#unrequested but who cares

[luwritesomething]

Chad Meeks-Martin x Reader: if it’s meant to be...

Warnings: Swearing (probably), alcohol, frat party, scream vi, there’s a female roommate of reader involved.

Tags: halloween party, cowboy!chad, cowboy!reader (reader is dressed as a cowboy/girl/enbie), love at first sight, flirting.

Reader pronouns: Non stated (reader is dressed as a cowboy/girl/enbie).

Word count: 1033

Summary: Reader is at the halloween party, and Chad sees them (and instantly falls in love).

Author’s note: CHAAAAAD <3 there’s not enough appreciation for this man, or maybe there is but i haven’t seen a lot. also chad cowboy brain rot. also this is spoiler free if we ignore the cowboy!chad and halloween party setting :)

criticism, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The music was loud, the house stank like alcohol and sweat and your head was buzzing a little bit as you made your way through the immovable people standing on your way to the kitchen. You had lost sight of your roommate since the moment you two had come in through the door. College parties, especially frat parties, were painted way more glamorous than what they really were, but it wasn't like you were having a bad time.

You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol in the whole night, a good decision considering how overwhelmed you were now, but you also weren’t paying attention. Your absolute lack of interest was the reason why you didn’t notice the way you instantly caught the eye of a certain cowboy while you were on your way to the kitchen. With a smile to his friend, Chad left Ethan on his own once he had come to the conclusion that he needed to talk to you and find out who you were.

He spotted you instantly once he came into the kitchen — it wasn’t too difficult, considering that by now the people were too wasted to drag their asses into the kitchen for more alcohol. Apart from you, sitting in the counter with an empty but cold can of coke against your forehead, two sheepish frat guys were there as well, laying on the floor and blabbering about things Chad couldn’t care less about. When your beautiful eyes landed on him, he felt his heartbeat quicken, like a middle school boy.

“Hey.” Chad said, smiling brightly, and to play it cool he started making himself a drink with the half empty vodka bottles in the center table.

You eyed him up and down, a little smile slipping into your lips. “Howdy, stranger.” You finally said, tilting your head while grabbing your own cowboy hat. It was a simple and basic costume, but it was cute and certainly made you look good. 

Chad’s smile grew wider. “Cool costume.”

A little chuckle came out of your mouth, making you look down as you started dandling your feet, with your hands kept safe under your thighs, the can long forgotten by your side. You didn’t give an answer, but the silence — stained by the noise and music outside — was comfortable enough for Chad to keep going. 

“You want a drink?” He asked, his hand already holding his cup, and lightly gesturing towards the vodka.

“So soon?” You teased, more because you weren’t about to let him be the only charming one than because of you not liking him — you did. He was cute, and looked really nice and even funny. “You don’t even know my favorite color.”

His smile was so genuine, so nice. “Do I need to know it to get you a drink?”

“Or at least my zodiac sign.” You said while tilting your head, so the hat wouldn’t cover your view of him.Then, you added rather gloomy, “What if I were a scorpio?”

“I like scorpios.” Chad answered quickly, then took a sip of his drink. His face started to hurt from smiling.

“What if I weren’t a scorpio?” 

Chad couldn’t help but chuckle at your speed. “I’d like that too.”

You laughed with him, genuinely enjoying that flirting with him. He really did seem like a sweet guy, so after joining your hands on your lap, you said, “Great. Then you can get me a drink.”

“So soon?” He said, eyebrows lifting as he mimicked you. You bursted out laughing, the sweetest sound he had ever heard. “You don’t even know my name.”

You tilted your head again, to the other side, and held back the little smile blossoming on your lips. “You look like you have a cool name.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, like Rex or Max. Something like that.”

Chad raised an eyebrow. “Those are dog names.”

“Then what’s your name?” You asked with a little laugh.

“Chad.”

“Chad.” You repeated softly, and he found himself adoring the way you said it — God, was he down bad, and with no explanation other than your charm. You smiled. “It first you.”

He came a little bit closer to you, leaning against the counter but letting you space to breathe, move, be comfortable. You appreciated that. “You’re not telling me yours?”

Before you could even answer, your name was called out from the hallways, prompting you to jump down from the counter and take a few steps to the door. You eased up when you saw your roommate walking your way with a dumb, loving smile in her face that gave away her intoxicated state instantly. 

When she came in, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and hugged you loosely, and Chad feared you were already taken — had he misinterpreted your kindness for flirting? He hoped not.

Your friend looked up and her eyes widened slightly when he saw Chad there, shirtless, and looking at you two rather cautiously. “Oh.” She said with a sweet smile, waving her hand slightly. “Hi.”

Before Chad could do more than smile at her, you squeezed the hand around your shoulders. “You’re drunk. We’re going home, uhm?”

“Alright.” Your roommate muttered rather hesitantly, but still smiling.

Still keeping her arm around your shoulders, you turned to Chad with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. You’ll buy me that drink another time, Chad. I have to take my friend here home.”

“Of course.” Chad smiled, because you were promising to see him again. You also weren’t a couple. “Do you need someone to walk you guys?”

“Oh, it’s alright.” You assured, your smile growing wider because of his sweetness. “We don’t live far. See ya.”

“Wait, wait!” Chad moved closer to you as soon as you started moving towards the door, making you raise an eyebrow. “Give me your number?”  He tried that flirty smile on.

You chuckled slightly. “If it’s meant to be we’ll meet again, don’t ya think?”

Rushing your friend out of the kitchen, you two disappeared in the crowd of people and Chad stood there, dumbfounded, hand around his drink and with the silliest smile on his face. He really fucking hope it was meant to be.

[metranart]

Ask me nice... and I might think about it.

Draken x reader, Toman! Draken x Enemy gang! Reader, enemies to lovers, TOKYO REVENGERS, raging hormones and secret obsessions, Draken has a breeding kink.

- 𖦹 Warning tags: Toman! Draken x Enemy gang! Reader, rough sex, shameless smut, dominance, glorious orgasms, creampie, Draken has a breeding kink, breeding, explicit sexual consent, sexual tension, obsession, possessive behavior, shameless flirting, unprotected sex, marking, hair pulling, scratching, enemies to lovers, unrequested pregnancy. -

Draken had curse a thousand times since he had had to stay to take care of you: a member of the enemy gang who would be interrogated for information on Monday…. unfortunately, it was Friday and there were two days left until then… so there he was, playing babysitter with you: the impertinent brat.

More than once you had already tried to attack him, and in the last attempt, he had to tie you to him with handcuffs. Between the struggle, things had gotten out of control.... not to mention, that the heat wave sweeping through Tokyo wasn't helping him keep a cool head either.

Both were heavily panting, limbs tangled in each other as Draken’s gaze drank you whole. Your pants were out of place, lower than should have been, revealing what seemed to be the matching lingerie for the destroyed bra, your hair was taunting mess, sweat rolling down your flushed skin… the image you gave was tempting as hell, ordering Draken to fall over the edge and take you with him. 

"D-Draken?" your feeble voice muttered breathlessly.

“Ken.” He corrected, “Not Draken.” 

His free hand started to travel down slowly. Giving you ample time to pull away before he was softly cupping your cheek, tilting his head to the side as he studied you attentively.

“We'll still be enemies in the morning-” He cleared his throat and you blinked, dumbly.

“We are still enemies now.” You clarified and that sharp, toothy smile on his face told you everything.

God, your heart was racing, your chest filling with flames.

“—Then the handcuffs stay.” 

You were about to complain when he slowly yanked at your handcuffed wrist in a gentle pull and began to guide it down.  “In exchange, I’ll give you this,” he murmured, bringing it down to cup his cock over the pants. “I won’t be gentle. But I, sure as hell, will make you feel good.”

Fuck, he was rock hard under your palm, throbbing and swollen for you. You gulped, and he licked his lips.

“What if you…-” Your hand carefully breached under the hem of his pants, and his whole body trembled when you began to caress his cock.  His warm skin felt like silk under your hand, pulsing with life.  “-What if you uncuff me and I can use both my hands?”

“No,” he grunted immediately. “No until I can trust you, it’ll be a—” his breath caught when you give him a good, rough squeeze.  “—a show of good faith.”

“Are you sure you don’t want both my hands on you?” you reasoned, wrapping your legs around him to bring him closer. He allowed it cautiously. “One to jack you off while the other plays with your balls—” 

“I know what you’re doing,” he told you flat out, though he made no attempt to stop you at all. He just growled low in his throat when you bit down onto his neck, one of his hands landing hard on your thigh and locking down onto it tight.  “And it won’t work, darlin’… not with what I have planned for the evening.”

“I could try crying again,” you teased breathlessly, squeezing his cock once more and feeling him shudder.

“Ngh! I knew you were faking it before—” he gasped when you brushed your thumb over the swollen tip, dampening the fabric covering his neck with your hot breaths, it was your turn to smirk.  

“If you knew, why did you follow along?” You wondered, slowly starting to jerk him off. 

Draken didn’t answer, how can he tell you that he had a soft spot for pretty, cunning woman. He just panted like a dog next to your ear, your grip tight and strong, and he practically succumbed bracing on one arm at the side of your face to be able to hold himself up. 

“What if I just ask you really, really nicely, Ken?”  You whispered, speeding up your hand. “Will it work if I ask you to please fuck me without the handcuffs?  Please?  And then If you want, you can tie me to the bed? Or maybe…. You fancy something else—”  

Draken abruptly groaned, pinning you down with a way, too aroused glare.  “—I want to cum inside you.”

You held still as a fucking statue under him. Cum inside you? You weren’t on the pill, you could get pregnant, it was very risky, but it was even riskier being tied to him. If he took off the handcuffs you could at least try to escape once he fell asleep and then you would go to the pharmacy for a 'morning after' pill, that sounded like a good enough plan.

You squirmed a little bit under his unreadable gaze, before you decided. “You need so bad to fill me with your pups, Subcommander?”

“Unbelievable,” Draken murmured softly. He sounded truly mystified by you. Almost reverent.

You blinked at him, confused and suddenly he grinned again.

“I´ve been looking so hard for a person to call m-mine…”  He seemed like he was trying to find the right words to describe what was going through his mind, but he couldn’t.  “…a-and finally found it-… in my enemy.”

Your heart skipped a beat, to then ran rampant against your ribcage. The way Draken was looking at you should be illegal, so endearingly, so devoted, so— NO! you couldn’t be his. You scared the tempting thoughts of belonging to this tough gang member and instead bring your hand back to wrap tight around him, beginning to pull up and down in strong, steady strokes once more as a way to change the subject. The nails of his hand scrapped against the floor.

“Please,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose.  “Please, Ken.”

He stayed like that for just a split second more and then he was whipping his free hand to grab your cuffed wrist, “Then I’m breeding you, yes?” he wanted to seal the deal first and when you nodded, a click was heard, and the handcuff fell to the floor with a metal clack. 

“I won’t be gentle,” he assured you once more, voice coming out hoarse and shaky.  “I can’t—”

You nodded your head and you couldn’t even get a single word out before Draken used both hands to grab your hips, abruptly yanking your pants off your legs, his shirt was discarded as well and his own pants pooled down and then he was spinning you around and practically shoving you right back onto the floor, facedown, his huge body on top of you, but somehow it wasn´t uncomfortable to feel this caged.

Something thick and blunt pressed up against the tight ring of your pussy, and slowly pushed forward, and oh, HOLY FUCK—

READ THE WHOLE (8000 word) OF DRAKEN BREEDING YOU AND FALLING IN LOVE IN THE PROCESS, IN MY PATREON (here you will also find NSFW art of this story) .... Plus, more stories of tokyo revengers and other anime, each with a NSFW illustration from a scene of the story, PLUS! 'Spicy Foreplay tier reward' like: voting poll privilege for future stories, couple pairing selection for the stories and artworks, exclusive smut fanfiction and animation like THIS ONE and my eternal gratitude for your support!!!

[gayandfairycore]

Do you see right through me?

A/n: I am back! Restarting my streak of posting a fic every few months, XO kitty is my new obsession atm and I have seen no fanfics about the loml, so here’s an unrequested kitty x femreader! This doesn’t really follow everything in the show, but nevertheless I’m happy with it! As always all chaste aged up side note I am curious of your thoughts on the show? I’m sad people disliked the show as much as they did, I actually thought it was pretty alright? cringey at moments, but isn’t that all Netflix’s shows…

Summary: falling in love with kitty covey when she comes to K.I.S.S and your fellow students surprised by your care for the girl. When kitty hears Minho talk about how untouchable you were to anyone. She begins to hope that you feel for her what she feels for you.

Warnings: bullying, panic attacks, mentions of slurs but no actual use of slurs, (not so) unrequited love, homophobia, internalised homophobia, purposely getting someone drunk, daes a smidge homophobic in this fic, this fic is also not proof read because I’m lazy 😌

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You knew she was with dae, hell you knew since the moment she met you, rambling excited about her true love, and The fact that she had flown half way around the globe for a boy.

It felt blaringly obvious that if she were to do that there was no way that she would be into women. Plus you’d never. Ever. Want to steal someone’s partner That was just wrong.

So you would watch from afar, hold on to any touches the girl would give you, and you would force yourself to feel happiness for the girl. Force down any feelings of bitterness when she would stare at dae with love in her eyes.

Kitty song-covey was just so magnetic. It was like she vibrated on a whole different plane of existence. No matter how hard you tried You couldn’t stop half of your heart from breaking whenever she told you the details about her quest to get back dae.

You felt anger burn in you, boil your blood at the audacity of the boy lucky enough to hold her heart. To cheat on her it made you feel sick.

She deserved better, you hoped that maybe better would be you… from the moment you saw her she caught your heart. The illusive y/n l/n.

If she were to ask any student at KISS she would find out the rumours of your name. You were the girl who was smoking hot and yet had never had a boyfriend, despite many boys asking you out in grandiose ways.

You were, too many, The untouchable girl.

And for a girl with such a reputation It felt embarrassing how quickly you began to feel things for her. Non platonic things.

you felt a sense of duty when you saw her slip in those cupcakes. you moved without a second thought the click of your heels on the polished floors as you bent to her level.

“Are you okay?” You’d ask the girl

No reply left her lips, with orange frosting sticky and coated to her dress, tears shone in her eyes. As she looked up at you, with a tearful gaze, her eyes glazed over in embarrassment as she searched her surroundings. Staring down the lens of a phone camera she started to think maybe coming to Korea was a mistake.

The girl begun to replay every unfortunate incident over, and over in her head. There was virtually no one good here.

From her meeting with Minho at the airport, being swerved by principal Lim about her mother, meeting yuri, meeting her long term boyfriend again in person only to find him with a different girl she felt ridiculous.

As the lenses of cameras continued to stay pointed at her, kitty appreciated your kind smile as you pushed yourself off from being knelt beside her

“hey! Nothing to see here people. Go about your merry business.” Youd announce loudly to the leering students as they stared at the girl.

Feeling exasperated when no onlookers attempted to look away you spoke again. With a demanding and expecting.

“Go on! Shoo.” Only turning back to the red head once they made hast to look away, sighing and brushing your hair from your face you took the girl by her fore arm and pulled her up.

Before you could speak daes figure had made himself comfortable at her side rambling on about how it wasn’t what it looked like.

Kitty was clearly overwhelmed, from the jet lag, and the terrible experience she endured it was almost as if the room was closing in on the girl, the crushing weight of what seemed to be her mistakes crashed over her in unkind waves.

When the girl looking around the room, daes rambles became almost muted to the girl as the murmurs in the crowd of people were the final straw for the girl. Your hand on her arm the only thing grounding her from her onslaught of tears, And embarrassment.

Breaking your hold on her arm as the girl ran out of the room you sent an angry glare to the boy standing next to you, sending him a look that says something like ‘aren’t you going to go after her??’

Shaking your head at the raven haired boy when he averted his gaze as yuris perfectly manicured hands wrapped around his arm and lead him away sending an almost apologetic smile towards yourself it wouldn’t fix this mess.

Taking a deep breath you made a move to go after the girl, walking steadfast towards the exit your steps only faltering when the murmurs of the party goers no longer pertained to just kitty.

Gossip started far too quickly for your liking, their words thick with speculation as they questioned your sexuality, slurs muffled by hands into friends ears targeted at you made you begin to feel sick.

The beady eyes of students set heavily on you. The air thick, with each click of heels on the floor, and fast beat of your heart you felt bile rise to your throat. panic set deep in your heart.

Shaking your head and taking a breath, you wanted to leave, no. You needed to leave. With every watchful, beady, speculatory eye that stared seemingly right through you.

The thought kept repeating through your head they see right through you. Slamming through the door to the corridor, kitty is of course long gone, yet you still crane your neck in hopes to catch a glimpse of her. When you come up empty you hasten your steps rushing into the stall of the girl’s bathroom setting down the lid of the toilet and stifling your sobs with your hands stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying.

You repeat it like a mantra, you know you look like a mess, but all you care about is not showing that they’ve gotten to you. Hardening your expression they will not look right through you, you won’t let them. You can’t.

But for this moment you will not hide. Leaning your head against the stall walls, you say it for the first time.

“I’m a lesbian/bisexual/pansexual/your identity”

“I know.” You hear through the door, fear spikes ypur heart jumping to your throat as Q pokes his head over the stall.

“Q? This is the girls bathroom?”

“Yeah…I just wanted to you know make sure you’re alright?”

“I’m not but- how are you in here? Minhos outside distracting the girls from entering the bathroom…”

“Really?” You mutter wiping your eyes with the back of your hand

“Yeah sweetheart, open the door and we’ll take you back to your room.”

“Okay” you chuckle, unlatching the lock the sound of minho frantically trying to come up with excuses as to why the girls toilets are off limits won’t hold out for much longer.

His voice getting increasingly higher as he scrambles to block the door, sharing a look with Q you both grab the door handle, Minhos figure stumbling backwards into your body’s, you and Q both look to the ground grabbing his hand and bursting through the crowd of girls.

Their outraged cries consisting off “was that a boy in the girls bathroom?!?” And “what was he doing in there!” All three of you begin to laugh at your heist.

All three of you trying to catch your breath outside the auditorium, dae comes walking hastily towards your group pointing a finger back in there he asks “why did I just hear one of the girls say Q was in the girls toilets?”

“And that they couldn’t enter because minho said he was hiding a giant cake in the bathroom…”

“A giant cake?” You and Q both ask the boy turning expectantly for an answer

“This feel’s suddenly very judgemental, I didn’t have to help you, you know.” Minho defends, his face hard before dropping his facade after minutes of awkward silence.

Locking arms with the boys you make hast towards the dormitory’s as a teacher locks eyes with the four of you.

“Go, go, go, go” Q pushing, at first your group speeds off with small hurried steps, getting faster until it’s an all out run, when the teacher bursts out of the door. Laughter fills the cool night air as you all rush to your dorms.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The loud ring of your alarm clock waking you up, your roommate still not here, you began to strip yourself of your dress from the night before. Instead sporting the school uniform. Slinging your bag over your back you set off to the cafeteria to buy yourself breakfast.

Your converse scraping against the ground, as you walked the path. A familiar head of hair came into view, biting down your smile you stepped closer.

The sight of Her cannery yellow suitcase bringing a frown to your face, along with the silouette of the boy next to her. You watch in discomfort, hesitant to move, to speak, to breathe. As you watch them embrace, the expression of hesitant love on the boys face is painful. You are painfully aware of just how in love they look.

when the sight of a black car and a silhouette of a girl steps out, you Release a breath you didn’t know you were holding when yuri breaks the two apart and steals dae away. It’s almost as if things aren’t so bad, You suddenly aren’t suffocating. Your converse clad feet walk closer to the red head, calling out her name.

A smile forms on her face as she sees you “y/n! Hey..”

“Covey, it’s nice to see you.” You smile rocking back and forth on your feet. Sizing her up you speak again with a shy smile

“I’ve got to say orange is not your colour.”

your eyes glance down to her suitcase as you tease the girl, any semblance of humour fades as she catches your gaze.

“Oh! Don’t worry!” The bubbly girl reassures “I’m not leaving, atleast not anymore.” She persists smiling with her teeth.

A soft look crinkles your eyes, you’re dead serious when you speak “good im glad you’ve decided to stay here.”

A bashful smile overcomes her face as she takes a look around you both. It’s silent for a few moments. It’s not an uncomfortable silence. Throughout that minute of silence you both seem to rake your eyes over eachother.

You’re the first to break it when you clear your throat. “Um you might want to take your things back to your dorm before classes. here I’ll help you.”

You nod toward her suitcase, and before she can stop you you’re picking up her suitcase, she smiles kindly. The walk to her dorm is quiet, you don’t mention the boys dormitory. Instead you bid the girl goodbye at the door.

And just like that time begins to fly with the girl, Days turn to weeks, stray touches and friendly hugs begin to linger too long. Far too long to be friendly. Atleast from your side.

Something held you back, from telling her, her relationship (if you could call it that) with dae, the fact she wasn’t into girls, or the fear of coming out.

And as Kitty spends her time chasing after dae, you spent your time chasing after kitty, whilst she was determined to be proved right that yuri & daes relationship was fake.

A part of you hoped it wasn’t, it felt cruel to think that as you were actively helping her, but part of you wished on every stray fallen eyelash, and every shooting star you saw. That maybe she’d like you too.

Maybe your touches set her skin on fire like hers did for you. When the day of Minhos party arrives and kitty asks you to do her makeup you jump at the opportunity to be closer to her.

With every stroke of your makeup brush against the apples of kittys cheeks it felt like you were buzzing with excitement just being so close to the girl.

Wanting to savour this moment you went slower, when kitty asked the harmless question of is you could do her lipstick your cheeks almost grew just as red as the blush you applied.

Before you started to dab the red pigment on your finger, tapping it gently against her lips the pads of your fingers bouncing off of her plump lips.

You couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to kiss her, your gaze lingered on her lips as your finger slowed its movement.

Turning your gaze up to meet kitty’s eyes, only to find the girl was already staring back at you.

Q watched intently from the doorway of his room, before he broke your stare on her lips with a “everybody ready?” Both kitty and yourself breaking eye contact simultaneously you Fling yourself away from kitty. Embarrassment begins to creep up your cheeks at being caught.

“You okay Y/n? We don’t have to go if you’re feeling sick.” Kitty speaks her eyes searching yours for any semblance of a lie.

“No, no! I’m alright let’s go.”

And with that you made your way to the door Qs hand gripped your upper arm with enough force to stop you but not hurt

“Hey y/n, yknow I saw you looking at kitty’s lips. If it’s any consolation I think she likes you too.” He smiled, his voice soft and comforting.

You wanted to say ‘really? You think so?

But instead your gaze dropped to the floor and you say an emotionless “she doesn’t like me like that.”

With a sigh from Q he opened his mouth as if to say more, his words dying in his throat as you broke his hold making your way down the hall to kitty’s figure.

Side stepping the girls attempt to hold your hand, her previous excitement dropped from her face for a moment before she cleared her throat “I’ve ordered us an Uber so let’s-let’s go.”

Walking ahead of the girl in a hurry, you miss the disappointed glance she shoots Q he rubs her arm in a comforting manner.

When you arrive to rubik the air is hot and stuffy, sweaty bodies dancing and drinking when florian orders you a fruity mock tail spiking it with what you assume to be vodka you drink it in silence, florian whispering to Q if you were okay.

You block them out, opting to instead dance your feelings away when you begin to dance to whatever was playing you began to feel a sense of freedom, your dance wasn’t anything special, wasn’t even particularly graceful. But you still felt eyes on you, as you turned to look to the pair that was staring at you eagerly you instead are met with the leering face of a fellow kiss student the buzz of alcohol dimming your senses as he leans down to whisper to you.

“We’ll aren’t you just beautiful, tell me can I buy you a drink?”

You don’t think. The alcohol numbing you, all you think is what can you do to take your mind off of kitty.

And before you know what you’re doing you grip his hand and lead him towards the bar, he buys you a drink, the familiar burn of some cheap vodka dances over the back of your throat before youre gripping his hands and you’re dancing with him.

And you dance for what feels like hours, and when you aren’t dancing you’re drinking, the burn of the alcohol stings the back of your throat.

And yet you keep drinking, seemingly oblivious, blissfully unaware of the fact he’s been buying, and buying, and buying, you drinks. And yet he hasn’t once touched a sip of alcohol.

The red flags aren’t red to you anymore, YPU can’t even hear the alarm bells ringing.

Sometime through the night you come to the realisation you’ve lost your friends, you’ve danced for as long as you can your feet aching and now all you feel is sick and exhausted.

“H-hey I think I’m gonna find my friends.” You tell your date, your words slurring together as vomit rises to your throat you take your hands off of the guy.

Ready to go back to your friends, even with dulled senses you’re on high alert when his soft smile leaves his face and his gaze hardens on your chest, his hands spring out to grip your arms in one hand. With bruising force, tugging

before Q sees you begin to wobble as the boy leads you to the exit of the club he walks past Q and florian.

The boys feel an immediate sense of urgency to protect you. They ask if you want to go with this guy, when they get your shaky “no” it’s enough conformation. Florian is pulling you into him as Q is telling the guy to leave you alone.

Breathing shakily, bile rises to the back of your throat, your eyes burning, as you gaze up at the boys their sympathetic faces giving you a once over.

“I just wanted to stop thinking about her.” You cried, slamming your head into Florian’s chest

“Oh dear” florian says looking you over “find kitty.” And just like that Q’s off in search of the girl, when teachers burst through the doors of the club. Principle lim pulling the plug to the speakers.

The club grows silent before the onslaught of people start running for the door, Florian leads you toward the exit. He doesn’t mind listening to your drunk rambles as you walk. Your legs unsteady, your mainly being supported by florian.

Taking the water he hands you with gratitude you take slow sips. Time seemed to barely move, as your memory felt funny. One moment you were in the club a flurry of lights disorienting you the next in your dorm bed room.

Cracking an eye open and groaning from the splitting headache behind your eyes you sluggishly roll out of bed.

Opening the bedroom door Qs figure slouched over the arm of the couch as minhos making coffee in the kitchen.

“Hey, y/n. We have Saturday detention by the way. Since someone got the party busted.”

Watching kitty on the stage her hair pinned up, you think she looks gorgeous in traditional clothing, adoration clear on your face.

Time seemingly slows as you watch her perform, with each movement of the fan your stare is still looking at the girl.

Conflict I’d happening on the stage, you can’t hear what they’re saying but you’re already concerned for the girl. Your heart leaps to your throat as you watch her trip.

Loud cracks of fireworks fill the gymnasium, time stops slowing, your ears block out the sound of scampering feet trying to exit the gym. you’re fully competent and you know what you’re doing when your shoes squeak against the floor you’re running toward the panicked girl.

Ripping off your jacket you throw it over the girls flaming skirt, easing her to the ground as you do so.

Kitty is panicked, frantic breaths leaving in puffed out pants, looking up at her through your lashes, your heart clenches at the sight of her scared face.

“Hey! Hey! I got you, you’re alright.” You state, your fingers that were previously patting wildly at the skirt, stop.

“Th-thank you.” Kitty whispers gratefully, her body visibly relaxing, yet She still looks scared with an emotion you can’t quite make out swimming in her eyes.

you make a move to comfort her more but your hand still’s outstretched towards her when dae comes rushing to her side.

His eyes wild, as he asks the girl if she’s okay, he lets out a breath when she tells him you helped.

“Yknow I would’ve helped her-“ nodding at his words, you feel guilty that you don’t quite believe the boy.

“I know. but I got here first.”

“I’m here now.” He exclaims coldly, his eyes nonverbally telling you to leave, bowing your head you look at kitty,

“I’m just glad you’re okay” and with that you turn and make your way of stage, meeting up with Minho by the door.

A knowing look on his face prompts you to ask “what’s that look for?”

“Nothing! No nothing. Aside from the fact you practically raced up there to save her…”

“You didn’t even think you just…went.”

Trying to no avail to hide the blush dusting your cheeks you cross your arms over your chest “well what’s it too you? I mean you’re famously anti kitty.”

“Mm you’re right, i don’t think she’s right for dae. I think she’s right for someone else…” he trails off making eye contact with you.

He sends you a comforting smile. His eyes flicker to dae as he marches up to both Minho and yourself. slamming Minho into the wooden wall dae sneers out “a you call yourself my friend” In Korean.

Minhos confusion seeps out as he asks “what’s all this about?!?” Also in korean, dae sees red slamming the boy harder into the wood before continuing “don’t pretend like you don’t know!”

Looking frantically around you, you decide to try and pry the boy off calling out a:

“What are you doing dae? let him go!” You cry pulling at the boys arm to get him to loosen his grip. His eyes hard as he turns to you, flinging his arm out, your feet falter at the abrupt movement when he pushes you off him His push sending you colliding with the gymnasium floor. Your hands slap against the ground, tears well in your eyes at the sting of your hands. and the bruise forming on your butt.

Despite your efforts Dae is still glaring at the boy infront pf him, Seemingly not caring that his shove sent you to the floor. “Dae, stop. Stop it! it’s not min Ho!” Kitty cries, “this has nothing to do with him”

“What you’re gay?” Dae laughs, sparing a glance at your form on the floor, Confusion and realisation dawn on the boys face before he mutters an apology to Minho.

sparing a hateful glance toward you on the floor, looking kitty in the eyes, the girl is clearly distraught in her hanbok. Her makeup runs down her cheeks as embarrassment boils. Dae shakes his head as he bursts from the door to the room.

Minho does a double take before giving you his hand, asking tentatively “are you okay?” His eyes rake your figure trying to asses the damage.

“I’m fine, I’m okay.” You stress putting yours hands in the air in attempt to reassure the boy.

“Good, good.”Minho mutters, clearly not believing you in the slightest. pulling you up, He shares a look with kitty watching as she diverts her gaze.

You shoot a glance to the red head, as Minho leads you away. Your concern for the girl outweighs any confusion about dae.

The cool air stings your face as Minho leads you outside, sitting you down on a concrete seat, “are you okay?” He asks.

Sighing shakily you look him in his eyes “yes-“

“And don’t lie to me.” He cuts you off, pointing his finger, he nods for you to continue his hard serious face still there.

“No? I mean! Ugh I really like her? But she clearly likes someone else…and she still has dae. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do?”

“I’m failing pretty much all of my classes, and I’m gay. But I can’t be.”

“Oh you sweet thing.” Minho says pulling you into his chest, running his hands over your head as sobs break from your chest, wetting the boys suit.

“You know it’s okay to be afraid of your feelings for someone, but I can see it Kitty likes you, Not dae.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“God are you really so oblivious?!?” Exasperation reeks from the boy as he stared at you.

“She’s in love with you, you didn’t see it but her face when you saved her was enough to make dae realise she doesn’t like him anymore.”

“Oh my god. That’s what that was?”you question, your stomach dropping in anticipation. Vomit rising to your throat,

“I have to go!” You call breaking from Minhos hold,

“Another job well done” Minho smiles, shaking his head at the wet patch on his suit.

Your feet slam against the ground as you run to find the girl, bursting back into the gym she of course isn’t there.

Doubling over breathing heavily, panic grips your chest, as you look around. Closing your eyes you feel defeated.

“If you’re looking for kitty she’s in the dorm.”

Your eyebrows furrow, as you turn to face dae, an apologetic and yet reserved expression takes over his face.

“I-what? How did you-“

“It’s pretty obvious… no offence. But hey I’m happy for you.” The boy smiles, before turning to go

“How do you know she’ll like me back?” You whisper, daes steps halt as he turns to look at you.

“I’ve seen the way she stares at you when you aren’t looking, she used to look at me like that…” he looks sad as he remarks the girl’s feelings. but when he smiles at you with a watery smile and the nod of his head it’s his way of giving you the go ahead. And suddenly everything lightens up, the weight on your shoulders suddenly dissipates as you accept daes consent to make a move.

To let yourself be happy.

So you do, turning around you jog up stairs, and dodge various people as you make your way through the crowds of students in the halls.

Making your way to the boys dorm had become like a ritual, it was no longer buzzing with joy and laughter as a game or movie was in full swing Minho cooking something in the kitchen or rambling about the films his mum was in.

Instead the warmth in your chest was no longer there, You suddenly feel apprehension, as you stand there, your hand hovering over the door handle, you question if kitty will want this, if you should just turn around and couch surf until you go home.

When the door swings open to a sad kitty, in comfortable clothing, her hairs a mess, and she’s wearing an old ratty tshirt, but she still looks at gorgeous as ever as she stares up at you.

“Y/n?” She asks, her eyes glancing you up and down.

“Hi.” You whisper, bringing your hand up to caress her cheek, you ask her “can I kiss you?”

When she nods it’s all the permission you need, before you place a passionate yet gentle kiss on the girls lips, you pull away when the girl doesn’t move to kiss you back.

Only to be pulled back in my kittys soft hands against both of your cheeks pulling you in her lips crash against yours, the kiss isn’t perfect the techniques all wrong, and it’s sloppy, but you can’t help caring because you’re kissing her.

Tangling your hands in her unruly hair, you smile into the kiss.

When kitty pulls back, you look alarmed the girl feels a sharp guilt at breaking from the kiss, the pads of her fingers run over your cheek gently as if she is afraid you’ll break. The girl takes a breath in

“I’ve begun to learn a lot on Korea, about my mother, my friends, myself. And more Often then not my friends helped me realise things.” Kitty breaths she looks almost afraid to speak as she collects herself you can visibly see the cogs turning in her head as she speaks.

“And well, Q made me realise my feelings. They were confusing, and fun, and scary? But I think i really like them?”

“I think I really like them as well.” You smile, placing a kiss on her lips before continuing “And hey remind me to thank Q for all this.”

“No need you two, this is all the thanks I need.” Breaking from her hold you both turn to face your roomates their smug (mainly Minho) proud faces staring at you both.

“You know For a match maker you’re a bit oblivious.” Q speaks before planting himself on the couch

“I- what do you mean?” Kitty exclaims offended

“Kitty I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you...”

“WHAT!” Kitty exclaims in outrage “but- no- I’m supposed to know these things!!” The girl slumps over dramatically

Sharing content looks with your fellow roommates, none of you can hold it in bursting out in laughter.

It made you realise how much you wish you could stay in this moment forever before tomorrow comes and everything good hangs in the balance…

For now, you all were happy.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[tevivinter]

Happy Friday! I. LOVE. the 50 wordless ways to say I love you. How about "buying them something unrequested because it made you think of them" for Dorian and Lavellan?

thank you for the prompt!! for @dadrunkwriting 667 words

“I’ve been meaning to give you something.”

Marel glanced at Dorian, his voice breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between them. The library, dimly lit by the flickering glow of a nearby lamp, had been their private retreat for hours. They sat entwined on the oversized couch, their legs comfortably tangled.

Marel tilted his head, amber eyes glinting with curiosity. “What is it?”

“A small gift.” Dorian tapped Marel’s leg gently, signaling for him to shift. “I’d rather you see it for yourself.”

Marel untangled his legs from Dorian’s lap and let his feet touch the floor, the plush rug comfy against his skin. His brow furrowed slightly as the mage withdrew a small pouch from his pocket. The weight in Dorian’s hand hinted at something delicate, valuable, or perhaps both.

Marel accepted the pouch with the same careful reverence he might offer a fledgling bird. His fingertips brushed the fabric, as if trying to guess what was inside. “What’s the occasion?”

“I simply thought of you,” Dorian replied, leaning back against the couch, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Now, open it before I start sounding unbearably cheesy.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Marel as his expression softened. Then, he pulled at the drawstrings and blinked, genuine surprise flickering across his face as his gaze fell on the contents within.

Nestled within the pouch was an amulet. Marel lifted it with care, the pendant catching the faint lamplight as it swayed in the air. The bronze medallion was small enough to fit in his palm, its surface engraved with the visage of a dragon’s head.

Marel’s breath hitched. Once, he’d owned an amulet like this—except his had the silhouette of a halla’s head, a treasured gift from his sister. For several years, it had been his token of luck, until he’d lost it amidst the chaos of Haven’s fall. He’d shared the story with Dorian some time ago, never imagining that it would linger in his mind.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Marel glanced at Dorian, who watched him with quiet anticipation. “Do you remember what I told you? About the amulet that I lost?”

Dorian’s expression softened, his voice warm yet tinged with understanding. “How could I not? You were terribly heartbroken over it.” His gaze dropped to the medallion resting in Marel’s palm. “I bought this amulet from a merchant in Redcliffe. According to the rumors, it should bring protection to its wearer. Whether or not that’s true…I thought you might appreciate it.”

So he did remember. Not only that, but Dorian had chosen an incredibly thoughtful gift—one that had surely cost a small fortune. Marel closed his fingers around the amulet, the cool metal pressing into his palm as warmth bloomed in his chest. It was hard to find words to describe his gratitude.

And so Marel leaned forward, wrapping his arms firmly around Dorian’s waist. He rested his chin on the curve of Dorian’s shoulder, finding comfort in the way their bodies seemed to fit perfectly together. “Thank you, vhenan,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection. A smile touched his lips, brushing faintly against Dorian’s neck. “I’ll make sure not to lose this one.”

Dorian soon melted into the embrace, a tender smile gracing his features. His hands moved instinctively, one tracing circles against Marel’s back, the other resting lightly against the nape of his neck. “You’re welcome, amatus,” he replied, his voice low and soothing.

There was a moment of stillness as they held each other, and Dorian cherished every second of it. He could have stayed like this forever, rejoicing in the steady rhythm of Marel’s heartbeat against his own. The sudden thought of losing him sent a cold shiver racing down his spine. Without a word, Dorian’s arms tightened, his hold becoming just a fraction more desperate, as if sheer will alone could keep Marel safe.

For a moment, he silently wished that the trinket — simple as it was — might somehow protect the man he loved.

[wwouldvecouldveshouldve]

I'll tell you how I've been there too and that none of it matters

verlaine verlaine verlaine!!! my pookie bear!! unrequested but necessary. things that make verlaine feel loved.

when you hold him. when you, you, you who knows him and cares for him and tells him you love him for who he is holds his sinning self in your arms like he's a baby, a flower, something more delicate than silence. he loves to be fragile for you, but he would not mind if you even dropped him and he shattered into a million little pieces. he knows you would put him back together, though. he's a puzzle you will never hesitate to put your all into solving. he craves for your warm fingers to gently hold his broken pieces together, caress the new masterpiece slowly and kiss it with soft, precious lips like you were sealing a response to one of his love letters. when you make sure his coffee is always hot. oh, god, good good, you're thinking about him. you're thinking about even the smallest things to make his day better. how can this be anything but true love? how can he show it back? how can he honour your name, your holy presence and build you cathedrals of care? the least he can do is memorise all your preferences, he can't stand your disgust of anything. if there is a day when you are disgusted by him, he will slaughter himself then and there. if you don't like blood, he will happily drown himself out of sight. when you make sure he goes to sleep. even then, you will do your best to make sure he will get as much sleep as possible. he tries to stay up to watch over you, but you beg him to calm down because you love him and want him to get rest. that alone is enough for him to bend to your will immediately. he will sometimes stay up thinking if you're lonely, and will seek you out immediately if he worries about you in any way. he's learning to avoid that a little bit because then it ends up disturbing you and he feels guilty even though he is perfectly aware that nothing matters more to you than him. when you go along with whatever he says. you trust him completely, so whether it's a mission or out and about you know he will make the right choices. he is sometimes a little stressed because now you have weight on this scale and he can under no circumstances mess up. you don't even mind if he does, though, his imperfections and mistakes are part of what makes him oh-so-human. in the end, it's your complete and unwavering faith in his humanity that leaves him dragged awe-struck into your orbit.

he's my cutie patootie mass murderer baby <3 you couldn't keep him out of my mind even if you gave me a lobotomy.

[theelvenhaven]

Sickening Plan

Celegorm x Reader

2.9k Words

Warnings: Emotional cheating, drinking, alcohol, attempted manipulation and gaslighting, angsty.

A/N: Unrequested work. So since I posted a headcanon for Friday I am adding a fic for Monday. Hope you all enjoy and shout out to my beta readers @batsyforyou and @fandomhoe101 for helping me with this piece and giving me feedback

 * * * 

Fury didn’t begin to describe what it was you were feeling as you entered in your office, a bottle of wine in hand. You wanted to get away from your so called partner as you closed the door with control. Careful not to slam it, not really wanting to draw gossip nor your partner to attention. They had brought here a Doriathan princess, the beautiful Luthien… And it was apparent to you that Celegorm was certainly of the same thoughts and far from caring about how you felt about the whole situation. 

You could tell from the look in his pale blue eyes that he was smitten with her, taken by her beauty and grace. Her soft spoken voice, with a firmness in it. Hair that was inky dark like a long cascade of a starless night, who Huan had taken a liking to it would appear. A Lady who was here on their invitation, and utterly kind. It certainly put her father to shame as you had listened to her plight when she first arrived. 

It wasn’t her beautiful and fair appearance that bothered you, or how long and pretty her black hair was. It wasn’t that she was perfect in appearance nor her kindness and gentle voice that irked you and festered beneath your skin. It was none of those things that was making you feel rage towards her. Then again as you thought about it, you weren’t really vengeful and angry towards Luthien. How could you be? When all she wanted to be was with the love of her life, Beren. 

No it was none of those things. 

What infuriated you was the conversation you had overheard Celegorm having with Curufin in their studies. Wanting to meet back up with them after you spoke to Luthien, to thank them for being so kind and at ease with her. For taking her in and trying to figure out how to assist her in her plight to find the man of her dreams so she could wed him and be together. 

It was the fact that Celegorm seemed to droll on about her beauty and even going on to compare you to her that was your problem. Bringing you to have paused right outside the door as the words just seemed to spill out of his mouth like a broken faucet. It had made ice run through your veins at the reverence he spoke of about her, and it made an ache start in your chest. But you had felt rooted in your spot, listening as Curufin went on to suggest marrying Luthien to Celegorm.

You had waited for him to deny it, to turn down the idea. Because he loved you right? You and Celegorm had been together for quite some time, it was logical those next steps should be considered between the two of you and not between him and Luthien. Yet Celegorm had chimed in all too quickly about accepting the idea. With Curufin rattling off a list of pro’s though Celegorm told him he hadn’t needed it. That being with such a beautiful elleth was motivation enough. 

Now here you were, sitting at your desk in your study. A decanter of wine almost completely drained and your glass of wine was filled to the brim, easily on your second very full glass. Already starting to feel warm and fuzzy, though fury continued to come in waves, ebbing and flowing as you continued to think on how readily Celegorm was going to abandon you for her. 

Your mind wanted to be angry with Luthien, to yell at her. To demand that she leave this instance, to tell her how she was terrible and temptation for already spoken for men and ellyn alike. But as you thought of her and her plight and her current quest, you felt the rage dampen towards her. You couldn’t possibly be mad at her for just existing, for having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

On the other hand when you thought of Celegorm and all the years you had been together, and how much you had loved him. Still loved him and thought that he was your one… Yet he was going to squander it all away for Luthien. Someone he barely knew… You were seeing red, all you could do was pick up your wine glass with care and take a generous swallow or two from it. Letting the dry wine and its bitterness slide down your throat as you glared up at the ceiling before setting it back down. 

Hearing the sound of your office door open and to your displeasure, the source of your fury stepped in. Celegorm looked at you with bright eyes, almost as if he was eager to see you. Before they trailed to the glass on the desk in front of you, 

“Partying this early in the evening?” He quipped out in amusement as he shut the door behind himself. You watched as his stupid face seemed to have a smug smirk on it, watching him fold his arms over his chest. Your eyes sharply glanced at him with a tight frown pulling at your lips, before you picked the glass back up, you were certainly going to need another bottle… 

“And without me at that. What’s the occasion?” He asked, moving to grab a chair, dragging it around the desk to come sit in front of the chair that you were slumped back in. Your hand angrily piddling at the hem of your robes, as a tick set in your jaw. Celegorm sat down and you watched as some of the smugness was wiped off his face, picking up the decanter with a quarter cup of wine left in the bottom. Pulling the top from it and taking a swig. 

There was a long moment of silence as the two of you stared at one another. You were still so angry and you couldn’t believe that he was pretending like nothing was the matter. As though he wasn’t conspiring with Curufin to marry Luthien. Like he didn’t worship the very ground she walked upon and they only just met. It took you a long moment to take a deep breath to rein in your fury before you took a breath. Opening your mouth to speak. 

“Well Lord Celegorm,” You addressed in a drunken callousness, feeling emboldened by the wine you had drunk. “It would appear I am celebrating your upcoming nuptials.” 

A look of confusion crossed his features for a moment, before you watched another stupid smirk cross his lips. You wanted to wipe it off his face so bad, you hated it. You were angry. The realization coming to you as the fact that if that was going to be his upcoming nuptials… Then it wasn’t going to be a mutual agreement. Not with how hard Luthien was set on Beren. 

“My upcoming nuptials?” He quipped back, leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs comfortably as he rested the decanter casually on his thigh. Gripping the neck of it with his fist, he tilted his head, with blond hair spilling over his shoulder. 

“Is this your way of proposing? I must say I always pictured being the one to do it and you being less angry with me for it.” Celegorm said in amusement, and you narrowed your eyes as you watched the sense of pride that seemed to fill him at the idea of this being some kind of backwards proposal. You definitely weren’t proposing and did he think you were stupid? To not know what it was he and Curufin were planning? To marry him off to Luthien. And he wanted to be! 

“Going to be hard to accept my proposal if you are already engaging yourself to Luthien, don’t you think?” This time there was satisfaction that filled you as you watched the way the smile seemed to leave his face. The way his pride seemed to deflate and a more scornful look found his face, ah there it was. Finally something other than pride and smugness. It was refreshing. You were looking for an argument at this point. 

It wasn’t like you to get drunk like this, you knew drinking your problems was a bad idea. Always was it. But you didn’t know what else to do, and so you had let yourself- literally- marinate in the wine. Letting everything fester. Now you wanted to take it out on him for betraying you. You were hurt. 

“What are you talking about?” Celegorm asked with a stiffness to his voice that he used when he was lying to you about something and was caught red handed. It was a rare thing for him to lie to you about something but not these days it seemed. Not when they were spent skulking around with Curufin, who was encouraging Celegorm to shut you out. Now he had successfully found a way to do it to you. 

“Do you think I am a fool? To not know what you and Curufin were speaking of earlier?” You pressed in a bitter tone, your hand holding the stem of the wine glass. Turning it slowly on top of the table top as you ground your teeth. You heard Celegorm release a big huff at your words, scoffing even and you knew he was rolling his eyes. 

“You don’t know the whole nature of that conversation, nor do you have all the details.” 

“Oh I heard enough.” You barked back, “I heard plenty about how perfect Luthien was, about how beautiful she was, that she was even prettier than I was. Or about how wonderful she smelled, or how her skin was softer and more perfect than mine.” You glared as you spoke every word to him, a sharp look finding his face yet he couldn’t get his eyes to look up at you and meet your gaze. 

“She’s so beautiful Curvo, she makes Y/N pale in comparison.” You quoted in a mocking voice, gesturing with your freehand with gusto, bringing up your wine glass to drink from. 

“You don’t know the extent of the conversation or what brought it up for me to say those things.” Celegorm countered, leaning back in his chair still. Watching you shift uncomfortably as you cast your gaze away rolling your own eyes and shaking your head. Your hand coming back down to your robes to pick at again. 

“Oh? Really? Are you going to tell me you lied to your own brother?” You scoffed with a sneer on your lips, and you watched a stoic look crossing his features. You didn’t know how it was he could so easily fool others and lie to Finrod. (Which you often fought him on). Yet with you, you could see through all his lying. Celegorm was lying to you. 

“Yes, I did in fact.” 

“I don’t believe you. You’re lying.” Again Celegorm huffed out at your words, he hated that you could see through him. Though he wasn’t going to hint at that to you. You only knew he regretted getting caught saying those things. 

“What about you? What were you doing eavesdropping on a conversation that was private?” Celegorm retorted, trying to twist and turn this back onto you. A defense mechanism to try and take the heat off of himself from you. Yet you weren’t going to buy into the bait, nor were you going to argue. They had summoned you to be there when you finished speaking with Luthien. 

“Don’t change the subject!” You quipped, “Are you or are you not going to marry her?” 

There was a long and uncomfortable silence, and while he gave you a poker face… His lack of quickness to deny that was the plan proved to you that was what his intentions were with her. He was going to force her into a marriage with him, just as Eol had forced Aredhel, and it was sickening. You couldn’t believe that he was going to go through with this!

“You’re sick!” You said bitterly, forcibly scooting your chair away from him, and standing from your spot. You grabbed your wine glass, walking around the oak desk to be on the opposite end of the room. Feeling his hand coming to grab your upper arm to stop you. 

“Wait! Y/N let me explain!” Celegorm said in a firm and deep voice, but you sneered up at him. Feeling the ground sway some beneath your feet and how light headed you were feeling from the alcohol. You wanted to sit again and enjoy the warm fuzzies, that were trying to dampen the immense rage you felt swelling in your chest. To be done with this conversation because you had heard enough from him. 

“What is there to explain?” You all but yelled at him, raising your voice. You were furious. You didn’t want to hear anymore of this sickening plan. He had hurt you enough with what all he had to say comparing you to Luthien. Now he was going to marry her. He was throwing you away so easily.

“It is only in vows! Not through binding of our fea!” He retorted out just as quickly, yet none of it made it any better. If anything it felt infinitely worse hearing that!

“So what? You’ll marry us both? Have two spouses? When bigamy is against our beliefs and not possible!?” You began pulling yourself roughly from his grip on your arm, sloshing some wine over your glass and into the floor. You watched as Celegorm simply took a step back away from you, balling up his fist but keeping it at his side. You weren’t fearful that he would hurt you. 

You had enough arguments with him to know that he wouldn’t. Even now with him being an absolute idiot and having to actually be accountable for his shitty behavior as of late, Celegorm wouldn’t lay a finger on you. 

“Yes, I still plan on marrying you. It is a show! To get Thingol to bend to our will!” 

“How is that better!?” You asked suddenly, “How is that supposed to make me feel better!? When I am the only one you are supposed to be with!” This time your voice rang off the stone walls that surrounded you and you didn’t care who it was that might be passing by and hear you. You were fed up with whatever this sick and twisted plan was, all to try and get Thingol in their pocket. As they had not even attempted to make conversation with the King of Doriath even once. 

“We are going to be together!”

“No! I am not going to bend to this sick and twisted plan that you two have concocted!” You said to him angrily, because there wasn’t anything on Arda or Ea that was going to let you give into this plan. You wanted nothing to do with it at all. It was time for Celegorm to make a choice. 

“You have a choice Celegorm. It’s either me or it’s her.” You hiccuped out, bringing your glass up to sip as you took another step back from him. You could maybe forgive the things he said… Maybe make him apologize for it for the next 100 years and then some. You knew he would, as Celegorm could be impulsive and stupid. His words not yours. Often you didn’t let the excuse he created to be what you used to ignore his mistakes. 

You didn’t want to lose him, no matter how badly those words made your chest ache when you thought back on them. You wanted to make the exception because you feared what life was like without him… Then again you were ready to abandon this life for something new even if it was scary. You weren’t going to be tied to him while he was tied to Luthien forcibly. 

There was a tense silence, and for once you didn’t want to jump to conclusions about what it was he was thinking. You wanted him to be actually considering his options and the consequences they had. Specifically the hair-brained plan that he was going to marry Luthien and you. Or choosing Luthien over you. 

“Y/N.” Celegorm said in a calm voice, taking a step forward to be near you. It made your heart begin to pound with some hope. Looking up at him with a more soft expression, waiting for him to finish his words,

“I can’t choose. This must be done.” He answered in a surprisingly soft voice, and immediately your face soured. You had let your hope grow too immense, and now it was shattered. You felt the returning ache in your chest, the way your heart fell into the pit of your stomach. You were hurt that he wouldn’t choose you over this plan or over Luthien. 

“Fine. If you can’t make the choice then I will.” You answered him bitterly, 

“I’m done Celegorm. We are done.” You said, turning on the ball of your foot and making your way to the door. 

“Y/N!” He called out behind you, there was the slight sound of panic on his voice as you heard him start after you. But you didn’t stop. You were finished. If he wanted to go through with this plan, well then you would make it easy for him. You weren’t going to be tacked on so callously like an extra perk. You were supposed to be his spouse. Not Luthien. 

If you weren’t good enough for Celegorm now, then you knew you’d never be good enough. So with that you slammed the office door behind you. Only to hear the sound of glass shattering meet your ears.

* * *

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar​ @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87​ @anunexpectedsideblog​ @spidergirla5​ @eunoiaastralwings​ @eternalabysss​  @noldorinpainter​

[adelaidedrubman]

it’s serving absolute wednesday

i was tagged on this particular wednesday by my dears @nightbloodbix @cassietrn @deputyash @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat to share a wip! (and by folks last week too i think but scrolling through notifs hard so apologies for any double tags for those who just posted and obviously no pressure).

unfortunately have not been able to write much this week due to the Week of it all, so fished up (haha) a hl&s chapter 4 excerpt i have already posted a little bit of before (if you saw it pretend i didn’t).

And she wore the wide, toothy grin of a bear with a fresh caught salmon between her paws as she shucked off her shirt, single auburn brow quirked up as she held it out to him as if offering food to a cub. “Think you can get dressed all by yourself like a big boy, too?” When he didn’t immediately respond, she thrust a hand against his chest to push him back flat against the fence again, shoving the collar over his head herself.  “I’ve got it from here,” he bit out, elbowing her away. “Thank you for all the unrequested manhandling.”

“Funny way of saying ‘emergency medical care,’” she grunted, crossing her arms over her barely covered chest. “And a fine of job of it, too, you could fucking add. You’ll still need to find a real doctor eventually to pluck out the fishing line and super glue everything back together, but I’m sure you can manage a few more weeks of not buying a new boat to afford the co-pay on glorified Elmer’s. So long as you’re up to date on your tetanus shots, everything’ll heal up just fine. I did good stitchwork.” “Go to a real doctor, you say?” he replied, forcing a hint of condescension back into his tone as he poked shaking arms through sleeves. “Does that mean you fancy yourself something of an amateur? A would-be? Perhaps a failed ambition, before you chose to cast your lot amongst trout and speeding tickets?” She flashed him a sweet, dimple framed smile clearly meant to exaggerate the straining of a patience she’d never actually once exercised.  “It means I’m someone who usually has to settle for doing my own first aid,” she chimed brightly, swinging her head away from him. “My fuckin’ condolences. I understand that must be a scary new experience for you.”  “So I shouldn’t use the satellite phone I’ve been hiding this entire time to summon the private jet I keep on retainer to fly me straight to the Mayo Clinic over this?” he hummed, sparing a brief, belated glance to the freshly-tended wound as he pulled the borrowed shirt down over his chest. She wasn’t wrong — she did well enough. The skin had the sheen of thorough cleaning, her stitchwork tight but precise in its binding. There had certainly been far worse done by his own immature hand in its day, faded silken webs of scarring memorializing unsteady job of a sewing needle and thread in the dark of his childhood bedroom forking out and framing the fresh set of stitches.  Mementos she’d also seen, it occurred to him in retrospect as he tugged the hem of the shirt down, stopping just below his navel to leave a small sliver of stomach exposed above his waistband. And perhaps that was the source of her arrogance about her own work — heartless, smug little thing she was.  Yes, he knew the likes of her, knew that every little act of seeming kindness was merely an opportunity to cruelly poke and prod for her own amusement. Right down to the shirt given off her back — still smelling of her, he noted, tilting his head down as he rubbed the fabric of the collar between his fingers to stir up the scent. 

sending tags out to @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @theresaruggedroad @just-another-wasteland-merc @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @simplegenius042 @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @nuclearstorms @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @corvosattano + opt in here to be tagged + again, no pressure!

[ciaossu-imagines]

For the holiday day of the event, I used the below prompt for the cast from Mystic Messenger! Though there’s not a lot of headcanons, I hope any fans of the series enjoy this small collection of headcanons I wrote up 😊 And just a reminder that I’m really appreciative of all you lovely constant readers who put up with (and some who even encourage) me writing all the unrequested prompts and having fun with them!

Have you ever gone to a pumpkin patch?

I do think both V and Jumin have been to a pumpkin patch at least once. They went together to one when they were both kids, when Jihyun was on a trip abroad with Jumin. The Chairman had business to take care of in America and the nanny thought it would be fun for the then 9–10-year-old boys to go pick out pumpkins in the pumpkin patch and to carve them into Jack o’ Lanterns. V and Rika would also go to one later on in V’s life. He really loves the look of the pumpkin patches and had wanted to capture some pictures, especially ones of Rika enjoying herself and choosing a pumpkin. He gets one of her holding her prized pumpkin while sitting on a hay bale that becomes one of his favourite pictures of her.

Zen has also been to a pumpkin patch before. It wasn’t so much because he was really interested in choosing a pumpkin or anything really to do with Halloween, at least in personal terms. He was along assisting some of the stage crew for a Halloween inspired play he was a part of. They needed pumpkins as prompts and the stage crew just didn’t have enough people free to go and pick all the ones they would need, so Zen had agreed to lend a hand.

Jaehee has never been to a pumpkin patch. It’s not something that really interests her and she wouldn’t know anything about which pumpkin to pick, about how to go about choosing one or anything like that.

Yoosung hasn’t been to a pumpkin patch before, but he really does have an interest in going to one. The thing is that he wants to go visit a pumpkin patch with his first partner, as a cute date idea. It’s a romantic little fantasy, him and his first lover going and picking out a pumpkin together, maybe getting a hay bale ride while they’re there or going through a corn maze if it’s available before they’d go home and work on carving the pumpkin together.

Saeyoung has been to a pumpkin patch, back during his university days with a group of friends. It was one of the few times when he could really just relax, pretend to be someone else entirely, someone normal, and just experience the day as anyone else would. He has really fond memories of the event, but he doesn’t want to revisit one. He just feels like he might be disappointed if he does.

Saeran has never been to a pumpkin patch. He knows they exist; he knows of their connection to Halloween and autumn fun but that’s about it. However, because autumn is his favourite season and he has a real fascination for the creepiness and macabre Halloween holiday, he’s always been curious about going to one. He’s just a little unsure about going by himself to one so he’s never taken the step to experience it.

Vanderwood has never been to a pumpkin patch, and he has zero interest in doing so. He’ll be just fine if he never has to go to one in his life.

[molter-writes]

dude i have a question that might be considered out of pocket but i need your brilliant take on it

i was rewatching the finale last night (because i like to cause myself pain) and i got to the part where aemond said he wanted to make a gift of luke's eye to his mother

so my question is

genuinely, what the hell do you think alicent would have done if aemond returned with luke's fucking eye😭😭😭

lmao welcome to my entirely unrequested character study of aemond. short answer: she'd be horrified, and that scene more than anything speaks to the beautiful fraught asymmetry of alicent and aemond's relationship, palpable and tragic and woefully understudied.

alicent does not desire violence and does not particularly respect violent people. e.g., we can imagine characters who might have been heartened or reassured — even if interspersed with guilt — that larys had been willing to kill to advance their interests. alicent is never shown to appreciate this silver lining; she is deeply remorseful and properly disturbed. the end of the season finds her attempting to stave off catastrophic violence surrounded by men who are effectively unbothered by the thought. aemond is one of these men. he is also her favourite man. i think this breaks her heart a little.

i'll preface this by stating again how much i sympathise with aemond, who is really neither a slick badass — his facade — nor a calculating psychopath — his caricature. aemond spends his childhood awash in a feeling of inescapable, humiliating powerlessness, and everything he becomes is a direct response to this experience, including his unfailing loyalty to his mother, his sole childhood advocate and ally. but aemond clocks alicent's powerlessness, too; and probably at no other time more palpably than during the quarrel at driftmark. viserys leaves her in the lurch; cole backs out when the rubber hits the road. when he tells her i gained a dragon, i don't think he's actually saying it was a fair exchange; clearly he doesn't really feel that way — he's still seeking his revenge years and years later (and fair enough). rather, i think he's telling her — and importantly, telling the people he perceives to be her enemies — we have real power now. we're safe. i got you.

aemond consistently strives to be alicent's one reliable ally. aemond also spends his life trying to make himself more powerful, and, if i were to really speculate, probably hasn't determined within his own heart whether he's done so to protect himself and his mother in the conflict he's seen presaged at driftmark, or in excited anticipation of that conflict as an opportunity to seek revenge. herein we find the crucial difference in how alicent and aemond each perceive safety, and perceive power — alicent thinks safety is found in the absence of violence, and power is the ability to be free from it; aemond seems to believe safety is found in a monopoly on violence and power is the ability to do it. it's entirely unrelated, and not to be insensitive by mixing factual and fictional tragedy, but i think sometimes about something prince harry once said about his childhood experiences watching the press chase and torment princess diana — his frustration knowing he would one day be a man, that he would one day be able to protect her, but not yet — and the anger, the frustration that caused. i append to aemond, though fictional, a very similar pain.

regardless, to whatever end, aemond's intention is to be feared and to be dangerous. he tells cole i don't give a fuck about tourneys for the express purpose of tipping us off: aemond is trying to become as effective as possible at killing real opponents in a real conflict. two things here: first, though aemond may not care for tourneys like the knights Rhaenys calls green as summer grass, he's equally inexperienced; he also doesn't know — cannot know — the true meaning of war or the costs associated. (see, e.g., his crucial misunderstanding of the nature of vhagar.) and second, tragically, though he's probably (if perhaps only partially) done so for her, he's become exactly the kind of man who has left alicent feeling trapped and perpetually terrified. olivia cooke somewhere noted that alicent lives in trepidation surrounded by 'psychopath men', and part of this fear seems to be what these men will do in her name and under the guise of advancing her interests. e.g., she knows larys' murder of lyonel did double duty. Tis only a look of pride, Ser Criston. Larys is the new lord of Harrenhal. to have become somewhat afraid of aemond — apprehensive, at least, of his adult nature — will likely only grow harder on her and harder to ignore. and the same will likely come of aemond's unintentional killing of lucerys, and would come had aemond returned instead with his severed eye: horror at the act; guilt and terror and frustration at the knowledge — however deeply buried — that aemond would have done it not for her, or for their family, but for himself; and that once again, she has been made the unwilling catalyst for the very violence she strives so painfully to prevent.

[crystalmarred]

It takes her a bit to muscle up the courage. It takes her a bit to climb out of bed, a sniff and a face rub.

Padding over, Lyna stepped toward the bedroom, peeking in with a lip bite. Why was it so hard? He left the door open for a reason. He even offered the room beforehand, but no. No she was an ADULT. At this young age? Course not. . .

Reaching up after shuffling through the darkness of the room, she tugged on the bed sheets, gasping and shuffling backward when the reaction was immediate.

Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to form the words to answer his groggy question. "P-papa? Can . . . Can I. . . I had a bad dream - Can I sleep with you?"

— UNPROMPTED ;; ( @diademreigned )

It was rare that the Crystal Exarch felt the proper need to sleep. The tower was typically what sustained him. More often than note, when he rested, it was more out of personal preference than actual necessity. It quelled the constant thoughts of doubt that plagued him, where the Crystal Tower couldn't quiet such things.

Thus, deep sleep did not come easily to him. So it was only natural that when there was a tug on the sheets he was wrapped in, he stirred.

Red eyes peered through the darkness, sought out the person who had grabbed onto his sheets and found...

"Lyna?" he asked, voice soft and groggy from the half-sleep he'd been in. The tears in her eyes tugged at his heart, made him wonder what had happened until she at last explained.

Papa. It was a rare word, one he'd heard more often of late. He had not asked her to use it, could not ask her to use it on good conscience. After all, she'd lost two parents that had cared for her deeply and he refused to replace them, but...

For her to use the word of her own volition, unprompted and unrequested, how it made his heart soar...

"Of course you can, Lyna, you know needn't ask permission."

Gentle was his voice as he reached out to wipe away the tears that sat at the edges of her eyes.

The Crystal Exarch pulled aside the sheets as he patted the empty space next to him and reached down to help her climb up. She was already taller than he had been, at her age, and he could only imagine that she would be equal to his own height in only a few years.

"Do you want to talk about it...?"

[laughingpinecone]

Yuletide 2024 letter

AO3: laughingpineapple

(treats welcome, AO3 settings a-ok in that respect)

Hello and thank you for writing for me! I hope you’ll have a great time playing with one of these wonderful canons!

I love a wide variety of fics - from strict gen to explicit, any tense, any format, big yes to all kinds of weird experiments up to and including external povs, found documents, interactive fiction etc. In general, I love canon expansion (showing new places/events/stuff in the setting or exploring those that are barely mentioned, just outside the borders), character work of all stripes (expanding on little quirks, putting characters in situations that complement/challenge certain personality traits of theirs, just… observing these weirdos as they live their lives, for better and for worse), magical realism and adjacent approaches. I eat up emotional moments with a spoon when a fic is character-centric (pining! danger! catharsis! hurt/comfort! the nitty-gritty of attraction!) and also love abstract stuff that at most touches shrimp emotions from afar: fake academia, a wider focus, inhuman povs, anything goes.

For both romance and friendships, I love it when it’s clear (not necessarily to the characters themselves, but to the narrative) what it is that they like about each other, how they get along, if and how they trust each other. The specificity of each dynamic! I also love it when the characters are very into something that makes sense for them, be it a hobby or a kink or whatever, even if it’s something I may not personally care for.

DNW: non-canonical rape, non-canonical children, focus on children, pregnancies, unrequested ships (background established canon couples are okay, mentions of parents and paired-up OC randos are okay!), canon retellings

In strict alphabetical order and with the usual disclaimer that shorter prompts don’t mean I want it any less, and that recycled prompts don't mean that I didn't print out and adore last years' gifts, just that my tastes are still the same as last year (there's also a few new prompts among the copypasted bricks!):

GHOST TRICK (Cabanela, Jowd)

All good for me: Jowd/Cabanela, Alma/Jowd/Cabanela, Alma/Jowd&Cabanela, any take that doesn't downplay/erase Alma (anything set during the game timeline or in alternate scenarios where they don't reset, for example!), or one-sided on Cabs' end while Jowd cares for him in a different way, or a Very (Very) Intense Friendship. Shippy or not, for me the draw is that these two are an unstoppable/immovable pair of burning determination and cosmic pessimism, big on loyalty (or at least big on being on the receiving end of it in Jowd's case) and being two difficult individuals who can and do get on people's nerves in record time but just fit with each other so easily… and ace the broccoli test like nbd. when they want to. which they might not. In Sissel's own words, whatever these two have got going on, warm or cold, it's "immeasurably deep" and I love to see that OTT dynamic play out in any way. If you want to include Alma, I'd be delighted, what's your take on her, there are so many great possibilities - could she be as cheerfully nihilistic as her husband, when push comes to shove? How would a 'boyfriend clothes' scenario work with the two or the three of them? Is there a supernatural/ghostly situation Jowd and Cabanela (and Alma? or Lynne? Sissel?) walk into that sees them well on top of their game thanks to their experience with the friendly ghost cat in the house? Or something eerie that's out of their wheelhouse even with Sissel's ghost tricks? What about a beach day but also a hiking trip, snowed in, anything? Dancing? Does Cabanela fail to remain spotless in any sense, ranging from oily bike repairs to more serious symbolic scenarios? Undercover shenanigans for either or both of them? Cabs and Alma bonding while Jowd is away? No-reset scenarios where Jowd, Sissel and the girls come back alive from the submarine (or never reach it, or whatever) but can't change the timeline, and a Cabanela who got shot and exploded has to maybe go live with Jowd and Kamila for a long while? Any kind of AU - different job, classic fantasy, classic sci-fi?

Ship-wise, Jowd falling in love fascinates me. Cabanela feels like he's been down bad for an impossible target for some time (one impossible target or two, conveniently married to each other) but for Jowd it all comes at such an awkward moment. He was ready to die and hurt them all posthumously (with the music box twist) to make it easier for them to leave him behind, and now what's this? He may not even have considered being into men before, what's that like, when does he realize that that's what's happening? Then it turns out his old friend laid down his life for him??? wild. and then he's ten years younger again, with a loving family and a Sparklesue of a friend-colleague-rival, and all these memories…

Fandom-specific DNWs: Cabanela-Yomiel reconciliations, everyone having memories of the old timeline

I SAW THREE CITIES - KAY SAGE (PAINTING)

As weird painting requests often go, I would like to read something that feels like this, and Kay Sage's oeuvre in general. The more surrealist the better. I am intrigued by the conversation between the title and the painting proper, and I'm open to any take on it: is there an unseen narrator who saw three cities in their travels, and the present image is either one of them or a homecoming, or across time and this is where we're at now? Or is the veiled structure/figure the pov? Is it possible to understand what's under the veil? Can you hear the wind blowing across the still landscape? And how can this get any stranger? Feel free to bring in elements from other paintings of hers, if that's where your idea leads you!

PÜHA JA ÕUDNE LÕHN | SACRED AND TERRIBLE AIR (Ignus Nilsen)

So there's this man of extremes (even for Elysium standards) who lived and fought for the burning belief in a better world, who left his homeland with a double middle finger and somehow, in a foreign land, grew devoted to a good man and his ideals and theory, their theory, and then lost him and their hope at once, and still tried to keep going, to begin anew, and failed there too, and even after his death in exile his beliefs did not waver. Always a live wire. He loved the world, every atom of it. A man whose devotion was so intense that it had to be erased from history, giving birth to a different legend instead. As a friend once put it, the spectre of communism is real and he's a bitter old queen.

I ship him and Mazov very much (dialectically, ideologically, handholdingly, through the ages and in the eternity of the pale, everything he says about the man sounds like the yearning of a sad old lover), and Mazov himself I love in every aspect. If you go down this path, I'm good with period-typical internalized homophobia being a thing in the fic. INTENSE HANDHOLDING ACTION very welcome. Also in-universe Mazov/Nilsen academic discussion, earnest sculptors, zines etc. But also: Ion Rodionov thirdwheeling into their life like a stray cat and supporting their idea even knowing that it would fail is amazing. The fact that Nilsen indulged his whims in their exile (the orchestra, really?) and presumably got his apocalyptic moniker from him (we know that it's because he warned people of the apocalypse) paints an interesting friendship to me, especially in the raw times after Mazov's death. The Zigi&Nilsen camping trip is a tragic delight and I'll always want more of that, and of Zigi himself, and of what Nilsen saw in him, and the other way round. The tragedy of that final mutual understanding of defeat - what led up to it, what companionship did they find in each other, hard as it was at times? Or what about the time Zigi spent with the Lund sisters while Nilsen went ballistic over teen girl mags, 'cause that sure was something canon felt the need to inform us of. As last year's gift showed, Khan could make for a very interesting pov, with his special interest in disappearances and Ignus being an disappearance himself as per Lilienne. Khan is also something of a dialectical materialist himself, unless he's a poser who's only wearing the glasses for clout. Would he get a grumpy ghost visit too? Dobreva and Abadanaiz don't deserve the party misogynist, but here they are and here he is. How did they handle him? I think their stated dynamic of burning star and satellite is also probably true for Mazov and Nilsen to some degree - any fun parallels? Voronikin can also be an interesting foil, as the resident Dude Who'd Chuck Himself Into The Pale (and come back mostly in one piece). What were Ignus' thoughts about the pale by the time the SRV was up and running? Rodionov was looking for the Trench, what did he think of all that? And rounding up the tagset once again IT'S AMBROSIUS WITH A STEEL CHAIR. I am incredibly fascinated both by Nilsen's (and Zigi's!) opinions on the ruling Innocence, and by the possibility that bb Ambrosius may have met all the future heads of the Revolution when he was being tutored by Ion, and/or that the failure of the Revolution may have been a turning point in his beliefs. Outside the tagset, anything with Sport is bound to be terribadamazing bc Sport, and Ukhotomsky was around as another of Mazov's close friends but it feels to me like he was the exact opposite of Ignus so that could make for interesting scenarios.

Some prompts: does his consciousness in the pale (subjectively either before or after his adventure with Zigi) meet some interesting people à la Nadia n Frantiček the Brave - "5 historical figures he met who are not Mazov + 1 long-awaited reunion" sort of thing? Some examples of Teachers Being Like That feat. him and Rodionov? Sitcom-tier shenanigans with the upper echelons of the revolution + that kid with the rancid vibes that Ion brought in? In case Nilsen's canon lil treatise on "early homebrewing" referred to tabletop homebrewing, what did their gaming look like - was it an early form of roleplaying proper or, like, reconceptualizing chess or Monopoly? What about any of his exiles, given how he was first thrown out of Katla, then Graad, then they tried to kill him in Samara too and he spent his last days in exile and according to a throwaway line he counts as one of Elysium's great disappearances (does Khan have some fun intel on all that, or maybe Ulv)? Did the various pale crossings mess him up? What about the crossing of the lungs of Graad, toward the interisolary pale, with the blood of thousands of prisoners still fresh behind them? Or how'd he take his hut era, when did those feral months in the polar wilderness happen in his timeline, what kind of weirdness can we expect above Elysium's polar circle, did he have Mazov to return to in Graad and just how emotional can we make this reunion? Any scenario like "idk, Kras Mazov was like 70% of my impulse control"? What was it like, gaining consciousness in the near pale and becoming more than Zigi's dialectic frenemy (or was there always a true spark of him in there)? Did they feel uniquely cut off from the pale that surrounded them? Did they ever talk about Ambrosius? Did he ever pull off some other godly rhetoric stunt like reverting the pale through stubbornness and conviction alone? Some identity musings based on all three heads of the revolution going under new names, and considering them nom de guerre? Something about Ignus' troubled relationship with his homeland - as it goes, he fought hard to deny the Vaasan allegations and Vaasa fought harder to deny the him allegations? What about his blacksmithing skills (and what makes one an apocalyptic blacksmith, specifically - how do these two things go together)? Or any of his numerous Opinions which he penned on so many topics? Or just slap him (in person or cytoplasmically, 's not like death or censorship could stop him) in a Situation that has some weird worldbuilding in it? He's so extra at all times! He's fun to put in Situations. Genuinely any Nilsen/&Mazov or Nilsen & anyone else in the tagset would fill me with glee.

NUCLEAR EDIT AFTER THE LATEST ROUND OF "MARTIN LUIGA SAYS THINGS ON TWITTER":

...make of this what you will. Add the most heartbreaking yearning to their pale trekking days. Make it work somehow, ass or no ass. I think there's something of Mazov in Zigi (by way of there being a lot of Mazov in Harry, and a lot of Harry in Zigi). Let them be guarded and harsh and ironic about this, or not. I don't even KNOW, I didn't have this on my bingo card.

Fandom-specific DNWs: "magpies" and the idea that the pale is generated from novelties. that reddit theory about Målin being pregnant with Zigi's child. I'm open to a variety of options for the sisters' disappearance but should it come up I would prefer if it were their own decision to vanish, a decision dictated by some kind of (non-bourgeois) ideology, and for Zigi to be loyal to all four of them. I would also prefer Nilsen's big hangup about his fellow communists to follow the translation which sees them as "prey" rather than "beasts". And please, do not excuse his grandiose shittiness. The old coot's misogyny is what it is and ditto the war crimes, etc.

PYRE (Volfred Sandalwood)

I’m so charmed by this smug revolutionary tree it’s not even funny. Make up any situation in which he can do his thing and I’ll be happy - be sort of full of himself but also sort of rightfully so, pragmatic to a fault except when he’s overwhelmed by grief, bearing the burden of taking care of the practical side of an impossible shared vision (and seeing it fail before it started and eventually picking up the pieces and starting again), long-winded and very much in love with his voice (also rightfully so) and also that’s what history professors are like, extremely charismatic, a mind reader with a higher calling which is always a dangerous combo when it comes to maybe going a step too far. I love this story set at the end of a cycle and I’m enamoured with characters who have enough historical awareness to acknowledge it and see that it’s up to them to bring about a new era. Canon’s bittersweet idealism is catnip to me.

I love him with Tariq who seems to be as charmed by him as I am (the shy, vague title of Volfred’s theme combined with its James Bond vibes are a killer combo. Tariq please) and with Oralech who’s maybe the only guy who can go “Volfred no” when needed. I love his friendship with his oldest friend Bertrude with all the camaraderie it entails, and with all the Nightwings, really. Volfred & Hedwyn! & Rukey! & Pamitha! & ae!!! There may be complicated feelings there that I'd be very interested in seeing explored, but when it comes to the Nightwings, I'd rather see a reconciliation, a positive resolution, or at least a narrative that understands both sides.

I would also be interested in seeing him face people from the other triumvirates in more or less friendly situations - generally sticking close to canon for the level of danger they might pose. Volfred & Dalbert bonding and fanboying the Scribes on one end; Udmildhe maybe being a real actual threat on the other end, with Extreme Sap Drama Volfred VS Manley somewhere in the middle - Volfred haaates having to deal with Manley and what is fanfiction for if not bothering our faves? Or Volf VS Brighton for that matter, with more intense levels of annoyance and pomp and juicy ideological clashes. In these cases I wouldn’t be interested in a reconciliation, and I don’t sympathize with Manley nor Brighton but I do find them very funny and good characters in their own right and I’m just here with popcorn for the catfight. How’d it go if he had to spend some time with Ignarius? Or Celeste? And of course when it comes to the True Nightwings, things get loaded - Volfred/Oralech-wise, does Volfred get a treacherous "oh no he's super hot now" moment sneaking in between the piles of complicated feelings and hurt and confusion?

As general Volf prompts: revolutionary bonding, be it with Oralech (early on or after everything), or awakening Some Things in Tariq, or Bertie or anyone else who'll share that vision. SMUG revolutionary bonding, him being the way he is? What was he like before his exile, what did his underground political engagement look like? Downside ending being a strange kind of freedom for someone who's been driven all his life. Opinions on the Scribes! Overly detailed, strong Opinionssss on tiny details like you'd expect from your average academic, and whom is he talking to? Someone who agrees? Someone who knows more than him (Tariq, ae…)? Someone who hates those guys' guts (Sandra, Oralech…)? He’s a natural schemer, does he naturally assume that everyone else is also scheming 24/7? Does anyone (my bet’s on Pam) find out that he literally graded the Nightwings’ usefulness to the Plan? Is he a chain smoker or is it a one pipe a day kind of deal?

I don’t have specific headcanons about Sap biology; if you do, please tell me all about them. With or without Oralech’s or Tariq's involvement (whose biology is probably also delightfully weird). Capital-letter-Reading can also be involved! What’s it like to mind-meld with the actual moon, or to get permission from the guy who spent like six years hating your guts?

Long shot: Elysium AU? get some star-and-antlers on this guy one way or another?

Fandom-specific DNWs: Oralech dead, Volfred and Oralech split end (I’m good with either topside or downside ending, as long as they're on the same side), Ignarius/Jodariel, Tariq/Celeste, ae/Almer (I know, I know, luck in canon ships, that's me 😅 love Hedwyn/Fikani tho!). The Reader being a central character in the fic.

SEA OF STARS (Garl, Resh'an)

It's like this game grabbed the two character types that have been catnip to me since time immemorial and put them both in the party at once. Here's the guy so chill and loving that you can't believe he's for real! Here's the blue-orange-morality immortal symbolically hidden by layers of fabric! And then Garl dies in a way that is played up to its rightful max, his absence is felt so keenly, and then he even gets to come back with a satisfying sleight of hand! And everyone celebrates him! And the artbook says his elemental meddling made him multiclass as Ovate, which is a verrrry intriguing statement all things considered. And on Resh'an's side of things, he's so caught up in distant flickers of hope, calculations, regrets across so many worlds... and then he gets to hang out with mortals, to exist in the moment, to make friends for a short while, before the weight of his past mistakes (and the complicated push and pull of his Basic Ex(tm)) drags him away again.

I'd like to see anything that plays up the potential odd lopsided friendship dynamic between these most rooted and least rooted characters. Garl who knows that a good soup and a hug will drag two fledgling gods back to earth for a day, and who may grow into something weirder himself, a link to the forgotten past of this world and perhaps a new future... and on the other hand Resh'an who's barely really there at any given moment, who's got the weight of worlds and timelines on his shoulders, and who's properly touching grass for the first time in so, so long. Missing moment is good. Postcanon is good. Anywhere in either world, the Archives, or make up someplace weird. Touching upon the fact that Garl's whole death and resurrection was all on Resh'an, and very blue-orange morality of him, can also be interesting.

I'm very keen on Valere and Zale quietly shedding their mortality as the plot goes on in an understated ascension... ...except for Garl. They're still Valere and Zale when they are with him. I'm also familiar with The Shopkeeper Stand-Up Special Messenger.

STALKER (1979) (worldbuilding)

I'm open to seeing things through the pov of the titular stalker, his daughter, Porcupine, an OC stalker and/or OC client(s) thereof, or even something more abstract. Anything in the tone of the movie will make me happy. A little expansion in any direction. The Professor-Writer dichotomy in the movie is great but the symbolic potential of the Room is so huge, so overflowing, that I think one could come up with more scenarios that resonate well with it. How does anyone relate to that? Likewise, that thin surreal line, so thin that at time it feels like it's nothing at all, surely has room for more routes, more strange happenings, or just the shadow of them.

Side note, I have not yet read Roadside picnic nor is it likely that I'll manage to read it before Yuletide this year, so any deep cut refs will sadly go unnoticed by me. But you're of course welcome to add them as long as they're not overt spoilers!

[ro-presents-under-the-nola-stars]

In this AU, we see a butch JJ, who allows herself to live relatively open as a lesbian. She doesn't seem to have ever been with men or anything, and she doesn't seem to mind being affectionate with Shy in public. She doesn't let herself be openly butch, though. She was even kind of femme presenting when she met Shy, but Shy still treats her like she's butch and sees her as such. I guess I was just wondering if you can provide insight into what informs the way Shy treats her and interacts with her. I was also wondering if Shy realizes the weight of importance of her treating JJ this way.

jasira is a fan of traditional of masculine/feminine roles in relationships. she's always noticed those dynamics in the relationships she saw modeled for her growing up. a part of the way she treats jj comes from how she saw the women she looked up to treat their partners. and, so, she grew w the image of when u like/love someone, u tend to them in ur ways and they tend to u in theirs, and it's a balanced give and take but the roles/responsibilities are different. so, that's a third of it.

another third of it is her past relationship. continuing the cycle of how the women she looked up to treated their partners within that relationship taught her how it could take the edge off of her ex's brutality. it is partially a survival tactic, too, not just a show of care/like/love. the survival part of it is the part of her that feels like it's a bit of an obligation. over time, the safer she gets w jj, the more lax she becomes about certain things, and the more we see her lean into the pure desire part of the way she treats jj.

the other part of it -- the jennifer jareau specifics of it -- is that she is really is responding to the energy she gets from jj and to the jj she knows. jj is butch, but not openly so; she presents the way she feels in her home, fully and unabashedly. so, a huge huge huge portion of their relationship/connection happens over skype. all that means is that jasira is used to seeing jj at her most comfortable, she's used to seeing herself be her most masculine, most un-repressed self. so, when she calls her things like "sir" or "daddy" or allows people to refer to jj as her "boyfriend" or caters to her in a way that would b considered "submissive" or whatever, all of those things, she does because she's responding to energy and the version of jj she's most familiar with. also, the version of jj she is most attracted to. she's aware that jj isn't as open about that part of herself, because she didn't present that way when they first met, but jasira felt the energy. it was softer then, but she still felt that masculine energy in her, and even then, she was responding to that.

as far as whether or not she understands the weight that her constant, unrequested affirmation carries, the is no? she doesn't really understand the weight of it, but she couldn't ever really get it. she has her hopes. she hopes it makes jj feel good. she hopes it makes her feel empowered. but, despite the fact that she grew up familiar w the existence of studs/butches, it's not like she's ever had anyone talk to her about them. they were jus around them. she doesn't really understand the complexities of the butch identity and what it would b like to navigate the world as a gender nonconforming woman. not jus that, but jj's own journey w her queerness and her unprocessed childhood trauma is a whole other thing that shy has no insight to. so, she doesn't realize that when she treats jj the way she treats her or when she calls her those little nicknames or uses those honorifics that she's slowly healing a lot of deeply rooted past hurts. she doesn't understand that the constant, unrequested affirmation she gives jj makes jj feel less wrong about how she sees herself and how she feels about her identity and her body and the way she wants to b loved/treated in her relationships. she's got the basic surface level idea of trying to help jj feel more confident in her own skin, but she doesn't understand the why behind why she doesn't. so, yeah, the true weight of importance is lost on her.

[imjulia-andilikecats]

As skilled as Maven was in politicking, he sure screwed up when he let Mare live when he captured her.

Warning: Me rambling aimlessly

Mare Barrow's imprisonment, where she was tortured, isolated, paraded and forced to publicly condemn the Scarlet Guard had painful and severly damaged her health.

Her imprisonmet often being brought up multiple times in Monfort hearings, as a way to question her competence and her allegiance, whenever she tried to speak to them.

However, it also backfired on Maven.

Mare was a valuable prisoner with her information about newbloods and the Scarlet Guard's current base. He could have extracted information from her but he didn't. Evangeline did.

She had a hand in the Sun Shooting in book one, where a number of Elite Silver were assassinated.

She was also the one who murdered his mother. Yet, he kept her alive.

Not only alive, but imprisoned her in a well furnished room, had her wear extravagant gowns covered in precious stones, meals served to her on expensive china and a healer always ready to put her back together.

Maven might have been a skilled politician, but he was not careful nor even tried to hide his conflicted feelings towards Mare.

Evangeline saw that and pushed Mare towards him, clounding his judgment, causing him to speedrun his way to his inevitable demise.

I did posted a few months ago, that he made a number of smart political moves in King's Cage.

Which he did, changing back the age of conscription from 15 to 18, and ending the hundred year war with a marriage pack.

However, he mostly gained the approval of the public eye, but not the silvers on his side.

And who can blame them?

He kept around the person who is a threat to them. Even having private meals with him. Blowing off thousands of dollars worth of tax payer's money just to woo his unrequested crush, who has a knack for breaking expensive china.

Add to that, after the attempted assassination. Maven became paranoid and ended up sending away some of his "allies" while having their children as hostage. A move that made those Silvers momentarily wished for democracy. *King's Cage Epilogue*.

In short, Maven might have appeared to be a level headed rule that ended the 100 year War. In the eyes of the silver elites, he was unpredictable and harsh. A cruel Silver King that could be swayed by a Red Girl in chains.

[cwpiqwons-archive]

𖥻 Shitty extras pt 1❕

@ hwaseonghwa

Park Seonghwa. y/n's older brother and the ceo of his own company. literally raised y/n cuz their parents were almost never present. has a boyfriend.

@hongkong

Kim Hongjoong. Seonghwa's boyfriend. cares for y/n as if she's his sister. used to help her sneak out of the house when Seonghwa would ground her. has a younger sister.

@chaewonatlife

Kim Chaewon. hongjoong's younger sister. older than y/n. met the parks through her brother and literally adopted y/n on the spot. y/n got her bad b*tch personality from her. a menace. Ships y/n with someone who isn't Jayoon 👀

@youngandwinning

Jang Wonyoung. a trainee under starship ent. met y/n by accident. y/n found the girl crying one day and brought her bread. safe to say Wonyoung followed her around like a cat after that day.

Y/n, a hopeless romantic who can't seem to get over her crush, shim jayoon. her love for the girl is very evident to everyone including the girl herself. follow our mc: y/n, her ride or die: seeun and the love interest: yoon as they knit a tale of unrequested love, friendship, heartbreak and pure, unfiltered angst<3

> masterlist <

[rectoress]

@therelentless

"I did!" Not. This coffee, it had all been Guillermo (his personal assistant), but the whole coffee thing had been his idea. This therapy, this was not for Nandor. As much as he enjoyed talking about himself and relished in the sound of his own voice, sometimes her questions made him uncomfortable and got him thinking about things he preferred to ignore. Wanting to prolong the short-lived silences of this meeting any way he could, it had been his idea to show up with some unrequested coffee for her, making it up as a small token of gratitude (was that acceptable? he didn't care), because he had gotten to the conclusion that the more she occupied herself by drinking from it, the less she would talk, therefore the fewer questions she would ask. And what did she like in her coffee, who the fuck knew, he made that a problem for Guillermo to figure it out. "You better start drinking it now before it gets cold. Might taste terrible later."

He did. “You did.” The reiteration wan't so much for him as it was for herself.  Sounding it out loud gave it shape, as if the words themselves were giving it some sort of tangible quality and making it real. 

“Well. Now then.”

Tissaia looked up, blinking away what remnants of stupor lingered on her face and in her eyes as they had stared down at the cup in her hands, and arranged her face with a careful and precise combination of gratitude and neutrality.  “This is considerate of you, Nandor.” A gesture imparting kindness and the desire to express an emotion motivated by something which hadn't centred on himself. Rather impressive. She would not, however, say this. It was her opinion, her professional one, that there was absolutely no need to dispense praise - especially not when attached to an intention crossing over the boundaries of their relationship as patient and health professional. 

“Thank you. I will.” She would have to even though she was very particular about the way she took her coffee and doubted Nandor either knew or had gone to the trouble of finding out.  She did not say this either. Instead, she sat down and delicately settled the cup on her desk. “I trust you are well since the last time I saw you.” Tissaia fiddled with the cuffs of her sleeves, sat up straighter and smoothed over non-existent creases on her lap. “Now. Tell me. Why did you do this?"

[ridiasfangirlings]

Reisi buying Adolf something unrequested because it made Reisi think of him

I could see Munakata being thoughtful this way, he strikes me as someone who would notice even small things about his partner and keep those in mind. Imagine one day he’s like in a toy store buying something for his niece and nephew and he spots this figure kit for making an airship, it immediately reminds him of the Himmelreich. He ends up buying it and then the next time he meets Shiro for a date Munakata proudly presents him the figure. Shiro’s curious what sort of present Munakata decided to buy for him (having heard the stories and been dating Munakata for long enough, he half expects a puzzle of his own face). 

When he sees the kit though he laughs, Munakata notes that as he was perhaps slightly responsible for the original airship crashing he thought he might buy Shiro a new one. Shiro says Munakata will have to help him put it together too, he’s never done these types of kits before and they’d actually probably have a pretty fun date of it, painting it and putting it together. Shiro jokes that it was thoughtful of Munakata to buy him a whole airship and Munakata just tells him to be careful with this one, if it crashes Munakata isn’t sure if he could find a new one.