#to be clear; he understood it as platonic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 3 months

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Language Barriers

Based off the idea that Yuu doesn't speak the same language or have the same culture norms in their world!! Got inspired for once

Content Info: GN!, 4.6K words-ish, Fluff/Comedy, Platonic except in Kalim's, Aztec refs in Leonas, NSFW jokes in Heartslabyul, Staff being parents, Trey bullying

Characters: Mozus Trein, Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Ashton Vargas, Sam, Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Grim, Leona Kingscholar, Kalim al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit

***

Since your arrival in Twisted Wonderland, you have begun to grasp the language and culture of this world. For the most part, at least.

You remember as clear as day when you first arrived, the pure confusion of the Headmage and those around you. Words from your lips were pure gibberish to them. They stared at you like you were an anomaly— and they were right. You are one.

‘Glitchy’ is the term they have used to describe your voice. “It is as though the sound around you warps everytime you speak.” The Headmage— Crowley— said.

The man had given you a necklace alongside an old dorm he housed you in. It was a simple looking necklace. A small mirror charm dangles in the center of it. Subtle enough to not draw attention to it.

It wasn't just a necklace however. It was a translator, a universal one.

The ‘glitches’ from your mouth had stopped and became the strange sounds the natives here spoke. Still, the necklace is just a buffer. Just because you can understand them doesn't mean you know what they're saying.

You still do not know the slang, the culture, the phrases, the grammar. Words still slipped your mind. You swear all you can hear is gibberish at times– and honestly you don’t doubt it occasionally is when students want to mess with you. You still had a lot to learn and there have been many miscommunications along the way. All part of the journey you suppose.

The staff here weren't coddling at all but they were accommodating. They made it clear that they favored no student more than the other. (At least that's what they claim.) But they also understood that holding you to the same standard would be unfair.

Mozus Trein

Professor Mozus Trein was a blessing when it came to learning about this world. His history classes made understanding this place easier. Trein would even give you extra context with his lessons to help you understand the everyday things and universal knowledge that you are unaware of.

His standards for your essays were different. He was no less strict on you but he was reasonable. He could tell that you truly understood the concept and put effort into your papers despite the language barrier and he is not going to punish you for learning.

You would get your paper back with a high grade and a page of corrections with explanations for each one. Why this comma here wrong. Why this was the wrong conjugation of that word. How this sentence could be improved.

“Excuse me, Professor?” You test the words as you speak them, accent slipping out. Trein looks to you from his desk. "Yes?”

“This word here is marked as wrong, but I remember you saying ‘I before E except after C.’” You tilt the paper to him and the older man adjusts himself on seat.

“Let me see here…” Trein paused to read the paper, expert eyes scanning for any potential mistakes. “Ah I see, that word there is an exception. ‘Sovereign’ doesn't follow that rule.” He closed his eyes as he explained and you nodded in understanding.

“I see, so I just have to memorize it. Are there any other words like that?” You didn't like how Trein seemed to frown as he thought about it. He hadn't realized how many there were. “Yes there are. A lot more than I anticipated I’m afraid,” a sigh escapes his lips and he shakes his head.

“I will not hold this against your grade since you have been improving with each assignment. Little mistakes like this will be forgiven so long as they are not repeated. Allow me to adjust your grade accordingly.”

You tilted your head as your B+ went to an A-. A small smile decorates your features. Trein nods to you and hands you your paper back. “There you are then. On to you next class.” You turn to leave but are stopped by when he speaks again.

“You should be proud of yourself, Yuu. You are the hardest working student I've have ever had the pleasure of teaching.” You perked up and your smile grew as you were onto your next class.

Divus Crewel

Professor Divus Crewel’s classes were difficult for completely different reasons. Math and numbers were the same for the most part aside from some minor symbol changes. Word problems were the bane of your existence however. Thankfully Divus can see that you understand the math. He'll often pass you or only take half a point off if you use the wrong equation or misunderstand the question and such.

He also gave you a small private lesson about alchemy as well. Teaching you the basic terms and proper protocols that most students would have learned early in their education. He'd show how to differentiate the effects an ingredient would have by the prefixes of their names or symbols on the vial.

But most importantly he would help you socially. What you should dress like for certain events. The correct way to speak so you could sound like a native. Social cues.

And he would refuse to admit it but you were his prized pup over the rest. He may or may not have slipped you a few perfumes or clothing under the guise of “Crowley not providing enough” or “Taking stress off of you to do better in class.” You knew better though.

After all, how could he play off giving a coat similar to his? It was less flashy and more suited to your tastes. It wasn't obvious to anyone else that you matched him unless they really observed. Perfect to wear in his class.

He's always looking out for you. Making sure you are safe and secure. And should you get injured from another adventure, he is there with a potion in hand.

Dire Crowley

Crowley was the one that gave you the necklace and a place to stay. Though eccentric and a bit well… lazy, you couldn’t deny that this was a good display of his generosity. Even if he does make you work for it.

Crowley was a strange one. He'd gift you some magical object one day and then forget you exist the next. He’d help you with your paperwork for accommodations and then forget to approve of them.

One time he dropped off a stack of paperwork on you to do for him but still left you a huge comprehensive guide that teaches you how to do each one. On top of that there was even a translation card meant to help you. If he put this much effort into these papers he'd be done by now. You assume he made this so he can drop more on you in the future. You swear he mentioned he's doing this to you to ‘prepare you for when you become the new headmage— er headmaster.’ Yeah right.

He'd give you dangerous tasks then become overprotective if any boy dare get too close to you. He'd help with anything but only if you stroke his ego. Yet despite it all he was still, as much as you hated to admit it, generous.

Despite everything, he has taken you in instead of abandoning you in this world. You swear sometimes he acts like a dad to you… When its convenient.

He's so annoying but you can’t find it in your heart to truly hate him. He may get you in trouble, but the moment it becomes too dangerous he steps in without hesitation to protect you and gives you a huge lecture after.

You hope you learn enough of the language to properly scold him.

Ashton Vargas

“Is this really necessary?” You ask the coach in front who re-wraps your hands tightly. “Absolutely it is!” The Coach's booming voice resonates in you as he pats you on your back rather roughly. “Give me another punch.”

You swallow and raise your hands again. You hesitate. “Come on kid you aren't gonna leave a dent in me!” You swallow and swing at his stomach. Vargas was right, he doesn't even flinch as your arm practically vibrates.

“That was a good form! I almost felt it.” A great guffaw rumbles in his chest. “Again!” Another punch, he looks down approvingly.

“Not bad, not bad at all. I sense a lot of potential in you, kid. That's enough for today.” You breathe a sigh of relief as you wipe your brow and unwrap your hands.

“Seems my training regiment is working, you're getting stronger by the day. Still— this on its own isn't enough. You need protein, kid! Lots of it. And you know what a good source of protein is?”

You stare at him for a moment. “Those uh…” the word slips your mind. “Chicken… capsules…?”

“Bingo! But they're called Eggs here Yuu.” Ashton puts a hand on his hip and makes a fist. “You should start with a dozen eggs per day and increase from there. I know that headmage can't be relied on to pay you in time, so I personally will deliver some bulking meals myself!”

“... Why are you doing this for me?” Your voice comes out a bit quiet as you speak. Ashton looks at you for a minute. “Why? Because you’re my student and I want to see you succeed. You got some serious strength hidden in you, and it would br a shame to see it wasted. Besides…”

As he speaks he starts taking down those punchy things, sandbags, you think. “The students here are quite rowdy. I want you to be able to defend yourself, especially since you don't have magic. You have to rely on brawn, Yuu! And I will be the one to awaken it.”

Vargas strikes a pose for a moment before relaxing. “Before you go I need to teach you some vocabulary.”

“Vocabulary…?”

“About your muscles of course!” The coach sat you down for a moment as he went into kinesiology. Micros and macros. Bulking. He broke it all down for you while flexing his muscles to emphasize his points.

“Now off you go Yuu, meet me here same time tomorrow, got it?”

Sam

Sam is a cool dude. You interact with him a lot. He never had an issue when you were first learning to speak. In fact he'd help you find the products you described to him. Of course he'd try and convince you to buy the more premium products but that's just business.

He'd even offer you a gig or two. His shelves don't stock themselves and his shadow friends wouldn't mind some extra help. Just know they can be a bit mischievous. While you were working you'd even get a small employee discount.

Even though your language has gotten better, there is still the occasional mix up.

“Ah, prefect! What can I do for you?” Sam queried while leaning on the counter top, delighted to see one of his favorite customers. “I am looking for… um…” You froze. What was that word again??

“The… white liquid?” You watched as Sam racked his brain for what you meant. “An invisibility potion?”

“No no! It's like… a juice?”

“Ah! I got it! Coconut milk!” The man snapped his fingers and winked. He frowned a bit when you shook your head.

“Wait here.” The shadow man watched as you ventured into the small smack aisle in front of him. Soon you took a bag of beef jerky and pointed to the small symbol on it. “What is this animal called again?”

“That's a cow.”

“Yes! I need the juice from it! The cow juice! What is its name? I forgot.” you perked up and beamed at him, hoping he understood. It all clicked for Sam, and he let out a hearty laugh at the realization.

“Do you mean milk, perchance?”

“Yes! I knew it had that sound! I need milk!” Sam chuckled again and waves his hand, sending a small shadow to retrieve some. “By the way would you be down to do some work tonight?”

“Tonight? Yeah, I can always use some extra cash.” The prefect was always so easy going. Guess they had to be in a place like this.

“Good. I'll apply your discount right now then!”

Heartslabyul

Your favorite Heartslabyul members have invited you to join them. Another Unbirthday party was to be hosted and the stars aligned today for the whole deck to help with the baking. It felt nice to be with them. They were like a family in a way, being with them felt like home. Alongside baking, there was some cooking being done too.

“Geez you really do like your eggs, huh?” Cater asked the spade who stirred his chopsticks with precision. He is determined to make the perfect tornado omelet.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ace tsked. “Whenever we go out to a restaurant it's the only thing he orders.”

“Not true!” Deuce's interjection wasn't as strong as it usually is, much to focused on his creation. “Yeah only if they dont offer any.” Ace retorts.

“Grim, it is unsanitary to touch the batter,” Riddle breaks up the impending argument to chide the direbeast ‘helping’ him stir, “Trey how many egg yolks do I add?”

“Three. You sure got it Riddle?” Riddle pouts a bit. He knows he got a shell in the batter last time but he's trying! “I'll get it right this time, you can count on it.”

“Ooh, give the egg whites to Deuce if you aren't using them!” Deuce mutters a thank you to Cater as he finishes up his omelet. “Does anyone else want one?”

No’s resound across the kitchen aside from you and Grim which makes Deuce smile. “Alright, what kind do you want Yuu? I'm still unsure on what kind you prefer.” Deuce looks a little embarrassed at not knowing despite how long you've been friends.

Before anyone could tease Deuce, Trey asks the worst question he possibly could without knowing. “Actually how do you like your eggs in the morning, Yuu? I rarely see you eat breakfast in the cafeteria.”

You pause for a moment, the pan you were greasing slipping slightly. Then you chuckled. “That's very bold of you Trey, I never expected you of all people to say that… But judging by everyone else's reaction, I assume it doesn't mean anything here?”

“Oh? Does it mean something different where you from?” Riddle asks, looking over at you. “It does actually.” Cater looks up from his phone he was reading the recipe from, noticing your amused expression. “What else could possibly it mean though?” You hold in a laugh. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to bring it up but you can't help it.

“Is that so? I sure hope I didn't say anything offensive. What does it mean?” Poor Trey; he chuckles as he decorates one of the finished cakes not knowing the storm that's brewing.

“You essentially just propositioned me in front of everyone.” The whole kitchen is silent as they stare at you. Trey looks flustered and confused out of his mind as an abundance of frosting squirts out of the bag. “I… pardon?”

Ace speaks first “Huh?! How does that make sense?”

“Proposition? What does that mean?”

“Don't worry about it Grim.” says the diamond. “Still that seems far fetched, it's rude of you to mess with Trey like that you know!”

“I'm not lying! It's actually what it means!” Trey is adjusting his glasses now, embarrassment growing. Riddle looks horrified, trying to find his words. He's trying to rack his brain for a response before deciding to ask about it. His voice comes out a little hesitant and unsure. “Are eggs part of some sort of courtship in your world…?”

“Um… sort of..?” At your words Deuce pales. Ace takes this opportunity to be a little shit per usual. “Wow! Seems like you have a chance then, Deucy!”

“Oh shut it Ace! Wait, have I been propositioning you this whole time?!” His face is red and he's hiding in his hands. He has offered so many egg dishes over the years. Oh God he must have made you so uncomfortable— this isn't what an honor student would do!

“I still don't know what that means…” Grim grumbles.

“No no! Offering eggs is fine, it's just that particular phrase has very different connotations in my world.”

Ace is snickering at the whole situation, but especially at Deuce’s panic. He's also just as confused, however. Trey finally has the courage to speak. “Um, how exactly does that mean…” He trails off, defeated. “I'm sorry Yuu, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you too much…”

“Okay, but how exactly does that mean that?”

“Yeah I'm with Cater on this one…” Ace adds.

“Enlighten me.” Riddle puts his hands on his hips, morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“So… When someone asks that they essentially mean to say they're gonna invite you to spend the night with them and cook you breakfast in the morning.” Trey looks even more embarrassed but so does Riddle.

“So it's a sleepover? That's it?” Grim asks just to be waived off by Cater again who vibrating with laughter.

“That's a pretty convoluted way of asking…” Deuce looks to the side, also a little flustered. “Yeah it makes no sense for me either, and I'm from that world, but that is what it means…”

“Wow so Trey really is bold!” Cater snickers as Ace joins in with a “I never knew you had it in you.”

“Enough with this vulgar talk!” Riddle commands, clearly demanding the conversation to be over.

“I am never gonna live this down aren't I?”

Leona Kingscholar

I am gonna nerd a lil abt aztec mythology rn and I'm not apologizing

Herbivore is what he called you. It was meant to be an insult but you never took offense. There is no other creature that fights harder than prey that is fighting for their life or backed into a corner. If anything it was a compliment. You've seen how hard they can fight.

Yet today Leona took the title further. “You are honestly like a little rabbit. All this confidence and attitude, yet harmless.” You raised a brow at him. “Thank you.”

Leona's eyes shift ever so slightly. “You're taking it as a compliment?” You tilt your head. “I assume rabbit in this world is synonymous with fragility here…? Odd. They're a symbol of warriors back in my world.”

“Is that so?” Leona speaks boredly, but he doesn't excuse himself or tell you to shut up. “Yeah, rabbits are these mighty warriors that are completely invincible. Children of one of the 5 sin gods too. Nothing can kill them. Centzon Tōtōchtin are no joke. Odd how they're considered weak here.”

You think for a moment. “But they are known to be constantly drunk all the time and play around, so I guess that could be an insult…” Leona just rubs his head. “Take it however you want…”

Kalim al-Asim

“Look at all the stars!” Kalim exclaims, pointing up at the sky. He lands his carpet along the sand dunes, eyes full of wonder. He then looks to you with bated breath, waiting for your reaction.

“It's beautiful…” You whisper, overlooking the patterns of stars decorating the night sky. It was straight out of a painting, vast and whimsical. Kalim was glowing at your happiness. “Aaah, I'm glad you like it! I was hoping you would!”

You lean back against the ground. Shooting stars dart across the sky along the twinkling lights in a beautiful display. Your eyes land on the moon, admiring how different it was from your own.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn't it?” You freeze for a moment. “Haha, careful saying that to people from my world Kalim, not that you'll be running into anyone else from there anytime soon…”

Kalim looks over to you, brows slightly furrowed. “Eh? What do you mean?” You look back up the moon again. “Saying ‘the moon looks beautiful tonight’ where I’m from means I love you.” There's a moment of silence as Kalim ponders.

“Well then the moon looks beautiful tonight! I love all of my friends!” Kalim grins at you, fist pumped to his chest.

“It's not like that, Kalim. It's for romantic feelings. Funny, since coming here I've had a lot of experiences that would be considered flirtatious in my word…” You laugh a bit before a small frown appears on your features but Kalim snaps you out if it.

“So what you're saying is… it's a love confession?” His eyes are glimmering, the moon reflecting on them beautifully.

“You got it.”

“Then the moon looks beautiful tonight.”

Jamil Viper

So in TWST the languages aren't called the same thing in our world but I couldn't figure out the language of the Scalding Sands so I made one up. Can be a psuedo-prequel to my other fic Missing Yuu. It can be read here!

“Your Arabic is so similar yet so different than my world's version” Jamil pauses his mumbling and hums in question. “Arabic?”

“It's a language where I'm from. It sounds very similar to yours. Like I swear it could be some sort of dialect of it.”

“Scaldic, you mean?” You nod looking over at him from where you lay in his bed. “Is that what it's called? It's a pretty language.” Jamil messes with the stereo in his room, taking out an old CD and browsing for another he wanted to show you. “Maybe once you get more comfortable in this language, I can teach you a bit.”

“That would be lovely, thanks Jamil” As the sounds of shuffling continue from his search and you absentmindedly mess with your necklace before sitting up. “Wait! I know!”

Jamil perks and turns to you, watching as you start to take off your necklace. “Here put this on, you've shown me so much music from your world, let me show you some from mine!”

You offer the necklace over, shaking it a little for encouragement. Jamil takes it gently and examines the necklace. He lifts up his hair and slips it on, feeling a warmth on his chest from where the mirror lay.

You speak, and Jamil braces against the weird feeling of the necklace warping your glitched gibberish from your throat into his native language. “Can you hear me?” The words echoed in his head a bit. He took a moment to fully process them as they reverberated in his head.

He almost replies in his native tongue, but the amulet compels him to speak another language. Your language.“Yes, I can.” He replies, slurring a bit as he feels his words echo and warp. Strange… he knows what he's saying but he can't understand it.

“You have an accent, well that makes sense…” You chuckle a bit as he sits beside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. “I never thought about how the enchantments on these worked. I assumed that it would be instant. Is this what it's like for you?”

“Crowley said it would probably be different for me cause I'm not from this world. See why I ask you to repeat things all the time? … thanks for not getting too annoyed with that by the way.”

You tap away on your phone for a moment. “Here we go, I got some songs in Arabic for you, look.” Jamil watches you press play and takes in the music. It was ethereal, so different yet so similar to his worlds. Uncanny yet compelling. Then the lyrics start and he furrows his brows.

“It really is like Scaldic.” he replies, closing his eyes. “Its like if I focus hard enough I can hear it in my own language, but I cant.”

“See what I mean?” Jamil nods. “I think I'm picking up some words though, but there's no guarantee the meaning is the same.”

“Yeah it's how I feel all the time here… its frustrating at times. Oddly enough there are some words that stay the same, mostly food for example. Like mahalabia or horchata for example.”

“Huh, odd how that works…” the music coursing through his body invigorates him. He can imagine all the potential ways to move to this.

“Yeah. And it's the same dish too— well sort of. It tastes so similar yet so different. I miss my world's food, but I'm slowly forgetting the taste of it. Its just vauge memory.” Jamil peers over to the saddened expression on your face. He never even considered that part of being from another world.

“... How about we listen to your music while cooking, then? I'm sure we can make something that tastes like home.” Your face brightens. “That sounds nice.”

Vil Schoenheit

“Thank you for putting up with my accent, it must be annoying to deal with.” You sip on the tea he offered you, trying your best to abide by the manners in this world. Vil merely looked at you.

“It's not annoying at all. Your accent is fine just the way it is.” He almost seemed disappointed by the insinuation.

“Ah… Sorry I just saw that Epel’s usually not allowed to use his accent around you, so I assumed I shouldn't either.” Vil sighs.

“That's different. You have already proven yourself strong and beautiful enough to be who you are. Epel on the other hand needs to learn to accept himself for who he is first before he can truly be the person he wants to be. He must prove to me he can love himself as he is. If I hated accents, I wouldn't have let Rook speak in his."

“Ah I see… Thank you.” It wasn't everyday that you get praise from the Vil Schoenheit. “Your speech has improved, though I may point out there are some words you may need to work on. Your accent may make it sound like you are talking about something else entirely. Hmm…”

You hold your breath as he thinks. “I want you to grow into the best spudling you can be, so how about you take voice lessons from me?” Vil seems to smirk at your surprised expression. “From you..?”

Vil nods. “Yes. This way you can grow more confident in your speech and vocabulary. That voice of yours is beautiful, it just needs to be tuned.” You look at your tea then to him. “I accept.”

#twisted wonderland x reader #dire crowley x reader #mozus trein x reader #twst sam x reader #divus crewel x reader #ashton vargas x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade x reader #twst grim x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #disney twst #twisted wonderland

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controld3vil · 1 month

Text

𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing(s): young!rhaenyra targaryen x velaryon!reader (can be read either as romantic/platonic) synopsis: Rhaenyra always seemed to like her position as the only dragon rider in King's Landing. Besides her uncle who rarely visits, she flys with Syrax whenever she can as proof of her imperial lineage. When word comes that you claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, Rhaenyra becomes strangely jealous of your newfound attention.

notes: this takes place closely timeline-wise to the first season. cw: reader experiences a near-death incident, slight angst

Rhaenyra always felt at ease after riding with her dragon, Syrax. She had a distinctive bond with Syrax that no one could replicate. No one could discourage the truth. Her ancestors rode dragons and conquered the Seven Kingdoms. And rightfully so, as she acknowledges its power on the world. They were fierce beasts, little in number, but ferocious and praised as Gods to the people. The Princess of Dragonstone understood that well when she climbed off of Syrax’s saddle. Her golden scales glisten gloriously from the sunshine.

She gleams brighter than before. Switching into a rich blonde gown, Rhaenyra rushes to the Court Council. Hoping none of the Councilmen would be bothered by her disturbed presence, the princess fixates on flattening down her silvery hair with her fingers. Combining through her tangled locks, the princess enters, drawing attention to haste and bewildered looks.

“I was visiting Mother,” The Realm’s Delight she was named, smiled at her father, the King when asked about her whereabouts. She knew he would be displeased by the fact that she was dragon riding incredibly early. But she told the truth wholly. Rhaenyra did visit her mother.

“On dragonback?” Viserys asked after catching a whiff of his daughter’s distinctive scent. It smelled of smoke and sea, resembling the dragon’s nature and their fiery breath. His daughter returns with a cheeky smile when she goes about to collect the pitcher, full of wine. There was much pride in the princess of her ancestral lineage. It was clear as histories can be able to tell of Old Valyria. A dragon was considered a rare delicacy despite having an abundance around the world. King’s Landing, Dragonstone, and Driftmark. Yet people did not consider them to be flesh and blood. Surprisingly, most were wild and had never been bonded with a dragon rider.

“Haven’t you heard? There was a sighting of the wild dragon, Vermithor along the coastlines of The High Tide,” Coryls Velaryon spouts, in cautiousness and weary. His clenched fist was unmistakable to Rhaenyra as he leaned forward with agitation. “My men are terrified, Your Grace. Surely we can think of a way to return the dragon’s course to Dragonstone.”

The silvery-haired girl looks to her father, King Viserys who beams with fazed delight. He thinks in light of the Master of Ship’s concerns. A dragon flies as it pleases. It did not flee far from Dragonstone as her familial home was a mile away from Driftmark itself. Eventually, Vermithor would have to return to rest. “And I’m sure he will return to Dragonstone when he deems it appropriate.”

The lighthearted remark sparked some casual laughter from the table. A few lords shamelessly coughed between their coats while Hand to the King, Otto Hightower could only contemplate silently how to move the conversation to something more time-consuming. Rhaenyra has witnessed enough Council meetings to know that her father is restless. He never wanted to stay in the room for far too long before becoming disinterested in every political matter. What a dull position, she thought, to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms, you must abide by everyone's opinion and request.

Rhaenyra traces her thumb around the handle of the pitcher. It’s glass and gold melded together. Its purity reflects wonderfully when she’s shown it to the light. As she strides around every seat of the table, the princess notices the little nuances each lord has. The old and cold pin of the Hand on Otto’s chest. The chainmail rings around Maester Mellos. And the rustic bronze rings Lord Corlys carried on his right hand. She recognizes why they are so distinctive now.

“Nyra!”

It was like a bell went off in her mind when the Princess of Dragonstone blinked again. Now the Council meeting was left in their final moments. The doors that connected the room to the passive hallways opened, and flooded with the lords, one by one exiting. Well-mannered and poised was she when Rhaenyra placed the pitcher back onto the tabletop. Greeted by her father with a brief smile, she heard the sound of sweet nectar. Did you expect she did not hear you?

“Princess,” Rhaenyra laughs, coming down the stairs. You appeared eager to be near her, as you wrapped your arms tightly around her waist. A warm ache grows in her chest as Dragonstone’s darling caresses your shoulders, pushing you aback to see your face. “My you are eager this morrow.”

Your cheeks were plastered in rosy plums. Pink and delicate. As you burst into unfathomable joy at her proximity, you couldn’t contain your giddy blubbering. “I missed you! Is it so wrong to miss you?” She’d imagined your energy and heart beating simultaneously in the rhythm of a hummingbird. You were such a lively spirit, it complimented well with her own. Can she say that?

She peers at you, fondly. As you were the most precious being one could ask for. If she could, Rhaenyra would shield you from every inconvenience and proposal your way. Even when you would become of age and pursued by your parents, she still would protect you from anyone who deemed you accessible. She brought both of her hands around your small one. They were adorned with rose-colored jewelry. Each is a colored gemstone to match your House colors. Rhaenyra slowly traces the flesh of your palm, “Of course not, Princess! It’s- I haven‘t seen you in so long,”

Your name is hollered and echoed against the looming halls you both stood in. She was sure for a moment, you two would be alone. A pang of discomfort flourishes in her throat when Rhaenyra becomes mute to the person to grab your attention. You, however, were deemed unbothered by it all, and held onto her grip tighter, and firmly, radiating heat and sweat.

“There you are,” Your father, Lord Corlys groans in relief. It was evitable to find you lost around the castle, King’s Landing was a vast place. However, for how long you have visited, Rhaenyra depicts you knew the structure of it all and simply faked being clueless around. She saw it once. When you vaguely asked a guard where the library was to distract him, knowing you would be off avoiding your lessons with the Septa. She wishes she could chuckle out loud for that memory. “Do not get yourself carried away with the Princess, we have important matters to discuss with the King.” Your father seemed adamant about separating you from Rhaenyra, she recognizes. Which offends her greatly. You were a good friend and cousin. But more importantly, you were the only person to enjoy her company and mischief.

For the longest time, the eldest daughter of King Viserys was lonely, not having anyone to relate to with her ancestral blood. The ladies in waiting were shy and polite. They were not her forte, Rhaenyra disliked how courtship worked. The daughter of the Hand, Alicent Hightower was a pleasant fresh air and surprise. When she had arrived at King's Landing years ago, Rhaenyra was rather avoidant of her. Now, they were good friends, only ever to be in each other's presence. Daemon, her uncle, is rarely seen nowadays. His position to the City Watch had in truth bothered and encouraged him to wreak more havoc with the townsfolk. She dismisses everyone clearly, anyone closest to her Targaryen bloodline is old or distant.

But you, and your siblings, Laenor and Laena were much needed in the capitol. Your brother and sister visit rarely, they listen to your father and mother. On the other hand, you weren’t as uptight. As the youngest member of the Velaryon family, you had fewer expected duties compared to her and Alicent. Rhaenyra envied it truly, forever longing for your freedom.

“Yes father,” You mope, an obvious frown on your lips when you depart from Rhaenyra’s side to your father. He stares at you with amused eyes, much contrast when he turns to her direction with a cold glare. It brings a chill down her spine as she quickly bows her head at the Master of Ships. She meant no offense. You did not notice the demeaning tension between your father and cousin. Because childishly, you excitedly tugged on Rhaenyra’s golden sleeves. “We’ll meet again soon, alright?”

God, she can only smile at you. You were so sweet, endearing, and innocent. All traits she could find in any other lady. But you were much lively, more genuine than the girls she watched by the courtyard. They were pretentious and fickle. Alicent was also sweet and innocent. Innocent in the ways of adventure and courage. She was attached to duty and for that, Rhaenyra could not blame her. But for how much it mattered to her, she believed it to be an outrage. Out of everyone, you were just right.

The next time you met Rhaenyra was unconventional. Somehow you managed to convince your father to journey beside him to King’s Landing once more to meet the King’s family. Corlys hardly shrugged, putting little effort to stop you from climbing aboard the Sea Snake. Under unfathomable moments, you were condemned to sail to the capitol to tell the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms the great news. The last islanders left behind were your mother, Rhaenys, and sister, Laena who waved at you, earnestly, honing her fond smile as your figure grew smaller and smaller. Your mother, the Queen who Never Was, stood warmly with her arms crossed, with a look of pride on her face.

Yes, your mother was ecstatic about what you had accomplished. No other dragon rider besides The Old King, Jaehaerys could claim the beast, the Bronze Fury. Many attempted, and many failed. However, because of your efforts, create a sense of joy and relief in your mother’s eyes. Never would she imagine her youngest child to claim one of the largest dragons alive. Vermithor was an untamable beast with a feisty personality. Perhaps it takes likeness to your spirit and simply bonded. She would have to ask you again to recall how you did it.

The walls of the grand castle were empty and welcoming. You felt adrenaline scorch through your veins when you climbed up the stairs of the grand hall. The exterior was glorious. You could holler and scream and it would echo throughout all the corridors like a never-ending chamber. You held a skittish smile, as you made your way up, placing one hand on the rails for support. You could hear your father’s voice echo behind. Careful, you mustn’t fall, my love!

Even if you dropped to the ground, you would immediately pull yourself up and climb the stairs again. It was how desperate you were to meet Rhaenyra. You desperately wanted to tell her!

Across the royal chambers, Rhaenyra was lounging outside notably. She sat under the Weirwood tree at leisure with Alicent beside her with a book in hand. She read aloud one of its stories, a romantic tale of a Dornish princess. But the dragon princess barely paid mind to what the Hand’s daughter was reading, she was more in tune with the moving sky. The baby blue ocean from above and the fluffy clouds that looked like soft cushions. The Realm’s Delight longed to ride with Syrax, despite only returning from her morning ride. If she could live in the sky forever, Rhaenyra would want to.

She spotted a few of the Kingsguards that patrolled stop in front of someone. It looked as though they were permitting passage but seconds later, she saw them nod in unison simultaneously. They cleared the path and there you were. Striding in happy and irregular steps with your flowy dress of blue seashells and gemstones. She is reminded each time of your wealth and beauty. Cool-toned colors were your style as there was no other pigment you dressed in confidently and proudly, Sometimes she wonders how you would look in crimson red and black.

“Princess!” Alicent was the first to speak on your behavior. It was not every day to see you all of a sudden in King's Landing. After Lord Corlys’s many disagreements with the Council. he chose to be absent from court. This irritated King Viserys and the rest of the Council, knowing without their Master of Ships, their collaboration would be deemed incomplete. Nevertheless, your appearance would confirm that your father had once again returned to the capitol. “I didn’t expect to see you here!” The brown-haired princess gleams, shutting the book entirely, and rising to meet you in a short embrace.

Your giddiness is affectionate. It makes Rhaenyra feel light and blissful of your unannounced arrival. “It is good to see you, my Lady!” You’re teasing, tightly wrapping your arms around Alicent before releasing with sweet laughter. Alicent snickers, as the highlights of her dimples flush in soft pales of the color rose.

“I told you, Alicent is fine!”

“I know!” The two of you seemed to be in your world whenever your visits happened. You would appear, and Alicent bursts excitement and jitteriness. Rhaenyra finds it amusing to watch it unfold. But for not witnessing your presence for so long, she rather feels a little hurt and apprehensive of your attachment to the Hand’s daughter. If your mere attendance brought such delight, then your words brought an abundance of warmth and tenderness. “Nyra!”

Finally, the Princess of Dragonstone looks up, feeling slightly closed off from your welcome. Yet when she lays her velvet eyes on you, she can’t help but feel you are forgiven. Your expression was gentle and serene. “Princess,” Your name feels light off her lips as it always did. You playfully roll your eyes before releasing your grip on Alicent to hold onto Rhaenyra’s hands. They were inviting and delicate.

“I missed you,” You whine, dramatically, dragging out the last part as though you haven’t seen each other in months. When really, it has been less than a month. The most you have visited were a full three days, staying overnight in the guest's bedrooms. It was when your father had an important mission to relay with the lords he chose to stay longer. You, on the other hand, wanted a sleepover. And by now, you should have a bedroom, personalized for whenever you wish to come to visit. You have on many occasions to irk your father and mother’s minds.

“The last time we spoke you were whisked away by your father,” She scoffs lightly which earns a questionable raised brow from Alicent. Your expression does not falter at her offense. “even though you said we would meet again.” Petty and stubborn were the words you describe Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was rather protective and loyal to the people closest to her. You importantly, she greatly values you. And weeks ago, you promised her, however, things took a turn with your father and you had to abide.

“And we have,” You grin, lovingly, holding her hands up to your chest. It was a subtle sign of an apology and care. You carried your promise, even if it had taken weeks to fulfill because of interpersonal matters. But you are here now, in front of her, your energetic personality never failing. “I have great news.”

The silvery-haired princess seemed to take your understated gesture sincerely as she closed the gap between you two. Curiosity caught her gaze as her lavender orbs did not move away from your own. “Well, what is it?” Suddenly you’re aware you’ve kept a tight grip on Rhaenyra as she allowed you to trap both her hands. The close intimacy is acknowledged by you when you try not to break away your gaze from hers. Alicent seemed visibly bothered by it but you are not facing her to know.

The wind whistles in anticipation, and the Weirwood tree heaves and blows the dead leaves off of its branches. The luscious green fields dance back and forth in little tiny unison. The scent of dirt and fresh mint is present. As you inhale deeply before revealing, “I claimed a dragon.”

A moment of silence before a heaved gasp came from the Hightower princess.

“Congratulations!”

You can feel the butterflies float up to your chest when you see both of the girl's expressions in a state of happiness and revelation. You give an animated smile, “Thank you!”

“Are you joking?” You can see on Rhaenyra’s face, she is still in shock which morphs into pleasure and ecstasy.

You shake your head enthusiastically, and repeatedly, shaking both you and the Princess in a hop. “No!”

“Oh thank the gods!” Your cousin blurts, embracing you in a well-deserved embrace. Her arms coil around your back with a squeeze. The encouragement both Rhaenyra and Alicent had given you was something you cherished dearly. For the longest time, you blame yourself for not being able to claim a dragon. No egg would hatch or a wild dragon would approach you. You studied and performed all the ways to encounter them. Yet none had prevailed and up until recently, you felt exasperated on the idea of bonding with a dragon. You were extremely jealous of Laenor and Rhaenyra for their impeccable bond. You and Laena longed for it for your entire lives, it made you moody and neglectful.

Therefore their support had kept you least tolerable. Your mother and father were understanding and patient with your fits. Even King Viserys and Queen Aemma sometimes consoled you that one day you would claim a dragon. Whichever dragon you did not care for, you knew your companion was out there.

“Which dragon did you claim?” The brunette girl comes to your side, eager and curious to know what of your new beast.

“Yes, which one did you claim?” Your silver-haired cousin urges, shaking your hands back and forth.

You felt like a bubble waiting to pop with excitement. You wanted all the streams and ribbons the castle could offer to be released for your accomplishment. You took a deep breath before letting out a slow exhale to calm your beating heart. “Vermithor.”

In an instant, Rhaenyra’s face falls. “Vermithor.”

“Yes, Vermithor!” You were blinded by the enthusiasm Alicent portrayed with her hands, clapping and squealing in awe at you. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Vermithor!” The Hand’s daughter takes your left hand and swirls her thumbs around your knuckles. “I’m so happy for you!” Again the call of your name is murmured frankly and in reverence. “One of the largest dragons alive in the world and you had claimed it!”

Satisfaction filled your chest. Nothing could compare to the prideful looks your friends and family had for you on this day. It truly was something to celebrate something this spectacular. Not since Jaehaerys, your great grandfather rode the dragon. Your mother would surely want you to ride Vermithor immediately as he was still considered wild. But if Jaehaerys managed to tame the beast, you knew you could.

She could not explain it. Rhaenyra had always thought highly of you. She would disparage you out of anything. You were too pure for her frustration. What is she angry about? The princess could not explain. But whenever she passed the corridors of the Keep or the chambers of her mother’s ladies in waiting, she would hear the praise and compliments for your achievement. My, haven't you heard? The youngest daughter of Corlys Velaryon claimed Vermithor! The dragon King Jaehaerys rode! It must be fate.

To what end was it fated? Dragons chose their riders. It was unclear how the bonds between rider and dragon existed but it was something genuine. So it shouldn’t confuse her when she sees you when on Driftmark, practicing to fly with the Bronze Fury. You struggled the first few times. She recalls those moments well, laughing and teasing you to no end of the amount of times you fell into the mud. Mounting on a dragon was a gradual adjustment. As she stared into the view of the ocean shore and deep gray-blue waters, you and your dragon were by the shorelines, attempting to be in sync with one another. A few feet from you was Rhaenys. As commanding and benevolent she was to you and not to her.

Rhaenys Targaryen was quick-witted. She never had a great relationship with the Queen who Never Was. But in contrast, she was soft to you and held untainted remorse for her youngest child. Meleys was beside her rider, cooing and staring at you and Vermithor in inquiry. Much similar to her companion, Rhaenys said something Rhaenyra could not understand before watching you shake your head in disbelief. Vermithor was a grueling and deadly creature. The fact that you were young did not change its attention. It croaks and cranes its neck down for you to climb on its upper back.

A saddle was neatly strapped on the beast. It must take ages to put on. Vermithor was known for his savage behavior. Yet if you were present with him, she deems he would have been docile to take care of.

“Why are you pouting?”

It was the late evening on Driftmark when she proposed a walk with you along the beach line. It was the many hobbies you both enjoyed in your homeland. Salt and sea were everywhere as opposed to her home, King’s Landing filled with endless brick walls and dust. The island is peaceful and serene when there are no fishing ships in the water. Rhaenyra can never be tired of the view and the sea salt air Driftmark supplies. It’s refreshing and so calm.

“I’m not pouting.” The Princess of Dragonstone argues, her off tone marks it remarkable that her fickle state of mind. She should know better. You know her well, more than most of her maids and sometimes father.

“You are,” The corners of your lips curve as you kick a few clumps of sand off the ground. “I’ve noticed since coming here, you’ve been…distant.” A personality all of your siblings share is your tenderness. Laena had a graceful heart and Laenor a compassionate one. Yours was resilient. You held onto things for far too long and you’re incredibly devoted to the people you love. You become easily attached to things, people, and the attention. Can she blame you? For a long time, you felt ridiculed and ashamed for your lack of a dragon. Your sadness must be more out of sympathy than Laena’s. By the time your sister claimed Vhagar, you were left as an outcast.

The Realm’s Delights huffs, crossing her arms behind her back. “Seasick I suppose,” In truth, she never was seasick. Rhaenyra had traveled to Driftmark many times to be immune to the sickness. She knew it was a weak lie, one you would catch easily. But she did not like being confronted on whatever was on your mind.

“Nonsense,” You jest, before stomping both your feet firmly into the brown sugar sand. Your stance makes the princess stop. “I know you dislike Vermithor.”

She looks at you, astonished. “What?”

You push further into the dirt until your heels are engulfed. “I can see it, Rhaenyra. You do not like him.” Your assumption makes her head spin. Because in what world would she have any disregard against a dragon? Rhaenyra adored all dragons the same. They were a part of her family’s legacy. But she figures you must’ve seen her sometimes glare in the direction of your dragon to believe she had no love for the Bronze Fury.

The silver-haired girl shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.” She did not want to explain this to you. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed at her feelings, Rhaenyra deems you unfit to hear such nonsense. “It’s more childish than that.”

Your head quirks sideways. You looked confused as your eyebrows rose as well. She can feel the winds pick up as the tides come toward you both. Its cold water brushes past your feet but you ignore it completely. “How so?”

Must she explain at such a time? “I must admit, for the past few days, I’ve been feeling remorseful.” She quipped, finding the freezing chill of the sea comforting for this kind of conversation. “I’m sure you’ve seen me grow bitter, even resentful towards you and Vermithor. For that I apologize but- it’s a small feeling.”

“You feel resentful towards me and Verm?” She can see your eyes flicker, as you contemplate and allow your mind to take in her words. Your loose hair is down, you’re gorgeous. Even in your night clothes and were of the absence of jewelry and pretty colors.

“Was,” She reaffirms, unable to look you in the eye. Rhaenyra feels ashamed for feeling this way. She does not want to hurt your feelings. “The attention, the people, they spoke of you for days about what you have done, claiming King Jaehaerys dragon. All everyone wanted to do was talk about you and how you proved yourself to become the greatest rider.” The more she rambles, the hot tears flood her vision. She does not seem weak to you. She was spilling her truth to you, she had to let it out.

You held a calm expression. “But I’m not the greatest rider,” Yes, you were not. Your bond was still young. You still struggled with communicating with Vermithor sometimes daily. How can you be considered the greatest even when you struggled to mount your dragon?

“That is what the people say,” Accidently your cousin snaps but quickly regains her composure. She looks at her feet and the sand below. It was as if she pleaded for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive, you’re angry. You’d say but she continues. “I was sick and tired of it all. Even my father spoke highly of you and it offended me. Why do I feel this way? I should be happy for you!” The mist around you clouds the floor. It’s sombrous and cool to touch. Everything Rhaenyra had held back was gone and it felt somewhat cathartic. She knows you must’ve felt hurt by her words, she was harsh.

She was afraid to touch you. But you did not care, gripping her forearm suddenly. Rhaenyra’s gaze finally breaks and stares at you, wide-eyed. Her tear-filled eyes shattered your heart, fully aware of her fragile condition. “I don’t blame you for what you feel, Rhaenyra. I too felt the same way when Laena claimed Vhagar, do you remember it? I was restless, unable to sleep at night - why couldn't I do what she had done.” The Princess of Dragonstone does not pull away from your grasp but simply gazes at your quivering lips. “I grew to be resentful of my sister. My heart grew dark and left people in danger. I regret feeling this way towards her now because of it. Do you understand?”

The expression on your face said it all as she observed. The strained look flashed before you as you recounted the painful memories. In the days after Laena’s bond, you were cruel and cold. You spoke less to your family, ashamed and poisoned by jealousy. You would snap at the sailors more often and drive them into more dangerous scenarios to spite them. Your pettiness was revolting to watch, your father, Corlys growing instantly tired of your immature tantrums for something you could not control. He would cry out to you about how ignorant your actions were and then dismiss your privileges to sailing his ships. All while your mother felt she could do nothing to stop you in your frustration. She watched from a distance as her husband criticized you openly for your infuriating flaws, making it known to all you had gone too far.

Slow but surely, when you stepped closer to her gave you the courage to tell her what needed to be heard. “I cannot change what you feel, but if you wish for me to leave, then please tell me.” You huffed in pain as your cold fingers traced along her arm and then moved to her hands. In some ways like this, you were fragile like porcelain. Sometimes Rhaenyra forgot you were younger than her. And now she felt like the childish one.

“No, I—” She gulps, her fear evident. She didn't want to lose you as well. “Please don’t go.”

Your eye-opening conversation marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. Connecting with the Bronze Fury required some time to adapt to both yourself and those around you. As the newest rider, you felt the world embracing you. However, what you cherished most was the experience of riding. You hailed from Old Valyria, with the blood of the Dragon in your veins. Riding with Vermithor became a daily routine, a privilege you savored. It was the most incredible gift you could have received.

Rhaenyra slowly became accepting of it as well. You can tell by the way her lips curl when you mount off of your dragon, that she was proud of you. You were a dragon rider! Now, you and she could soar through the skies for eternity if you wished. It was a dream come true, and you were overjoyed that she had forgiven you.

When you were above the skies, it was breathtaking. No view from below could compare to the ones over the clouds. You admit now why you found Rhaenyra’s obsession with flying to be so addicting. It was. When you’re up there, it feels as though nothing matters but you and the pale blue heavens. Vermithor would always groan in his grumpy way to show affection. He enjoyed riding above, you’ve felt his calm heartbeat and knew he too felt as relaxed as you did. When Rhaenyra joined you, which was a regular occurrence, you two would race. Up and down the clouds, like both of you danced in between the midst.

She looked dashing in her rider’s uniform. Black leather, plastered to resemble dragon scales alongside matching gloves. You resembled a familiar approach, having bronze leather strapped all over to stimulate Vermithor’s charming scales. You reminisced that he even once nudged at you from behind as a sign of appreciation for it.

Vermithor, the ruthless wid dragon growing soft because of you. You always had your chance to mention it to him before riding as a reminder of your sincere relationship. As a rider and dragon, the two of you bonded over adventure and tricks. You loved exploring the faraway lands to only encourage the Bronze Fury more driven to fly.

But there were also moments when you were reminded of how reckless you could be with him. On the morning of your uncle’s name day, you convinced Rhaenyra to fly out to the Estermount Sea, close to the Triarchy of Essos. At first, the princess urged you of the danger, the Triarchy were pirates who paraded in raiding others for fun. Additionally, they had been targets of your father’s ships, disrupting trade. Yet you dismissed her pleas and pursued with an eager grin.

The first few moments entering the sea territory were quiet. Both of you were mindful of the harsh waves there and how foggy it was similar to the Stormlands. But Rhaenyra persisted with her worries when you wanted to challenge her to dive down close to the sea.

“We shouldn’t be here!” Her lilac eyes were defined with anxiousness as the princess held her dragon’s reins tightly. However you were indifferent, all too casual in uncharted areas.

“We’re fine! We’re high enough in the sky!” you shout, a broad grin stretching across your face as you gaze at the small islands of Essos below. They look both foreign and beautiful. You’ve never ventured this far from home before.

But that was the last moment of calm you experienced. Suddenly, a harpoon appeared out of nowhere, narrowly missing you and Vermithor by the shoulder. The weapon moved with such speed and force that you had no time to process what was happening. Rhaenyra saw it clearly—she watched as the massive arrow zipped past you, inches away from your body, before plunging into the sea below. Someone had attempted to attack you. The worst followed: the harpoon's impact sent you and Vermithor into a chaotic frenzy. You leaped as your dragon swerved violently, causing you to be thrown from your saddle. For a moment, your body was there, and then it wasn’t.

The princess screamed in desperation, urgently commanding Syrax to dive into the water in an attempt to catch your falling body. Your dragon was beside hers, plummeting and speeding towards the sea floor as you descended. With a whoosh, Vermithor swooped in at the last moment, grabbing you from a fatal plunge. His claws, though sharp, gripped you with surprising gentleness, and you stared in terror as he held you safely.

The memory was deeply distressing. Your hair was now disheveled and tangled from the fall. Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving your skin glistening and drenched. Rhaenyra could only sob with relief, feeling utterly exhausted and wishing it were all just a nightmare. Yet it was all too real. She felt Syrax’s comforting purr in response to her discomfort. Her father and yours would have been shouting endlessly about this.

Despite everything, all she could remember was the devastated look on your face.

It was madness. Jacaerys would tell her, her son parading around her room as they waited for all of the Targaryen bastards to arrive. Here she was, Rhaenyra Targaryen, in Dragonstone, pursuing the inevitable. The idea of recruiting Dragon Seeds was bizarre but what choice did she have? There was no one left in her family who could claim one. Distant Houses with the blood of Valyria were risky. She had to sacrifice one of her knights to do it. Perhaps this was the only way to win the war.

Years without your presence brought Rhaenyra sorrow and time to reflect on herself. It had been long since she was gifted to speak your name so openly. Everyone knew of her relationship with you. The princess cherished you deeply and with your absence, left the Realm soulfully longing. Rhaenys despises her because of it. She wondered if part of the princess's resentment was directly tied towards you or the fact she was given the title of heir or both. Yet after Alicent’s son had taken her throne, Rhaenys stood by her side, as did her husband.

Meeting all of the Targaryen bastards was daunting at first. Rhaenyra knew many infidelities were common for any lord to allow their seed to spread. To witness so many of them in a room made her all the more encouraged to believe her plan would succeed. It must, it should. She could feel all of their eyes focus entirely on her like a beacon of hope. They believed what they were doing was right to protect the realm. And for that, she will use it to attain.

The Dragonpit had never felt so cold or so secure. It was secluded within a murky cave, miles tall and wide. It’s humid, water drips everywhere as the Black Queen strides down onto the platform where the dragon would be summoned. Forty or so Dragon Seeds followed her, paranoid and trembling about what was to come. She would have to believe in the gods, Rhaenyra sighed. If there is a strategy better than this, she would take it. But Alicent’s son had taken something from her by force and for that, she could not comply.

“Come forward, Vermithor.” Her accent revealed her fluency in the High Vayrlian language. Rhaenyra readied herself for the beast. Seconds of silence loomed over all those in the Dragonpit like a neverending time bomb. The wait was excruciating yet the inevitable was daunting to witness. Out of the shadows comes a growl, which causes a few of the Dragon seeds to slightly panic. But the Queen knew better. And Vermithor as well.

He looms, towering over the cockpit like a living nightmare. His crooked teeth glowed an intimidating appearance for all, and the simmer of his bronze scales shined. “Obey! Stay calm, Vermithor!” Commanded by Rhaenyra as she stares up at the beast, unafraid. She holds an imposing scowl before witnessing the Bronze Fury lower his snout. The Black Queen reaches out of her hand, cautiously and slowly.

Her hand makes contact with his snout and calmly Rhaenyra recognizes the sense of calm Vermithor had with her whenever you were around. It felt as though he resembled your presence and familiarity. This intuition puts a warm smile on her face.

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divinesolas · 1 month

Text

bubbling thoughts

summary: after your husband goes off without a word you are left to ponder your relationship with him and does he truly love for you when theres another he clearly cares for?

jacaerys velaryon x fem!non targ!reader

c.w: misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst? with a happy ending ofc, oblivious jace, jealous reader, baela and jace are close, nsfw, oral (fem), not proofread

a.n: surprise upload 😁

perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg @cecestea

Four days. that's how long you had gone without seeing him. Like a wisp in the night he had been up and gone by the time you woke up. You had just thought he was busy, maybe he was out training by the water but when you heard the whispers of the council members curious as to where the heir had gone you began to worry. When you took your worries to his mother you assured you he was fine and baela had informed her he was off to the twins.

Baela. He did not inform you where he was going but he told baela? She watches the anger twist on your face and places a comforting hand on yours but can offer you no true words of assurance. You two have been married for two months now, his mother needed the alliance with your family led to you having a very quick marriage barely getting to speak to one another before the big day. Yet none of that seemed to matter as he was the most devoted and loving man you had ever met. You had thought you could never be happier but he did have his flaws of him. He was a bit temperamental, taking things a bit too seriously which you understood seeing his position but there was one you could hardly look past and it was more so your fault than his.

she’s his sister obviously he loves and cares for her but you cant help but feel sickly jealous when he seeks out her company or even so much as speaks about her. If it was anybody else you would have nothing to worry about but he is a Targaryen and you fear it might just be how they are and what they do. You were already on the edge when he could barely sit still during dinner one night cause she had missed it and when he did not return for far too long after going to search for her you did not miss the grin on his face.

You know it is platonic or more so you hope so. he does nothing but shower you will love but this has been nagging at the back of your head and you feel as though you have now snapped. Everyone had taken to avoiding you, you had not even seen baela and are thankful for it knowing you probably wrongfully snap at her. You walk around everywhere with a scowl on your face and you had taken to sleeping in a guest room unable to stomach being in his scent despite how much it keeps you up.

You miss him but you hate him. No you don’t hate him you merely wish for some sort of reassurance from him. anything. The night of the fourth day your eyes shoot open at the sounds of dragon wings flapping in the air and you sit up looking out the window in alarm before your felt your heart ache at the sight of familiar green wings. You flop down back into bed with a quiet huff not interested in going to see him at all closing your eyes and attempt to fall back asleep. He does not deserve to see you. But as you turn back and forth you look up at the ceiling in defeat. you hate how much this is bothering you. if only you just spoke to him it could all be fixed but you worried of what he’ll say. maybe he’ll call you crazy for even thinking such a thing or worse he’ll get defensive over baela and say you’re just jealous of her. it’ll be worse cause you are, you are so sickly jealous of how pretty she is, how head strong she is, un afraid to take risks and put herself in danger and you’re jealous of how close she is to Jacaerys.

You just need to clear your head. Maybe a walk by the beach would be good for you. Yet you find it hard to convince yourself as maybe you could run into him. You decide its worth the risk, if you run into him you could just run away? you had no real clue what you would do or what you would say to him but you just need to get out of this room out of this castle right now. The halls are terribly dark which is perfect for you and with your dark cloak on your back you swiftly make your way down the familiar halls in the hopes of not being seen.

Your dreams are swiftly crushed as you crash into someone as you turn the corner and your heart plummets as you see his face. “My love,” He grins, though you can see the hesitation clearly on his face he still holds your forearms lovingly, “I've missed you, i was looking for you everywhere.” His face plummets when you scoff lightly, turning your head to the ground so you don't have to see his pout. “you were the first person i wanted to see-” “i find that hard to believe.” Your words are sharp as you harshly cut him off and you can feel his grip around you tighten.

When he speaks next there's a sense of urgency and desperation that makes you want to crumble before him. “what happened? i heard you begun sleeping in one of the guest rooms if i have done something-“ “it is nothing now please let me go.” “i refuse to. i refuse to let you walk away from this tell me what has happened i will do anything to remedy it i swear it.”

you snap. “why don’t you go see baela I'm sure she is eager to see you as you are to her.” You rip yourself away from him as your words get weaker on your tongue and by the time you finish it comes out as a meek sound.

You decide the walk was an awful idea no longer interested in being anywhere near his presence you whip back around and make your way back to your room. you hear him call after you and his fast footsteps following quickly after you. “my love please you misunderstand i love you” you attempt to ignore him but his scent and his breathing rings in your ear as you try to act as though he is not there.

“please do not walk away let us speak.” “i do not wish to speak with you Jace please goodnight.” he stops the door from being shut and you have to quickly look away from the broken look on his face. “do not sleep in here please just come back to our room please.” he sounds like he’s on the edge of tears and you cant take it, you walk away from the door to go sit on the bed tossing your cloak somewhere in the room, “please just leave.” he doesn’t and you knew it wouldn’t. closing the door behind him as he swiftly makes his way towards where you sit on the bed.

you expect him to take place next to you but your eyes widen as he drops to his knees in front of you and grabs your hands that had been places in your lap clutching them closely to him. “i do not love baela like that i love baela as a sister.” “you are a Targaryen what comfort does that bring me.” you decide to finally look at him and see the strain on his face and the way his eyes clearly sting over with tears.

His hair is wet just like the rest of his clothes while his cheeks are redder than an apple. you cannot faulter despite how much you want to grip his cheeks and kiss his plush lips you remain firm and simple stare at him. “that is not want i mean, i love her but not like i love you. you are my stars and my moon, my sun and my sky, my life would not exist without you in it. everything i feel for baela is strictly familiar nothing like how i feel for you.” you feel yourself slipping further and further with every word he speaks and you crack at the soft kiss he places on your joined hands. “i was miserable without you these days.”

“then why did you not inform me of your leaving? you told her. i am your wife jacaerys.” you hate the way the tears slip down your face but you cant help it any further, simply aching for some comfort from him. he grabs your face as his own tears slip down his face. “i did not plan to tell anyone my love i swear im sorry im so sorry i simply ran into her on my way out it was unavoidable. i did not mean to make you feel like this and it pains me that ive made you feel like this im so sorry i will never forgive myself.”

You believe him. Your hands go to cup his face and he leans into your palms as you wipe the tears from his face. “i am the only woman you love?” “the only one for the rest of my life. i will love you until my last breath.” he watches as a small grin takes over and feels a small relief wash over him. “then prove it.”

his brows raise mischievously and a grin takes over his face and your eager look. “i will spend everyday proving it, but for now i shall start by making you scream” You barely have anytime to process before his head disappears under your night gown and begins to lick at your growing wetness covered by your underwear. “jace dont tease me.” you feel him lightly bite your inner thigh before he pushes aside the fabric and eagerly begins to lick at your walls with a moan. “fuck ive missed this so much.” That night you can barley count how many times he made you cum on his tongue but it was all worth it to him to see that blissful look on your face and the way you basically passed out after he had finally pulled away from you.

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lady-ashfade · 8 months

Note

Hello. I saw that your wishes for Percy Jackson were clear. I wonder if you can write for yandere son percy jackson and mother reader?

Yandere Percy Jackson x Mom!reader (platonic obv)

-£ hope you don’t mind this being short! I have a lot of Fics to work on but I needed to make you something!

-£ warnings: Yandere behavior, being protective, and violent behavior.

Percy only likes your attention to be solely on him and no one else. Of for some reasons you are interacting with another kid he gets angry and starts to throw a fit to get you to pay attention. And you’d offend get calls from the school about Percy “pushing” or “biting” another child.

He’s a very needy child. Needing to be held by you, needs to play toys with you, even sometimes plays the hero to save you.

When you enrolled him in school you didn’t know how he would react. He would cause trouble to get sent home, do anything he could even finding a way to sneak out of the school. He was a trouble making.

It took some convincing to actually get him to stay in school

When he is slightly older he doesn’t acted out as much. He is hiding his actions away from you.

But expect percy to glare at any man he sees talking to you or even sending a glance your way.

Helping you with the groceries and refusing to let you carry a lot.

“Mama” he peeks his head into the kitchen, “I need help with this question.” and you of course help him. even tho he understood the small question.

Lets say what happened to Sally happened to you instead? He would actually go crazy. Killing the minotaur? The monster should be glad it died before he could stab it over and over again.

“Father if you are hearing this,” he spoke as he placed the blue jellybean into the fire while closing his eyes, “You failed to save the one person who I cared about. If you need my help, consider me out. I could careless about your war, or you.”

He didn’t want to be in camp at all, until he found out that you were alive.

Of course he jumped on that quest to safe you and didn’t even care if he got the lightning bolt. You could still be alive and that’s all he needed to hear.

He would tear Olympus down brick by brick and have the gods begging for mercy if he need to.

(If you catch my slight quote from the second book hats off to you)

#percy jackson x you #percy jackson #yandere percy jackson x reader #yandere percy jackson #platonic percy jackson #platonic yandere #plantonic percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x reader

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ghouldump · 2 months

Note

more loustat x chill/unbothered/oblivious fem reader PLEASE!!

maybe she's like been a part of their relationship for a while, and she like the fledgling of some other vampire, her and her maker were like chill and totally platonic he dipped at some point before she met loustat, and she like the sane one between them and unfortunately gets ignored/left out unfortunately

something like the scene from season 1 where Louis swims across the Mississippi river to get to Lestat, and like reader is there too cause she went w Louis and loustat being there dramatic selves while she's just like trying to talk it out like adults, and then it spirals into argument about her wanting to visit her maker because Lestat, and tbh Louis too, is petty like that

Also your iwtv fics are my life line omg!!🎀

L'amour De Ma Vie | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ while you love your companions, it is no secret that they oftentimes exclude you, and it isn't until you leave that they go into panic mode.

I love this idea, I hope you don't mind me changing it a little bit 🩷

“Louis, Y/n, you’re both soaking wet,” Lestat sat up from the bed.

Glancing at Louis, you could tell he was seconds away from slapping the smirk from Lestat’s face. The woman, Antoinette, wrapped one of the many sheets around her body, awkwardly staring at the two of you.

“Leave,” he told her, and just like that, she was up, running out of the bedroom.

“What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you, and we…found you,” you answered. Louis remained silent, staring at Lestat, his mind all over the place from his companion's betrayal.

You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you didn't. Your maker, Lucius, lives a polyamorous lifestyle. From the moment he turned you, becoming his daughter, you saw the plethora of women and men come and go. Eternity was too long for him to stay with one person, he'd jokingly say, leaving a trail of broken hearts.

“You put your lover on the song, and expect us to come running back to you,” Louis screamed at him.

“I wanted a clear voice, to get the-

“I don’t give a fuck,” Louis interrupted.

“Louis, we agreed that we would just talk it out,” you told him, watching as he was fuming, but he ignored your words.

“You two swam to Mississippi to find me,” Lestat kept the same expression, eyeing the both of you lustfully.

“I swim faster than I drive,” Louis said, his fangs coming out.

“We don’t have to fight like this, we can find a middle ground-

“No, why are you acting unbothered by him stepping out on both of us?” Louis asked.

“I’m not, polyamory isn’t a deal breaker for me, so I feel like-

“He cheated Y/n, whatever bullshit you were exposed to by your maker, doesn’t apply in this relationship,” he told you, catching you off guard.

“That isn’t what I’m saying, we came here because of the song but also because we’ve agreed to make things work”

“So why are you acting like you’re on his side?”

“Louis, what are you talking about? Just because I’m not as angry as you, doesn’t mean I am against you, Lucius has always said anger is-

“Do you always have to bring him up?” Lestat asked a slight frown in place.

“Lucius, Lucius, Lucius, are you with us, or Lucius?” He raised his voice. Furrowing your eyebrows, you were extremely confused, about how the conversation went from Lestat’s infidelity to your relationship with your maker.

“I’m beginning to question the same thing,” you said, backing away.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” Louis shook his head, mentally criticizing himself for his choice of words.

“It’s okay,” you smiled at him, before leaving, due to your small age difference in your makers, you were faster than Louis, going back home.

You hated this feeling, this emotion, how your mind made you think of things that never bothered you too much before, but now did. From the moment you joined their companionship, you were constantly unintentionally excluded. Even in public, you cringed at times you were assumed to be nothing more than a friend of the two.

Entering the home you had grown to love, you went upstairs, packing some clothing in a bag. You were thankful that Claudia was out hunting, knowing your departure wouldn’t be so smooth if she’d been home. Leaving the bedroom, the family portrait caught your eye, making you pout.

Claudia sat on the sofa, while you, stood next to Louis and Lestat, who leaned against the sofa. You had been hesitant to take the photos, but they all insisted. As the photographer went to snap the photo, Lestat glanced at you.

“Come closer,” he said, pulling you between him and Louis.

His hand on your waist, while Louis held your hand, you all looked like a happy family.

Wiping the tear from your eye, you thought of how despite the occasional exclusion, they did so much more that made you overlook the habit. Maybe you could just get away for a little while, before coming back home.

Glamouring your way from state to state, for well over 24 hours, before you arrived in Los Angeles. Lucius fit into the bright city where stars and beauty resided. As you drained the shipment driver, you felt your blood pumping, an adrenaline rush of excitement coursing through your veins. Lifting from the man, you looked around, sensing the familiar presence near.

“I knew it was you I was sensing,” you heard, smiling brightly, you climbed out of the truck, running into Lucius' arms. His expensive scent filled your nose, as you wiped your mouth.

“What are you wearing, my love, is this what they wear down in New Orleans?” he asked, staring at your outfit. Beige trousers, along with a light pink blouse, he shook his head in disapproval. He considered himself to have impeccable taste in clothing, but he also was old-fashioned in some ways.

“I couldn't have traveled practically in a dress,” you said.

“I am more than glad that you are here, but why so sudden? I mean, no letter or postcard”

“I just wanted to get away from home for a while”

“Those two aren't treating you right? They are easily replaceable, what have I always told you, an eternity is-

“too long to be stuck with the same person, and I should always explore my taste, I know, and Louis and Lestat are fine, I just wanted to get away, I was hoping I could stay with you, for some time, if that's alright”

“Of course, you are always welcome,” he said, walking you to his car.

He didn't live too far away, in an expensive neighborhood, his villa home, the most extravagant. Stepping out, you immediately noticed the woman, peaking from the window.

“You have company?”

“Yes, Sonya, she wants to be an actor”

“You said that weirdly, is she special, maybe a potential companion?” you asked him, grinning.

“She has very sweet blood and an equally cute face, so I keep her around”

“You were just talking about me being with the same people-

“My love, this is different, she has grown on me, yes, but I think we both know I’ll eventually crave something new,” he smirked, as he wrapped his arm around you, leading you into the house.

“Shameless,” you laughed.

“It's true, and the best part of all, when the sex is wonderful they always come running back, come on, I have an extra coffin, you can sleep in”

“I went all the way to Metairie, and nothing, what about you?” Louis announced, walking back into the house. Pacing the floor, while Lestat sat at the piano, staring off into space.

“Why is he back here, I thought we weren’t talking to him right now? And where’s Y/n?” Claudia asked.

“Not now Clau-

“She’s gone, she took some clothes and left,” Lestat finally spoke.

“She can’t be too far, we can still find her and-

“I’ve been all over Mississippi, searching, nothing, not a trace, I can’t think of where she could be and I’m not her m-” Stopping in his speech, he put his head down, clenching his jaw. His leg shook lightly, trying to contain his anger.

“What is it?” Louis asked as he and Claudia stared confusedly at him.

“She’s with her maker,” he managed to get out.

His eyes reddened as he grew angrier, Lestat couldn’t help that he was inherently jealous, unrighteously possessive, especially towards those he loved, and that was very few. You were the most relaxed, forgiving vampire he'd ever met. Extremely oblivious and doting, you'd brag to whoever would listen about how great he was.

While he and Louis held all of the attention, he could hear you bragging to some mortal how well-dressed Louis was, or how Lestat was the greatest musician to grace your ears. You would go on and on, stroking their egos, willingly accepting and loving their baggage Claudia, you were a precious gem, adored by them both.

Your personality was much calmer than theirs, while they regularly clashed, you'd be bringing up calming methods, or ignoring them, chatting with Claudia.

“You have the power over your anger, Lucius was once a cruel angry vampire until he realized it was pointless, if the situation can be fixed, then do it, but if not, leave it in the past,” you'd quote.

Lucius, Lestat hated the man greatly, despite never coming across him before. Suppose his hate began from the respect you held for the man. He was around the same age as Lestat, from Italy, and was very handsome, he'd heard you say before.

He wished he could undo time so that he could become your maker. His blood in your veins, your heart in sync with his own, his fully, bound by more than your vow of companionship. While Louis only hated the man for the weird lifestyle habits he passed along to you, Lestat loathed the idea of another being nearly as perfect as he was to you.

“Lucius speaks French too, although he's more fluent in Italian”

“Lucius is also into fashion, he used to dress me all the time”

“Lucius was once a part of an opera, but he ended up causing a bit of drama because he slept with nearly everyone who worked there”

“Lucius…”

Lestat sat frozen seething at the thought of the man. He wanted nothing more than to kill him for making his way into your heart, he couldn't care less about the kind of relationship you'd shared with him.

“Uncle Les,” Claudia called out, exchanging a look with Louis.

“We can still get her to come home, he has sent her mail before,” looking around, he sent to the pile of mail, looking through and seeing the ripped-open envelope.

“Los Angeles, she's in Los Angeles, we can find her,” Louis approached Lestat, showing him the mail.

“She's gone, she's gone back to him and left us,” Lestat mumbled to himself, already crying.

“Hey, we’re gonna find her and she'll hear out, she’ll come back home,” Louis told Lestat, also trying to convince himself, as tears dropped from his eyes.

“I’m going to bed,” Lestat sulked.

“So you can cry all night? Do you want Y/n to come back or not, I sure as hell got used to some peace around here, we have the address, we can easily find a way out there, stop being so dramatic,” Claudia screamed at him.

“I preferred her quiet,” he said, sniffling.

“We can get her back home, you know how she is, she'll want to talk it out before we're back on the road”

“The insufferable therapy sessions,” he chimed in, as he wiped his eyes.

“Exactly, we can start planning right now,” Louis said, his companion nodded in agreement.

“How much do I need to pack?” Claudia asked.

“What makes you think you could come?” Lestat asked her, crossing his legs.

“Because I care about Y/n too”

“We won't be gone for long Claudia, we're just trying to get her to come back home,” Louis said to her, watching as she stepped away.

“If Y/n was here, she would not be okay with you just leaving me here,” she said, stomping upstairs.

“Where should we start?”

“Why don’t you turn Sonya? It’s so obvious that you care about her?” You asked Lucius as you danced to the classical record, in the considerably large living room. Wearing the custom gown he'd gifted you, both of your mouths were covered in blood from the guest of the orgy he'd hosted.

It had been nearly a week of spending time with him, and you were enjoying every moment of the easygoing, carefree life.

“None of this music is as good as it once was, going to see Paganini, I had never heard an instrument played so beautifully,” he shook his head, ignoring your question.

“Lucius,” you called his name knowingly, forcing him to look at you.

“I can't turn her, I…I love her,” he admitted, dipping you.

“If you love her, you'd turn her, and you both can have eternity together,” you told him, but he smiled, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“If I love her, then I'll let her live, have children of her own, and pass on as a pretty little elderly woman,” he said.

“Very noble of you,” you joked.

“I guess, but I’ll hold on until that time comes, I have another two years, and she’ll be twenty-seven”

“Aw, Lucius, are you sure you don't want me to do it?” you asked, as he continued to dance.

“Love looks different for everyone, my love, you, of all people, understand that,” he chuckled.

“I guess you're right”

“I suppose that is why your lovers are about to burst into my home,” he said with a smile, as he held you close.

“Yeah, probably, wait, wh-

Just then, the front door burst open, Lestat and Louis storming it, although, they had different targets, rushing over. Louis stood in front of you, pulling you away, into his arms, already pleading that you forgive him for how he spoke and his recent habit of exclusion.

While Lestat instantly had Lucius against the wall, his hand to his throat. Your maker only laughed, you truly learned well, both of these men wrapped completely around your finger, and you didn't even realize it.

“Lestat, don't,” you told him, hearing his chaotic thoughts, he wanted Lucius dead.

“You leave without a word, in the middle of the night. Countless arguments, and the moment he comes up, you up and leave me, leave us,” he screamed.

“We can talk about it, but I need you to let him go, I don't want to see you two fighting, so please, just release him,” you said, exhaling a breath of air, as he let go, growling at Lucius, who nonchalantly walked to you.

“You've done so well, my love, they're like your two little dogs,” he laughed, turning off the music.

“Lucius,” you warned lightly, as he pulled you close to whisper into your ear.

“I’ll give you a bit of privacy, I presume you won't be here when am back, I want you to reach out more often, it has been fun since you've been back home”

“I will,” you nodded.

“Wonderful, I love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as he went outside, flying into the air in an instant.

“What are you two doing here?” you asked them, wiping your mouth.

“What are we doing here? Did you forget that you have companions, or did you not care?” Lestat asked angrily.

“You up and left, you didn't even leave a note,” Louis said.

“Did you not care when you were in Mississippi, did you care when you brought up upbringing as if it was an insult?” the words shut them up, the guilt evident, in their eyes.

“Do you love him more, you went back to your maker because you want him more, we haven't been enough for you,” Lestat spoke.

“I'm sorry for what I said to you, I was angry and I misdirected my anger and I didn't mean to do that, especially to you,” Louis apologized.

“Apologizing is pointless, you love him more than any of us, I just need to hear you say it, perhaps that will give me the closure I need, say Lestat, I never loved you-

Bursting out laughing, you covered your mouth, waving your hand apologetically at the two.

“I'm sorry, but you two are drama queens,” you laughed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I didn't even take all of my clothes, or my coffin if I was leaving, I would be taking that because it’s custom,” you told them.

“Why didn't you say that in a letter?” Louis asked you.

“Because I thought about leaving for good, but then I considered how much I love you both, yes, I am oftentimes left out, but when I'm not, I feel like I'm on top of the world, and as you said, we have gotten into countless of arguments, why would I just because you brought up Lucius?”

“You're always bringing him up, comparing-

“I’m not comparing the two of you, you have a few things in common, it has only been a handful of times, but you only like the attention on you, you get so jealous at the thought of me talking about another man,” you laughed.

“Don't be ridiculous, and he's not nearly as good-looking as me,” he said.

“See, I never compared your looks, I know who looks better, Lucius doesn't come close”

“You too, Louis, jealous, worried that I wouldn't think that our relationship is enough and I’d go back to Lucius to practice his lifestyle, it's cute really, you both came scrambling out here, to win me back, I am touched and a few other things,” you continued as they approached you.

Immediately, Lestat was kissing your lips, holding you close, scared to let you slip away. Pushing away from him, you pulled Louis near, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Lestat stood behind you, kissing your neck, and tearing the dress.

“Where’s Claudia?” you asked through your moans, as each article of clothing was peeled away. Stopping, the two slowly stared at each other, before looking at you.

“She’s in New Orleans”

“You left her in New Orleans, by herself? We need to leave now, why would you do that?” you yelled, going to pack your things.

“Wait, can we finish what we started?” Louis asked his hand over the painfully stiff sensation between his legs.

“No, we need to get back to her”

“I hate when the brat is right”

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac x reader #louis x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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thesithdiaries · 3 months

Text

Prisoner (Part 1)

Set: Middle of season 1 to beginning of season 2

Pairing: (kind of) Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon female!reader, (platonic) overprotective!Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon female!reader

Warnings: typical westori violence, curse words/spoilers for both seasons but especially season 2, everyone being absolutely stupid, conversations about characters that were 💀, major character death, talks of arranged marriage, being made prisoner, bruises, scrapes, minor talk about weight and not eating

Plot: One of Viserys Targaryen’s final wishes was to see them married. To please him, Rhaenyra allowed her daughter to stay in the Red Keep alone, not knowing it would be a terrible mistake.

"Luke, what's wrong?" You asked, a sense of dread washing over your body.

Your brother sat there, looking panicked, twiddling his fingers. "Vaemond Velaryon has questioned my legitimacy… Mother said we're going to King’s Landing."

"It’ll be alright," you assured him, lightly squeezing his hands. "This matter will be settled in front of the court and nothing will come of it."

Lucerys did not believe your words. All his insecurities about his parentage resurfaced. He had tried to suppress them because his siblings never treated it like an issue; on the contrary, you seemed proud.

"What are you two doing?" Jace walked into the sitting area and plopped down beside his sister.

You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. "There are other places to sit, Jace."

"It all seems occupied to me," he laughed, but it quickly died down when he sensed the tension in the room. "What is it?"

Luke stared at the ground, not wanting to repeat it. You glanced at Jace with a frown and gave a short nod, making him sigh.

Sniffles could be heard across the room.

Rhaenyra stood in the middle of her chambers, holding a piece of parchment that had arrived by raven. Her eyes, reddened and swollen, stared at the floor, tears slowly falling down her cheeks.

You and Jace wept silently, while Luke sat on the floor, trying to process the news.

Harwin Strong had died. Their father was gone.

Rhaenyra had revealed the truth after Harwin and Lionel left for Harrenhal. You and your siblings had suspicions but were never brave enough to ask her directly. Jacaerys was the one who finally did it after they left the Red Keep.

In hindsight, it all made sense: the way Harwin visited them as often as he could, all the gifts and flowers, the affection he showered on them, even the training sessions. Even joining them to get a dragon egg for Joffrey…

… It was also clear to them that Laenor knew and agreed with the situation.

The three of them understood how dangerous this secret was. If others found out that Laenor was not their father, they would be branded as bastards, and their mother's claim to the Iron Throne would vanish.

After Laena’s funeral and Laenor’s death, you and Jace had a conversation about everything.

Viserys had protected them that night. He could have easily told everyone the truth, but he did not. Instead, he chose to threaten anyone who would dare question their parentage, including his wife and his sons.

You vowed to protect each other and your family. You knew that someday, someone would challenge their claim to Driftmark. Corlys always wanted Luke to be Lord of the Tides, but Luke did not want it. He declined the offer multiple times, content to remain a prince if it meant his family was still alive.

---

The Red Keep felt strange, unfamiliar.

Seven-pointed stars hung on the walls, while the House Targaryen symbols and tapestries had disappeared. You could tell that Daemon and your mother were not happy about these changes.

As Daemon and Rhaenyra went to see the King, you and Luke followed Jace to the courtyard. He was reminiscing about childhood antics.

"Everything will go in our favor," you promised Luke, noticing his worried expression. "Mother will not let Vaemond get away with this."

"No one would question me being heir to Driftmark if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong."

"Lucerys!" You softly reprimanded him.

"It doesn't matter what they think," Jace added.

You were about to speak when gasps and applause erupted nearby. As you walked together towards the commotion, Jace held your hand, prepared for anything.

It was Ser Criston Cole and their uncle Aemond. They had not seen them in six years, since the incident at Driftmark. Lucerys tensed, noticing Aemond's eyepatch.

"Nephews, niece… have you come to train?" Aemond asked.

"I have," you announced, stepping forward. Jace's eyes widened as he watched you pick up a sword.

Aemond, his face a mask of confidence, addressed you with a slight smirk. "Ready to learn, niece?"

You replied defiantly, "Let's see what you can teach me, uncle."

Their swords clashed, the sound ringing out across the courtyard. Aemond's initial strikes were powerful and precise, but you met them with equal force and skill.

Jace, tense and protective, clenched his fists. "She shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, stepping forward as if to intervene. Luke quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him back.

"She can handle herself," Luke insisted, though his eyes never left the duel, also scared for his sister.

You and Aemond moved with speed and precision. The intensity of the fight increased, and the crowd's murmurs grew louder. It was no longer a mere training session, Aemond wanted you to suffer.

His smirk faded, replaced by a look of concentration and annoyance. Your determination was shining through, every move demonstrating your skill and strength. As you continued, it became clear that neither had the advantage.

Finally, Criston Cole had enough and carefully stepped in the middle to stop it. You both stepped back, breathing heavily. The courtyard fell silent.

Aemond nodded, lowering his sword. "Well fought, niece."

You, equally breathless, feeling proud of yourself and the outcome. "Thank you, uncle."

Jace, still held back by Luke, relaxed and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"See? She's alright," Luke whispered.

Jace scoffed, growing angrier by the second. You were grinning as you received praise from the crowd, but your smile faded when you turned to see your brothers. Jace held your gaze, silently letting you know of his displeasure.

As everyone left the courtyard to head towards the Throne Room, you approached them. "What did you think?" you wondered shyly, even though you knew what the answer would be.

"It was brilliant," Luke admitted. "I knew Daemon was overseeing your training, but I didn't expect this."

"And you?" You asked Jace directly. He clenched his jaw.

"I thought it was foolish, exposing yourself that way and with him, of all people." You lowered her head, while Luke sighed. "Let's go. Mother is probably waiting for us."

---

You stood between Daemon and Jace in the Throne Room. Jace had briefly told Daemon what had happened outside. Although proud that you could hold her own against Aemond, Daemon did not want to let you out of his sight for fear you would do something like that again.

"You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides," Vaemond Velaryon ranted. "And gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this..."

"Say it," Daemon dared.

Vaemond smirked. "Her children are bastards! And she and her daughter are whores."

"I… will have your tongue for that," King Viserys said, standing up from the Iron Throne.

Jacaerys quickly wrapped his arms around you, holding your face against his chest so you wouldn't witness what was about to happen.

In the blink of an eye, Daemon stood behind him and sliced his head in half. The court gasped at the sight. "He can keep his tongue."

"Disarm him!" Otto Hightower ordered.

"No need," Daemon said, returning to his family's side. You were shaking. Even though you hadn't seen it, the noise alone would haunt your dreams. On the other side of the room, Aemond’s attention was on you. On how your bastard brother held you close, to protect you from the bloody sight.

Part 2

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velarion imagine #lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon imagine

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deathbxnny · 6 months

Note

helloo, platonic ratio, aventurine and sunday with a teen!reader like mafuyu asahina?

Hello Anon! Thank you for the great request, and I'll hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Reader is a teen, platonic relationships, mentions of potential suicidal thoughts, fluff, older brother figures hsr men, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》DR. RATIO

When he first took you under his wing as a student, he was pleased with your work ethic and especially your grades. You studied all the time, excelling in everything and any subject. But despite all of these great achievements, he still noticed a certain... emptiness to you.

It started out with him noting that you never did anything else BUT studying, which he didn't think was healthy either. After digging deeper, he found out that you once had a love for music that was stomped out by your previous caretakers. And that alone made him immideatly realise many concerning things about you that needed to be helped.

He tried his best to handle the situation with the care it needed and slowly ease you into a feeling of safety for your passions around him. He'll slowly get you back into the art of music after he got you professional help, too, by asking you to sing/play him songs whilst he worked.

》AVENTURINE

Aventurine immideatly noticed something off about you, when he took you under his wing as a little assistant. You were kind, generous and helpful on the surface, but he could feel the darkness festering under it anyways. You were good at hiding the pain, yet he knew better than to think that you could keep it up forever.

He saw a part of himself in you, when he found out that the darkness had eventually turned into a need to end it all. He understood and related, which is why he wanted to save you, if he couldn't save himself. He knew about your passions and how you had to give them up when coming to the IPC and so he decided to simply make you return to what you once were.

He took you to musicals, operas, live shows, theaters, and anything else that could potentially feature music. Aventurine somehow also figured out what instrument you used to love playing and bought you the most expensive one he could get his hands on, on top of tutoring lessons if you needed them to get back into it. He was hellbent into turning you back into you once were, before he finally says goodbye to the world himself.

》SUNDAY

Hiding any form of emotions from Sunday was absolutely impossible, something he made very clear from the beginning. He noticed the way your eyes lost their light whenever no one was around, the way you'd always give everyone painfully empty smiles. But he didn't confront you on it. Not at first, at least.

He observed you for a while instead, never really letting you out of his line of sight as he began watching the way you began dipping lower and lower mentally, the more you lost your passion for anything. When he noticed you giving up your love for music too, he decided to finally confront you. He tried to be gentle and soft-spoken, even using his abilities if he had to, to find the root of the issue.

Once he gets you the help you need, he'll make it his personal mission to also help you feel better around the estate. He'll have your favorite music playing often, make plays for you to sing in, and also ask Robin to rekindle your love for your passions. He hopes that with enough patience and care, you'll be okay again and finally live out your life like a young teen should.

Okay, I hope this was alright for you, Anon, and thank you again for your request!!<33

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hawtlineblingz · 2 months

Text

My Thoughts on Zayne's Hidden Motive Discourse

pic : chibiayato (x)

Disclaimer : this post is made as a response and purely written by my understanding and opinion on recent discourse that happened on tiktok regarding the hate and mischaracterization on Zayne. This post isn't proof read and English is not my first spoken language so i appologize for bad grammar / spelling mistakes and i hope my points and arguments can came trough correcty.

! DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER PLATFORM (link shares are okay) !

Context :

I'd like to put out my arguments, as proof that i highly do not support the narration, the hate train from TikTok community has on zayne saying "they made him a pushover wattpad boy on this card" and said this card is Zayne being very OOC.

Before putting out my thoughts. I want to point out that i wrote this based on the game's JP Dub because i understood Japanese better and i just want to say that there are alot of contexts and implied language that unfortunatelly got lost on the EN translations.

[Proof media shown below]

Quick summary of the card and proofs :

At the beginning of this memory MC got injured on a mission and zayne suddenly was positioned as the helping medical staff for the area that MC we're working on though he lied about his reasoning during this moment.

Their interaction is highly implied that zayne communicates with her as Zayne the Doctor and Zayne as MC's romantic partner.

Its clear that zayne uses different words when talking with her as a Doctor and as a non platonic partner and so is his tone when speaking.

Proof 1 :

After treating her wound as a doctor, he put MC hair behind her ears and, told her that he's going back to work.

(Vid down below)

If u watch the JP dub u can clearly tell this is him playing 2 different figures at the same time.

Proof 2 :

When MC we're talking to the kid that she saved, Alfred, he told her that she was very strong, and she asked if he wants to see her solid abs. But then Zayne came in, while coughing, and said

Though on the JP dub he says "That's useless, a kid shouldn't be seeing that". In a teasing way, though his tone is very stoic and he said it with a poker face.

And after that he spoke to her switching being a doctor and a partner again, when he told her to wait in the treating room 5. He does this for litterally the whole menoria, but i think 2 examples are enough as a proof.

Proof 3 :

The mention of "fortune telling". A reference to Zayne's MYTH 2. It's not really important but i just wanna point this one out to argue that during this conversation Zayne n MC clearly have a healthy realtionship he mentions alot about her wellbeing as a very important part of his stress management, seeing her well and able to banter with him put his mind at ease, knowing MC's nature to be a little bit reckless and clumsy.

Proof 4 :

When Alfred told MC and Zayne that they we're invited to the farewell ceremony, and asked them if they could attend, she bargained Zayne for his time to appreciate the people on the area, calling him "医者のおじさん" or Uncle Doctor. And Zayne referes to himself as both Uncle Doctor and Brother Doctor or "医者のお兄さん" now this is very important. Because this shows a concrete proof that Zayne has been playing 2 person figures during his time at the local's hospital. As Dr. Zayne and 'just' Zayne.

On the JP dub he said "Uncle Doctor might be busy, but Brother Doctor might have some time to spare". This important context is basically not translated well on the EN dub. And he is not acting OOC.

Proof 5 :

At the farewell ceremony, MC and Zayne talked about life and death meaning and value, as a hunter and a doctor. On this part u can clearly hear Zayne is a little bit upset on how reckless MC is as if she doesn't value her life enough to help people. She told him about already having her last wishes but she stopped herself because he interupted her, Zayne is upset, again, u can hear him clearly not happy at the way she positioned herself and her life against danger and death.

He made his boundaried clear especially having to positioned himself as a cardiac surgeon on how it's hard when he had touched someone's naked beating heart on his own palm, doing an OC-CPR. Trying to save that person.

During this time MC fell silent as she think about everything and rechoose her words, reminding herself how difficult it is to prevent and save someone from death.

Proof 6 :

When the lanterns being released to the sky MC said that the lights is beautiful, he nods at her saying "yes, its beautiful" but he didn't even turn around to look at the lantern, his eyes are glued to her posing for the picture. A VERY IMPORTANT POINT, he admited that he IS talking about her, not the lantern. You can tell on how his yearning for her is growing here, It's not everyday Zayne can be this transparent with his intentions especially when being asked.

Proof 7 :

As MC fell asleep on his car after the flight he asked if she wants him to drop him off at her place, but then he asked again, gently, if she wants to just stay at his place. Again, hints for his yearning on his voice.

NOW. This one has been a point of hate on Zayne because on the EN translation he said this :

While on JP he said "if u can't answer it now, i'm assuming it's a okay". Now this sentence implying a hint of worryness on how tired and sleepy she was.

The people on tiktok pointed out that Zayne did not care about her consent while on the card, is clearly said that MC did KNEW and RECALL she went straight to Zayne's house. The situation isn't like as if Zayne took her somewhere shady without her consent. And he treated her with so much care by cooking her breakfast.

Proof 8 :

Now here Greyson exposes Zayne to MC that he insisted that he wanted to took the medical mission on a high risk quaranteened area, even though he was positioned on a less dangerous area beforehand. He even said Zayne acts like he doesn't care much trough his words but Zayne is actually CARES and WORRIES about her alot.

We can see trough out his latest cards, every emotions are drawn on his voice and body language.

Proof 9 :

During this part it stated that Zayne did gave MC permission to overstep his boundaries by pursing his lips, giving permission MC to touch his skin.

- every convo during this part is Zayne flirting with MC and the boombayah happened and they took a nice nap-

Proof 10 :

Post sex nap convo between Zayne n MC shows how Zayne has changed as a person, his tone is very gentle and witty, clearly he's comfortable with her, and another clear sign of a healthy relationship. On this moment, Zayne starts up a topic about being open, and straightforward is very important to him, but MC revoked Zayne by saying he also isn't being transparent with her, Zayne kisses her forehead and said that he hates hearing things about her wellbeing from other people, it made him feel like an outsider. And the rest of the conversations is MC and Zayne giving each other reassurance regarding keeping each other safe and sound.

Now i'd like to mention a few things from Zayne's previous card, Snowy Serenity, and a few things from Zayne's Find Tobias' (Abyssal Chaos) coversations with MC.

That the main 2 problems within Zayne and MC's relationship are :

1. Zayne is really bad at letting people hear what they wanted to hear even if it's to give the other person a sense of security, he sometimes a bit too blunt and too honest, but he's willing to work it out. This was also briefly mentioned on the Heartwork Routine Event.

2. Zayne and MC is struggling to be alot more open with each other because they don't want to worry their partner.

On Abyssal Chaos MC said that Zayne has changed by being more bold and flexible with her. Shown how much he's being alot more confident in engaging PDA.

The pattern with them is they both need something impactful and intimate to be able to open up. On Snowy Serenity Zayne was missing. And on Hidden Motive MC was injured. But after that theres an improvement between their relationship as the intimacy gave them a safe space to be open to one and another.

The Zayne hate on TikTok mainly focuses on how they said Zayne is turning into another wattpad boy and everything is OOC, but from the proofs i have stated above clearly i dont agree with that because i see it as Zayne and MC are both working out their relationship, and Zayne is constantly working himself up to be a better person who is willing to communicate.

The crowd on TikTok are blaming Infold and Sylus for "dragging" Zayne into another Wattpad based character while, again, I think Zayne character development is very well written, i don't feel like this card is fanservice-y, even though this whole game is a fanservice, i get it, it's one of the selling point of an otome game.

The thing with Zayne being bolder when it comes to intimacy shows on how much MC already trusts him, and how he has become very comfortable with her, Zayne is the type of person who has a habit of bottling his emotions, even though he got praised by almost everyone for his incredible self control. But Zayne on this timeline is a normal human being with physical - spiritual needs and emotions, not a demigod, not a mythical creature. Zayne himself has a breaking point considering how much restraint, yearning, has been closed of from affections he already been trough growing up. AND him letting loose his self control and lowering his guard down is not an incredibly OOC act, in fact most of the time initiated the intimate acts as shown on his previous cards, once MC flags up her green flag he took the lead.

Plus, this is a relationship is between two consenting adults. Everyone can tell this isn't the first time they engage in intimate / sexual activity.

As time goes by and the story progresses obviously we're going to see changes, and process within the characters. Zayne is not a block of wood and he is not an exception. Blaming Sylus and Infold writter for this is also not a solution, even Sylus himself is not a typical wattpad / booktok CEO. Though, again in otome games it's very common to have tropes between the love interest and the protagonist. I just hope the hate on Zayne stops, because i honestly enjoys his character writing. Same with the TikTok community hate on Xavier saying he gr00med MC, and saying Caleb is into inc3st relationship, i don't even understood how the mischaracterization on the boys are so severe on TikTok it's kind of sad.

Infold writers incorporates so many linguistics and cultural reference that's also a shame it's not translated well enough to the EN sub and dub so often times people missed their opportunity to understand why the card title is "Hidden Motive".

Ending statement from me is that i wish many players would do their own indepth reading and understanding before making a misleading scene on social media, this is why sometimes a certain fandom / community can't have nice things because of their own fandom and actions can lead to a train of hate and misconceptions regarding the game and our boys.

Proofs exhibit below

I highly suggest to watch the whole card on EN dub and other language dub (on this case its JP dub) as a comparison because the underlying contexts on some of the sentences are different.

#love and deepspace #lnds #zayne #l&ds #zayne love and deepspace #xavier #sylus #rafayel #zayne x mc #zayne x reader

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python333 · 1 year

Note

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—”

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of.

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you.

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece.

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?”

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder.

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up.

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.”

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder.

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.”

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up.

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.”

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about.

It was their stupid accents you hated.

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy?

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up.

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.”

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?”

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?”

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.”

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return.

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.”

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.”

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers.

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open.

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price.

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap.

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk.

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?”

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well.

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.”

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?”

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.”

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.”

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.”

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact.

“Mhm,” Ghost hums.

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.”

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle.

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].”

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?”

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.”

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—”

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.”

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic.

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought.

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you.

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.”

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.”

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.”

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.”

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort.

“Muppet?”

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.”

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.”

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?”

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—”

“Ghost, don’t start—”

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

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obsessedwrhys · 1 month

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ BROKEN FRAGMENTS

ᯓ★ Kurt finds you hurting yourself. Graphic description of cuts and scars/gore (?), SH, comfort, can be read as platonically or intimately. Reader is fem!! (I do not condone to anything in this fic. I just wanted to provide comfort to those who need the love they deserve.)

۫ ꣑ৎ Please reach out to someone if you're going through a tough time. Do not suffer in silence. YOU deserve to feel safe just like many others. Warning, this may be triggering for some so PLS DONT FORCE YOURSELF TO READ IF ITS TOO MUCH

ᯓ★

How you found yourself starting this habit was like a haze. You don't remember it all that well, but the emotions, the overwhelming emotion of guilt and pain always made it feel like it was just yesterday.

You had your reasons to carry out such acts.

But you knew that those reasons weren't an excuse for this.

Deep down you knew it was bad... but if it's bad, why does it make you feel so much better?

Should you feel guilty for wanting to be better?

After all, you never really knew how to express yourself... it always felt like this was the only way for it.

You made your way through the corridors of the mansion. The others had went for a mission so it was just you left behind. Why you weren't chosen to go was unclear but you had a grudge on why.

You tried your hardest to ignore it but you can feel how everybody was beginning to worry about you.

Moments where they'd take short glances of you...

Asking you if you wanted to hangout more...

Even secret talks regarding your wellbeing...

You'd be an idiot if you chose to believe your change of behaviour wasn't taking its effects on the others. You just feel like you've lost the spark you used to have in you. But can they blame you when you no longer have the energy to fight?

You retreated to your room, sitting on your bed to stare at the ground for a good few seconds before letting out a sigh. You searched through your drawers, looking for the exact thing you needed to get your mind off of these thoughts.

You really wanna stop... but it's so hard to...

Your hand just itches each time...

Your mind was a race track where the thoughts won't stop until one finally crashes.

You pulled up the sleeve of your hoodie, collection of scars that went back to weeks ago. Maybe even months. You're not sure and you could care less about it.

One...

Two....

Three....

Four.........

You continued on, the sight of the blood made you feel alive again. It was like you've pulled the curtain aside to reveal what was behind it. Your flesh and blood. Your very proof of existence. To prove you were real and breathing.

However that moment of euphoria soon vanished... you stare, almost blankly at the cuts as the blood continued on dripping out.

Why do you never feel good enough?

When will the time come where this moment will just be a faded memory?

Why—

Suddenly there was a knock on the door but before you could respond, it opened by itself.

"(Y/N) I wanted to—"

The sight left him quiet. Kurt, who's smile was on his face dropped immediately the second he saw what was happening. You stare back, guilt heavy in your gaze as your face turned red.

Oh nononononono....

Whatdoyoudo?run??hide???kickhimout???

Before you can even think of how to act, he was the first to act, he took a few steps inside your room before closing the door shut behind him. He approaches you, carefully, almost like you were a wild animal he didn't wanna scare off because it was clear you felt tensed and afraid of how he may react.

Once he was close enough, he looked at you with a concerned expression on his face. It was visible to see that he was more worried about your wellbeing than anything right now.

"Do you wanna talk?" He knelt down in front of you, his eyes roamed over your body to see just how much harm you’ve done to yourself.

You look at him, afraid to speak. Afraid he may not understand and right away, he understood what you were trying to express in your eyes and he tilts his head with a sympathic smile.

"…I’m not angry at you" He said, a soft and understanding expression on his face as he looked at you.

Just then, Kurt slowly reaches out to you and places his hands over yours, gently prying the blade from your hands. Even though the sight of the blood on your hands worries him, he manages to keep a calm and relaxed demeanor for your sake.

"Shhh. It's okay...it's okay..." He mumbles to you in a soft comforting tone as he sets the blade aside and gently take your bloody hands back in his.

Even though some may get on his. It didn't matter, all that mattered to him, was making you feel okay.

Sensing you didn't have the strength to speak... and seeing the tears forming in your eyes. He caresses the sides of your face to wipe the tears away with his thumb. His touch was gentle and in a way it comforted you.

Your avoiding eyes finally locked with his, just to be met with his warm and soft yellow eyes that made your heart melt. Despite how seeing the slight fear in your own eyes made his heart ache, he manages to give you a soft smile.

"It's going to be okay..." He assured as he held you closely against his chest, gently rubbing your back in a soothing manner. He was slightly surprised at how small your body felt in his arms, but that just made him want to hold you more tightly in his arms and tell you that everything would be alright.

"You're not alone... I'm here for you. I promise..." He softly placed his hand on the back of your head and gently stroked your hair.

His words and how he was treating you made you feel seen.

Cared for.

Loved.

"I'm sorry" You tried to stop your tears but you were unable to hold everything in anymore. At the same time, the burn of the cut made your skin itch.

"Shhh... it's okay" He muttered, holding you tighter to have you cry on his chest.

"You don't have to apologize... Shhh... it's going to be alright..." He continued on stroking your hair comfortingly while he rest his head on top of yours.

Kurt hold you closely to his chest, his arms wrapped around you as you cried like your lungs were burning. His cheek was now rested against the top of your head and how he carried on to make gentle hushing noises in an attempt to soothe you made you feel appeased.

"You're safe... you're safe... I promise you’re safe with me" He said.

The room was quiet as you two remained in each other's arms. No amount of words could express how belonged you felt in his embrace. Even though your face was a mess of tears and snot, he didn't care if it was getting all over his shirt because none of that mess is equal to the situation you're in right now.

By the time you have calmed down, he felt it was the okay time to treat your scars now. Being as gentle as he could, he lifted your head so he could look at your self-inflicted wounds, his expression showing his concern but not a trace of judgement.

"Let me help you" He said softly, his voice just as gentle as his touch.

You watched when he got up to get a band aid kit from your closet. Then returning back on the bed, the mattress sinking back down from his weight. Kurt grabbed a piece of clean towel and you couldn't help but find the sight of him dapping it gently on your cuts with such focus touching.

After applying a thin layer of antibiotics, he took a roll of sterile gauze from inside the first-aid kit and gently wrapped the gauze around your hands and arms to help stop the bleeding and prevent further scarring if possible. His touch was firm but tender, his fingers carefully wrapping the gauze around your wounds.

Once he had finished bandaging your hands and arms, he gently cupped your face in his hands and looked at you with care in his eyes.

"Are you feeling better now?" He asked and you hesitated... then nodded.

Seeing you nod made him feel a bit relieved, but he could still sense that you were feeling vulnerable and fearful. He looks at you with a glint of hope.

"You don't have to tell me everything now... let's take it slowly... hm?" He said and you nodded again, a grateful smile on your face.

"Mein hübsches mädchen" He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours as he closes his eyes.

"Lieber Gott, bitte schütze dieses Mädchen vor allem Bösen und Schaden. Helft ihr, sich zu erholen und zu heilen. Schenke ihr Frieden und Trost in dieser schwierigen Zeit" He uttered, a prayer you assumed, his voice was small and hushed that it was comforting listening to him.

When he finally opened his eyes, he smiles at you, his fangs becoming noticeable as well.

"What do you say we raid the kitchen? Hm?" He asked and with that playful look on his face. It was hard to say no.

"Yeah..." You answered and he gave you one last squeeze of a hug.

"I know you're hurt and scared, mein liebling. But I promise I'll always be here for you. Together we can get through anything" He said, his words being enough to make you feel better now.

"Thank you"

Deep down you knew your habits would still haunt you but at least now you felt there was somebody there for you, to help and care for you.

Healing itself has no end but is a lifelong journey.

A journey Kurt is willing to go on with you.

#writing this csuse i need this from my comfort character rn #idk who else also needs this #x reader #fluff #angst #comfort #x men 97 #x men #x men x reader #x men 97 x reader #nightcrawler #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler xmen #kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner x you #x men nightcrawler

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yawujin · 5 months

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Hiiiiii if you don't mind can you pls write v3 boys x reader who can't read social cues for the life of them and need to be told directly to understand a situation.

For example: *one of the boys shows romantic interest*

Reader: "WOW so friendly"

The more I describe it the more it sounds like Marinette from miraculous ladybug

Pls&thx

i've never really written something like this so i hope you like how it turned out anon! ദ്ദി( ˶^ᗜ^˶ )

request | how the v3 boys would react to reader that isn't good with social cues

type | react , established relationship , non killing game , gender neutral reader

shuichi saihara ♡

he's trying his best to make it known that he likes you

kaito and maki have definitely noticed how he's grown so fond of you

although he had to tell kaito straight up that he liked you

well, he finally does it, confessing to you

"to be honest with you, (Y/N), i really like hanging around you..."

can he make it any more obvious?

no, seriously, can he?

you thank him and say you'd love to hang out more!

he instantly realizes he needs to be more clear

"no! i mean, i like you, alot... as in more than a friend..."

you encourage him to be more outspoken in the future

rantaro amami ♡

tries to confess to you in a lowkey way

but once he realizes you don't really get what he's saying

he ups the ante

he starts showing more affection towards you

and then finally he tries again

"you know i really like you, right (Y/N)?"

he explains that he wants to go on a date to show his likeness

ohhh he likes me in that way you think to yourself

K1B0/kiibo ♡

firstly, he does everything you want him to do because he thinks that's how easy it will be to get you to realize he likes you

but it's not

secondly, he tries to just straight up tell you but it's hard to express his emotions

finally, he uses himself to print out a note that has his messy handwriting all over it

who knew he could be so forward when writing?

it read "i love you, (Y/N)! i hope you accept my feelings"

and it definitely got the message across

korekiyo shinguji ♡

he's pretty nonchalant so it's difficult at first for him

he knows that gift giving is a pretty common way for someome to show their likeness towards someone

so he tries that (althought he might not be the best at giving gifts)

but when he does

you just think he's being friendly

kiyo, just like rantaro, will try showing more affection towards you

he touches your arms, plays with your hair etc

"everything about you is so wonderful..."

"i would like for you to share that wonder with me"

and that gets the message across

kaito momota ♡

he would realize that you probably took his outright profession of love to you and chalked it up to him just being a good friend

as per usual

he woke up in a cold sweat about this and decided that starting tomorrow he'll be extra kind towards you

over the course of a few days, he creates a nickname for you

you guys hang out together even more you two are alone more often than not now

he held on to both of your hands and squeezed them

"(Y/N), i'm not sure else how to say this but...will you go out with me sometime?"

gonta gokuhara ♡

gonta accomodates you and invites you everywhere

he just wants to show that he likes you!

he thought it was working for a while until

"you're such a good friend, gonta!"

he shakes his head 'no'

"gonta want him and (Y/N) to be more than friends..."

you understood but was taken aback

he shys away almost instantly

"only if that what (Y/N) want!"

ryoma hoshi ♡

he gets it completely

he isn't a stranger to being outspoken so he's fine with telling you how things are straight up

it just so happens that he likes you a lot

so in this case, he asks:

"would you want to go out with me?" "tell me what you want and you'll get it."

your transition into a platonic relationship to a romantic one was easy

ryoma is easy to get along with <3

kokichi ouma ♡

he has to quickly find solutions on how to tell you his feelings without being too sappy about it

he isn't too good at that

he also wants to do it before he runs out of patience with himself

he does what he does best and pulls a prank on you

when you ask him why he did it he just says:

"isn't it obvious? it's because i like you."

is he being fr? you can never tell

but the confusion you had finally gets cleared up when you get outside confirmation from miu that he is falling hard for you

#danganronpa x reader #drv3 killing harmony #shuichi saihara x reader #rantaro amami x reader #kiibo x reader #drv3 k1b0 #korekiyo x reader #korekiyo shinguji #kaito momota x reader #gonta gokuhara x reader #ryoma hoshi x reader #kokichi ouma x reader #kaito momota #gonta gokuhara #ryoma hoshi #kokichi ouma #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa imagines

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danny-doodles · 11 days

Text

Steve’s Hobby

This is a short 2k blurb about one of my Steve hcs, I am only really good at critical analysis writing so I’m sorry if this is bad!! Creative writing isn’t my strong suit but I felt like I couldn’t really explain this hc in a drawing as well as writing it could.

Growing up Steve was often taught the importance of words from his father, thinking it would be useful for his son’s future in the business. Steve was never the best reader, letters jumping around the page made it too difficult, so instead he listened to everyone around him. Teachers, his parent’s coworkers, older kids, all of them taught him the importance of the meaning of words.

How certain words would make someone a town pariah yet others a god among men. Steve was a more quiet kid but as he grew up he also grew confident in his words. He could tear someone down with one sentence, ensuring they knew he was not to be messed with. That’s why he was so confused when he struggled in his english class, he knew the power of words and the many meanings, but his teacher never understood. Sure he made grammar errors, how no one else struggled with the dancing letters he didn’t get, but how could the teachers not understand his connections? Steve shouldn’t have to explain why the red of the handmaid’s cloaks represented the ripping of humanity from the women, it was so clear to him. Obviously the boar head could be comparable to the church, how could his teachers not make the connection?

Even Nancy didn’t understand, someone he considered smarter than him. He knew she was trying to be nice when she critiqued his college paper but it still left him in the fog. Basketball was war to him, a fight that was pointless with one but possible with many. A challenge that called for leadership and a strict order. Everyone had the roles, knew where and when to shoot, needed the ability to think quickly on their feet and not struggle under the pressure. Uniforms to not only separate from the enemy but to show they are a unit reaching for a common goal. It was so clear leaving no need to explain, especially to Nancy.

But she didn’t get it, no one got it.

Maybe he wasn’t as good with words as he thought.

Steve from then on fumbled his words when he got nervous, scared he would say something that made him sound dumb and point out his weakness with words. The concussions didn’t help either, making him take longer to grasp concepts. Reading felt nearly impossible, the headaches were unbearable. Not to mention the kids' comments, judgmental and brutal as if Steve didn’t have a reason to struggle in the first place.

Everyone around him loved to put him in a sudden spotlight and when he didn’t say the right line he was booed off stage and dealt with the looks of disappointment from his co stars for messing up. So Steve stuck to what he knew, his quick remarks. Were they bitchy? Yes, but not coated in malice like they used to be. Piggybacking off others points with sarcastic comments so the other person kept talking, anything to get the attention off him.

But Steve had a secret hobby that he shared with no one, not even with his platonic soulmate with a capital P Robin.

Steve wrote poetry.

Years of horrors that by law he couldn’t share that caused vicious nightmares and a clammy grasp on reality at times tended to keep Steve up. Another gift bestowed by his father though was a feeling of shame when sharing his emotions. Didn’t help that those emotions were typically down played or outright ignored by others. Therefore a bottle filled with his emotions rested in Steve’s chest, which after Vecna he really realized probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do. So Steve took to writing them down, but he did it for himself.

No need to explain everything, he knew what he meant, he knew every context of every word. He wrote on his experiences, his emotions. He wrote when he was happy, he wrote when he was sad. Steve wrote and wrote and found his love for words again. And god did it feel good, it felt like taking back his voice from a world that underappreciated it. In a weird way it felt like revisiting a relative he had last seen as a child, that sense of freedom and the loss of expectation because in their eyes he was still that little kid. All they wanted was to see someone they loved and to Steve the words welcomed him back with a hug that rivaled his Nonna Maria’s.

Steve would ponder over lines at random intervals of the day, biting his pencil between his teeth during the quiet hours at work or simply jotting down a line right before picking the kids up. Steve wrote so often he kept his small little notebook on him at all times, usually accompanied by a pencil bound to it with a rubber band. (Turns out having hearing aids and glasses made it really difficult to put pencils behind one's ears). At this point everyone had seen his notebook, pale blue with some star stickers because he never had a shortage of them. Everyone assumed it was for something different. Some thought it was grocery lists, to-do lists, something productive. Others thought it was like a pocket calendar with all his plans listed so he didn’t forget. Dustin insisted it was meant to hold the definitions of anything D&D related so Steve never forgot, meanwhile Robin argued it was to hold all the wonderfully obscure movie recommendations she loved to give. All of them were wrong though and Steve kind of adored it that way. He didn’t have to explain himself that way, he could continue to hide under the blankets. Steve no longer held his tongue out of fear of others but because he had an outlet he much rather prefer.

Listening now felt less like a pop quiz, waiting for him to mess up his response, it felt like an actual conversation. Steve may not speak up as much as he would have before the Upside Down but he fell back in love with his own voice and maybe one day he would feel confident enough to share it with the Party, but for now it was all his.

No matter how much they wanted to prove who was right, the kids and older teenagers never touched the book when it was rarely separated from Steve. Well...after someone tried to grab it and they learned they really shouldn’t touch it.

While at the Harrington house the Party were preparing for a campaign session when the argument about the pale binded pages was brought up again. Steve had left it on the kitchen counter while he went to the bathroom, and Mike decided he was done with the bickering. He shot up and went to retrieve and open the book but before he could grab it the book flew through the air.

All the heads turned and landed on El holding it in her hand, “We are not Steve, this is his. It is rude to invade his privacy, would you like me to watch you without telling you,” everyone quietly shook their heads, “Then we do not watch Steve without him knowing.”

That’s exactly when Steve walked back in, it takes one look across the room at all the embarrassed faces and El holding his book with frustration painting her eyes to know what had occurred while he was gone. He walks up, kisses El on her head and softly thanks her while taking back his little literature.

After that incident no one dared touch the book or face the wrath of their favorite mage. They would find out when Steve was ready for them to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That damn little book haunted Eddie’s thoughts. He knew Steve was not what he assumed him to be so anything was on the table, he had been wrong about the guy before who's to say he won’t be this time?

Of course Eddie wanted to respect Steve’s privacy because Eddie personally would be mortified if Steve had seen any of his notebooks, mainly because of the pages of lyrics that not so subtly hinted at an itsy bitsy affection for the badass babysitter. If that didn’t give Eddie away the random ‘Eddie Harrington’ and ‘Steve Munson’ with hearts all over would finish the job. So yeah, Eddie was not crazy to offer up any of his notebooks to venture into Steve’s book. He just had no idea the universe would present him with a much more favorable offer.

Steve and Eddie started hanging out a lot more after Vecna, no shocker considering they shared a hospital room, and soon the bat buddies would spend their time together outside of the hospital. That’s why it wasn’t surprising for Steve to let Eddie venture into Steve’s room while he went to pick up their lunch.

Eddie was somewhat of a curious cat, so when he spotted the notebook and some papers scattered on Steve’s desk he was like a moth to a flame. He softly glided his fingers over the blue cover and exhaled some breath in a soft laugh over the star stickers Steve oh so loved. It was the paper though that caught his eye when he finished observing the book. It looked like lyrics at first but then he realized some of the lines were too short to be lines, if anything they looked more like stanzas from a poem. Steve had poetry on his desk, did Steve read poetry? Thee Steve Harrington likes poetry? God his whole doctrine was garbage huh. Eddie moved the paper towards him and started to read.

Watchful gaze

Setules on the glass.

Wishful gaze

Silent pleas of escaping rolling in the mouth

Fingertips slipping through the veil,

Grasping for warm hands,

Receiving lukewarm.

Hesitant to grab.

Dependency clasping the palms

Such a feverish feeling

Poking at the appendages,

A coldness that numbs.

Gently gripping for the heat,

The balmy yields.

Smoke and simmers,

Arms rushing to sides

Frozen.

Yearning for ardor,

Turn not yet given,

Waiting for the impossible,

Waiting for the unobtainable,

So understanding.

So relieving.

So desperate.

So alone.

Standing for the calling.

So patient.

So pathetic.

Empty Hands by Steve H.

Eddie was staring at the very last line on the paper, utterly flabbergasted. Steve wrote this? Steve writes poetry?! Is that what resides in the little book? Before Eddie could even find the power to turn to the book to look, Steve walked into his room. Again a quick look is all Steve needed to take before he knew what happened in his absence.

“Oh! Uh..I’m guessing you read it.”

Eddie slowly looked back up while caressing the paper, “Yeah, you..um..you really wrote this? Is that…uh..what’s in your notebook? Cause I will admit I never would have guessed that.”

Steve started scratching his neck, “I don’t blame you,” he huffs, “But yeah I write poetry, helps to let some of the thoughts out considering our lives y'know?”

“I totally get it dude! Lord knows my lyrics are infected with the whole spring break bullhonkey. So..totally cool if you don’t want to tell me but, why is this one out of the book? Were you gonna write it into the book?” Eddie picked up the paper to place it next to the notebook and turned to face Steve.

“Actually I copied it from the notebook, I’m gonna, okay wait, you can’t tell anyone this-”

“Even Robin?” Eddie exaggerated his smile to look wild.

“Even Robin.” Steve nodded with his eyes shut.

Eddie put his hands together and swayed while standing, “Wowww look at me, lil old Eddie Munson getting to learn the secrets of the mysterious writer Steve Harrington.”

“Eddie, you want to know or not?” Steve sighed as he put his hands on his hips.

“Yes. Yes please,” Eddie eagerly replied, barely letting Steve finish his sentence.

“The last time I went to Indy with Robin to go shopping at their mall we went to a cafe. The bulletin board had a flier for a poetry night and I got curious I guess.”

“You gonna perform the poem there?”

“That’s the plan.”

Eddie could understand wanting a fresh slate when it came to having a reputation. “Craving anonymity? Must be tough considering you are Hawkin’s golden boy.”

Steve smiles brightly and Eddie sees his shoulders lose tension, tension Eddie didn’t even notice because he was so distracted by the fact that holy shit Steve is a poet. “Exactly.”

Honestly Eddie would give anything to hear more of Steve's hidden works, he grabs some of his hair and brings it to cover his mouth, “I know you don’t intend to tell the rest of the bunch, but uh..would you allow a humble bard to observe your lyrical performance?”

Eddie looks at Steve’s face for any hint of annoyance and finds none, instead he finds a look that he could hope to be correct in his guess is excitement.

“Really? You’d want to hear more, it's not confusing or stupid to you?” Steve softly smiled at Eddie, making him swoon inside.

“It's art! It doesn’t need to make sense, it just needs to make you feel good, who cares if others are confused. And for what its worth even if I’m not right on the money that poem made me feel Steve, I mean as the expert in self-expression it felt real and vulnerable, y’know.” Eddie had to shut himself up before he himself waxed poetry about just how much he is dying to hear more from Steve to learn more about him.

“Thanks Eddie.” Steve gazed at Eddie as if no one had ever told him that before. Which now that hes thinking about it that’s probably the truth. Guess Eddie needed to constantly remind him then.

Eddie smiled, mirroring Steves while bending at his waist, “Oh but of course my liege.”

“Oh my god okay Eddie cmon the food’s gonna get cold.”

Steve started to leave his room and Eddie rushed to follow him, “Now that I know what the book is filled with may I pretty please read it?” Rapidly blinking his eyelashes in an attempt to look innocent and pure but instead looking like a piece of dust got in his eyes.

“Nope.”

“Ugghhh c'mon Steve! Just imagine the look on the little hellions when they see me opening the book! God the jealousy! The feeling of betrayal when they see me reading Steve Harringtons’s treasure trove of text and they are none the wiser to what is inside. And the best part, I have permission! The power I would hold Steve! The possibility, I could use them like little puppets to do my bidding while they crave information I alone hold!”

“Eddie that sounds like a headache for me waiting to happen, they’re just gonna badger me to tell them because they would claim it’s unfair you know and they don’t.”

“Eh, their egos could take a little hit don’t you think?” Eddie was now resting his head on Steve’s shoulder as the younger started to bring the food out of the carry out bag.

“Can I read your lyric notebook?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide as his brain proceeded to remind him of every lyric he had written around his devotion to Steve. Red in the face Eddie responded quickly, “Nope! Mmm you smell that Stevie I’m so hungry, aren’t you?”

“Subtle Munson.”

“Tis my middle name.”

Steve fondly rolled his eyes, “Sure.”

As they settled down on the couch Eddie tracked Steve grabbing the remote, “So I can really watch you?”

Steve turned and looked at Eddie with a calmness on his face. “Yeah Eddie.”

Eddie grabbed his hair as Steve stared at him, “Cool, cool, it’s a date.” Eddie froze about to panic silently as he tried to fix his slip up.

“Yeah, it's a date.” The two looked at each other, neither wanting to look away. After a minute or so Steve turned on the TV and if the two fell asleep together it was their business.

#my writing #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson

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matramancer · 1 month

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NARUMI GEN WITH A MITSURI! LIKE READER🌸

🌸Synopsis: Although the elite forces of the first division were known for how strict and stern they are, there stands a girl who seems to act the polar opposite.

Mitsuri! reader masterlist

tags: narumi x reader, fem!reader, reader is similar to Mitsuri from KNY, fluff, reader is kikoru’s mentor sort of, narumi is a loser, can be platonic but might lean into romantic later on

Right off the bat, it’s no secret that the 1st Division is filled with elites. Led by Japan’s strongest, Gen Narumi, it houses some of the most talented, toughest hard hitters the Defense Force could be proud of.

Though most seem tight-lipped and stern, there exists one exception… one whose face full of smiles and bright demeanor seemed to make her shine amidst her more reserved peers.

You were thought of as a sort of spectacle in the Defense Force by newcomers and veterans alike. In a place where certain death came close often, where many souls have been hardened, you still greeted your comrades with a smile, your voice booming and sweet, gushing over delicious sakura mochi and voicing straightforward compliments to other officers with unparalleled excitement.

You were kind of the exact opposite of what one would envision a strong member of the corps. At least, compared to the serious and foreboding image that belonged to people like Captain Narumi.

In fact, everyone could agree that seeing the two of you next to each other when duty calls always felt jarring.

Despite his rather unruly, loser like behavior, Narumi was able to keep up his cool image once he suited up, his large and foreboding bayonet casting a large shadow as if to intimidate those who laid eyes on him (no one would guess that he was knee deep in a Yamazon addiction and pushing his rank on shooter games an hour prior). His soldiers were no different.

And there you were, a bright ray of sunshine with red dusted cheeks full of smiles. There was absolutely no way to hide your lively expression as you gushed over how cool Shinonome was, how Kikoru looked absolutely amazing with her axe, how you even complimented Kafka’s determined expression.

“Shinonome-chan! You’re as cool as always!” “The feel I’m getting from Kikoru-chan is so intense!” “Aaa! Kafka is working so hard today.” Your expression held all that you had to say.

And of course, the compliments you had for Narumi were just as intense, and served as fuel for the fire that was his ego.

Although you came from a great place, it’d be really troublesome if he got too into his head about it, so before Narumi could ever feel the sweet wave of ego boosts headed to his way, Hasegawa would already be behind him, chopping the top of his head with a hand as he orders the captain to focus (he sulks a bit outside of missions about this, glaring at the other officers who were privy to what he couldn’t indulge in).

“If your personality wasn’t as trashy, maybe we’d actually let you hear (y/n)’s compliments.”

“ISN’T SHE ONE OF MY OFFICERS? WHY WON’T YOU ACTUALLY LET ME NEAR HER? AT LEAST LET ME HEAR MORE ABOUT HOW GREAT I AM–OI!” sulked a very fussy Narumi being scolded by Hasegawa as Shinonome discreetly tugged you further away from him.

Despite your more unorthodox personality and how you were seemingly airheaded at a first glance–not the best look for a fierce warrior, you had amassed a great deal of respect in the Defense Force. There was a reason you made it in the first division, alive and well-loved by everyone around you.

Because behind your loveable demeanor and slightly childish antics, you were absolutely merciless in battle.

It was always a treat for the personnel in the control room and your veteran officers when newcomers came in and saw you in battle for the first time, gawking at the clearly unexpected jump between what you were like on and off the field.

It was quickly understood how you had amassed so much respect. How swiftly you cleared the breached areas infested with yonju, how you handled a swarm of them all by yourself, how it seemed like you were superhuman as you bent and twirled around in the air, sticking all of your landings and landing hits with such power.

You weren’t an ordinary fighter. Not when you sped past a group of injured officers and promptly took down a kaiju speeding towards them with your feet, before finishing the job with a large blast that felt unfathomable from the gun you were holding.

Not with how you tore apart the yonju with what felt like pure strength, even with your high combat power. It largely baffled the people in the control room as they cross checked your initial assessment with your on field vitals, scrambling over the discovery of how your muscles were denser and seemed to display a sense of strength multiple times stronger than the common man. Paired with the grueling training you endured in the first division and the adrenaline from the imminent threat you were facing, you were a beast.

Yet, you never lost touch of your real self. Never let the losses numbed you in the line of work you chose. You mourned, you wept, yet you kept smiling, your touch warm to the new recruits who caught a major loss in their batch after a major kaiju attack, your words of encouragement and gentle smiles receiving more and more appreciation as your time in the first division turned from weeks to months to years.

By the time battles became commonplace for you, you had caught the heads of many in the upper command, including the gaze of Narumi Gen, who, had he not seen your feats in person, wouldn’t be able to believe that the girl who awkwardly tripped from excitement and owed 50 push ups on her first day on the job was the same girl who was able to hold her own against a daikaiju before reinforcements came.

It was a large fight that required heavy backup in the wake of a sudden daikaiju appearance, following what was initially a smaller operation in a remote landmark. With only the small team from the prior operation dispatched at the time, Narumi was immediately called for backup.

He listened intently on how the mission was progressing. How half the squad had nearly been wiped out. Not injured, gone. Help was still over twenty minutes away by helicopter.

“We’re rerouting your squadron to team B,” one of the operators spoke into his earpiece. “The daikaiju attack separated them several kilometers away. Prioritize the survivors.”

“Understood.” The loss of lives was unfortunately something you never had the time to grief over in a time and place like this. That was something Narumi knew very well. So, he simply prepares for the drop, listening in to the comms.

And then, the unexpected happened.

“High energy readings detected from zone A!”

“This–this is all from?!--”

A series of giant blasts alongside the roar of the daikaiju ravaged through the air and sea, just at their drop point. Alarms blared as their squad carefully regained their balance, weapons at the ready. “Confirm the other source of the blasts! We don’t know if it’s from another kaiju or something else!”

It had been twenty minutes since the start of the operation. The vitals of the large majority of the remaining officers had been detected near the safe zone they’ve enforced, with Narumi’s team now ordered for subjugation. As Narumi makes his way to the collision zone, he feels a strong, foreboding aura, the same one that must have taken part in that earlier series of blasts.

“It’s…” The comms blare up as the drone accompanying his squadron scans the vicinity. Although he was on high alert from the threat. knowing what they were up against, nothing could have prepared him for the sight he was about to see next.

“--Officer (L/N) (Y/N)!” As your name rang through his ears, Narumi’s eyes widened as he saw your worn out figure balancing the machine gun left behind by your platoon leader, severely injured–but alive.

And the look in your eyes was merciless.

It was a rare occasion, something that had seldomly ever happened in his time at the Force, where Narumi had internally taken a step back in astoundment. As if the seer desperation and aura you carried manifested physically, telling people a story with no words.

It was you, the officer holding on against a large class Kaiju in those mere twenty minutes all by herself, hoisting the machine gun your platoon leader entrusted to you.

“Captain Narumi,” you spoke with so much respect, even in such a state. The same girl that was so smiley and bouncy in the dining halls, the girl that kept gushing over cute cats and how exciting love could be. The sweet cadet who was akin to sakura mochi. “I’ve led the rest of my team to the rendezvous zone. Please, let me hel…”

All you remembered next was everything fading to black, hearing a final sentence from the captain himself. “You worked hard, (L/N). Leave the rest to me.”

He later learned that you hacked, slashed, and had fired so many rounds, you weakened the entire constitution of the Kaiju, so much so that you had basically cleared a path for him.

And in doing so, you also caught Narumi Gen’s eye. He even ended up vouching for the clearance of your special weapon himself.

He came to not only respect you, but to learn more about you.

Your cheeriness was something that was quite new for him to grasp. You were so eager and outspoken, yet at the same time emotional and bashful. He still remembers how you became a flustered mess when he personally came to visit your hospital room after your run in with the aforementioned daikaiju, your hands flailing around in embarrassment as you choked on your food at his presence (was this the same girl that shot that kaiju in the eye at point blank?)

Don’t get him started on when you were to report to the higher ups about the daikaiju, coinciding with the meeting to discuss your promotion.

Could it have been worse? Definitely. But it was certainly still an interesting sight as you attempted to answer the question regarding your fight with the daikaiju.

Okay, maybe you got a bit too excited… “When I saw the daikaiju, it was like GWAHHH and then my heart felt like BAM BAM BAM, but then it went WHOOOOOMMMMM as we ran around the entire forest, THEN THEN THENNNN!!!! GAAAAAAHHH–”

“--and!” your breath hitched as you caught yourself mid burst. There, you could not only feel Narumi, Hasegawa, and some other senior officers staring at you, but even Director General Shinomiya. Your lips pursed into an extremely awkward smile as realization daunted upon you.

“...My apologies,” you bowed with your entire body, your forehead hitting the floor. “I’ll try to explain it again.”

Narumi couldn’t tell if he was mortified or still in disbelief. More mortified than you maybe. It felt like his soul had been sucked out. Even Hasegawa was at a loss for words, glaring at him from the side of his eye. Ah shit.

“I promise she has potential,” he swore to Isao after in his office, also experiencing second hand embarrassment. “Please… please don’t mind her.”

Present day, you had earned your spot as a formidable part of the first division as a platoon leader, inheriting your late senior’s position alongside their weapon, worthy from strength alone.

But things were a bit different with Narumi now, even with the man’s result oriented resolve.

Because it wasn’t just your raw power that made up your strength, it was your being—what made you, you. And it was daunting for Narumi, an entirely new avenue of consideration for him.

He never really thought about it, but your personality was the key factor that really placed the significance you had for him.

It wasn’t like you lacked strength. No, you were definitely on par with Kikoru. If he wasn’t training her, he could find the blonde tagging along with you, with you beaming in excitement as you smothered her in compliments and encouragement. You had your full trust in her and her future, something Narumi didn’t voice out as verbally.

Likewise could be said for Kikoru—she had absolute trust in you and how powerful you were, eager to have you teach her your mid air maneuvers. Narumi encouraged it, actually. You both carried heavy weaponry into the field, packing a particularly mean punch. She could pick up a thing or two.

But he also remembers you as the girl smiling ear to ear as she asked him about his figure collection. The girl who was always honest with her compliments, even though Hasegawa would make sure that your words wouldn’t reach him. The girl who rushed headfirst to comfort a child after defeating a kaiju together with him, a warm smile akin to summer warmth.

“It’s ok now,” Narumi perks up, fixing his grip on his bayonet as he turns to watch you crouch down to some rubble. “The bad kaiju is gone. You can come out.”

The child trembles in fear, seeing Narumi with his big weapon might’ve confused him even more. “It’s okay,” you softly held out your hand, Narumi watching from behind in intrigue. “That’s Narumi-niichan. He got rid of the bad guys. He’s a friend.”

Slowly, the child crawls over to you, and you hoist him up to your arms. “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner. How about we look for your mama and papa together? They must be worried.”

He sniffles a bit. Speaking a few names. You ask again out of curiosity. “My sisters…”

Narumi stiffens as he feels a few more pairs of eyes around them. Noticing them as well, your mouth forms a small “O”, before smiling again. “I’ll carry all of you to your mom and pops then! I’ll make it super fun!”

Narumi watched in bewilderment as you balanced a total of four kids on your upper body, making your way to the closest shelter.

“I promise to report back! Kids, say thank you to Narumi-niichan!” A chorus of high pitched voices thanking him broke the silence before you excused yourself, leaving the captain alone.

That was a show of your feats of strength—your true strength, Narumi realizes.

You were certainly a remarkable character in the force, and he’d never change that.

Slowly but surely, your presence definitely left a mark on him. He also learns about your big appetite, and it became a common sight to see the two of you together at the dining hall, heaps of trays on your side as Narumi gamed on his handheld beside you.

“You know, Narumi-kun,” your voice held that same cheerful note that was as soft as early spring, eyes shining in pure delight. “When I see those delicious fried onigiri they serve in the dining hall, I get hungry again!!” You beam, before regaining your composure. “Ah, don’t tell anyone else ok?”

He secretly puts in the word to make it a permanent meal, alongside your favorite foods. Hasegawa definitely notices.

Narumi enjoys sparring with you. Though he is boastful of his own strength, honed by Isao himself, your midair techniques and combat keep you a fresh and interesting opponent. Likewise, Narumi tested your finesse. Despite the physical prowess you carried, you still had to hone your skill, and Narumi was one of the best players in the game as of now. It kept the rounds interesting.

The two of you also fight really well together.

Which would you rather die from? Squadron Style Bayonet Technique Number Two: Slash Salvo, or Sixth Form: Cat Legged Winds of Love?

Spoiler: both of them. With your high physical prowess and insane flexibility, you’re one of if not the only officer in the first division able to directly tag team alongside Narumi, with his otherwise individualistic fighting preference.

If Hasegawa’s role was to actually keep the division in check, giving orders to the other soldiers while Narumi sped forward, you were the second DPS (Narumi’s gamer terms) following ensuite. You could be beside him, being his second heavy hitter to clear the path, or a reliable tank to decimate other formidable foes that Narumi wasn’t occupied with.

On the occasions where the two of you partnered up together to fight a particularly tricky kaiju, that was when the peak of your techniques used together would come into play. Acting as two heavy hitters, Narumi focuses on taking out the main body, alternating between slashes and shots.

Should the Kaiju be able to handle his regular onslaught of attacks, then it might think it’ll stand a chance, but make no mistake. When its limbs or other means of attack come into play, you’ve already lunged forward with your other special weapon—one especially crafted for you after your innate flexibility—the whip-like sword completely unique to any other weapon found in the force. Its first and only bearer.

The kaiju lets out a painful shriek as you slice its many tendrils up into ribbons, stopping any of them from even reaching Narumi. With every attempt to regenerate, every attempt in seething anger to launch attacks to your captain, you never failed to get in the way, lodging yourself in between and countering until its regeneration couldn’t keep up. If Narumi wanted an opening, then it’s your job as a platoon leader to get it done. “CAPTAIN!”

Although the two of you work well in battle, Narumi always scoffs a bit at how flashy your techniques are, a reoccuring theme in the 1st Division. “Show off,” he thinks to himself—being completely hypocritical—smiling as he readied his final stance. With Squadron Style Bayonet, the battle was over, the core taken out.

Upon returning to base, Narumi had already fished you for dozens of compliments, to the disdain of Hasegawa.

“Please don’t take advantage of the good and honest nature of our Platoon Leader,” the 1st division officers sigh, watching as Hasegawa scolds him to no end again.

You’re one of the Defense Forces’ officers that Narumi acknowledges and respects, great enough to fight alongside him. A strong feat courtesy of all the hard work and determination you’ve put with your time in the force, which only made you more admirable.

In fact, as Narumi and General Shinomiya convene in a meeting, discussing the future endeavors needed to ensure the future of the Defense Force, your name alongside others came to mind. With your years of service and direct surveillance from him and Narumi, your potential has never ceased to cap itself.

You were essential in the young generation that was to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, when it’s time to break the news…

Narumi runs his hands through the documents in his grip, your photo ID, credentials, and combat assessment printed in fine ink.

You’d rise for the potential of your own numbers suit.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

A/N: Ahhhhh Narumi, Mitsuri!reader and Kikoru’s relationship is so cute… i want to make a part 2 with their dynamics.

#narumi gen #gen narumi #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen x reader #narumi gen x you #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #narumi x reader #fem! reader

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