family. It's surreal, attending the race but not working. You felt insanely out of place in hospitality in your jeans and black tank top instead of your papaya and black team kit.
Stella scampers off ahead of you, heading straight to the giant orange building that sits behind the garages at Silverstone. She's been with you all weekend, having wanted to watch Lando during all three practice sessions and qualifying. It was her first time in the paddock this weekend and as you watched her take to the atmosphere like a fish you water, you were worried you'd never be able to get her away from here. There was something magical in it though, watching your baby come alive and fall in love with something for the first time in their life.
The glass sliding doors woosh open for you and Stella and you're rewarded with a wash of cool air instantly giving you relief from the hot British summer outside. The main room of the suite is a hub of activity. Several meetings going on all at once, employees coming and going, meals being served for guests. It was all a bit overwhelming but you'd been to a few races already this season and it was beginning to feel routine for you.
You check your phone and see that Lando returned your text, informing you he was just in his drivers room up on the second floor.
"Stella, Lando is up on the second floor in his room. Knock before you go in." You tell your daughter, knowing she's going to want to run to see your boyfriend as soon as she can. You watch as she runs away before turning back to your dad and step mom. "She's been hanging out there all weekend. She says it's her favorite place in the world."
Your dad looks a little surprised, "I don't think I've ever seen Stella that comfortable in a crowd or without one of us." He marvels.
You smile, having noticed the same thing. You follow after Stella as you respond to your dad. "She's been this little social butterfly all weekend, it's like this place is magic for her. She's barely left Lando's side."
Lando and Stella had developed such a special relationship over the last seven months and even though it was normal to you now, sometimes you still had to stop and wonder if this was really real. He picked her up from school on such a regular basis that Ms. Rose in the front office had stopped asking him for ID and stopped calling you to make sure he had permission to take Stella. There had been several times that Stella had made an appearance on one of Max F's streams while Lando raced online with him. Since Lando rarely streamed with video on, you had allowed Stella to 'help' Lando drive when her permitted it, which was whenever Stella asked. Because your little girl had your boyfriend wrapped around her little finger. For a little girl that had always been shy around men other than her own grandpa, Stella blossomed when Lando and her grew closer.
By the time you reach the top of the stairs, you can see that the door to Lando's room is thrown wide open and you just hope Stella had remembered to knock before barging in. You can hear her chatter float out of the door and when you round the corner, Stella is sat next to Lando on the leather couch that sits underneath the window.
“And then Momma made you walk fifteen miles in a heat wave just to see me?” Lando exclaims, barely covering up a laugh at Stella’s dramatics.
“Stella Rose!” You laugh, stopping in your tracks and propping your hands on your hips. “We walked across the track through the air conditioned tunnel from the hotel!”
“Gee, I wonder where she gets her dramatic streak from.” Mutters your dad from behind.
You spin, sound of indignation flying from your lips while everyone else dissolves into laughter.
“Ok, Lan and Stella already gang up on me enough, I can’t have you two choosing their side too!” You say though your own laughter.
Stella continues to chatter away as the four adults in the room listen raptly. This goes on for a while before a soft knock at the door interrupts a story Stella is telling about taking Rosco for a walk yesterday after quali. Everyone turns and you're very surprised to see Andrea standing in the doorway.
"I thought I'd find you here." The Team Principle says, smile playing on his lips. Since you'd been traveling a bit with the team and deployed your tire monitoring program full time a few races ago, Andrea and you had gotten a bit closer. You liked the man, with his gently demeanor and soft spot for your boyfriend.
"Hi Andrea!" Stella chirps from where she sits on Lando's lap. The two had met Friday morning and Stella had taken an immediate liking to the man.
"Hi Ms. Stella, how are you this morning?"
"Good, thank you!" Stella smiles and then goes back to chattering at Lando.
Seemingly dismissed by your daughter, Andrea chuckles and turns back to you. "I know you're not working today but can I steal you for a moment? It won't take long, I just want to chat about something."
Something twists in your stomach, anxiety rising to the surface. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lando's ears perk up as he continues to listen to Stella talk. He keeps one eye on your daughter but his attention is clearly on you. "Oh, of course. Everything okay?" You can't possibly think of anything you'd left unfinished before leaving for the weekend on Thursday but you could have missed something.,
"Yes yes! Nothing to worry about. Just want to talk to you about something."
Your dad shoos you towards the door, telling you they'll watch Stella while you're busy. Nodding, you turn and follow Andrea out of Lando's room down the hall to where his office is. Anxiety settles in the pit of your stomach despite being assured that nothing is wrong.
Once in his office, Andrea shuts the door behind you and motions for you to sit down. The office is small, just enough room for a small desk and a few chairs. Andrea doesn't spend much time in here on race weekends but it's nice for him to have a quiet place to get away during these hectic days.
"Thank you for taking a few moments. Like I said, I know you're here as Lando's guest and not working but I wanted to get your thoughts on something Zak and I have been discussing for quite some time."
You nod, feeling a little better. It wasn't totally out of the ordinary that Andrea or one of the race engineers needs you randomly on a weekend, despite the program basically running itself now. "Of course, how can I help?"
Andrea tents his fingers in front of his face, resting his elbows on the desk in front of him. "Zak and I have been really impressed by you this season, that program you wrote has been essential in all of our finishes and wins so far."
You flush under the praise. "Thank you."
Andrea nods, "I don't know if you're aware but there's an opening on the strategy team." Your heart stops in your chest. You had heard rumors of one of the race strategists leaving the team to go over to Aston Martin a few weeks ago, but it had never been confirmed by the team anywhere publicly. "Zak and I have been taking our time looking for the replacement and we wanted to see if you'd be interested in the position. You have the data gathering and analysis skills down and that program you developed shows you know how to interpret the data in a way that is helpful to the team. We think you'd be an amazing asset to the strategy team."
For a few moments, you're totally speechless. You only have an undergraduate degree in computer science and data analytics, generally the strategists have degrees in engineering or aerodynamics, neither of which you have. "I...I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, Andrea."
"Then say you'll take the job." He says, grin spreading across his face. "There will be some more travel than your doing right now, but both Zak and I are willing to work with you on the schedule and make sure Stella is taken care of." He adds and you wonder if he was reading your mind in the moment because that was going to be your first question.
"Can I think about it? Run it by my dad and Stella's nanny?" You desperatly want to say yes, a spot on the strategy team something you'd wanted for a long time but had never thought you'd be able to manage.
"Of course! I don't expect an answer right away. Will you be in the office on Tuesday?"
"Yes, I was planning on it."
"Perfect. I'll have Zak's assistant put some time on your calendar for the three of us to sit down and discuss. Sound good?"
You nod, slightly overwhlemed at the decision you now have to make. Andrea has to get to the garage then so you wish him good today and slowly make your way back over to Lando's room.
The room is quiet when you wander in, eyes a bit glazed over from shock as the offer that Andrea just made you begins to sink in.
"Everything okay?" Lando's tone is laced with concern, drawing you out of your own world. He rises before taking your hands in his own. "Baby, you're shaking. What happened?"
"They want me to join the strategy team." You whisper weakly, eyes darting from the floor up to meet Lando's pretty greenish blue ones that you love so much.
"What? Babe! That's huge! I'm so proud of you!"
"I haven't said yes yet."
Lando leads you over to the couch and for the first time since you walked into his room you notice the quiet. "Where's Stella?" You ask as you sit down next to Lando who draws you close into his side.
"Your dad and stepmom took her to get some lunch and ice cream downstairs. Now, why haven't you accepted the offer yet, love? You talk all the time about how you wanted to make the move to doing more strategy and less analysis."
"It's a lot of travel, probably half the races instead of what I've been doing. I can't leave Stella that often."
Lando shakes his head, "You can't let that stop you, this is such an amazing opportunity." Lando knew that if he didn't help talk you into this, you'd pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity. "She adores Tilly and her and your dad have been doing so well too." Tilly was the nanny you had hired back in May after Miami and the two got along so well while you were traveling, sometimes you wondered if Stella loved her more than she loved you.
"Stella is getting older, she understands that you need to travel for work now." Lando continues, tangling your fingers up with his and giving them a squeeze. "She'll be fine, and she'll get to see her mom going out and working hard and living her dreams. When you're not working races and Stella isn't in school, you guys can travel with me. We can make this work, my love, I promise. You don't have to juggle this all alone anymore."
Tears sting at the back of your eyes at your boyfriend's encouragement. As you had walked back from Andrea's office you had been fully prepared to turn down the promotion, not feeling like you could manage the increase in travel and responsibilities but with Lando's encouragement, you were second guessing your decision already. "You think we could handle it?"
"Baby, there's not doubt in my mind that the three of us can handle whatever this crazy job throws at us." Lando pulls you further into his side, arm slipping around your shoulder as he leans in. He dusts a quick kiss on your lips before pressing another one to your temple. "We're a package deal now, remember? It'll all work out."
You draw in a deep breath before nodding, "Okay. Let's do it then."
"That's my girl." He praises, kissing you again as you sink further into his warmth.
"Momma! Lando won! Lando won the race!" Stella shouts over the pandemonium of the garage. Tears stream down your face as you watch your boyfriend pull into parc ferme after winning his home race, Oscar just behind him in P2. It had been a stressful race, the teammates had traded the lead a few times but in the end, Lando had the superior race pace and had pulled away from Oscar during the last quarter of the race.
It was the first time McLaren had won their home race in ages and everyone in the garage was emotional. The team spills out of the garage, racing over to the barriers to greet the two McLaren drivers. You slowly follow behind, Stella's hand firmly grasped in yours as you lead her over to watch Lando get out of the car.
The moment he's out and his helmet is off, Lando is looking for you. It wasn't his first win of the season but it was the first with you and Stella there to see him win. His entire family was here since it was his home race and the satisfaction and pride that swelled in his chest was almost too much to handle. He spots you at the back of the crowd and he knows you're back there because you don't want to wade deep into the crowd with Stella.
Not wanting to wait until after the race to see you, Lando rounds the barriers making a beeline straight for you. Behind him, a pair of camera's follow up and you're acutely aware of the fact you're about to be on live TV.
"There's my girls!" Lando shouts before scooping up Stella in his arms. "The prettiest good luck charms on the grid." He murmurs in your ear as he cuddles Stella on his other side. "I'm so fucking lucky."
You laugh into his neck, suddenly shy at the fact that your face is being shown on the huge video screens all over the track. Lando draws back before kissing you full on the mouth, much to Stella's dismay.
"Gross!" Stella squeals as she wiggles out of his arms, allowing Lando to fully take you in his arms now, giving you the biggest bear hug he can.
"I'm so proud of you." You sob, so happy you got to see him win his home race. You knew how much this meant to him and being able to witness in person with Stella made it that much more meaningful.
"I love you." Lando murmurs before letting you go. "I have post race stuff to do, media and all that but I'll meet you back in the drivers room as soon as I can, okay?"
You nod as you squeeze his hand. Stella launches herself into Lando's arms once again and he spins her around, head tipped back on a laugh. The cameras capture it all and if you had been watching it on TV, you would have heard every commentator losing their minds at how cute Lando's little family is.
Lando eventually puts Stella down after he hears Victor calling his name. There is so much to do after a win, especially one as big as winning his home race, but he doesn't want to leave you or Stella quite yet. Lando steals one last kiss from you, drops a kiss onto the top of Stella's head and finally jogs away, knowing he needs to get things taken care of after the win.
Hours later, after all the champagne is washed off and Stella is tucked into bed in the second bedroom of your suite for the weekend, Lando and you tumble into bed together, celebrating one of his biggest wins of the year in the best way possible.
landonorris posted:
508,903 likes liked by yourusername, mclaren, BFFsarah, and others landonorris home race, best race. great race this weekend with my girls here for good luck. yourusername ❤️ so proud of you my love! >>>user992 couple goals fr >>>user334 how does it feel to be god's favorite?! user0299 oh my GODDDD Lando running over to her and Stella after the race and calling them his girls on live tv??? Straight out of a Taylor Swift song. >>>user1221 god, I've seen what you've done for others
tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @mindless-rock @piastri-fvx
#f1#formula 1#lando norris#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#mclaren#ln4#lando norris x singlemom!reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#ln4 x reader#lando norris x female reader
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podcast therapuss ⎯ DREW STARKEY
authors notes first time writing influencer!reader, i like it so far. this idea popped into my head the other day after watching one of jake’s episodes. there's no face claim for influencer!reader, i added this picture for the ideal theme.
taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.
masterlist
summary joining jakes podcast talking about various topics then mentioning not getting the chance to meet drew starkey. clips of you talking about him goes viral which leads him to reaching out to you.
warning(s) none!
About a month ago, your manager texted you about doing a podcast with Jake Shane, and you quickly said yes. You contacted him shortly after your managers confirmed it, expressing your excitement. Since then, you've grown closer and spent the night before the episode was filmed.
The two of you went out to dinner and got to talking about various of topics. It was a great way to get to know each other. You consider each other as friends now.
You've used social media since you were fifteen years old. You began by posting YouTube videos, and you continue to do so. Tiktok became another source of content to promote, including daily vlogs, hilarious content, and so on. Nothing would make you change it.
Everyone was getting settled before filming began. Jake started off by talking about a few topics then you came in. You were super excited about doing this.
“Welcome to Therapuss! "We've got the incredible Y/N here today," Jake says, gesturing toward you as you relax into the comfortable chair across from him. You flash your characteristic smile, which your followers enjoy. The cameras roll, but it feels natural—just another day in your life, sharing your thoughts and experiences with the world.
"Stop it!" you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, Jake, thank you very much for having me. "I am a huge fan of the podcast."
"You're too kind," he replies, smiling. "So, let us dig in. You've experienced an unimaginable rise on social media. Your vlogs are really addictive, your TikToks are continuously trending, and everyone adores you. "How does it feel?"
You enjoy answering questions like this. They are your favorite because you don't always get to discuss what inspired you for doing this.
"It's surreal, honestly," you acknowledge. "I started YouTube my freshman year of high school because I wanted to look back on the moments I made. I never imagined it would turn out like this. It has been a whirlwind, but I am grateful for it."
Jake takes it all in, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand. "Based on what I've seen, your content is incredibly diverse in your vlogs, TikTok, and lifestyle tips. Tell me, how do you balance all of that?" He asks, intrigued by what you do.
You respond to the question by explaining how you learned to draw boundaries over time. You prefer to keep a lot of things private that do not affect the outer world. As your audience grew, you formed a unique bond with them.
"Do you have a show you've been obsessed with lately?" Jake asks you while laughing and raising his eyebrows.
"Duh, Outer Banks pookie!" Before you laugh and toss your head back theatrically, you smirk. The statement, "I love all characters, Rafe is my favorite," leaves Jake speechless.
"Let me explain, his character is so interesting and yes, he's a psycho," you huff, putting your palms up in defense.
Jake and you keep talking about the show and his favorite show.
Jake nods in agreement. "Totally. Okay, switching gears to Pougelandia. Tell me everything."
You giggle and lean back in your chair. "Oh my goodness, that was incredible! The Outer Banks cast is as cool as they appear on television,” You gush, your excitement is evident.
Jake’s face lights up hearing you talk about the cast, “stop it that sounds so sweet, tell me more!”
You quickly point at him, “They’re so down to earth and so sweet. I got to meet practically everyone except for one person,” pouting then covering your hands with your hands.
Jake shrieks in surprise, "bitch who? "You must tell me!" He exclaims excitedly, settling into his seat.
“Drew Starkey. I was very disappointed since I'd heard he was the sweetest person, but our schedules didn't work out." you confess with a hint of disappointment. You were excited to meet him and start a conversation like you did with the rest of the cast.
Jake, of course, teased you about it, saying, “I feel like we’re setting up a rom-com here. Drew, if you’re listening, the universe is waiting.”
The remainder of the podcast you two continue to talk about various topics and even did the infamous NAME—someone will send in a question or mention something for Jake and the guest to answer the question on the podcast. There were lots of interesting questions.
A few days later, the episode is up—fans are talking about you talking about Drew and you wanting to meet him. TikTok is overloaded with clips of you talking about Drew, and your comments are full of hopeful hints about a possible meet-up.
You'd just completed editing your most recent YouTube video for your next vlog, and you were drained enough to fall asleep at your desk. The buzz of your phone buzzing from your bed, frowning but curious in who it could be.
You scream. Literally scream.
Drew Starkey followed you.
Drew Starkey sent you a message.
"Am I being punked?" Am I dreaming? "What the fuck is happening?" You ramble while holding your phone in your shaky hands and looking at the two notifications on your lock screen.
Allowing yourself to relax and compose yourself. You unlock your phone, tap on instagram, go to the messaging tab, you’re sure your jaw dropped to the floor.
Drew Starkey: Hey, I recently watched your podcast with Jake. We should get together sometime—finally make up for not meeting in Pougelandia!
What do you say?
How do you come off calmly?
Yourusername: Hi! Yes, it sounds perfect. Let me know when you’re free.
Fast forward two months later, you feel you’re still in a dream. Drew and you hung out together at a local coffee shop then went back to your place to talk more. Once you started talking you two couldn’t stop.
After hanging out the first time came more meeting ups. Drew asked you to be his girlfriend three weeks ago—you were shocked and excited all at once.
One day, while scrolling through TikTok in your kitchen, leaning on the counter, you came across the trend—wait they don't love you like I love you. You thought the trend was silly, so you decided to participate.
You did a couple tries and posted your favorite one out of the four—not realizing Drew was in the background on his phone, unfazed about what you were doing. Your comments started blowing up.
Bestie you got some explaining to do 🤨
Causally dancing in your kitchen while Drew Starkey is walking around at the same time? Interesting
When worlds collide fr 😏
Alright where the cameras at...
I fucking knew it!!!!
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✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account
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#drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒#drew starkey#influencer!reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey x influencer!reader#drew starkey outer banks#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey one shot#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey obx#drew starkey fic#drew starkey content#drew starkey interview#outer banks drew starkey#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks x you#outer banks blurb#therapuss podcast!
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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩
It's accidentally been 3 months since I posted my last fic round up, so this post contains months worth of reading and so is much longer than normal. If you're curious, this round up includes the following fandoms (in this order):
ATLA
DC (Batman) & Danny Phantom Crossover
DC (Batman)
Star Wars (Prequels)
The Goblin Emperor
The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)
James Bond
Marvel (Spider-Man)
Red, White & Blue
Stranger Things
King Falls AM (Podcast)
ATLA
Academic Excerpts and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Studied by Scholars Who Make It Their Full Time Job by Vinces
Zuko and Aang conspired early to keep the Firelord’s identity as the Blue Spirit a secret. Zuko unmasked would only make his spot on the Dragon Throne more tenuous during a time of upheaval in the post-war Fire Nation.
Nevertheless, the post-war academics are on it. Who was the Blue Spirit?
Aang and Zuko try their best to play it cool.
Aang’s pretty successful…
Zuko? Well, he’s trying his best. -- Or where two-thirds of the story is historical “articles” set in and referencing the world of Avatar and one third is Zuko (and Aang) navigating a world where there are academic papers speculating about the prison breakout they did together.
In Utter Hones-tea by agooseinhiding
The Jasmine Dragon has been formally invited to join the Earth King's retinue as he takes the monumental first step onto Fire Nation soil since the start of the Hundred-Year War! Truly, an honor.
Unfortunately, "The Jasmine Dragon" includes Li, the owner's grumpy nephew with an outrageously bad haircut and a wardrobe that's solely green, who knows way too much about the Avatar and his teachers, and who swears on his honor that he's totally, definitely not the Fire Lord.
Somehow, the other tea servers don't believe him. But they've never gotten a chance to prove it (or disprove it, in some cases) until now.
The Jasmine Dragon is going to the Fire Nation, and Hua Ming is going to show once and for all that shop-famous enigma Li is Lord Zuko himself, or she's going to die trying.
(She is going to die on this trip.)
Ft.: General Iroh playing the biggest prank in Fire Nation history, a five thousand yuan bet, and the Jasmine Dragon tea servers.
Taking a Break (In) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)
Part 1 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)
After a few agonizingly slow seconds of exhausted, confused pondering, Zuko decided there was only one logical conclusion. “You’re right," he told the assassins, "I’m here to help you kill the Fire Lord.” Like a genius.
Caldera City is holding a festival to celebrate finally having enough funds to hold a festival! Although Zuko originally deemed himself too busy to go, Sokka managed to cajol him into attending his own party, in a knock-off Blue Spirit disguise for security purposes. Zuko sneaks back into the palace right in time to catch a group of assassins sneaking out. They failed to find the Fire Lord and assume he's reinforcements.
Zuko needs to find who ordered a strike on him before they do something stupid, like order a second one. Obviously, the most reasonable thing to do is join the assassins and hope they don’t figure out who he actually is. Obviously. There’s literally no other option.
Feat. Zuko's only two coping mechanisms (mortal peril and improv theater), the world's most incompetent hit team, and another knock-off Blue Spirit who's determined to prove this "Li" isn't who he says he is.
Kindred Spirits (sent from my iphone) by Duckduck_Scribblerswan (Caellie_E_and_Vaye_R)
Part 2 of a little bit of monicker in my life (Zuko has too many secret identi-teas)
Zuko just wanted to take a breather after a stressful political summit in the Earth Kingdom. Unfortunately, some passerby with good eyesight spotted him entering an apartment through the door as Li and leaving through the window as the Blue Spirit, right before he left for the Fire Nation. The Earth Kingdom puts two and two together and, appropriately, gets four: the Blue Spirit has kidnapped Li, and presumably the other Fire Nation refugees who have been disappearing across Ba Sing Se. They must save Li and bring the Blue Spirit to justice!
Unwilling to reveal himself as either the Blue Spirit, wanted in both the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom for treason and petty larceny, or Li, who'll draw attention to his uncle's teahouse, Zuko does the next most reasonable thing: he panics.
Meanwhile, Mai, Suki, and Toph are busy investigating who's really at fault for the disappearances of these refugees, King Kuei has realized he can get away with some truly ridiculous antics as king, and the newspapers are getting suspicious of how protective Fire Lord Zuko is of these two random people he apparently picked up in Ba Sing Se. What's up with that, anyway?
Relieved, with honors by redrobin1989
A Fire Lord’s duty is to his people; Zuko seeks out the last Fire Nation soldiers of the Hundred Year War to send them home.
ASYLUM by asfearlessasamango
If Zuko was Azula, trapped in a golden palace with no family but Fire Lord Ozai for years. If Zuko was Azula, now trapped in a marble asylum with no way out that he can see. If Sokka visited. And the complications of a whole world followed.
DC/ Danny Phantom Crossover
Wanted: Dead and Alive by Astereae
“Hey, I do I... Do I know you?” Danny asks, a hand coming up to brush something off Tim’s cheek. “No,” Tim says. “We haven’t met.” “Oh, no, I do.” Danny says, and he smiles, teeth white and sharp. “You’re that guy who rearranged my guts!” Rearranged his- Tim glances at the knotted scars on the boy’s abdomen. He can see the shine and shadow of haphazard stitches that weren’t meant to hold forever, that tore and healed over. His- This- “WHAT!?” Nightwing shouts, equal parts confused and delighted. Tim’s fucked.
OR: Danny Fenton's been in GIW captivity for 4 months.
Tim Drake gets kidnapped by the GIW one Tuesday evening in May.
Considering how many of the Bats and the Birds have died and come back to life, it was only a matter of time for some people interested in the afterlife to come poking around. The detectives can't seem to uncover any information about the mysterious white vans, however.
And they keep losing the mysterious boy who seems to be the one person in Gotham to know anything at all.
DC
it's a long climb up the dusty mountain by whitegeraniums (puertoricansuperman)
"The mission went," Dick echoes, a faint smile on his face. He's still in Bruce's arms, though he could easily escape if he wanted to. Something warm kindles deep, deep in Bruce's chest. Then he thinks of the other Dick, tense as a wire in his arms, shuddering at his touch.
"He had children." He says it without thinking. Dick's expression darkens. He knows where Bruce went tonight, and Bruce watches him piece together the implications of alternate dimension and evil Batman and children.
Or: When you've hit rock bottom, the only place left to go is up.
Star Wars
Misunderstanding Master by bgyeetusthefetus
“A beer please,” Obi-Wan said, his voice barely rising above the din. He placed the credits on the bar, his fingers shaking slightly as he did so./
The bartender looked down at him with a frown, his brows furrowing as he took in Obi-Wan's thin frame. “How old are you, kid?”
Obi-Wan shifted uneasily, suddenly aware of the attention he was drawing from the patrons around him. “It’s not for me,” he replied quickly, his voice steady despite the tremor in his fingers. “I’m just fetching it for my Master.”
Master is a bit of a loaded word in the wider galaxy.
The Goblin Emperor
Date With The Night by DontStopHerNow
Csethiro and Csevet conspire to give Maia a night outside the Alcethmeret.
Unfortunately, when Beshelar finds out, they have a lot of explaining to do.
queen of peace by astardanced
Csethiro broke abruptly free of the pack and came sweeping towards him with hands outstretched, probably hoping to do damage control.
“Serenity,” she said, ignoring her father, who seemed to be wanting to prompt her like a conductor. “We are honoured to have you here.”
Maia had very little experience with the specific social mortifications of an embarrassing family— his own having simply chosen to forget he existed— and it wouldn’t have been fair to make a judgement, but there was already an undeniable tinge of the ridiculous to the entire affair.
(Awkward dinners are part and parcel of the Emperor's role... but the Ceredada really are spectacularly embarrassing.)
The Sunshine Court (AFTG series)
i'm not the same as i was by perchancetosleep
The imminent return to Evermore has him jumping at shadows, and he is already at the end of his rope. Every ounce of energy every single day goes to pretending to be what is required of him—he has to override years of training (away, not towards) to perform adequately on the court, to uphold the Trojan standard, and he has to pretend that while he does it he is a functioning human and not simply a discarded toy too broken to be played with anymore.
It’s why he spent his time in Palmetto when he could walk watching every single Trojans interview and game he could, so he could memorize their speeches and their strategies and their game play so that he would not be a burden. Jean knows what he owes his new masters. And he will not fail.
(Or, Jean tries to fake it until he makes it at USC)
oh i was raised on little light by perchancetosleep
On the third Thursday of every month, Jean walks seven miles across town to visit his sister.
This is the deal that he’s struck with his sister’s foster—no, adoptive now—family. They used to claim that he could visit whenever he wanted, and it used to be Jean’s ability to sneak out of the Moriyama’s home that limited the frequency, but of course the Master had figured out where he was going, and now for years they’ve had him in their ear, telling them how Jean is unstable and disruptive and getting into fights and doing drugs, and of course they don’t want Elodie around that. She’s had a hard enough life as it is, and her good-for-nothing brother is just going to bring trouble and pain. But that won’t stop Jean from showing up, and so this is the deal that he had to make.
Jean will take whatever time he can get.
please i've been on my knees, change the prophecy by perchancetosleep
He can almost pretend, sitting in a warm house at the tiny kitchen table listening to Elodie talk about her dance lessons, that everything is normal. He can pretend that he can stay, that Elodie and him were never separated, and that everything is normal and he is good and he will get to keep this. But Jean had died in that fucking basement years ago, and he’s getting tired of forcing his body to keep going. Sure, Kevin had found a way out and made it to college and made a life, but he had a father waiting for him on the outside.
All Jean has waiting for him at home is a set of guardians that are going to be pissed off that he’s failing chemistry and that he didn’t do his chores and that he’s alive.
James Bond
Begin Again by Snoweylily
M held out the file in her hand and Q automatically took it. “It needs the new Quartermaster’s signature”. The reminder of the Major’s death, the kindly old beta who saw him for him, brought tears to his eyes, and he desperately hoped that the smoke would hide it. “... Okay. Who do I give it to?” “It’s quite a few years ahead of schedule, and quite frankly I’m not even sure if it’s going to work, but Boothroyd always spoke highly of you and you are one of the very few TSS workers still remaining. I’ve spoken to R, the only survivor with seniority over you, and she is quite adamant to remain in her current position with your approval... Which leaves you”. M held out a pen. “Quartermaster”.
Or, “I don’t just have one alpha”. Q grinned, bloody and feral. “I have nine. They’re called the double-0 program; perhaps you’ve heard of them?”
Red, White & Blue
darling, be gentle by SkyGem
In the time that he’s been dating Henry, Alex has been on the receiving end of no less than four shovel talks.
Or.
Okay.
That number may vary, depending on what exactly counts as a shovel talk.
Marvel
Intentions by MellarkandArt
“You’re just- you’re a really great kid and-“
“Mr. Stark,” Peter whispered, suddenly feeling very, very sick.
“Mhm?” Mr. Stark hummed, patting his knee.
“I- I don’t think I can do this. I’ve tried really hard to m-make myself want it, b-but I just don’t. I know you- but I can’t. I just can’t.”
Mr. Stark removed his hand and looked at Peter questioningly. “What are you talking about?”
Peter drew in a shaky breath, feeling the burn as tears fell down his cheeks. “I know you want me to be your- your- I don’t know, but I just can’t be that for someone again, it’s so- so much, and you’re married, you have a daughter, and it’s- I’m sorry. It’s just, it’s too- and I don’t even like you like that, I- I’m sorry.”
Now he’d done it, now Mr. Stark would be looking at him with a heartbroken expression, hurt and betrayed and…
Peter looked up at the man only to see nothing but shock and confusion on his features.
“Peter… Do you think that I have… romantic feelings for you?”
OR: Sometimes people’s intentions aren’t always clear, and Peter has been burnt often enough to know not to play with fire. Irondad, NOT ST*RKER, I promise!!
Stranger Things
Shovel Talks by unkreativstermensch (+ podfic)
“Oh,” Steve says. Then again, “oh,” a little quieter. His expression changes; from confusion to something pained almost. “Mr Munson, I don’t…” he takes a deep breath, his voice a little shaky as he continues. “I don’t think he…I don’t think he likes me like that.”
He doesn’t say “it’s not like that.” Neither does he say “I’m not like that.”
That’s the first thing Wayne notices.
or: Wayne decides to give Steve the shovel talk, only to realize he might not be the one needing one
King Falls AM
i can tell that we are gonna be friends by ace8013, flashsideways
Part 1 of when the radio lights came on (This entire series would be on this round up if it wasn't so damn long)
“I’m graduating this week and I know this is weird and that I met you like a few days ago but… They like, give you tickets? And I don’t know who to invite.” Sammy blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Is this- are you inviting me to your high-school graduation?”
or, Ben graduates from college on May 13, 2015.
to a given standard of normal by neversaydie
Part 5 of cock it and pull it (This series too!!)
The first couple of weeks are… difficult.
Some things are the same. The Jack Sammy remembers sitting across the desk from him in their dingy college radio studio, rambling about the possibility that the math building was haunted; the guy who pushed him into any risky broom closet or empty office he could find to make out, because he was always an adrenaline junkie even if it gave Sammy a heart attack; the Jack who roasted Sammy for his dad jokes even though his were quantifiably worse - he's still there. Mostly intact.
Other things… other things have changed.
[Jack and Sammy start building a life after the void]
the only hoax i believe in by taizi
“Sammy,” Ben says. “You gotta eat.”
Sammy opens his eyes. He isn’t hungry, but he pushes himself upright anyway.
“You better not have tried cooking again,” he says, aiming for light-hearted, angling for a smile.
He nails it. Ben’s eyes go bright and he scoots off the bed with a grin. Not so much fooled as willing to play along, grateful for the semblance of normalcy.
Fake it till you break it, Sammy thinks with the same grim determination that got him through all of high school, and all of college, and every second of every miserable day without Jack and before Ben.
He gets out of bed.
Wish You All The Best by FoxGlade
“This is gonna sound like a stupid question,” Ben says suddenly, “but what year is it?”
Well, Ben has said stupider things. “2018,” Sammy answers. Ben looks to Jack, who looks to Emily, who narrows her mouth into a thin line.
“That’s… maybe a problem,” she says.
(The Christmas magic of King Falls strikes again, giving Sammy a firsthand account of his own future.)
for a higher love by helloearthlings (everything this author writes would also be in this round up if I could)
“Supreme Court legalized same sex marriage this morning, 5-4.”
Ron could tell in an instant that Sammy already knew; something about him crumpled when Ron said it out loud.
God, the guy was – sad about this? Ron’s quiet suspicion about which way Sammy swung was absolutely confirmed – the straight and narrow of King Falls might be all woe is me over the fact that they didn’t have a monopoly on marriage anymore, but no one looked this wrecked if the decision didn’t affect them personally. The question was why this had put Sammy in some sort of drunken stupor.
[Ron, Sammy, and Pride in King Falls.]
#i am in too fandoms someone please help me#i'm considering switching to monthly fic round ups but idk is that something people would be interested in??#or does everyone prefer weekly round ups??#my posts#weekly fic round ups#fic recs#atla recs#dc recs#dp recs#sw recs#tge recs#aftg recs#tsc recs#marvel recs#stranger things recs#kfam recs#misc recs#also happy new year everyone !!
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Helloooooooo my love. First of all, happy new year! (although it's coming a week late, sorry about that) I hope this year is filled with love and joy for you!!
Secondly, piggybacking off your last reblog, yes desi weddings are so elaborate ahhh!!! I loved the whole experience despite how exhausting and stressful it was as the sister of the bride. there's pre-wedding events, a week long wedding and then the post-wedding events so yeah nearly two months of dedicated wedding festivities lmfao but it was SOOO fun and I'm moving overseas in a few weeks so I definitely had a winter for the books.
NOWWWWWWW, I'm going to be honest, I couldn't help myself and I gave myself some sneak peeks from all the chapters uploaded because every time I get the notification I get SO excited and lemme just say - YOU COOKED AND I HAVE MASSIVE THOUGHTS
You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.
Oh god, breaking my heart already. Daemon, I can't stand you at times ughhhhhh. What will it take for my poor girl to not have to beg for someone to love her and be considerate to her.
You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.
This is either going to end horribly or wonderfully and I don't know how to feel about either.
...while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.
GIRL NO!!!!!!!!!
PLEASE STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF EVERY OTHER CHAPTER FOR THE SAKE OF MY WELLBEING
Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.
And there goes my heart again...I'm so mad at Daemon and the chapter has only just begun. I can't get over just how scared she is of telling Daemon about the baby because he will probably accuse her of incest (which would be so fucking ironic HAH) even though deep down he knows she never did any of that he's just emotionally constipated AS HELL. Even Caraxes is going to be done with his ass
In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.
Alexa play "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift
You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."
😭😭😭 STOPPPPP PLEASE SPARE ME
"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.
Help, I know this is a deeply serious moment but I can't help but laugh at the fact that Arryk whipped out his sword to defend himself against CARAXES
"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"
OH MY GOD CARAXES CAN SENSE DAEMONS BABY IN HER TUMMY WE'VE GOT MEDIEVAL DNA TEST SOMEBODY GET DAEMON HERE
"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.
caraxes and reader's bestie arc better start NOW
"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."
Oh my god Arryk stop tattling on my boy Caraxes like that. He was just trying to show some affection and protectiveness!!! It's not his fault that years of bonding with daemon also turned him a little dense and emotionally constipated like his master
"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."
The way I 100% believe that the foundation of the brothers' relationship is that daemon will ALWAYS do the exact opposite of viserys tells him so the fact that he told daemon to return to his lady wife, it will lead him to run as far away from her as possible (aka stepstones)
Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.
THIS SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRADLE MY HEAD IN MY HANDS AND WEEP BECAUSE WHAT THEY COULDVE BEEN IF DAEMON WASNT SO DENSE AND THICK AND STUPID AND UGHHHHHHH
Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."
you're so stupid
The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"
Daemon "I can never comprehend someone being genuinely concerned for me because I never had a mother, I don't remember my father's love and my brother was an even bigger emotionally constipated idiot who can't show me love so I'm going to mistake your love for you doubting my capabilities" targaryen
You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.
This is so tragic I've started crying again...
Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS FUCKER TO RECEIVE THERAPY FROM BRAAVOS OR WHATEVER BECAUSE HIS UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA AND THE LACK OF PARENTAL LOVE HE RECEIVED IS GOING TO DESTROY THE MC AND I CANNOT STAND FOR IT I WILL DIE
"because I love you."
and im dead. im gone.
"you are mistaken."
"I love you" "It'll pass"
"I do not feel the same," he mutters.
FUCK YOU FUCK THE WHOLE TSRGARYEN DYNASTY YOU FILTHY LYING WHORE OF A DRAGON RIDER GO FUCK MYSARIA IN A WIG AND CALL OUT YOUR WIFES NAME AND TELL HER YOU WANT HER BECAUSE YOURE TOO SCARED TO SAY IT TO YOUR WIFE AND GO TO THE SHITTY STEPSTONES SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT UGLY LOOKING PIRATES FOR THREE WHOLE YEARS WITH SHITTY FOOD AND SHITTY WINE KJHGRRYVHBEBN LTLV
You nod, "I know."
Author, did you reach inside my brain and find the worst ways to hurt me? BECAUSE THIS HURTS OKAY
BUT IT ALSO FEELS SO GOOD??? WHYS THE ANGST YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GOOD??? IM IN LITERAL TEARS OVER THESE TWO, THE WAY DAEMON MADE HER BEG FOR HIM TO STAY AND IT WAS STILL NOT ENOUGH THE PARALLELS OF HER SAYING IT NEVER SERVES HER WELL ASKING SOMEONE TO STAY
If you're wondering how I'm doing at the end of this, then imagine this - IM IN TEARS and contemplating my existence. But I cannot atop praising you for how GOOD this chapter was. It hit right the spot. Thank youuuuu for yet another masterpiece <3
Tormented Spirit | 10
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11
"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."
Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3
@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones
Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.
You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.
You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.
You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.
"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.
Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.
The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.
You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.
You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.
The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."
You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.
His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.
You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.
The dragon keeper relaxes.
He mistakes you.
"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"
Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.
The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.
"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.
Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.
The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.
Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.
The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.
Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.
In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.
Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.
You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."
Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.
"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.
Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.
He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.
The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.
"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.
You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.
The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.
You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.
You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."
He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.
The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.
Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.
Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.
You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.
He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.
"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.
Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.
"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.
You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.
Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.
"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"
Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.
You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."
His throat emits a low rumble.
"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.
Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.
You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.
He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.
You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.
When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.
"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."
"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.
You shake your head, still unable to look at him.
"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"
You gulp, quickening you pace.
Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.
He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.
"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."
The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."
Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.
You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."
He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.
You turn to your side when you hear your name called.
Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"
Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."
"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.
Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"
"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"
"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"
"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.
"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt
"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.
"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"
"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."
Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.
Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"
Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"
"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.
You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."
"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.
You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."
"What?!"
"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."
"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.
"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"
"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.
Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"
"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."
Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.
"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."
Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.
"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."
"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.
Dejected, you look away and walk off.
Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.
Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."
Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.
"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.
She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.
Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."
Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."
The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"
Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.
Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."
She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"
He furrows his brows.
"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."
"She fell?"
"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."
His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."
Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.
The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"
Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."
His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."
Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"
"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.
"... what?"
"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"
"..."
The king's nostrils flare.
"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."
Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!
"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"
Daemon stiffens.
"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."
"What?"
"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"
"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."
"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.
Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.
"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"
He laughs dryly.
"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"
Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."
"Then why do you cut me so deep?"
"I see that man for what he is."
Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"
"A cunt!"
The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.
"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.
The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.
"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."
He clenches his fists tightly.
"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."
Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.
"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.
Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.
"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"
"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.
Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."
Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.
You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.
"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.
Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.
"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.
He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.
"Do not be cross with me any longer."
A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."
"I-"
Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.
You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."
He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"
One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."
You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."
You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"
"Fainted?"
"—then I fell."
He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"
"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."
Daemon brushes your hair back.
You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."
"Did he try to bite you?"
You debate for a second before shaking your head.
Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."
Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.
"And your nose bled?"
You do not want to answer.
He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"
"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."
He knits his brows.
"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."
He says absolutely nothing.
"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."
"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"
"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.
"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.
You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.
Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.
You blink at him, "better?"
"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.
You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.
Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."
You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."
Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.
You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"
Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."
"W-what?"
"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."
"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.
Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.
"Why must it be you?"
The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"
He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.
"Wha-"
You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.
Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.
"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.
Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.
Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"
"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.
You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.
He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"
You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."
Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.
Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.
So, what?
What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."
You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.
"I do not feel the same," he mutters.
Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.
Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.
All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.
You nod, "I know."
How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.
Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?
His grip on you falters.
You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."
"What?"
Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."
He knits his brows.
"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."
"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.
You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"
"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."
You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."
Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.
Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."
He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"
"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.
Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."
He stares at your brown hair for a moment.
"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."
He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.
"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."
"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.
"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"
He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.
"What can I do to ma-"
"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."
You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.
"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."
You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"
"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."
"Well, what did you-"
"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"
He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"
"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."
"You are not rolling your belly, I am."
"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"
You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.
Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"
You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.
"No?!" his expression pinches.
You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."
Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"
"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."
"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.
You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.
"I want you to beg me to stay."
You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.
Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.
You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."
"..."
"Stay. I beg you."
Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.
It is not enough.
Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.
There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.
One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.
"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?
"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.
The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.
You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."
You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."
"It is not the dragon I worry about."
You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.
Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.
The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."
You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.
Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.
Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."
You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.
He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."
You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."
Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."
You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."
He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."
"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.
"Yes!"
You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.
Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.
Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.
Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.
Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.
Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.
You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.
He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.
"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."
Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.
"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."
Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.
"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"
The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.
You say nothing once you are on land.
Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"
"I need to see him," you say.
Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"
"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.
Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.
You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"
The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"
"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.
Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.
"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.
Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"
Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."
Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.
"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."
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for the first time - 1.2k words
ex!Patrick Zweig x college!reader
you guys... i wrote something... and it ends abruptly but i felt like i'd rather post this and then post a follow-up later than keep this in the drafts for another 2 months...
inspired by "For The First Time" by Mac Demarco
based off of a request from a long time ago from @rayhalloffame but then i got inspired by the mac demarco song and lost the original plot- my sincerest apologies for that... (so so so sorry that this was so late and also that i lost the plot...)
basically patrick is your ex and you went off to college trying to forget about him, avoided him for a couple years, but this year you've brought back your new (shitty) boyfriend, taken him to your hometown bar, where patrick also happened to be.
tw! for drinking, also abrupt ending, also im not the best writer but i wanted to contribute something...
~~~~~~~~~~~
While she’s been away
Living day-to-day has been tough
Without her by my side
Simply being alive has been rough
And though she won’t be gone forever
There are many times I find it feels that way
And I’m not trying to forget her
Just understand how I’ll be feeling on that day
The bar was surprisingly packed, even for a Saturday night, and the overlapping conversations around him were so loud, it was hard for Patrick to even hear his own thoughts.
It was the weekend before thanksgiving, and it seemed that everyone was back in town for the holiday. Patrick recognized the faces of a lot of his old classmates from high school around him, but not you.
He knew that you’d come back to town the past few years for the holidays, but he somehow never saw you out. He figured that you must’ve been avoiding him. You two hadn’t seen each other since the summer before you went off to college, the summer that you broke up with him.
He could remember it vividly: it was a hot July day, and you had told him to come over. You opened the door, looking like you had been crying for a while, having that closed-off look that Patrick hated.
“I just… can’t go off to college with a boyfriend from back home. Long distance never works.”
Those exact words had been engraved in his mind since that day. Patrick Zweig had never been one for commitment, but something about you was different. Losing you had felt like losing part of himself. But he wanted you to do well in college, so he accepted it. And moved on.
Or, at least, he tried to. But even two and a half years later, things without you still didn’t feel right. Patrick felt pathetic; still stuck on some old childhood friend-turned-high school sweetheart that definitely wanted nothing to do with him. But, he still cared.
So, here he was, standing next to his best friend Art, who had just come back from Stanford, in the middle of a loud, rowdy bar full of college kids. He already knew that you’d be avoiding him again this break, like you’d done for the past two years, but it didn’t sting any less to know that he’d go another year missing you, while you were off at college living your own life.
Without her by my side
Simply being alive has been rough
It was right then that he saw you across the bar, standing in a group of girls that you’d been friends with back in high school, looking even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.
You hadn’t noticed Patrick yet, and he was sure that when you did, you’d shut down and push him away again. You’d avoided him for so long, he was surprised that you two had even ended up in the same place.
Next to you was some guy, standing stiffly and looking completely uninterested in whatever conversation you were having with your friends. It felt like a knife had just been shoved into Patrick’s stomach. He figured that you’d move on eventually, and he’s been with girls that he met on tour since he’d dated you anyways, but seeing you, with this boring, pretentious-looking guy felt unbearable.
That “guy” was your boyfriend, of about 6 months now, that you’d finally brought home to meet your family. He was boring, and uninterested in the things that you liked, but he was stable, and seemed like a good option for you. So, you two had started dating.
Everything with him was just… ok. He had a habit of talking down to you, making you feel dumb, and explaining things to you that you’d already known. He didn’t put much care into the relationship, he had never gotten you flowers or anything, but that’s just what guys are like, right? He treated you just fine, and you guys didn’t fight much, so it must be a good match. But something for you was just missing.
He just… wasn’t Patrick. As much as you resisted admitting it to yourself, deep down you knew that you missed him. Which was basically why you had avoided him at all costs for the past two years, knowing that as soon as you’d start talking again, your progress of “moving on” would be completely wiped away.
But now, the winter break of your junior year in college, you’d started to be less careful about avoiding the popular spots. Maybe it was just you being careless, or maybe you were hoping that you’d see him somewhere, at the bar, or the club, and have the “chance encounter” that’s been replaying in your daydreams since you started dating your current boyfriend.
So, already on your third drink of the night, you couldn’t look away when you locked eyes with Patrick Zweig. God, he looked good. He’s gotten more toned from tour, and you’d forgotten just how tall he was. You could feel your boyfriend standing like a statue beside you, scrolling on his phone while your friend updated the group on all of the hometown gossip. But you couldn’t look away from Patrick. And he knew it.
Before you could fully process it, Patrick Zweig was there, standing in front of you. After two years. You wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look he was trying to keep pressed onto his face, but you could see the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at you. He looked so much… softer with you than he did with anyone else. You’d forgotten about that.
Even your friends smiled when he joined the circle, standing across from you with an almost sheepish smile. Against all odds, they liked him as your boyfriend. At least more than they liked this stuck-up finance bro that you’d brought home this year. As your boyfriend, Patrick had almost become one of the girls, always joining in on a gossip sesh with you all as he held you on his lap, while this current guy acted like he was above that kind of “girly stuff”.
And you just wanted to fall back into his arms. And god, he wanted that too.
But the idle chatter kept going, as you looked at the ground in silence. Your boyfriend didn’t pay any attention to your current state, he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation anyways. But Patrick did, he always did.
“So… how have you been?” he asked, as you looked up hesitantly. And, at his voice, your boyfriend finally looked up from his phone.
“She’s been good,” your boyfriend said, his face contorting into a bitter snarl. “I’m her boyfriend, by the way. Who are you?” he asked Patrick, his voice immediately sounding defensive.
The conversation passed by uncomfortable between them, as you dissociated from the scene before you. Your boyfriend sucked. You missed Patrick. And maybe it was wrong to break up over something like that, but in that moment, you just couldn’t care.
Finishing your third drink, it all passed by in a blur. You pulled your boyfriend away for a second, ending that relationship before you did anything else. It was impulsive, and not your best moment, but honestly it needed to happen.
And you ended up back with your friends, as your boyfriend ubered back to the hotel, talking and laughing with them, feeling at home for a moment.
The rest of the night passed by in a blur, as you fell back into Patrick’s arms as the conversation with your friends continued, him laughing alone, his arms snaked around your waist from behind as you leaned against him, the haze of the bar finally feeling relaxing, instead of too loud or too chaotic.
#patrick zweig#challengers#art donaldson#patrick zweig x reader#challengers fic#challengers x reader#challengers 2024#josh o'connor
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Higher Than Heaven (Yeonjun Fic)
→ Pairing: Yeonjun x afab! Reader
→ Plot: a group project is the last thing you want for your midterm, but working with the student who smokes makes it 10x worse
→ Genre: smut, tiny tiny bit of angst, protection (yes!!), kissing, hickeys, piv sex, reader is judgmental + hates smoking, swearing (Imk if i missed any!!)
→ Warnings: smoking, mentions of food, joke about dead grandparents
→ Word Count: 7,746
→ Notes: hey guys! This is the first fic of my Sanctuary Series! For more information about the series I would recommend going to this post here!I just want to clarify that I do not share the same views as the reader does in this fic, it was purely for plot purposes! Hope you enjoy pt 1 of the series 😚
༄ ༄ ༄
You were always a goodie two-shoes. Perfect attendance, good grades, class president, the story writes itself. You grew up playing different instruments and were always enrolled in a sport or after-school club to keep yourself busy and your portfolio reflecting nothing less than perfection. So how did you go from valedictorian and class president of your high school to a college student who is on the verge or dropping out?
The amount of work you’d allowed to accumulate over the past few weeks was enough to scare even the professors, making them question whether they actually assigned that much work. You could feel your grays coming in at the sight of all your work, exhaling as you decide to tackle the easy assignments first.
It’s the middle of the day on a Thursday. You had a couple of assignments due tomorrow night that you absolutely could not afford to push off any longer. You had already asked for extensions on most of your assignments so far and you didn’t know how many more dead grandparents you could have before your professors questioned the validity of your failed punctuality when it came to turning in your assignments on time. You had class at 3 p.m, giving you a good two and half hours to get some work done.
༄ ༄ ༄
You pack up your belongings as the clock strikes 2:30 p.m. You had gotten a couple of your easy assignments done, though it was very taxing to say the least. You make your way to your class, bundling up as the cold was brutal enough to warrant a cancelation, though, your university would never do that (speaking from experience because wdym its 2℉ out and i have to walk to class when theres black ice on the ground??).
You make it to your class about 15 minutes later, shivering from being cold yet sweating due to the many layers you had on. You take a seat next to your best friend, who had gotten there before you and saved your seat.
“Can we go get food after class? I’ve had back to back classes and meetings all day and I’m starving.”
She drones on. You nod as you take out your laptop, waiting for the professor to start class. You’re prepared to mindlessly take notes for the next hour and half during lecture, but are pleasantly surprised when the professor doesn’t pull up the lecture slides.
“Good afternoon class. I can all tell you guys are doing great so far.”
Her joke lands for some people, getting little chuckles and giggles from different corners of the lecture hall.
“Your midterms are a month away. I would normally give an exam for this class, but this year I have decided to switch it up. I have you all in pairs and you will be submitting a group assignment as your midterm. You will not be required to present but I will give you free reign on the design, layout and mode of presentation on the project meaning you can use any platform or software you would like to get the information across. I have sent you all emails with the name of the person you will be paired up with.”
You and friend look at each other and groan, knowing that the chance of you two being in a group is slim to none. Surely enough, you check your emails for your project partners.
“Who is Choi Yeonjun?”
You ask, looking to your friend to see if she has any answers. She scans the room, presumably to see if he’s in class to point him out to you.
“You see that kid in the middle row to the left? The one with the red hair? That’s him.
You look at the back of his head, sighing as you realize you don’t know this person and that this project is going to take a lot more time out of your busy schedule.
“At least you’re not working with Choi Beomgyu. I heard he can be a handful.”
Your friend rolls her eyes, burning holes in the back of the blonde boy's head, who happens to be sitting next to Yeonjun. You follow your eyes to see the boy, laughing at the irony of your partners sitting next to each other, just like their partners were.
The rest of the class is drag, the growling of your stomach making it seem longer than it was as hunger consumes you.
“Let’s go to the dining hall. I can’t afford to spend any more money on that overpriced cafe.”
Your friend says as you follow her out. It’s gotten pretty dark outside and there weren’t many students walking around in the cold. There were a couple of people here and there, probably walking back to their dorms after class. You two find yourself walking behind a person with their hood up, paying no mind to him until a cloud of smoke hits your face. Your audible groan at the smell of weed alerts his attention as he turns around and apologizes for smoking right in front of you. As he pulls his hood down, you recognize the tuft of bright red hair sitting on the top of his head.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you guys were behind me. I didn’t mean for the smoke to hit you.”
‘Great,’ you thought. Not only did you have to work with a random stranger, but he also smokes publically on campus. You didn’t like smoking or people who smoked. You couldn’t understand why people do it or what joy butchering your throat and lungs could bring you. Your friend knew that about you and sensing your irritation, she speaks up for you, dismissing the incident on your behalf while you both walk ahead of him.
As soon as you know that you’re far enough away from Yeonjun, you ask,
“Can we switch partners?”
Your friend snickers.
“If he smokes, I can almost assure you that his friend does too, so switching partners wouldn’t help.”
You finally enter the dining hall, taking in the heated building before putting your stuff down in search of mediocre food.
༄ ༄ ༄
You spend the next few days catching up on any missing work, putting the project aside since you still have a month left to do it. You decide to use Sunday as your rest day, drained from the assignments you were able to get done. You still had many assignments left to do, but you could only do so much work and you were already feeling burnt out. Doing more work wouldn’t be eventful in any way.
You prepare for your day as normal, showering and throwing on a cute, weather appropriate, outfit as you make your way to the cafe on campus. You needed something better than the dining hall coffee for a change. You went there quite often, as you were high school friends with one of the baristas there. You smile as you spot him, walking up to the counter.
“Taehyun! How’ve you been?”
The boy beams brightly at you, loving your cheerful spirit upon seeing him.
“Y/N! I haven’t seen you for a couple days! I’m good, how are you? And, do you want your usual?”
“I know, I’ve been busy and broke. But I’m doing alright, just catching up on all of my assignments. And yes please.”
“Oh, that’s good at least! Also we have a new employee that I’m training so it might take a minute to get your order. Is that okay?”
“Yeah of course! Take your time. Thank you!”
You say, paying the balance of your meal and waiting at the end of the counter to get your food. You see a tall boy with red hair come out from the kitchen. You scoff to yourself as you recognize Yeonjun. ‘Of course he works here,’ you think. It takes him a couple of minutes to make your drink, still new to all the syrups and flavors that are available. As he finishes he calls out your name.
“Y/N!”
You walk up to him, remaining polite as you thank him for your order.
“Thank you.”
“Sorry if it took a while, it’s only my third day here.”
“It’s okay, thank you for the food!”
He stares at you and you’re about to grab your stuff and walk out, but he stops you.
“Wait, Y/N? Are you taking history 2204? With Professor X?”
“Yeah?”
You feign ignorance, pretending not to know who he is.
“Ah, I see. I’m Yeonjun. I think we’re partners for this project. It was nice to meet you.”
He says as he smiles. You felt a little guilty about your prejudiced dislike towards him. He seemed nice enough, so what if he smokes? And you couldn’t lie to yourself, finding his smile and crinkled eyes cute.
“Oh yeah! It’s nice to meet you too!”
“Can I give you my number? So we can discuss what days work for us to meet up and work on the project?”
You nod as you hand him your phone. You watch as he types away his number, smiling as he hands it back to you.
“Thank you, Yeonjun. I’ll text you my schedule and we can figure out what works then.”
He wished you a good day and you smile, finding his manners charming.
༄ ༄ ༄
A week had passed since you met Yeonjun at the cafe. You were officially back on track as you submitted the last of your missing assignments the night before, finally being able to focus your time and energy on this project. You had yet to message Yeonjun and you didn’t know why you were nervous to text him. You didn’t want to start off the messages awkwardly so you went with a simple yet forward message to start the conversation.
“Hey! This is Y/N from history class. You gave me your number last week at the cafe.”
You release the breath you were subconsciously holding, hitting ‘send’ and waiting for a response. You didn’t want it to seem like you were glued to your phone, waiting for him to message you back so you bide your time by doing other things around your space. Cleaning up your desk, putting away your clothes, etc.
You hear your phone go off, waiting a couple minutes to check who the message is from. You groan when it’s just one of your friends asking if you wanted to hang out later. You replied ‘sure,’ and went back to doing anything you could occupy yourself.
It had been a couple of hours since you messaged him and still no response. Now pissed that he hadn’t yet gotten back to you, you decided to get ready to go out with your friends. There was a party at a bar on campus and you allowed yourself to go out as a reward for completing all your assignments. Putting on some light makeup, you chose a rather revealing outfit despite the winter weather, assuming that it was probably going to be hot in the bar.
You met your friends there and all started with some drinks. You were talking about your days, just checking up on them. You had all been so busy with midterms coming up that you barely had time to hang out. After having about two more drinks, your friends dragged you onto the floor, dancing to whatever music the band was playing.
“Y/N!!”
You hear your name being called and turned around to find the source of the noise. You spot Taehyun and instantly your mood brightens up.
“Taehyun! I didn’t know you’d be here!”
“I wasn’t planning on coming but my friend asked me to come with him. I think you’ve met him before, Yeonjun? He’s the one that made your order a week ago.”
You grimace upon hearing his name. At first, you cut him some slack because he seemed nice enough. You felt guilty about judging him because he smoked. But after not messaging you all day and then hearing that he was at this party, you went back on your word, the idea of disliking him appealing to you again.
“Oh yeah, I know him. I remember meeting him last week.”
You say, emotionless.
“I want you to meet him again. And my other friends too, they’re all cool so I think you’ll like them.”
You trusted Taehyun so maybe you had to hold off on your hatred a little longer. Though you were good at using your words, your expression and body language always failed you, never being able to hide your negative emotions.
“These are my friends, Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu and Kai.”
“Hello, it’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N!”
“Ah yes, we’ve heard a lot about you. Taehyun told us how you guys were best friends in high school.”
Soobin said, his tall frame and black hair are easy on the eyes.
“Yeah, me and Terry go way back! It feels like we met just a year ago but it’s already been 7 years”
You say, laughing. Yeonjun chuckles at your comment, sipping at his beer.
“It’s nice to formally meet you Y/N. And I like your outfit, it suits you.”
You stare towards him is cold but your cheeks betray you, heating up at his compliment towards your outfit.
“Thank you…”
Your night goes on, hopping between your friend group and Taehyun and his friends. One by one, they all start to leave as you’re left with one of your friends, Taehyun and Yeonjun. You introduce them all to each other and stay at the party for a little longer before deciding to leave.
“I think I’m going to head back, Y/N. I’m tired and I have classes back to back tomorrow,”
Your friend says, gathering her things.
“Alright but you can’t walk back by yourself? It’s too dark and you know how dangerous it can be.”
You look around, trying to find a solution so that your friend doesn’t go back by herself.
“Taehyun! You live on this side of campus right? Can you walk back with her?”
Taehyun looks to your friend, who’s blushing a little as you try to help her out.
“Yeah sure but, what about you? You live on the opposite side so what are you gonna do?”
“I can walk her back. I live around there anyways. It would be no trouble, really.”
Yeonjun says, smiling as his eyes disappear. You mentally curse yourself for being left with Yeonjun, even though there was nothing else you can do about it. You all nod and go your separate ways, Taehyun with your friend and you with Yeonjun.
On your walk back to your dorm, Yeonjun fishes a lighter out of his pocket, using it to light the joint that was in his other hand. Taking a drag, you immediately smell the inebriating plant and walk faster. He can sense something off between the two of you, the tension weighing down the atmosphere.
“Did I do something to upset you? It just… seems like you don’t like me or don’t want me around?”
You stop in your tracks, having been walking in front of him this entire time and turn around to face him. You exhale loudly before starting:
“First of all, I was not in the best state when the professor announced we were working in random pairs for this project. Not really your fault but then I’m walking behind you as we leave class and you’re smoking! Let alone, the smoke blows into my face and I hate smoking, let alone people who smoke. Then I met you at the cafe and you seemed really nice so I gave you the benefit of the doubt and thought that maybe I judged you too quickly and then I felt guilty. But then this morning, I text you and you left me on delivered all day and then I find you here, at this party and now you’re walking me back to my dorm. So yeah, you can say I’m not really fond of you.”
You huff, the feeling of letting all of that off your chest almost euphoric. He puts his hand with the joint down next to him, taking his phone and checking his messages, and found that you did in fact text him and he didn’t read it.
“I’m sorry for not reading your message, I was busy all day and I’m not allowed to use my phone during work. And I do apologize for smoking in front of you, even though it blowing in your face isn’t my fault. But that’s it? I didn’t actually do anything to you, so what’s the judgment for? Why do you hate people who smoke?”
You didn’t want to stand in the cold any longer, and you didn’t want to have this conversation either. Really, you were avoiding his gaze because you really did have no valid reason to hate him. He never actually did anything to you. But you couldn’t back down now, otherwise you’d be embarrassed. You just huff as you turn on your heel, walking in the direction of your door, the rest of the walk back remaining silent.
He walks you up to your building. You feel your phone ding, grabbing it from your pocket to check the notification.
“I sent you my schedule. Let’s get this project done as quickly as we can so we don’t have to see each other again.”
You hang your head low, guilt hitting you like a truck at the sight of an upset and hurt Yeonjun waiting for you to walk in. Even though you told him that you didn’t like him straight to his face, he still had the courtesy of waiting for you to enter your building so he can say he waited until you were safe to leave. You look back at him one last time, feeling worse than before as you run in and take the stairs up to your room.
༄ ༄ ༄
You stare at Yeonjun’s schedule that sits in your messages, debating on whether or not you should ask your professor if you could work alone. You’re seriously contemplating it but ultimately decide that you should at least fix whatever you started, as it would be unfair to Yeonjun to leave him to do the project alone, though after your encounter last night, you’re sure he would appreciate not being your partner anymore.
“Hey. I’m free this weekend if you are to work on the project.”
His reply is almost immediate, like he had been waiting for you to text him back.
“Yeah, I’m free this weekend as well. Time and place?”
“Would you be comfortable coming over to my dorm at like 12 o’clock tomorrow? I want to apologize for the things I said and the way I acted…”
You bite your lip as you send the message, waiting for the rejection message to pop up.
“Sounds cool. I’ll see you at 12 tmr.”
No rejection? You were utterly surprised at this chance of redemption though, a little taken aback at how nonchalant he sounded. You lived in a single dorm so cleaning up wasn't that bad. You made sure to have plenty of snacks and drinks stocked in your mini fridge and made a little cozy corner for him to work in, while you would sit at your desk. You even made sure to text Taehyun and to ask what Yeonjun’s favorite drink was so you could have it ready for him when he arrived.
༄ ༄ ༄
You woke up early in the morning, getting ready for the day as you make your way to the cafe to pick up the drinks you had ordered for both yourself and Yeonjun.
“Hey Taehyun! Do you have those drinks ready for me?”
“Hey! Yeah I do. I have your usual and an iced americano for Yeonjun!”
The boy says, big eyes gleaming as he hands you the drinks.
“Thank you! I’ll see you later!”
You didn’t tell him about the events that transpired after the party, and from the looks of it Yeonjun hadn't told him anything either. You say your goodbyes and make your way to a little pop-up event on your campus. They were selling cookies and cupcakes to support their club, so you thought it would be a nice gesture to buy you and Yeonjun both a cookie and a cupcake each.
Struggling to open your door with all the treats in your hands, you manage to get inside of your room and put all your stuff down. You check the time to see that it’s only 11:30 a.m, relieved to see that you still had some time to yourself.
You hear a knock on your door a little bit later. You had sent Yeonjun the details of your dorm room before he got there but were still startled by the knock. You compose yourself, nervously opening the door to see a blank-faced Yeonjun staring back at you, this time wearing a loose sweater that hangs off his shoulder on one side, gray sweats and black, thick framed glasses.
“Hey Yeonjun. Come in, I have some things prepared.”
He nods as he walks in, slipping off his shoes at the little welcome mat you have placed in front of the door. The dorm itself is pretty small, enough for one person but it could still comfortably afford a guest.
“First of all, I want to start with a verbal apology. I’m sorry for being prejudiced against you based on your smoking habits. And I’m sorry for lashing out on you last night when you asked a valid question. I know it wasn’t your fault that the smoke blew into my face and I guess I was just anxious about this project and texting you that I didn’t even stop to think and consider the fact that you could’ve been busy and didn’t have time to check your phone. Secondly, I asked Taehyun what your favorite drink at the cafe was so I got you an iced americano, and a cookie and cupcake from the fundraiser one of the clubs on campus is having.”
You shyly hand over the cup with his drink and the snacks that were packed into a little plastic box. He takes the snacks out of your hand and for the first time all week, you relax your shoulders as Yeonjun smiles, accepting your apology and finding it cute in the process.
“Thank you Y/N. I know you don’t know me and I don’t know what your deal with hating smoking is, but I accept and appreciate the apology nonetheless. Shall we get started?”
You nod as you instruct him to put his stuff down in the little workspace you created for him, a small throw pillow and fox blanket resting on the inflatable chair you had blown up for him to make use of. He chuckles at the cute setup, settling his stuff down and getting comfy to start working.
༄ ༄ ༄
Throughout your working session, you had some conversation here and there when things got boring or you ran into a particularly difficult part of the project. A couple hours into working you both decide to tap out, noticing the time and finding that you had been working for 6 hours straight.
“Oh my god, it’s been 6 hours!”
You say, surprised that you were able to focus on the same assignment for so long though, to your credit, it felt like many different assignments bundled into one.
“Damn, I didn’t even notice how late it was. That wasn’t so bad actually.”
Yeonjun says, getting up to stretch his legs, americano and snack box empty as you both refused to leave the room to eat lunch. He picked up his trash, throwing it in the garbage before returning to his corner, looking at you before asking you a question you didn’t think he’d ask:
“Would you ever try it? Smoking I mean?
You stare at him blankly. Your immediate answer was no. Smoking is bad for you, it can cause illness or death. But when you opened your mouth to answer, you didn’t expect this to come out:
“Maybe one day?”
You’re speechless yourself at your answer. You were so adamant on hating smoking and never wanting to try it. What about Yeonjun asking you made you change your answer? Was it the way he so confidently stood up to you last night? Or the way he walked you to your dorm despite learning about your true feelings for him at the time? Or the way you wanted him to find you different from the character you first gave off, the one that judged him for smoking in the first place? As if he could see the inner struggle etched onto your face he remarks,
“I thought you hated smoking? What makes you want to try it?”
Your face heats up at your own silence, but you respond anyway.
“I do hate it. And I actually don’t want to try it. I don't know why I said that. But why do you smoke in the first place?”
You ask, trying to change the subject to be towards him. Catching onto your little trick, he humors you.
“It’s a relaxing way to unwind after a stressful day. Sit back, throw on a movie and take a couple hits and you’re there. Relaxed as can be with no other care in the world. You should try it, maybe then you won’t be as tightly wound.”
You scoff at his little jab at you towards the end of his explanation. You couldn’t lie, with the way he was explaining it to you, the idea of smoking did sound very enticing. But nonetheless, you were willing to stand your ground on this topic, after all, this whole situation you were in with Yeonjun stemmed from your hatred towards smoking and you weren’t going to back down now.
“As if. And I am not tightly wound, thank you very much. Maybe you can’t tell because you’re brain fried from all the weed you smoke.”
Thinking your remark has granted you victory in this argument, Yeonjun smirks, offering you a challenge.
“Try it. Prove me wrong that you won’t feel relaxed. That it won’t make you feel like a weight has been temporarily lifted off of you.”
He reached down into his bag, pulling out a metal box and setting it on your desk. Upon clicking it open, the smell of weed immediately wafts through the room, filling your nose and causing you to cough slightly.
“Do you mind not opening that up in my room? We’re not supposed to smoke in the dorms anyways!”
You said, grabbing air freshener to dilute the smell of the weed.
“Relax, it's fine. Plus the hall directors on this floor all do it too, so they won’t care.”
You scoff as he takes a seat, carefully grinding the bud so as not to get any on your desk. He then fiddles with the contraption used to pack the weed into the paper, sealing it off after having packed it fully.
“I’ll demonstrate how to do it and then you take a hit, okay?”
You gulp nervously, teetering between the idea of kicking him out or waiting to see how this all plays out. Were you really going to get high because a cute boy challenged you? You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts as you see him flick open the lighter, the smell of burning paper replacing the smell of weed in your nose. He lets it burn for a while, opening your window in the process.
“When you take a hit, blow out of the window otherwise you’ll set off the fire alarm.”
You mock a smile as he laughs, bringing the joint up to his lips as he takes a small inhale. You watch as the fibers of the paper burn, the weed contents turning gray. You analyze the way he takes the hit and hold it in his throat for a second before slowly blowing the cloud of smoke out of the window.
“Your turn.”
He passes you the joint, as your clammy hands impatiently reach for it. You look at him one more time nervously, bringing the joint up to your mouth and inhaling. You don’t know how fast you ripped it, throat burning and violently coughing as Yeonjun scrambles in your fridge to bring you a bottle of water. You chug the water to stop your coughs, handing the joint back to him as you catch your breath.
“Nothing about that was relaxing in any way.”
“That’s because you did it too fast. Look, watch me. You slowly inhale, don’t let the feeling of it in your throat bother you otherwise you’ll start to cough.”
You hold a little grudge in your stare, cursing at the fact that you were so easily convinced to try the one thing you spited and how your resolve crumbles so easily before your very eyes. You watch him bring the joint up to his lips again, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat before taking another hit. This time you watch how he holds it in his mouth, counting the seconds before he blows it out.
“Think you got it this time?”
You take the joint from his hand, silently reassuring him that you’d be fine. You try again, this time slowly inhaling. Remember his words from just a few moments ago, you let the particles settle in your throat for a moment, slightly inhaling before releasing the breath, successfully blowing the smoke out of the window. You look up at Yeonjun with big eyes and a proud smile.
“I still don’t feel relaxed.”
“You will in about 3 more hits and 15 minutes.”
You continue to pass the joint to each other, careful not to rip it too fast or inhale too much. You can feel your eyes start to get a little droopy, a constant smile appearing on your face as you feel your body loosen. You feel slower but not heavy as you turn to Yeonjun and start giggling.
“I can tell that you’re starting to feel it now. Gonna tell me you don’t feel relaxed?”
You nod, giggling at his smile. The longer you stare at him, the cuter you think he is. Even in your high state, you couldn’t blame the weed for the attraction you felt for the red-haired man. Maybe you were starting to form a little crush. You think about the sweater he’s wearing, how his neck and collarbone are so perfectly on display, longing to be nipped at. Or the way the glasses make him look more sophisticated and smart, you did like nerdy looking boys. And the way his thick lips wrapped around the joint, eyes following his every move as he takes another drag. You couldn’t help the way you were rubbing your thighs together, the idea of his lips on yours creating a need to form within you. He looks at you, dumbfounded as he himself is now high as well.
“How are you feeling Y/N? Do you feel good? Do you feel relaxed?”
This time, you could blame the weed for what you say next:
“I feel great. I would feel even better if you kissed me.”
You laugh at your own comment, finding Yeonjun’s shocked expression priceless and thus further causing you to laugh. You allowed yourself to be bold, not knowing when again you’d have this opportunity.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Y/N. You’re high right now and so am I. Neither of our judgments can be trusted right now.”
He tries to play the mature, responsible role. He was the one that got you high so he felt responsible for any and all actions made by you or towards you by himself. But the slight, ever-growing tent in his pants was giving him away, revealing that he was not as grounded in his resolve as he wanted to be.
“What? You don’t believe me? Should I prove it to you?”
You take his previous words of challenge and use it against him, playing him at his own game. You walk up to him slowly, eyes red and droopy as you stare into his. You place your hand on his chest, tippy toeing to try to reach up to his lips.
“Help me out a little?”
As if all rhyme and reason was thrown out the window, Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to lean down, capturing your lips with his own. He throws one arm around your waist, the other carefully holding the joint so as not to get any ash over your floor. Your hands remain on his chest as your lips move slowly in sync, breaths heavy from the temporarily shortened capacity of your lungs. You still feel a burn every time you inhale, but it’s worth it for the way Yeonjun has you feeling right now; completely relaxed and carefree.
He pulls away for a second, grabbing your hand with his free one and placing the joint in between your lips, guiding you to take a hit before he puts it in the metal box with his other weed essentials. His eyes watch you in awe as you close your eyes to take the hit. He pulls you onto his lap as he takes a seat on your desk chair and you happily follow, hands around the nape of his neck as you play with the hairs there. You take your time holding the smoke in and he kisses you again, running his hands along your sides, squeezing as you gasp, letting the smoke out from your mouth into his. He takes the opportunity to gently slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan at the contact, grinding down a bit into his thigh. Your mouth is dry, partly due to the cotton mouth you're experiencing, and partly due to the nerves that had worked their way into your body when you decided to be bold and admit to wanting to kiss him.
He licks the inside of your mouth before pulling away a little to suck on your tongue, teeth grazing it as he pulls away to trails kisses down your jaw and neck. You’re panting out of breath at his actions, the wetness between your legs only growing as you feel his hard-on press against the side of your thigh. You giggle as he nips a particularly ticklish spot on your neck, the effects of the weed present and causing him to giggle as well.
“Can I kiss your neck?”
“Well when you ask so nicely…”
He laughs, pulling away from your neck and tilting his head to the side, granting you permission to mark him up. You lean down, lightly nipping at his milky skin, biting around the area of his collarbones and he rests his hands on your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. Your little whimpers at the contact only turn him on more, hard cock throbbing against his sweats as you eye the clear outline of them. Pulling back to look at your little marks, you’re satisfied as you pull him into your lips once again, this time more hungry. His hands that were settled on your hips move to grab your ass, squeezing as he presses you down harder on his thigh. Your moans are drowned out by his lips as the makeout becomes heavier and messier, saliva escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping down your chin. He pulls away first, admiring your red and puffy lips with a dazed smile. He stands you up, grabbing the joint and taking a big hit, holding it as his hands sweetly caress your face and he gives you another kiss, letting the smoke cascade into your mouth as you try your best to inhale and not choke. He smirks watching the excess smoke slip between your mouths, putting down the remainder of the joint and feeling you up underneath your shirt.
“No bra?”
“I was in here all day. There was no need for it.”
You respond simply, taking a step back to fully take your shirt off, giggling as you watch his eyes open dramatically at the sight of your bare tits, nipples hardened as a result of the cold air. He pushes you against your desk, leaning you back over it as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, not even bothering to get you both on the bed. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud. You moan at the contact, harshly gripping his hair as he grazed his teeth against them. He takes the chance to slide his hands down the waistband of your pants, settling just above your pussy.
“Yeonjun…”
Your whimpers turn him on further as he begins rubbing circles on your clit through your panties and you throw your head back at the sheer amount of pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. He switches his attention from one nipple to the other, trading his fingers up and down your slit, feeling the wetness collect on the fabric separating his fingers from your heat. You don’t realize your grip has gotten impossibly tighter, accidentally pushing his head further into your chest, not that he minded.
“You’re rough, I like it.”
He pulls his head away from your chest and you whine at the loss of contact, the warmth his hold brought you being replaced by the cooling of his saliva all over your boobs. He pulls you close enough to him to help you take off your pants and underwear, sitting you back down on your desk as he admires your glistening lips, sliding down both his sweats and his boxers.
He goes over to his bag and pulls out a condom before rolling it on to his painfully hard erection.
“You just carry condoms on you at all times?”
“It came in handy, didn’t it?”
He smirks at your failed attempt at being snarky, grabbing your waist as he slides the head between your folds. Your arms rest on his shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as the other twiddles with the necklace he has on.
“You tease too much…”
Yeonjun guides you back and forth on his dick, relishing in the little yet satisfying pleasure he’s giving himself right now. One hand rests on your pelvis, thumb reaching down to circle your clit as you hiss, biting your lip to suppress the moan you desperately want to let out.
“Please Yeonjun…”
Your begging only made it harder for him to resist you, slowly bringing the head down to your sopping entrance, groaning as he pushes it past your walls.
“Fuck you’re so tight. Gotta stretch you out on my cock.”
You wince as he pushes himself in deeper, releasing a sigh of content as he fully sheathes himself inside you. He keeps his thumb on your clit, the speed of his actions constant.
“Y-you can move now…”
He moves slowly, still letting you adjust before moving at a more constant pace. You’re mindful of the moans pushing past your open lips, finding it hard to contain them as he sets a firm rhythm. You look down beside you and pick up what’s left of the joint. Yeonjun takes note of your actions, holding you steady with both of his hands as you grab the lighter to reignite the substance. You bring it to your lips once again, letting the effect of the weed wash over you, reveling in the heightened effect of the drug.
You hold the joint up to Yeonjun’s mouth, smiling lazily as he takes a hit, his hips never stopping their relentless pounding into your pussy. He attaches his lips to your neck once again allowing the smoke to escape and you to stabilize yourself while his thumb goes back to circling your clit, this time much faster than before. He also speeds up thrusts, the volume of your moans increasing as his harsh thrusts knock the desk back into the wall over and over again. You’re afraid of the amount of noise you’re making, worried about whether or not your neighbors can hear the scandalous sounds coming from your room, but all worry flies out the window when Yeonjun leans you back, bringing your hips up to a whole new angle for him.
“Yeonjun!!”
You scream as his tip hits your spot so deliciously, legs wrapping around him, pulling him that much closer. He chuckles as your face scrunches up, indicative of your close release. He can’t help but to move faster, pistoning his hips at an incredible speed, one that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as a gush of liquid comes rushing out of you.
“Yeah that’s it, squirt all over my cock for me. Let it all out…”
You’re so high that you barely even register the fact that you just squirted all over him, creating a mess on your floor. Your feelings only seem to intensify as the overstimulation kicks in, sensitive walls clenching down on him as your second orgasm approaches you quickly, his fingers still working your clit.
“I’m… I’m gonna cum again… Y-yeonjun please…”
Your whines come out broken and sporadic, not sure how much more you can take.
“Hold on for me a little longer baby, I’m almost there.”
You nod as you pull his head back down to you, kissing him one last time as he nails his final thrust, hips stilling in you as he feels himself fill the condom. Your pants and sighs fill the now smokey room.
“I didn’t know you could squirt like that baby girl. You’re so fucking hot”
He carefully pulls out of you, making sure not to let any cum seep out of the condom. You wince as he pulls out, legs feeling like jelly as you release him from your hold. After discarding the condom, he quickly reaches for the napkins you have sitting on top of the fridge, cleaning you up before kneeling on the cold floor to wipe up any remnants of your release.
“You look good when you’re on your knees,”
You say playfully, biting your lip as you watch him clean your floor.
“I was right.”
Your head feels empty and you’re slightly tingly. The high you were having definitely intensified the feeling you were having during sex but it did nothing to help jog your memory.
“What are you talking about”
“Have you already forgotten”
You shrug as you jump off the desk, using his shoulder to help ground yourself as your legs recover from their jelly-like state and proceed to put your clothes back on.
“I told you that smoking would help you feel more relaxed. I guess in your case it also helped you be more bold.”
Your usual eye roll was replaced by a giggle.
“Did I really say that? I guess I had no idea what I was talking about?”
He laughs with you as he finishes cleaning the floor, pulling his pants back on before putting his weed materials away, shirtless.
You keep staring at him, realizing that you were too high and too needy to notice his toned abs before.
“I can send you a picture of them if you want? You don’t have to keep staring at me like that.”
He pulls his sweater over his head to which you pout, upset that your view was now covered.
“Relax, you’ll see them again the next time we do this.”
“Next time?”
You couldn’t say that you hated the feeling of being high, but maybe you weren’t in the right mind to be making decisions like that.
“Yeah? Next time we work on the project we can get high and do this again. It was fun.”
He puts his stuff away in his bag, leaving it on your inflatable chair. He wasn’t just gonna leave you after fucking you whilst you were still high.
“We got a pretty good portion of the project done today. We don’t even have to meet up to finish out individual parts.”
You say, reminding him about your 6 hour grind to finish as much of the project as you could.
“What are you trying to say?”
He says while fixing his glasses and hair in your mirror.
“I’m saying the next time we meet we don’t have to do work.”
He makes eye contact with you through the mirror, his smirk hard to hide at your insinuation.
“You dirty girl. So bold when you’re high, only want me over to have sex.”
“Well… to have sex and get high! I do enjoy your presence but I’ve never felt so good before. That was like heaven.”
Even though he didn’t know you that well, he could tell the effects of the weed were still strong on you, watching you yap away, knowing you probably won’t remember this conversation in the morning. He just laughs at your comment as you put your stuff away.
You watch as he goes back to his seat, moving his bag back to the floor. You walk up to him, sitting down on his lap. You tangle your fingers in his hair, staring at his lips again, which are also swollen. His eyes follow your gaze and he throws his head back in laughter, scaring you a little as you flinch at unexpected sound.
“You’re still horny?”
“What makes you say that?”
You play dumb as if you weren’t just drooling over his lips.
“But we just put our clothes back on!”
He whines, fixing your position so that you’re properly straddling him.
“Yeah but, you aren’t gonna reject me right? Not when I’m high and needy because of you?”
You feign your best soft voice and puppy eyes, trying your best to hold back from laughing in his face at your own antics. Yeonjun takes your face in his hand, giving you a sweet smile.
“No of course not, that would make me a monster.”
He says, pulling you back in for another kiss as you settle in. Maybe smoking a little bit of weed wasn’t so bad after all.
#starrihan#txt#txt smut#yeonjun#yeonjun smut#choi yeonjun#choi yeonjun smut#tomorrow by together#tomorrow by together smut#tomorrow x together#tomorrow x together smut#kpop#kpop smut#kpop imagine#yeonjun x reader#choi yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x reader smut#choi yeonjun x reader smut
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presenting a fic by @FLEURYUNS
kiss me
IN WHICH trapped in a tower and controlled by your father your entire life, jay helps you come up with a plan to finally escape
PAIRING ⟡ guard!jay x heiress!femreader
UNIVERSE ⨯ tangled au (minus the long hair)
WARNINGS ⟡ depictions of a controlling parent (not in detail), fluff, kissing, inspired by anthony and johanna from sweeney todd
WORD COUNT ⨯ 1.8k
AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . wrote this after watching sweeney todd live and was inspired by the lovers’ storyline… so here’s this! title (and subtitles in the header) taken from kiss me from the musical
You wait until your father is out of sight, walking through the thick vines that separate you from the real world, before you rush to the main window and slide the key down. Leaning over the ledge, you watch the silver key shine with the sunlight all the way down, before it lands with a ting! onto the rocks below.
Without a word, the guard bends down to pick up what fell at his feet, not looking up, or making a face that tells what he’s thinking. Then, he turns and heads to the front door.
Hearing the door unlock and open downstairs, you decide to wait for him on the couch, anxiously fiddling with your hands as you listen to his footsteps coming up.
Your father delivered the news as soon as he came home from his overnight hunt. He’s found someone for you—You’ll be married off in two moons.
To be married off means to be taken away from the tower, only to be locked in a legally binding prison with a man you know nothing about. You’ve had enough and need to get out of here.
Jay has worked for your father since his own parents passed away. It’s his only way of making a living in these harsh times, he can’t even protest the grotesqueness of his position. As a guard, he stands post at the bottom of the tower to assure no one comes in and no one comes out. Nobody even knows of the tower’s existence, let alone of the heiress that lives in it, so it isn’t a difficult task. Though, it is daunting.
Within the first week, you tried to escape twice before accepting that this new guard will take his job just as seriously as the previous worker. You frowned. He did too.
After another week, you decided to start sending him letters through paper cranes you’d throw out the window. There’s no reason for you to try not to at least make a friend—He was much younger than any of the other guards, so this was your chance. It took him four days before he bent down and read one.
“What’s your name?” That was the first thing he asked you.
Looking over to make sure your father wasn’t around to hear the interaction go through, you leaned over the window’s edge and yelled a reply. “Y/N, I’m D/N’s daughter.”
He didn’t respond, simply nodded and went back to staring off at the big vines, waiting for his employer to come back from his hunts.
After a month of these exchanges, growing lengthier by the day, you pushed the key off the ledge for the first time.
“What’s this,” Jay had asked, examining it under the light.
You watched the light refracture off of it from the window. “The key to the front door. It only works from the outside.”
“I hope you’re not asking me to let you out.” His voice was stern. “That’s asking for both of our heads to end up on sticks, if not worse.”
You grimaced at the visual. “No… My father will be out for another few hours. That’s his spare key which only works from the outside. Do with it what you will.” Keeping it vague and leaving it at that, you stepped away from the window, hoping he received your unspoken message.
It took him two other days to figure it out.
From then on, while your father was away, Jay would come up the tower and spend a few hours with you. You’ve never done something so scandalous, but it felt so freeing.
You would do whatever you could in here. Although the space was limited, and there really wasn’t much to actually do, you managed to get creative, inspired by the new friend you’ve made.
Sometimes he would teach you to cook new meals.
(Your father would ask how you learned to cook like this, you would reply it was all from your head.)
Sometimes he’d teach you to play the guitar, using crafting strings you’d attach to the chairs to create faux-guitar strings.
Other times, you would teach him how to draw.
(”Did you make this?” your father asked one night. You simply hummed.)
Once, you even taught him about the constellations, the first time your father’s hunt went through the night. You were sitting by the ledge, pointing at the stars.
Your father came back to the tower unexpectedly that night. Jay had to cling down the tower from the outside. His employer was rushing up the steps below completely unaware of their visitor. When he found you leaning against the window, he grumbled something about you failing to escape it by jumping off. Coward, he called you. You told him you were going to bed early.
Even though you’ve still been bound to these achingly familiar walls, spending time with Jay felt like you were in a new world. His jokes made you laugh out loud like you were the only girl in the world, and you might’ve been. He’d look into your eyes as if they were brighter than every constellation in the sky, but you knew that couldn’t be true because his eyes held the brightest stars.
You know your father doesn’t even have a hunch of your friendship with the guard, not a single suspicion—He’s not the brightest man on the block, and that’s saying something considering, before Jay, he was the only man you’ve ever known. And yet, he marched in this morning to tell you to prepare for the wedding.
Two moons. In two days, you’ll be a married woman.
You can’t have that.
Jay comes bursting through the door with a smile. “Good morning, M’Lady,” he greets.
“Hello, Jay,” you respond solemnly. You can’t find the strength to hide your disappointment.
“What’s wrong?” Of course, he sees right through you.
So, you motion him to the couch and waste no time in telling him the horrible news. Not missing out any details. The glint in your father’s eyes, indicating that he must be getting a fair sum of money out of this. The drop in your stomach when the words left his mouth. Your fear of not only leaving Jay, but being trapped once more and never being able to leave.
He understands, you see. His eyes look into yours comfortingly. “You want to leave?”
You nod. “Tonight,” you specify. “I’ll pack my bags right now. My father won’t return until the sunset, that gives me plenty of time. We’ll make some food to bring, as well, in case I don’t find somewhere to stay. Blankets, too. I’m not sure how long I’ll be away, where I’ll be, but—”
“Kiss me.”
“I want you to come with me.”
“Kiss me.”
You smile up at him.
He takes your hands in his. He repeats, “Kiss me.”
“Kiss me?”
Bashfully, Jay turns away, still keeping your hands locked in his comfortably. His cheeks redden, you notice. You can’t hide your smile.
You reach up to his face, holding his cheek in your hand and turning his head to face yours again.
His smile shies, but not away. “I love you, Y/N. I want to keep you safe, I want to help you see the world you’re missing out on. It’s so beautiful, Y/N, you’ll love it.”
Tears well up in your eyes and you’re not sure why. You see Jay’s eyes get teary as well and you let a giggle escape. “I want to see it with you,” you tell him in a whisper. “Show it to me.”
You spend the day running from corner to corner, wall to wall, pulling apart the only place you’ve ever known and stuffing your memories into a bag. You only take your happiest memories with you, leaving the living nightmares behind, shoving them under the bed to never see again.
Jay is in the kitchen for the most part. He puts together meals that don’t require being kept in a fridge, first, then adding in the refrigerated foods into bags, last. He tells you that the two of you will need to prioritize these foods. “I’ll take care of it.”
“We’ll take care of it together,” you assure him, closing the tupperware for him.
In total, you have two bags of your things and one of food. It’s heavy, but worth it. “We can take Hemi,” you say. Your father didn’t take the horse today, you noticed. He only does when the hunts are far. “He’ll carry my things.”
The two of you come up with a game plan. If your father isn’t too far out, that means that the most difficult part would be getting out of the city, but once you’re out, you’ll be free from him. Jay knows enough of the city, so he’s to take the lead and guide you through the hidden streets to not draw too much attention—Last thing either of you need is being spotted by a commoner who’s nosy enough to spread gossip that’ll reach your father.
With the bag on your shoulders, you say goodbye to this life. This life of misery, of suffocation. You say goodbye to the younger version of yourself; The version of yourself who had hope. The version that lost it. You’re proud to be the version that gained it once more.
You take a hold of Jay’s hand as you make your way down the spiral staircase. He opens the door for you, while you stand in awe at the light shining through it.
“Woah,” you whisper, taking your first steps outside. “It’s…”
“Beautiful,” Jay finishes, though you don’t notice his eyes are on you, instead of the scenery.
There’s a rose bush growing from where the vines come down to. You never knew they could smell so fragrant. The grass hasn’t been cut in a while, it reaches above your shoes, tickling your calves. You almost wish you weren’t wearing shoes to really feel it. You want to roll around in it for hours.
You hum, closing your eyes. There’s a light breeze. You take a deep breath to take it all in. “All of this was underneath my nose all these years…”
You’ve always known your father was a cruel man, but knowing that he kept something, everything so heart wrenchingly beautiful just out of reach from you, taunting you without even knowing it. You frown.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jay suggests, feeling the shift in the air. He takes your hand once more and gestures toward the barn. Hemi snorts from the inside.
“Wait,” you say, pulling him back toward you. “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
Jay places his hands on your cheeks and leans down to meet your lips.
It’s magical, so much more than you expected. With your eyes shut, you feel a flush of something familiar running underneath your skin. You press your body against his through the kiss.
You realize, the worst thing your father kept from you has been in your hold this entire time.
Now you know to never let him go.
#fleuryuns#sol writes#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen ff#enhypen#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#kpop fanfic#enha#enhypen jay#enhablr#enha x reader#enha scenarios#enha imagines#enha fluff#enha jay#jay enhypen#enhypen jay ff#enhypen jay fluff#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen jay fanfic#jay x reader#jay fluff#jay fic#jay fanfic#jay ff#jay enhypen fic#jay enhypen fanfic#jay enhypen ff
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so, why did I delete my old blog? The short answer is I banned yin-shimo/tianshi88 from my now defunct occult simblr server and his friends proceeded to spin a narrative on tumblr that was false. In the moment it was not worth it to me fight back, but I am back and I am fighting for what I think is right–sharing what happened and why we chose to ban him in the first place.
If you want the full details, I am going to lay it out under the cut but bare with me, I have never had to defend myself like this, and never thought I would. You can view this as drama or whatever, idc. I just want to say my peace and not have to think nor talk about this ever again.
Also, do not harass the mods if you know who they were. Do not harass anyone shown in the screenshots, they are only shown here for transparency sake.
cw: homophobic rhetoric, harassment, sexualization of a minor mention
A few months ago I made the occult simblr, baby! discord server. It was public so anyone could join and there was no way for me to guess how many people would end up joining! (Almost 80!) I am thankful for the learning experience but it ended on a sour note.
One of the users who joined goes by tianshi88/yin-shimo, a known cc creator in occult simmer circles, but to be frank, I was completely unaware of this person until yin-shimo joined my server and occasionally talked.
Some time goes by, and one of the mods suggests we create a server blog to reblog our users’ content! I say yes. It was a good idea, but an anonymous ask came in (screenshot below). This is where things go south. I made the call to reply publicly, which I regret, but only because a few people made it way more trouble than what it was worth.
So let's talk about the claims and what we (the mod team at the time and myself) found out—the initial post by yooniesim (link to his post about it, which he gave me permission to link here!) The allegation is about sexualization of a fictionalized minor in the anime/manga Blue Lock. Yin-shimo himself claims this pose is done by the character in the media itself. The character in question is a teenager. I hate that I am explaining this here but ahegao is essentially a sexual pose from hentai (anime porn). It is my opinion that media portrayal of this kind of thing is weird at best, dangerous at worst. The fact that it is a reference to it is a problem in of itself, but ultimately we decided this behavior was weird (as well as his actions following the initial callout about it) and it was best to remove him from the server and we made a brief statement in the server given the circumstances surrounding it. I do not have the screenshot for this server announcement nor our reply, but nowhere did in the original ask nor in the replies we made as mods, did anyone call him a pedophile. We stated “sexualized a fictional character” because that’s what it was.
However, worth noting there are other things he has done, which imo are worse than what I am detailing here, as referenced in Yoonie’s linked post, that added to the decision to ban him, which can be triggering to read about, so fair warning!
The next day I considered deleting the ask of the blog to not create drama out of something serious, but I didn't before I received a reply from puppycheesecake.
I do not have the screenshot but they essentially accused us of framing him as a pedophile–this is where I became aware of yin-shimo’s sexuality/pronouns for the first time and said we were participating in a witch hunt of a gay man started by “one person” ( the anon).
My response was to delete the ask and block them. I would have responded and told them to stop lying, because that’s what they were doing. But as a queer person, being accused of that triggered me on top of everything else so I deleted the ask and the mods and I made the decision to make a second statement to tie up loose ends in the server. We turned off anon asks on that blog, and the day after i decide to take a break, what happens?
This reblog of a shitpost on my personal blog, on a post in which I am talking about how much I love simblr shows up in my notifications—
That was the moment I was done. You’re not going to come onto my blog with lies and try to spin a narrative when it’s very clear you are more interested in protecting your friend than what is true.
most of the mods, including me, are trans/queer, so fuck off with that “gay man is a pedophile” narrative that you’re weaponizing.
I didn't know yin-shimo’s pronouns nor sexuality, nor did it come up when the mods and I made the decision to ban him from the server.
This behavior is childish–something like this should have never happened in an 18+ server, nor should this have turned into drama, and yet here we are.
As for “only one person” (as referenced by puppycheesecake)—once we made the call to ban him, several people came forward to tell us his presence made them uncomfortable in the server, so I think we made the right decision in the end.
Ultimately, yin-shimo is upset he has to face consequences for his own actions and used his friends—neither of which were in the server—to do his dirty work.
I regret answering the question publicly but I am not sorry for banning him, nor will I apologize for what we did not do–which is what is alleged in what context I have provided. I am going to reiterate that not once did the mods call him a pedophile.
To everyone else, it is up to you how you want to curate your online space and who you want to interact with. I am not making that decision for you, but hopefully this clears things up.
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Can i hear a little about your Smallville DR?
I started watching the show this month and now i want one too
YESSS OFC i have an intro post for it coming up whenever i get to writing it but until then here’s a yap sesh of some of the basics :
— JADE’S SMALLVILLE DR ( yap yap )
⋆。°✩ ⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ ✩°。⋆ ⋆。°✩ ⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆ ✩°
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・
moving from Louisiana to Smallville, Kansas is one of the biggest vibe changes you can get from small town to small town—swapping out the mosquitos, glowing ember fireflies and weathered cobblestone for miles and miles of cornfields and more evergreen tractors on the roads than cars
moving in with my Aunt Vi and Uncle Donnie into their little cornflower blue farmhouse with a wrap around porch and planning on spending weekends helping out at their family business, DEARBORNE ORCHARDS, which boasts a few acres of bustling apple orchards around the back of their property
of course, apple season is starting just as SMALLVILLE HIGH is reconvening. after all, that was one of the conditions for the move—attend school there for my senior year while i’m working at the orchard
i split my time evenly between the Smallville Crows cheerleading team and The Torch, the school newspaper that CHLOE SULLIVAN offers me a spot on shortly after i arrive. of course, by “split my time evenly” i mean pitching my pom-poms into my locker with a glittery clang and dead sprinting halfway across campus to make it to the newspaper room in time for Chloe’s pep talk—i cut it close, sometimes earning a squinty glance from her, but i always make it
Chloe and i get along almost too well, with her practically cornering me during my first week at school to “get some answers.” (i’ve got nothing to hide, but something tells me she was just itching to put my arrival on her Wall of Weird.) she’s plenty welcoming once she realizes i’m not one of the “strange town occurrences.” (thanks, i guess?)
once she invites me to join the Torch i start my own column called APPLE'S CORE—you know, the typical ramblings and stuff. ‘new in Smallville’, ‘weird stuff going on in town’, ‘what color should we paint the walls of The Talon?’ still, Chloe says it’s “fresh and new”, and the two of us spend countless late nights in the newspaper room working on the next issue, fingers flying across the loud keyboards and chewed-lips illuminated by the dim glow of the boxy desktop monitors
with Chloe, of course, comes CLARK KENT. he picks up bales of hay at his family’s farm across the street (with one arm), i stare at him from the gravel driveway of my own house. he gets slammed into at football practice and doesn’t move, just grins. i stare. he doesn’t notice—he never notices. he’s clueless and always visibly preoccupied with something else. it’s like his mind is always elsewhere—there with you, talking to you, but never quite. i chew at the end of my pencil as i’m scribbling out the first draft of my next column, trying to focus on homecoming instead of where Clark’s mind could be going when he gets that faraway look in his eyes
i'm too close to everything for them to keep me away, though—Chloe's Wall of Weird, all of her suspicions, Clark Kent and the fact that his shirt isn't just popping at the buttons with muscles, but secrets, too. LEX LUTHOR and the depths of the Luthor Mansion, which is a gleaming sanitary cave compared to the rugged warmth of the rest of Smallville. i know something is up nearly the moment i pull up into town—is it because it's obvious, or because i hear things? too many things, as a matter of fact
the METEOR tugs at the strings of my head, making everything entirely too loud. i get headaches in class and bury my head in my arms, avoiding the conspiratorial squints of Chloe and the concerned eyes of Clark. i know they’re trying to figure out what’s going on in Smallville, and the last thing i need is for them to figure out i have some banshee-freak SONIC ABILITIES—i have cheerleading practice and approximately zero time to deal with that
to be continued in the intro post :^)
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.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・..・゜゜・ ・゜゜・
#asks <3#jade’s smallville dr 🍎#shifting motivation#reality shifting#shiftblr#shifting antis dni#shifting blog#shifters#shifting script#shifting aesthetic#shiftinconsciousness#shifting consciousness#shift#shifting realities#shifting#shifting community#shifting diary#shifting to smallville#smallville shifting#smallville dr
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inspired by this post
#marshall d. teach#one piece#my art#edward newgate#blackbeard#whitebeard#this is from months ago and i never posted it here. whatever just gonna post it for the few who care for a bit of angst involving bb#there isnt enough stuff out there focusing on his relationship with wb who you know... is his dad#shtty drawing but yea not interested in going back to it#ive wanted to draw more about wb and bb for a while but havent#ill probably compile some old drawings later that i never posted to tumblr and post it here#just remembered this was based on a post i read by labyrinthofdreams
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Omega! Logan who was born in the 1800s when secondary gender roles were very prevalent but it actually really suited him and he wanted to be a home maker and have a bunch of pups but he was always too big and hairy and and not seen as a good Omega. Alphas would sleep with him but never treat him the way they would a “proper” omega and they didn’t ever want anything serious because it’s like almost shameful to have a big hairy omega.
Then times change and Omegas start breaking out of the cookie cutter roles and they go into the work force and what not (feminism but it’s omegas) and Logan is very happy for them he thinks they all deserve the right to choose, but still no one wants him. And everyone expects him being an omega with the way he looks to be at the forefront of the movement to want the change for himself, but he doesn’t.
And over the years he toughened up and stops looking to start a family and put his dreams on the back burner to become what everyone expected of him.
And then everything happens and all the sudden Logan finds himself in a universe without secondary genders, where he isn’t a too big and hairy omega, he’s just some guy.
And unintentionally he finds his way into the role he’s always craved, where he takes care of the home and the dog while Wade makes the money, and it’s the closest he’s ever been to the life he wanted. He mostly retires from fighting and heroing, but now he’s ready for a new challenge. And being near Laura has only served to dig up that old desire and instinct he tried to bury so long ago
And I mean, even if the mutant hate wasn’t as bad as it is in Logan’s old world there was still a time here not to long ago when mutants were ran out and scattered around the world. And now with the people at Xavier’s working on getting the Mutants back into the city trying to re group with their still dwindling numbers. I mean Logan and Wade should help with the mutant re population efforts, who better to do that then two very eager immortals who can heal from anything and with a whole gang of friends around them for free child care.
#I just think Wade should get Logan pregnant over and over again#barefoot and pregnant Logan#and all the old x men coming back to the city#and they heard that a Logan from a diffrent timeline is here#and they see him and he’s freaking pregnant and holding a baby he just had a few months ago#and he’s happier then they’ve ever seen him#and Wade is just so damn happy to keep getting Logan pregnant and having babies#and all their kids would have super cool powers#they get a lot of help with their gaggle of kids but all the kiddos know they are so loved by their dads#ugh just Logan having given up on this dream so long ago and then he finally gets it after he thinks his whole life turned to shit#and he’s finally treated like an omega with a loving alpha that he’s always wanted#and hes not even in the omegaverse anymore and wade isn’t an alpha#feminism isn’t about all women going into the work force#it’s about the ability to choose#Logan fully supports omega and women’s rights#i might delete this later#sorry about this post#omegaverse#omega logan#poolverine#deadclaws#and Wade always wants to show Logan off#as like the hottest guy ever#and Logan who has always been treated like something to hide is just giddy with it#and he’s getting properly dotted on and cared for in bed#and after so Long of logan being treated like something to hide something to not been seen in a relationship with#he would never let Wade feel that way#he thinks wade is so handsome#just the absolute perfect alpha despite not even being an alpha#plz DM me about poolverine im going crazy
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happy belated valentines day quodo upon thee! originally posted on ao3 for the quodo minifest, this was my valentines for @chacusha, who organized the event! i had a ton of fun drawing them and im definitely looking forward to next year <333
+ bonus art based on the comic by Kate Beaton, Javert is in Slash Fiction:
#quodo#quodo minifest#star trek#star trek ds9#Quark/Odo Kiss ///REAL NOT FAKE/// CLICK HERE>>>>>#did someone say quodo rights night??? either way Here it IS <3#i added image descriptions to the alt text but let me know if you need them visible under the post as well!#initially i was going to post this to twitter months ago but alas. re: the state of things and life in general#anyway this was so much fun !! it literally got me motivated to draw...i couldn't stop i had to keep going and did another...then another..#i should compile all the other drawing i did of them bc oh Boy there were a Few#also getting odo's features just right was harder than i thought. meanwhile quark was like BOOM! there he is :)#also did u see the shoe. did u see the shine did u see it. bc i swear im never coloring shoes again#all the refs i had to use.....and if you think i exaggerated quark's fat ass well Think Again i only took from Reality! it's all there bby#my obligatory one art post a year....what was my art tag again.......oh well time to revamp it#myart#also pls go read the other fics!! i know i made a post of this before but i cant believe the one i received back...kisses them.#it was perfect! literally made for me! in fact im reading it right now! wedding of the century by sirenoftitan and Boy was it ever!!!
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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
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Hiatus
I am going on hiatus for a bit more. I really really hoped the stuff that have been going on lately were already "sorted out" but, uhm... they aren't. I need to take a bit more time offline once again, and try to work things out.
Thank you for your patience ❤
Wren
#EDIT: I've deactivated my IG for a bit because it wasn't helping at all. I'll be back there but I need time#wren text tag#somehow issues from mid July/early August have managed to get worse. Like I'm not even surprised bc I'm used to it but GIRL . What the fuck#“it's finally summer”+“can't wait to draw!” * gets 3 hiatus in a row * maybe drawing or summer isn't really meant to be 🤨🤔#I hate having to log-in to post a hiatus message and then dissapear again when I'm supposed to post my doodles n have fun#Feels like one of those jesters that appears at luncheon to entertain the royal court and then they go missing for the rest of the month#bc I'm trying very hard not to hide in my shell + having a bit more presence here to post my artwork#and somehow I fail at both like fucking heck. How can you be so bad at this.#but in short I won't be here to answer stuff and being silly or whatever people expect me to do#because if you're here for the silly stuff. MAN. I'm am sorry but I don't feel silly at all.#Somebody once said “the horrors are never ending yet I remain silly” but I forgot the “remain silly” part#And if you're here for drawings. I don't even have time and I don't feel like drawing at all. Idk which one is worse#The bakery hangs up the “closed today” so people know they have to go to buy bread somewhere else. Same here. But it won't last a day#idk why the bread analogy. Guess I'm a birb after all#this is also the closest thing to a vent post I will ever write and I managed to say nothing at all. Vagueposting about vent. Good job Wren#tw: vent#tagging in case somebody like me needs to have some tags filtered#the hiatus will go on also a bit longer because the last few weeks my mental health suffered a lot and I know my limit#also this post was queued. If I see I can still be active before publishing I will delete it otherwise see for yourself#also queue doesn't work ig like I programmed this for 9 pm hopefully it will be up by then and not any other random time
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7 days until kuukou's birthday!!!!!!!!!! kuukou week officially kicks off tomorrow!!!!!
#this is vee speaking#for me at least lol#i never got to draw kuukou in that jumpsuit from arb’s bday line last year so here i am doing it now lol#i’m fairly excited lol i did my best to challenge myself this time around#since kuukou month a few years back was just getting enough art to post an entire month’s worth of shit *wheezes* how did i do that actually#here’s to making kuukou’s special day fun!!!!!!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜#💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜(tho some aren’t fun lol✨)💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜#vee is arting
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