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controld3vil · 5 months ago

Text

here we stand

pairing: jacerys velaryon x mormont!reader

synopsis: news had broken out that the throne has been usurped. jacerys rides his way to winterfell, the end to the north where he meets cregan stark. and in evidently, you, lady mormont of bear island.

notes: first of all, HE LOOKS SO GOOD w/ long hair !! also this mentions the first scene in s2 ep 1, i just tweeked a few things where now jacerys receives the terrible news days after getting acquitted in at winterfell. and bc i wished for more jace & cregan interaction >:( no beta reading btw !!

Duty is sacrifice.

All know of it. It bypasses any blood or foe. To honor one's duty is to sacrifice one's possessions. And oaths can last long over through generations. It is bypassing children and their children. It is the utmost fidelity any honorable man should know. If for the Seven Kingdoms and everyone at stake at what's beyond the Wall. A barrier that towers over seven hundred feet from what lies more gruesome than death.

Your cousin, Cregan Stark took up the responsibility as Lord of Winterfell, sometime after the passing of his father, Rickon Stark. He's a noble lad, he took upon the role at the age of six and ten. He was young but quickly learned how to command and serve the people. Much like his House's words, he understood what was coming. Though unexpected news of an envoy from Dragonstone had landed him in monetary consideration. Of what's to come with his men and the upcoming raging war.

"This is only late summer snow, my prince. In winter it will cover all you see and all memories of warmth will be forgotten." The metal chamber that brings them to the top of the Wall stops and both men walk out into the cold winter bridge. It's desolate and high in altitude.

Jacaerys could only imagine what it would feel like in wintertime, where there is nothing else but ice. "It pleases me that over a century ago our ancestors were treated in this very place. The Conqueror and the King in the North." His brown hair, inches longer, flutters past the cold air. Even with his blood, the descendant of the ferocious fire-breathing creatures, his heart still churns with a chill.

"You at least had the mercy not to threaten me with your dragon." The Lord of Winterfell smiles, eyeing the prince's reaction to the weather. No Southerner would know the true cold past summer.

The crowned prince returns his grin, looking out into the view beyond the Wall. From seven hundred feet above, everything, even the trees and people looked small. A wall that has been built this tall must offer security for what's beyond more terrifying than wildings and foes.

"While your men stand to protect against wildings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp my mother's throne. It is the duty of the Seven Kingdoms, and you, as Lord of Winterfell, to uphold your oaths sworn to the heir to the Iron Throne," Jacaerys gaze moves across where his eyes can take him off the Wall. It stretches out ridiculously long with men at every post. He has passed by a few to know whether or not, it was their obligation to join the Night's Watch, it was now their vow to protect this sacred place. However, he needed to remind Lord Stark of his reason for visiting. If the realm remained unbalanced, even Winterfell would not prosper.

"Starks do not forget our oaths, my prince," Cregan restates, with a look of sympathy and seriousness. "But you must know that my gaze will forever fall between the north and south. Here, in the winter, my duty to the Wall is more dire than what I ought in King's Landing. I need my men."

The prince of Dragonstone's look flickers, questionably. Until a holler from one of the watchmen signals Cregan of a visitor. He nods before glancing back at Jacaerys to dismiss him. A soft courtesy of his name before stepping down the post to greet the newcomer.

The cranks of the elevator come to a final stop. Before a pair of boots shuffle out of the old compartment to be met with the face of your cousin. Cregan's eyes meet yours in surprise and you subconsciously feel your shoulders untensed.

"Cousin,"

"Lady Mormont," He says with utmost respect as he can decipher the faint footsteps from behind Dragonstone's envoy. "What reason may you come to visit the Wall?"

"I received word that a messenger from Dragonstone came," Your bear fur coat holds you snug to protect you from the harsh winds. And your embroidered gloves, made from leather and deer fur have kept your fingers from freezing off during the trip to the edge of Winterfell. Your hands clasp together in an assertion. "Though I can already see he has arrived." Your soft stare transfigures onto Jacaerys and the sudden attention makes him slightly step aback.

Your lord gives you a playful look before turning back. "My prince, this is Lady Mormont of Bear Island. She is a close friend of mine and cousin." As embarrassed as the prince was, he could feel heat run up his spine as Jacaerys struggled to say anything welcoming.

"It is an honor to meet you, Lady Mormont,"

"The pleasure is mine," You blink innocently before addressing yet again your reason for presence. “Come, discuss matters over the fire,”

Eventually, a week has gone by with Jacaerys Velayron’s stay. His extended stay has left questions and concerns for the townsfolk. However, Cregan reassures them, replying to them in short curt responses. In all, he explains the prince should rest before riding back to Dragonstone as it was a few days' journey from the North. This brought no rejection from either party and allowed the two boys to catch up and take into consideration the risks.

You were always welcome at Winterfell. When you were little, your father, Lord Mormont, visited the black castle occasionally to meet with Lord Stark. The maids and servants knew you well as well as the Starks. They treated you like their own blood despite you being a distinct relative from a faraway island. Rare at times would they come to visit your home. Your homeland was not as welcoming as Winterfell some may say. Your House resided over lone shores, topped with horrific rock structures and charcoal reefs. A ruthless and barbaric landmark for the House of the Bear.

“I appreciate your hospitality, Lord Stark,” Jacaerys starts, holding his ale cup to drink as all of the other guests gather to feast for the night. The three of you alongside Cregan’s son, Rickon, were seated at the high table, enjoying the luxurious scene before you all.

Large condiments of meats, pastries, and wine for the people, nobles of the Northmen. Feasts were something that brought together everyone during harsh times. In times of violence or sorrow, it is the shared appreciation you all must endure to move forward. That is true of what the people of the North had that no other House had. The Velaryron prince gives you an appreciative smile. “And to you, Lady Mormont, I thank you for your sincere support of my mother’s claim.”

“Here we stand,” You raise your goblet, reciting your very House words. True to what it meant, your family stood prepared for what days would come to an end. You understood one day you have a place in something greater when the moment was right and here it was now, lying right in front of you. Mormonts are known to be willing to fight even when the odds are against them. So were you when you declared fealty to Cregan Stark, your dear cousin. Your loyalty towards him would only mean you would go to the ends of the Earth to fulfill your promise. “And here we fight for the queen.”

Despite not having Rhaenyra, her son knew she would be fond of you. Your attitude and strong integrity were something few held at King’s Landing. He acknowledged that people may not agree with his mother’s claim. However, there will always be those who still believe and support her. You are one of those people. Despite being hundreds of miles away from King’s Landing, Cregan and you showed fealty and loyalty to the oaths sworn nearly a decade ago. Some day, he wishes his mother would meet you.

“Of course,” Cregan begins, settling his cup down, before patting for his son to come towards him. “With the men we have, it is guaranteed they’d be ready to march the earliest as of the morrow” Rickon starts off his wooden seat and shuffles to his father’s lap. A clumsy stumble and the Lord of Winterfell picks up the child with ease with a soft smile. “From there, the men will march to King’s Landing.”

“Then I should leave by the morrow,” Rhaenyra’s son places his arms on the table.

Your heart skips a half second, knowing that the time you spent together would be short-lived eventually. The prince was sent as a messenger, nothing more. His stay was long overdue, though no word from Dragonstone has the eyes of the ravens yet. It sinks to you momentarily when you place the last piece of meat into your mouth and down the last drops of your ale.

“Yes, your visit has been short-lived,” Your cousin sighs, too aware of how the brief meeting would be over. Jacaerys was a good friend, being the same age as him, Cregan felt well acquainted with him. He had only wished that they had met under different circumstances and times. Perhaps when war wages on, they would meet again on the battlefield or after they have won against the Greens. Speculation of what was next was unknown. “But you have our support, my prince. Do not fret, we will prepare for what the Hightowers plan.”

Jacaerys nods, understandably. He turns to you who sweetly bobs your head in agreement. How delicate your features looked in the dim ambers of the Winter halls. He’s enamored by your presence with how often he gravitates towards your direction.

He had always assumed Northern women would be different from Southerners. They were different. Northerners were divine in their way. You excluded such poise and delicacy, Jacaerys sometimes couldn’t help but become curious of you. Your hobbies, what you liked to do, what was your favorite food, and your most desired ambitions. Southerners in King’s Landing were graceful and fragile like the summer breeze. However, you were like a chilly snow cast. The cold, it’s welcoming and he constantly feels chills running down his spine whenever your eyes meet.

“Now what do you think of the North?” Your lord light-heartedly brings up to lighten the mood. You and Cregan enjoyed the short mornings with the prince. The limited time you shared allowed for intimate discussions and a way to become acquainted with one another. The people, how things functioned, and how you adapted to the cold. It’s far much different than what he’s accustomed to in Dragonstone, where his home echoed through miles. Compared to the North, Winterfell was exceptionally enormous but had a sense of home and warmth.

“It’s different from Dragonstone,” The brown-haired envoy laughs, showing quite fond forever his home. “My home resides by the sea, surrounded by the high tides and rough shores. The castle is covered in obsidian stone and is known to be indestructible. My family has lived there for centuries now.”

“How fascinating,” Your cousin breathes, showing his teeth. “I’ve heard stories about Dragonstone. Some say you can find dragon eggs deep in the mountains.”

“That is true, our dragons reside in caves. They lay their eggs in crystallized magma. Our dragon masters look after the eggs and know when the time is right to harvest them.”

“What happens when a dragon egg doesn't hatch?” You lean your head forward, hands clasped together again. Learning about his family and their customs kept your interest for a long time. Not many Southern Houses come to visit from King’s Landing. They rather stay where it is warm and avoid the uncomfortable weather and travel to the North. Your eagerness was appreciated when Jacearys considered your question.

“We wouldn’t know for sure when they would or would not hatch. We simply wait it out.” He quirks a gentle smile when your gaze is sort of magnetic. It’s like you were in a trance every time he spoke of anything he was interested in.

“How long have you waited for one to hatch?” Cregan picks up his cup again to refill while his son pivots to run to the other side of the table, only to be greeted by you. With big smiles, you gladly carried the child to your side.

“A few years,” Jacearys remembers the day well. He remembers his brother Joffrey, struggling and whining to his mother about his egg. He was as young as four, however in the first three years of his life, his dragon had not hatched. It’s a mystery when the dragon decides to break out of its shell. He was fortunate with Vermax after months of being born, his companion was right beside him from the start. Lucerys had a similar reaction. Rhaenyra often told stories of many instances of good and bad hatchlings alongside their rider. Some may not have been awakened by its rider, for they might have been dead already. The unknown enigma of those ferocious beasts pales in the prince’s head.

“It must’ve been unpleasant,” You joked, hugging Rickon tightly, having his cheek meet with yours. The young boy giggles loudly, taking hold of both of your cheeks in excitement.

The atmosphere felt sublime and almost too perfect. Here in the warmth and formality of the Stark Household, everyone was lively and heeded no sorrows. How the prince wished upon the same for Dragonstone. If only the realm was brought together and the Hightowers had not usurped his mother’s throne despite her rightful claim. Would his family be united and happy finally?

He wasn’t sure as Jacaerys had never known familial love on his mother’s side. Both of his uncles vexed him, Luke and Joffrey. Helaena was kind, however, never showing malice towards him and his brothers. But the Hand of the King, and Queen Regent. Quiet in their schemes and distaste for bastards.

Affection is what fills the prince’s chest with glee. As he scans the dining room of men, women, and children, they all feast and brawl over pointless endeavors. The scent of mead and hot fresh meat fills the room with chaotic laughter and nonsensical bubbling. In another time and place, Jacaerys would have been thrilled to visit Winterfell during this time of year.

And his gaze slowly follows the wisp of your faint figure by the fireplace. With the heir of House Stark, you blow raspberry kisses against Rickon’s hot cheeks. As the boy squeals in delight, grabbing at the ends of your hair like ropes on the ship, bouncing them back and forth. You were good to Rickon, Jacaerys knows you care for the boy like it were your son. He thinks Cregan is grateful to have someone's endearment and protection toward his son. For the lack of a maternal figure had been long gone. You would be a great mother one day, he deciphers. You constantly fiddle Rickon’s hair which reminds him of his mother when he was little.

It was such a faint memory that stuck in his mind whenever he saw you with the children. Rhaenyra would question him if she were here. Mothers had a knack for spotting things such as things. The prince knew of his interest in you. However, would you do the same if he made them clear as day?

You never said anything to him. It makes him question if you were truly interested or not. You’ve shown fondness over meals and spoke of jokes whenever he came out to the stables, where his poor dragon, Vermax, gruntled in the snow.

“I’m sorry the farmers could not do much to help your dragon!” You shouted out one day in the early sunrise. He takes a few steps from his companion to find you in white fur coats and boots. You looked beautiful, the color suits you. As elegant and dainty as the pigment of his mother’s hair. Your locks were braided halfway with the rest, flowing down from your ears to your shoulders. “We don’t often have dragons visit us in the North!”

The prince laughs with small puffs of his breath becoming visible. “The stable boys did a fine job in accompanying Vermax.” At the call of his dragon’s name, it slowly hovers over his dragon rider. It purrs warmly in the frost as your eyes glower in fascination.

“He’s beautiful,” Your voice is nearly breathless at the size difference Vermax has over the buildings and people. It is a creature that comes far beyond your imagination and fairy tales. It's olive green scale prickle in delight as your eyes began to wonder back and forth. Dragons were rare in the North and it must’ve been a relentless recurrence for the people in King’s Landing.

The prince hums before kicking a chunk of frozen dirt. He makes an effort to be bold for once. “Would you like to pet him?”

You looked shook and it made him struggle to keep a composed posture. You stumble to make any words come out of your mouth. “I- May I?”

“Of course,” The dragon rider comes forward and grabs your hand, dragging himself closer to the beast. The sudden contact and closure make your heart beat faster than anticipated. As you find yourself glancing up at its reptilian eyes. In horror, you hold your ground, wanting nothing more than to back away. “It’s alright, he won’t hurt you.”

Jacery’s reassurance doesn't comfort you as you resist his grip on your wrist. Vermax merely stands, grumbling in curiosity as to your stricken presence. It’s trying to inquire about your anxiety when it was the reason for it in the first place.

Taking a short take of air, you stand in place. You did your best to calm your breathing, feeling a hand on your lower back to support you. Your dainty eyes meet the prince. And within contact, it felt as though you felt everything would be alright. His touch soothed your racing heart as you excelled forward, step by step closer to the beast. For you, it must’ve felt like the clock had slowed down when you were merely inches away from Vermax. Its enormous size was breathtaking and you could make your lungs free of oxygen again.

Yet your state of mind returns when the queen’s heir comes into view. The air felt a tension between fear and anxiety. It was both exhilarating and terrifying for someone who has never seen a dragon up close before. You took the last big step when you lifted your fingers above its nose.

Vermax shivered and at the last minute, you wanted to back out. Until Jacaerys hand envelopes over your hand to pet his companion. With such care and attentiveness, you should have realized the prince’s advances towards you by now.

The Godswood was a welcoming pastime you’ve grown to respect. With the decline in visits, you’ve come to value the historic tree for what it stood for and the ancestral value it had over your people. Cregan did not mind whenever you went away to pay your respects. He knew how important it was to you to respect the old gods and the new. War was coming. If you were going to support Rhaenyra, you only wish for your men to come out victorious.

You were no war-picking woman. But death was something you’ve come to accept recently. The passing of Rickon Stark brought a hole in your heart. You mourned in your ways, and so did Cregan when you had heard he had taken the mantle as Lord of Winterfell. He still is a young man, barely over six and ten. The best you could do was offer your presence and time. To him, being present with the people and acting lively was enough for him to regain his mind. Everyone looked up to Rickon for what he stood for and the House. There is no doubt Cregan would do the same in the coming time to King’s Landing.

“It’s saddening, isn’t it?” You breathe into the crisp air, only to feel your throat grow dry. But the person behind you knows you were referring to them. “How war affects us all.”

The prince of Dragonstone steps out from the shadows. His steps were slow and gruff, still worn out from the feast and the massive amount of ale that was offered to him. But you were the only thing that had piqued his interest. You were quiet, not expecting an answer from him. Until he stepped and stopped right beside you, shoulders nearly touching but inches apart. Your bear coat was held loosely on you as he recalled you too struggled to leave the dining table. You all drank too much tonight.

“The Godswood know of it all. They see everything,” The bear bronze sigil shines past his peripherals when he cannot meet your gaze. You were not drunk enough to do something reckless but not too sober to do anything either.

In return, all you could ever see was Jacaerys furrowed expression. He’s contemplating something. But you choose to stare and take in his features with such interest and curiosity. His soft and tranquil pout resembles much of a wolf you’ve seen. As though his curly strands, which you would imagine, are dim to the touch. The prince holds assertiveness in his duty, falling into the role of heir as for his queen. Perhaps he’s everything that his mother stood for. You admired it.

“Know you and your men's contributions would be known,” He whispers, it’s clear you could feel his breath close to your neck. The dark clouds could not even hide the indisputable truth. The crescent moon gleams somewhere in the far distance you can’t seem to find. But you know what’s true. Because moments ago, you could discern his distance inches away. Now it seems that he wants to close the gap by the second. “And that…”

“That we did our duties, nothing more.” You pant, unable to keep your eyes from moving from his gaze and lips. Strands of his dark brown hair trickle against your cheeks as you take one last glimpse at your prince. If any of this was acceptable. You wouldn’t exceed further to know he’d reject your proclaimed assumptions.

But nothing happens. It was as though the chill in the air had changed. When another figure reappears out of the shadows and into the light. Jacaerys distances himself from you. While you did your best to compose yourself for being caught red-handed by a servant boy.

“My Lady,” The innocent boy chants, as he holds up a scroll. “A message from Dragonstone.” Jacearys’s eyes shot up as you were given the letter. The moment you give the signal of approval, the servant boy leaves into the abyss and back into the cabin.

You unlatched the curly paper and patiently read its contents. The prince carefully awaits, every so longing to catch any misdemeanor you would have upon what letter had. He hopes and wishes it is good news more than anything. But you held a stone-cold expression and when you looked up at him, he could only discern sorrow with the words that come out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry, my prince.”

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oukabarsburgblr · 7 months ago

Note

honestly would love a continuation from the karasuno version, but like at the same time i want the seijoh version 😭😭

i cant choose huuu, tho whatever u decides to write im sure it'll be great (still tho karasuno continuation got me vv 🥴🥴)

Bullying the First Year Pt. 2 [ONESHOT] [HQ KARASUNO]

I'll give you both💜 but the seijoh part will probably take a few days since i dont want the seijoh ver. to be an exact replica of karasuno with diff names and i want to finish watching s2 so i can capture their character properly. I hope you enjoy!

FEATURING : DAICHI SAWAMURA, SUGAWARA KOUSHI, ASAHI AZUMANE x male reader

Continuation of Part 1! Set in Season 2 during Away Games. Drabble!

NSFW stuff, DUBCON AF

Find out more under the cut!

"Ne, Sugawara...Looks like you guys finally got along with (m/n) huh?"

The setter who was drinking from his water bottle turned to Tanaka. The second year glancing at the male manager who was being harassed by Hinata about how cool his spike was. Sugawara only tilted his head in innocent faux. "What do you mean?"

Tanaka hummed as he swirled his bottle. "Well...usually you guys have this weird tension. And Daichi doesn't talk to him but yesterday I saw the captain and (m/n) walking home together and they looked like they were fine." Ennoshita chipped in. "So I wasn't imagining it. Asahi seemed like he always tried to provoke (m/n), but now they're okay with each other. Did anything happen between you guys?"

Tanaka and Ennoshita only asked Sugawara because he was the most approachable out of all the third years. The second years have noticed the beef between their manager and the seniors although they only discussed it in secret. Currently, they're at their away training camp in Shinzen and everything was running smoothly, albeit their losing streak and the fact that (m/n) couldn't make it to their first training camp in Tokyo.

It was weird to think that (m/n), who was not even a player meaning he had more time to study, had failed two subjects and had to take the supplementary exam. Although he denied the offer of riding to Tokyo with Tanaka's sister with Kageyama and Hinata in tow. Daichi didn't give much of a response, only saying he would talk to the (h/c).

That same night they heard Kiyoko scolding, and the beautiful manager never gets mad, but oddly Kiyoko was reprimanding the rest of the third years. Although they couldn't quite capture why was she mad but apparently it involved luring and trapping someone?

Sugawara's face didn't falter as he waved off their concerns, assuring the second years that they had a minor misunderstanding at the start of their introduction and it was all settled.

Free practice ensued as Karasuno went on with their respective goals, Sugawara and Daichi doing a synchronization attack with the others although Asahi was nowhere to be found.

"Sorry! Got caught up with something." The ace sheepishly entered the gym, looking eager and fresh to hit some sets. Nishinoya glanced behind Asahi to see a panting (h/c) who was all sweaty. "What were you doing, (m/n)? You looked like you did a major workout!" He teased the manager who only scrunched up his nose and limped his way to the rest of the managers.

"Huh? Is he injured or something? Why is he walking like that-" "Don't mind him! The night isn't going to be young forever. Let's practice!" Sugawara cut off Nishinoya's sentence as he pushed the libero towards the court, his eyes flickering to Asahi getting smacked by Daichi.

"See (m/n)! Told you, you would get along with us!" Hinata cheered behind the (h/c), who didn't say a word as he accompanied Hinata to the third gymnasium, where Kuroo and Bokuto is playing as well as Akaashi and Tsukishima. "Although it seems that you're more close to the third years than I am. Even though I've known them longer..." The ginger mumbled as he twiddled his fingers.

Again, the manager didn't respond as they entered the gym and (m/n) helped them by collecting stray balls and tossing it to Akaashi. Tsukishima would glance at him a few times before getting lectured by the Nekoma captain.

Daichi stared at the gym doors where (m/n) had exited before turning to Asahi. "...I told you to go easy on him." "Sorry. Got a bit excited. He's cute these days, all fidgety around us." "Do you want to blow us over? Cover your tracks, you idiot." Sugawara hissed as he jammed his elbow into the ace's side.

"The others said that we look like we're all getting along, especially you Daichi." The setter spoke as he ignored the crestfallen ace on the floor. "Really? I didn't think there'd be that much of a difference." The captain tapped his chin, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"You were the meanest out of all of us. I guess he was scared of you the most." Asahi propped himself up as he spoke, ignoring the glaring ravenette.

"...he's obedient now. I prefer it that way."

The setter only laughed as he waved them off. "I'm getting dibs on him in the showers. Don't you dare try to join us." He hissed at the two before hopping off to drag Tanaka into another set, leaving Daichi and Asahi to themselves.

If any other normal person would have listened in on their conversation, they would've been creeped out with how normal they spoke as they danced around the topic.

The boy manager of Karasuno, (m/n) (l/n) who has been reduced to a quiet footman for the seniors. Daichi wouldn't say 'reduced' but more to 'tamed'. It was known that the (h/c) is a brash person, especially around people his age but he would watch his mouth more around his upperclassmen...until he gets angry that is.

When Daichi first saw him stumbling through the gym doors, making a scene, he was quite annoyed, reminded of Hinata and Kageyama's first introduction. He thought it would be another rude junior that would ignore him and the obligated seniority but he was impressed to find that he was a reliable manager and an overall pleasant person to be around.

Maybe he was in a bad mood on that specific day, but he wasn't up for playing 'nice' nor welcoming someone new. His players were already a handful, especially the four idiots and he simply lacked the energy to usher someone around in the already socially established club.

Usually, he would apologise the next day, saying his head was clouded but he saw how annoyed (e/c) leered at him whenever (m/n) thought he wasn't looking or the silent curses he would mumble. That ticked him off and he was cold ever since. And when he found out they were neighbours-

"Daichi. Don't you think you're being...malicious to the new manager?"

The captain turned to the long-haired ace. He didn't respond, only raising an eyebrow to Asahi. Sugawara cut in. "What he meant was why are you acting like a little bitch to our new member? Ignoring him and stuff. The others are starting to ask." He teased the ravenette.

Daichi didn't say much, he only stared at his gym shoes and glanced to the (h/c) who was conversing with the second years. He scanned his figure, his eyes wandering a bit too long on his face and frowned. "He's rude." Sugawara wanted to roll his eyes and spite the captain.

"I want to ruin him."

Both Asahi and Sugawara immediately turned their heads to the captain who held a nonchalant look, a foreign expression for him, while still staring at (m/n). "...Or to see him cry, at least." "..."

The setter scoffed. "I always knew you were a sadist, Daichi." The captain only hummed as he knelt down to tie his shoelaces. "Don't act as if you're oh so innocent, Mr. Refreshing." "Shut up." He stifled a chuckle and stood up again.

"So are we gonna do it?" Asahi turned to glance at the (h/c), gazing at his glistening (s/c) and his fluttering eyelashes on his (e/c) eyes. Sugawara rolled his eyes. "I think he already started it." Daichi was silent, his eyes unwavering.

He didn't think much of it back then. Bullying was always a functioning outlet anyways.

Slaps of skin resonated through the small clubroom with a crying naked manager who was too aroused from the heavy thrusts he was receiving. His back was sore against the wooden table in the middle of the room and his throat was parched from all the screaming and wailing he had done.

"You're so adorable, (m/n)." Asahi groaned into the manager's ears, holding him down and kissing down his neck. The (h/c) only squirmed against the strong brunette, helpless against his ticklish facial hair as his hips stuttered against Asahi's. "-'s too much-ngh! Too much fu- achkk!"

He choked as the brunette sped up his motion, increasing his tempo as he felt his release. "You're our junior and manager, (m/n)." Sugawara cooed as he jacked off the (h/c)'s dick. "This is practically your job, don't you think? Helping us release some steam."

(m/n) wailed as he felt Sugawara squeezing him, he shivered as he felt his hole filled and Asahi biting into his shoulder. His pants were getting heavier as he placed his hand across his face. "I-I don't want anymore..." He whimpered as fingers shoved into his ass, digging out liquids that were stuffed deep into him.

Daichi trailed his fingers over (m/n)'s neck as he took Asahi's spot, pulling the (h/c) closer by his waist. "Be good and we'll play nice with you." Partially a lie, the captain was talking about himself. If the manager was compliant, then he'll be gentle. Not that he hated the contrary.

The manager only cried into his hands as he shakily nodded, not that they could see. "Please b-be gentle to me...Daichi- hiks!" He wheezed as the captain pulled him onto his lap, his naked thighs shivering and Daichi only gripped his hair, already holding his favourite spot.

The captain didn't say anything, only crashing his lips on the (h/c)'s who mewled against his mouth, Sugawara and Asahi smearing their hands all over the pair, drowning them in debauchery and temporary bliss.

Ever since then, (m/n) had been more quiet and polite, especially around the third years. Hinata was confused when the (h/c) mentioned about a study group and at that moment something clicked inside the (h/c)'s head.

He tried avoiding the trio truthfully, it wasn't that hard outside of club hours but he dreaded stepping inside the gym or the clubroom. Sugawara was a clever person, always whisking him away to fuck him under a staircase or asking him to stay after practice and would double penetrate him with Asahi inside the storage room.

He would walk home with sticky cum running down his legs or being cleaned by Sugawara who would take his time with him inside the school communal showers. Asahi would only bother him when he was frustrated, either from studies or not being able to hit his spikes right.

Daichi wouldn't join on their frisky escapades. But Sugawara knew that the captain preferred to be alone with the (h/c).

Training camp was over, Coach Ukai finished the debriefing and everyone was dispersing to go home in their respective ways in the late night. (m/n) cursed to himself as he accidentaly slipped on a rock. A hand reached out to stabilise him and the (h/c) glanced to see the captain pulling him up.

"Be careful. It's dark and dangerous right now."

They did live close after all.

"...Thanks." (m/n) mumbled as he pulled his arm back, shoving his hands in his pockets as he continued his way. Daichi silently followed, two steps behind the (h/c).

Their relationship had progressed significantly, after...midterms. (m/n) didn't know what to call it. What he had with the other third years. And it was especially passionate with the captain.

(m/n) was sure his body would give out one day, or one of the second years would find out with how frequent they would pull him in an isolated area and was determined to make him cream his pants as much as he could. At first, he resisted and melted every time one of them would shove their deep fingers into his hole or fucked him nice and slow that would made all of his rebellion disappear.

Sometimes, he caught himself looking forward to those moments. Wondering when will one of his seniors pulled him so they could shove themselves into him, letting him drown in that sinful pleasure.

The grey area he was shoved into was suffocating and risky, but lust conquered all and it conquered him.

"Is anyone home?" (m/n) hadn't noticed that they had arrived at the front of his gates. He turned to see Daichi looking at him, the streetlamp next to them illuminating his handsome features. The captain rarely divulge himself with (m/n), not as frequent as the other two. The scariest of the third years definitely had something in his mind.

"..."

"Urmmff- mmng haa ah ah anghh!!" (m/n) moaned as he Daichi pounded his penis into the (h/c)'s hole that was so wet and puckered from the unnecessary amount of lube and fingering the captain did. He definitely appreciated foreplay.

Both of them were in (m/n)'s room, on his bed missionary and only the (h/c) was fully naked as Daichi immediately ripped off all of his clothings as soon as they stepped inside his room.

(m/n) wasn't sure why he let Daichi step in his house. His family was gone, visiting their relatives up north while (m/n) was away at training camp. He could've lied to the captain. Rejecting his advances although he wasn't sure it would be as effective but the fact that he willingly let Daichi enter through the gates of his home and let him follow to his room wasn't so much of a wonder.

Daichi huffed as he gripped one of (m/n)'s thighs, giving it a slap as he watch the flesh bounce from the impact. The (h/c) had his arms around the ravenette's neck as his legs was pushed upwards. His hole tightened around Daichi's cock as he cried when the captain began to shove himself in harder and deeper, going in as far as balls deep inside (m/n)'s puckered and reddened hole.

The captain gazed down at the (h/c)'s face, his eyes wandering and scanning his features as he felt his release nearing. "(m/n)." The manager huffed as his own (e/c) stared down black ones.

Daichi leaned down to kiss the (h/c), pressing his lips oddly in a gentle manner but pushing his legs to his shoulders roughly. "I think you should raise your tongue a bit more." The captain stated as he fucked the manager faster.

(m/n) stuck his tongue out with a confused face although his bottom was shaking from all the sex Daichi shoved into him. The ravenette licked and pressed his tongue all over (m/n)'s who was whimpering feverishly.

The (h/c) doesn't know what to do. What to do of him. What to do of them. But for now, all he could do was to play the nice little junior for them. He was also no longer allowed to show support for his cousin at any volleyball event.

Daichi pushed (m/n) into a mating press, making sure his cum filled the manager all the way in, not wanting for any of it to go to waste. The (h/c) whined as his own penis spurted white semen.

The manager could not see him running away from the third years any time soon.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

aftermath

I am literally falling asleep as I write this but I wanted to post it asap. I will fix it dwdw although I felt this didn't align with the first part very well. I'll add tags tmrw. Next up is Seijoh

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #x bottom male reader #x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu #male reader smut #male reader #smut #daichi sawamura #asahi azumane #sugawara koushi #oukabarsburg

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filbertt · 5 months ago

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art block sucks 😭 it takes me forever to just want to draw

no season 5 spoilers in this post (but pls do watch, u can watch the full season in eng sub on tiktok)

explanations for some of the drawings:

- mac going out of portal:

this mac is S2, S3 macaque. i wasn’t really sure what i was doing other than i wanted him to have a sleeveless top, but idk, what do yall think abt the fit?? the thing tied around his waist is also in fact his scarf (maybe he did this in some retaliation sort of way?)

- mac hold tiny monkie:

so i imagine like when macaque first got to flowerfruit island that he was very tense bc he’s not used to being around other lifeforms. like i imagine he never interacted with any lifeforms until he wandered around and stumbled onto the island and first met wukong. i like to think that the monkies rlly love mac cuz they sick and tired of wukong momming them around.

- mac with training staff:

i was gonna give him his like normal shadow staff when i realized that this is pre-jttw and he didn’t have particularly shadow powers yet (maybe, but most likely.) as opposed to the other pre-jttw drawing, he’s grown to be more confident and comfortable. in this drawing, he’s in the midst of a training battle with wukong.

MORE TO COME HOPEFULLY? maybe a comic? maybe another random sketchbook drawing? idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

#lmk macaque #lego monkie kid #lmk fanart #drawing #sketchbook #shadowpeach

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alien-bluez · 1 year ago

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raahhhh guh. another lineup, s2 kiddads. i love them so much they're rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken. god.

design notes for them under the cut if ur interested!

Grant

blue sweater bc blue is symbolic of titanic ep (something borrowed, something blue)

his tie color is the same color as Darryl's hat in my design

Wears Frank's watch that Darryl gave him, even if it's broken he doesn't take it off.

Green creeper socks because it's a Must. He wouldn't be Grant without them.

Sparrow

curly hair he got from mercedes' genes. he grew out his hair like lark

has a pink flower tucked in his hair like my henry's design

his jewelry and clothes are mostly borrowed from mercedes, he got really into crystals and other things like that growing up and got closer to his druid roots.

earrings are a feather and an oak leaf maybe i dunno i'll figure it out later lol

tattoos! there's supposed to be a bird outline there and other plant/nature related stuff on his arm. I'll draw it out better in the future mayhaps.

colors are brighter, more lifelike cuz he's closer to nature and all that jazz.

Lark

his hair has strands of white hair because of stress/trauma/Everything going on

hair is messier, unkempt because he cares less about appearances and doesn't have time anyways.

darker forest colors, less in tune with nature than sparrow.

his pants are the same color as my Henry's shorts :0) i needed a connection somewhere to his parents, and it just had to be henry.

Terry Jr.

purple shirt because his color is purple to me

fish motifs!! everywhere! i hc that when he and ron get closer bonding thru fishing they'd get each other fun fish printed shirts or something. This was Ron's gift to Terry. The colors of the fish are color picked from my Ron's design.

Fish tail tie and the shirt is also split like a fish tail maybe.

he's the tallest of the kiddads forever and always

Nicky

he wears glenn's sunglasses on his head

he grew out his hair long like morgan's because it's like the one thing he still really has of her. has her hair type and he takes very good care of his hair.

still has the ripped leather jacket from his time as nick and various patches of bands he likes (didn't want to draw them out yet.)

blue shirt because of his time as nicholas/reminder of jodie. blue holster belt and pants are also blue for jodie association

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dungeons and daddies fanart #dndads fanart #dndads season 2 #grant wilson #sparrow oak #lark oak #terry jr #nicky foster #kiddads #i love them all so dearly #i have so many thoughts and more things i wanna incorporate in their designs later on #nicky is my fave tho i'm so biased #ehehe i will draw more of them sometime

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ghouldump · 4 months ago

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I love how you write for Lestat!!!! PLEASE NEVER STOP ❤️❤️❤️

Thicker Than Water | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ you should have known better than to entertain someone who would bring up the idea of leaving your husband and daughter.

lol, thank you, rewatching s1, after seeing s2, he is so toxic 😭 but so passionate and caring about everything he does, and lestat and claudia are so much alike so i thought of this

Motherhood. One of the biggest blessings this life could bring forth. You were unfortunate, turned before you were given the opportunity to bring creation into the world. Lestat always managed to keep your relationship alive, not allowing the chance to think about it, but there were times.

Those late nights, hunting for your next meal like an animal, you’d see mothers, holding the hands of their sons and daughters. Staring for a moment, you could feel your heart, which hadn't beat in years, break. Then Claudia came along, or you came to her, saving her, pleading that Lestat turned her.

He warned that she would be a mistake, forced into the body of a child forever. While you understood him, you couldn't think rationally at the moment. A child needed to be saved and you weren't letting up, begging him, before he finally gave in.

Claudia was turned and quickly became the apple of your eyes. A mother, you had become a mother overnight and you loved her as if you'd birthed her. Her relationship with Lestat always seemed strained, the two constantly bumping heads. You found it adorable at times, they couldn't see how much they were similar, with Lestat’s blood in her veins, she was his daughter through and through.

Your baby, she was, although you may have spoiled her too much. As she grew older, wanting more than other preteen girls, the guilt began to sink in. Your baby, yet instead of taking her to a hospital that night, you forced her into becoming what you were.

“Hey,” you smiled as the front door opened, Lestat walking in. Claudia sat in a chair, while you stood behind her, carefully brushing her hair.

“Hey,” Lestat said in a weird tone, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“He’s such a dick,” Claudia said, crossing her arms.

Staring at the stairs for a second, letting his tone process, as he disappeared upstairs. Putting on your best fake smile, you changed the subject, letting Claudia talk about the current boy she had a crush on.

Your relationship, recently, had been distant. At times it was about things you felt you should no longer do, inviting people into your home, your sex life, threesomes, and orgies. You didn't want to expose Claudia to those things. Then came discipline, you never corrected her, at least not like Lestat. You were gentle with her, always, never raising your voice, and making excuses for her. It was beginning to cause a rift in your marriage.

Braiding the soft curly hair into pigtails, you sent her off to her room, the sun would be rising soon enough. Going to your bedroom, you were surprised to see Lestat already in his coffin.

“Honey, is everything alright?” you asked. One of the essential rules of your union was never to go to bed angry at the other.

“I am fine,” he said with a huff, as he opened the coffin.

“I don't like when you talk like that in front of Claudia,” you told him, watching as he rolled his eyes.

“Claudia does a lot of things I don't like, and I don't complain”

“Yes, you do, to her face and me, she's a child-

“She is not a child, she’ll be 19 in four months. She's a brat who whines to get her way, and every time, you give it to her,” he said, making you scoff.

“Sorry for being a mother to our daughter, even if you don't like her,” you told him, getting into your coffin.

“Y/n,” he called out, his voice full of sympathy.

“Just leave me alone, I'm tired,” you said, closing your eyes to fall asleep.

As night fell upon the sky, you opened your coffin, going straight to the closet, picking an outfit. You could hear Lestat standing up, but you didn’t dare to face him. His eyes set on you as you changed, slipping into the form fitting dress.

“Ma chèrie, I want to apologize for the way that I spoke to you-

“It’s fine,” you told him, adjusting the pantyhose, before stepping into the heels.

“Where are you going?” he asked with a smile, he was still bare, while you had already dressed, and were walking out of the room.

“Out,” you said, nonchalantly.

Leaving out of the room, you saw Claudia come out of her room, looking at you as you passed.

“Are we going hunting?”

“No, I have a few things to do,” you told her.

“Can I come?”

“No Claudia, I have to go alone, see if Lestat will take you”

“But-

“Or go alone, it doesn't matter,” you told her, walking away. You knew you'd probably hurt her feelings, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You couldn't care about anything right now.

You needed a break from both of them. Lestat is such a dick, Claudia is a brat, He wants you all to himself, She is trying to take you from me, it was an endless cycle of them bickering against each other - leaving you to try to be a mediator.

“What did you do, asshole?” you could hear Claudia scream at him.

“Shut up, you insolent brat,” he told her, as you left out of the front door.

Walking through the streets, you attempted to clear your mind. Claudia could be heard, talking, asking if you were alright. If you wanted to leave Lestat for good, but you ignored her. Entering the crowded bar, you tuned out her voice, choosing to focus on the jazz music played by the band.

Sitting at an empty table, you sighed, enjoying the comfort the harmony brought to your sanity.

“Mind if I sit here?” you heard, making you look up, gasping immediately.

“George,” you smiled, your eyes traveling from head to toe, examining the army uniform.

“I thought it was you I saw, I had to be sure,” he laughed, pulling you into a firm hug.

“What are you doing here? I thought-

“I’m only home for a few days, then I'm going overseas,” he said. Truth be told, you weren't paying attention to much he was saying, focused on his Adam’s apple.

“Please, sit, it has been forever,” you smiled, as he sat next to you.

George was a childhood friend, while not exactly your first love, he was your first for other things. You remembered your last time with him, he had been drafted and was being sent away to the military. He was only 18, when he left, that night being over a decade ago.

“You still look as beautiful as you did back then,” he told you.

“I know,” you smirked. You could hear his thoughts, sex clouded his brain, his eyes full of lust.

Leaning close to him, tilting your head, you slowly pressed your lips into his. You and Lestat both had your fair share of fulfilled fantasies, but this was different. Something on your own, the stress relief you needed from the problems in your life.

“You want to come back to my place?” he asked you.

“Lead the way,” you told him, biting your lip, as he stood, walking you to his car.

During the drive, he caught you up on his life and how he managed to rank up within the service. The loss of his parents, inheriting their house while he was away. He went on about how he was getting older and needed to start looking for a wife.

“What about you?” he finally asked as he parked in front of the house.

It wasn't nearly as extravagant as you had become accustomed to, living with Lestat, but it was perfect for a normal, small, but growing family.

“What about me?”

“Your life? How has it been these last few years?” he asked as you followed him, and he unlocked the door, letting you in.

“Well, I'm married and I have a daughter,” you said, chuckling as his eyes widened.

“You probably should've told me that before I took you to my house,” he told you, as you went to the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“It's complicated”

“Then talk to me, you know you can trust me, sweets,” he said, you couldn't help but smile at the old nickname.

“My daughter, she's…adopted, but that doesn't change a thing, she's mine. She and my husband, are always bumping heads, they are so similar and so stubborn. Their relationship is causing a rift, I just need a break from both of them,” you shook your head.

“You sound stressed out, sweets,” George said, reaching for your hand.

“I am,” you nodded.

“Maybe I can help you?” he said, as you looked at his hand, the way his thumb brushed against your skin.

“Yeah?” you smirked at him, as he pulled you onto his lap.

“You don't think she’ll leave us, do you?” Claudia asked her father. They sat in the car, a good distance from the house.

The two of them were worried about you, and while they argued at first, they quickly got it together and chose to follow you. Full of jealousy, it took everything in them to not kill the man the moment he joined your table.

You, despite also having Lestat’s blood, weren't like them. You weren't so quick to kill, hunting rodents before you’d choose to drain a person to death, always trying to bring comfort to the two of them. You held onto human traditions while embracing immortality. From convincing them to partake in family portraits to bonding with the two of them in the living room. They loved you greatly, so much that they'd put up with each other.

“You know this is your fault, she asked you to stop messing with that hussy, and you wouldn't,” Claudia spat at her father.

Lestat could hardly listen, his shaken hand going to his mouth. He could hear undoubtedly, what you were doing, what the two of you were doing. This was different than a threesome or orgy with people that meant nothing to the two of you. They'd usually end up drained or glamoured before the night was over. But this, my god, was different, Lestat felt the lust that you felt for this man, that you knew, and that made him sick to his core.

“You went to see her again?” you crossed your eyes, leaning against the doorpost, as he entered the house.

“She is no competition, ma chérie, it is you, who have my heart,” he told you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I thought we decided to put all of this stuff behind us”

“You did when you decided you wanted to become a mother,” he said, a gleam of disgust in his eyes, briefly staring at Claudia, as he went upstairs.

This was his fault, he had caused the wedge between the two of you, and he had to be the one to fix it. A bloody tear slipped out his eye, while he moved his hair out of his face.

“She won’t leave us,” he told his daughter, as he started the car, driving past the house.

“I have to go,” you told George, straddling his waist, in his bed.

“You don't have to leave,” he told you, his hand caressing your back.

“I do,” you laughed.

“Your family, you can leave them, start over with me, get married, and we’ll make a daughter of our own”

“Those things are easier said than done, I couldn't up and leave them, they need me as much as I need them,” you said, pulling away, to get dressed.

“I didn't mean to offend you, sweets,” he apologized.

“It's okay, really, I just need to get back home, the sun will be up soon enough,” you shook your head.

“Well I can drop you off-

“No need, you don't live too far from my house”

“Can I see you again, tomorrow?”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, before leaving his house, walking home.

Entering the house, you were surprised by how quiet it was, abnormally quiet. Going upstairs, you peeked in Claudia’s room. Everything was neatly organized, with her coffin in the middle of the room, closed. Smiling lightly, you shut the door, before moving to your shared bedroom. Lestat was already away in his coffin, while yours was still open.

Stripping from your clothing, you felt a weight lifted from your shoulders. The previous tense stress that was there before, was gone. Climbing into your coffin, you looked over at Lestat’s before shutting your own.

“Good night,” you said lowly, before falling asleep.

Sleeping throughout the day, as night approached, you felt an uneasy sensation in your stomach. Unable to move, you felt restricted, when suddenly, your Achilles’ heel was sliced. Your eyes finally opened, widening seeing Claudia stand, a small blade in her hand. Staring into her piercing eyes, she held a deep frown, before going to Lestat’s side.

Your mouth was taped, and your body was wrapped in chains, you felt weak and confused. Immediately, you looked to Lestat, whose back was turned to you, before he turned to face you, moving to reveal the surprise.

George sat tied in front of you, tape on his mouth, his face already bruising. George looked at you, before screaming at Lestat, who frowned at him.

“Pathetic,” he said before his eyes went to you. You could see the blood stains on his face that he had been crying.

“Ma chérie, you hurt me badly, both of us,” he told you, before ripping the tape from your mouth.

“What are you talking about? How is this different from you going to see her?” you asked him.

“That was different and you know it, I heard you, I could feel your passion for him,” he screamed at you, tears pouring out.

“No one told you to follow me”

“No, but he will pay, for thinking he was worthy to have you, and for trying to break our family apart,” he said, as he moved to George, using his nail to cut his face.

“Claudia, let me out of this, I need to heal,” you hold her, but she turns her head, the bloody tears leaking from her eyes.

“He wants to take you from us, mama, and give you a new daughter, I know we had our problems, but I never thought that you would want to leave,” she said, crossing her arms.

“I don't, I told him I didn't, I love you both, I’ve been overwhelmed with stress, and I wanted relief, but that's it, not to leave you, either of you,” you told him. George continued struggling to speak. Claudia rolled her eyes, ripping the tape from his mouth, making him yelp.

“It’s true, she said she needs you both, as much as you need her,” George said, making the two look at you.

“Ma chérie-

“Mama-

The two spoke at the same time, making their way in front of you, and wrapping their arms around you.

“I’m sorry for how I've acted, I don't want you to find pleasure anywhere else, just hours with you in the arms of another, feels like death all over,” Lestat told you.

“And I don't want to lose you as my mama, I’ll be better,” Claudia said, her voice cracking. You found both of their confessions heart-touching, becoming emotional.

“You both are perfect the way you are, we should've communicated better as a family,” you told him, as they both agreed.

Standing tall, you watched as Claudia grabbed the bolt cutters, breaking the chains from around you. Lestat helped you stand, holding your waist, as you leaned on him.

“We had to be sure you wouldn't break free if you were leaving with him, sorry, mama,” she said, glancing at your feet.

“It's alright”

“Y/n, help me,” George pleaded with you.

“Your meal, ma chérie,” Lestat eyed him.

“We know you prefer hunting your rodents, which is why we brought the meal to you, as we celebrate,” Claudia said.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Our companionship,” Lestat smirked.

“Our family will be stronger than ever, after this,” Claudia told you.

Looking at George, he was confused and scared. Baring your teeth, you limped over to him.

“Don't worry about the mess, we will clean up,” Claudia said.

“Y/n, what are you-

Covering his mouth, you sank your teeth into his neck, climbing into his lap. Your eyes shut, as you took pleasure in the rarity, the blood dripping from your chin.

“Y/n, please,” George begged, his eyes slightly rolling back.

“Join me,” you told Claudia, smiling as she rushed over, biting his wrist. Looking at Lestat, he was more hesitant, approaching as you held out your hand. Intertwining your fingers, he leaned down, kissing your lips. The blood smeared on his mouth before he attacked the other side of George’s neck.

Leaning against the brick wall, you watched as Lestat and Claudia burned the body. Your arms wrapped around your body, as you watched them interact. They calmly conversed with each other, before they turned, walking towards you.

“And so who was right in the end?” You could hear Lestat talking.

“You were”

“Correct”

“What was he correct about?” you asked Claudia, smiling at the two.

“Blood is thicker than water,” she said, as he pat her head in approval. All you could think of us was how close they seemed.

“It's cause we're a family, mama, we have our problems but we are meant to all be together,” she giggled, as she heard your thoughts.

“You're right, I love you, both of you,” you told them, accepting Lestat’s kiss, before kissing Claudia’s forehead.

“We still have a few hours before sunrise, should we go for a nice drive?” you asked him.

“Sounds perfect,” Lestat said, watching as you turned, going into the house.

“You did well,” he told Claudia.

“I learned from the best,” she said, as they shared a secretive handshake, going inside, pleased, knowing that together they were able to fix the problems in their family.

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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formyloveoflove · 5 months ago

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The Bear S3 and the Choices We Make

Ok. After a second watch of S3, I'm feeling a little bit more optimistic about the future. Trust - it's a sad ending. It's my worst nightmare for Sydney. But there's still hope, and that all lies in what Carmen and Syd decide to do next. Season 3 Spoilers - read at your own risk :)

In S3 E10 Forever, we see our two mains go through a breakthrough. Starting with Carmen, he finally confronts his former boss (who has a name, i think, but fuck him, I ain't using it). It's the first (and only time) that we see Carmen proactively voice his resentment. He avoids his mom (rightfully so imo). He never got the chance with Mikey. But he approaches him, expects the man to have repent (maybe), or at the very least, have a little remorse.

He doesn't. He regrets nothing. In fact, he takes credit for Carmen's success: his hard work, his skills, and his talent. He tells Carmen that he should be thanking him, and that's not even the worst of it. No, for me, it is when he says

Carmen: My life stopped. Chef: That's the point, right? [...] You wanted to be great. You wanted to be excellent. So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent. It worked. You're here. Look at all this

Sound familiar? It should. It's the same sentiment that Carmen said in the Season 2 finale. Remember, he said,

I wasn't here. Right? What the fuck was I thinking? Like I was going to be in a relationship? I'm a fuckin' pyscho. That's why I'm good at what I do. That's how I operate. I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could focus, and I could concentrate.

Carmen's thoughts about himself aren't even his own. They were drilled into him by a man who wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. He was emulating the abusive behaviors and patterns that crushed him, that gave him "uclers, panic attacks, and nightmares" on the people that he cares about. On his sister, on Richie, on Tina and Marcus. and especially on Sydney, who is the only one who knows exactly how bad it can get. He's hurt those closest to him. He hurts them daily. And for what? And for why? For his own ego.

And this realization leads us to Carmen's first cry.

For three whole seasons, we see this man lose his idolized brother to suicide, witness his alcoholic mother physically, emotionally, and mentally abuse him, and experience mental degradation to the point where it affects his physical health. Not once did he shed a tear. This is the first time Carmen Berzatto lets himself cry. And I think this is the best thing for him. If he chooses to acknowledge the err of his ways, turn back course, and begin again, I think The Bear could be what he wanted it to be. He needs to decide to stop running, stop fighting himself and everybody around him. He needs to let go. Let it rip, right?

However, if this is what he decides to do, the cards ultimately fall into Sydney's hands.

If anybody's been through hell and back, it's Ms. Sydney Adamu. All season she's been forced to work in a volatile environment, putting herself between Carmen and whoever's the victim of his anger. She has her ideas shut down, her skills demeaned, and her credit is outright non-existent. Staff keeps quitting; they're not making any money; and Cicero and Co. is doing some shady background shit.

She's trapped, but not really. Not until she signs that Partnership Agreement. But like she told her dad in S2 E9 Omelette, she doesn't think she has another one in her. She can't have The Bear fail like Sheridan Road. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes she did last time. She wants to grow and learn and make her mark on the industry - prove she's not a failure.

She's waiting for Carmen to make good on his promises from The Table Scene, but he's not.

"You deserve my full focus." But his focus is not on her. Remember the Carmen that noticed when something was off with her? Remember the "say more?" or the "what's up with you?" Remember when they worked together, when the menu was truly theirs? Where was Sydney's "margin" moment? What did Carmen do this scene that signaled to Sydney that he was there and present.

"I couldn't do this without you." He does everything without her. Don't even get me started. From the menu to the list of nonnegotiables. Syd gets to make no decisions after being forced to make ALL the decisions. What is she there for? To be Carm's wrangler, his doormat? What has he does to convince her that she is invaluable?

He's egotistical. He's verbally abusive. He's the exact person that she warned him not to be. That he assured her that he wouldn't be in S1 E3 Brigade. She said,

You know I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different. [...] But you just didn't really listen, and if this is going to work the way I think we both want it to work, I think we should probably try to listen to each other. The reason why I'm here, and not somewhere else or for someone else, is because I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don’t wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don’t care about.

He didn't follow through the first time, so she left. But now, it's different. She's put her blood, sweat, and tears into this place. She's made a place (a home even) at The Bear. Leaving is not as simple anymore.

S1 Syd would've taken that CDC offer in a heartbeat. But building something and it failing (like The Bear. like Sheridan Road.) is terrifying. Slowly but surely, Carmen has been chipping away at her confidence and her fire. So much so that good things, like The Offer or the review of her risotto from The Beef, don't feel like good things.

Sydney's Panic Attack is HUGE for her character. We see Sydney at her lowest: her most frightening and vulnerable. She's uncertain. She's in a constant state of panic. And the person that she trusted with her fears and insecurities facilitated this, drove her to this point. It's heartbreaking. I cried when I saw it. No one would blame her for jumping ship. At this point, I encourage it (but she has to talk about it, acknowledge it. no running).

Now, if Carmen decides to change his ways, he'd have apologized to Sydney twice without changed actions. She'd have to believe him after many, many broken promises. At this time, she doesn't trust him, can't rely on him. But when having to decide between staying or going, will she try to trust him again?

Will she? Should she?

That's where I'm at so far. I have more thoughts, but I'll write those out when I get back from my weekend trip.

#the bear #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmen berzatto #the bear season 3 #the bear gifs #the bear spoilers #the bear meta #sydcarmy

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 2 months ago

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Another common way in which I think criticism of OFMD can fall apart is when people don't take the show at its word about what genres it's trying to inhabit.

This was one of the most annoying aspects of the few negative pre-release OFMD reviews, for me. Like I said, the vast majority let us know that we were in for a wonderful treat, but there were a few that complained that it took forever for "plot" to happen, and this is just such a bizarre criticism for me because I find it so hard to believe that someone who professionally reviews media could have so much trouble figuring out what the "plot" of a show is supposed to be.

But then this criticism just kept popping up, and it still makes me roll my eyes. Post-s2, in some Izzy fan circles there's been an argument that Izzy is a more important character than he actually is because "the plot only happens when he's around." And where these analyses fall short, I think, is that they fail to consider that OFMD has always been a character-driven show, not an action-driven one.

There's a difference between the main plot of a show and things that happen in that show. OFMD is a romantic comedy, it exists to tell us a story of Ed and Stede's romance. It plays with the romcom format, and a lot of the humor in the show comes from juxtaposing this with piracy as a backdrop. But piracy is not what OFMD is about; it's about a romance that happens to take place within piracy as a setting. Complaining that there's not enough action in OFMD is like watching Black Sails and getting mad about its overly-serious tone - that's a feature, not a bug.

If you expect OFMD to look like an action-driven story, there's really not a lot that happens, and you'll be disappointed by how seemingly jerky and slowly the "plot" moves. But it's actually a character-driven story, and if you watch for the main characters and the development of their stories, it's a very smooth ride. Bigger background elements, like Chauncey and the Act of Grace and Ricky's attack on the Republic of Pirates, are not meant to be a focus, they're meant to force Ed and Stede into situations that will reveal more about their characters and move their arcs along.

And I can't help but wonder if this criticism of OFMD is so common because people just don't expect a queer romcom to actually be a queer romcom. We're so used to stories where even queer main characters' romance has to take a backseat or only be hinted at. OFMD stands out because the romance actually is the point, and some people, I think, for whatever reason, just can't believe that.

#ofmd #our flag means death #pccp's stuff

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criticallyinneedofadar · 2 months ago

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Alliance of Shadows (2)

A/N: Thank you for all the love! I'm super excited for this series to really get moving. Side note- this series becomes non canon compliant starting from S2 Ep 7

Pairing: Adar x Reader

Word Count: 1597

Warnings: None

Previous - Next

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

There is a sense of unease in your halls tonight. Your apprentices look on with distrust as Adar and his companions are escorted through the halls. The orcs- or Uruk as Adar had informed you- look similarly uncomfortable. They are not as frightening as you had been led to believe. A touch smelly perhaps, but not the vile monsters that the elves had made them out to be.

When you reach the dining hall, Adar’s companions are urged to stand guard at the door, one taking their place and the other staying close behind their leader. Lanterns flicker with pale blue flames, casting ghostly shadows that dance along the ancient stone walls. You sit at the head of the table, regal and composed, your eyes fixed on Adar as he takes his seat opposite you, his guard standing just to the right of his shoulder. Between you, the air is thick with tension, both of you aware that this meal is a prelude to something far greater.

Your staff moves silently, placing before you a spread of dishes made from the mountain’s wild game, herbs, and roots. The scent of roasted venison and spiced wine fills the room, but neither of you pays much attention to the food. Your focus is on each other, on the words left unsaid.

He watches you carefully, his eyes dark and calculating, but you feel the wariness in him. Despite his confidence, there is something else lurking behind it—a quiet unease. He has heard of your power, of course. He must wonder if the rumors are true.

After a moment, you break the silence, your voice smooth, yet edged with an air of authority. "You have come seeking my aid, Adar, but tell me—why should I risk my people for your cause? We have lived safely in these mountains, untouched by the wars of the world below. Why should we leave the sanctuary of this place for a conflict that does not concern us?"

Adar doesn’t respond immediately. He picks up his goblet, taking a measured sip of the wine, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your people are safe for now," he says, his voice low, steady. "But safety is fleeting. The world is changing, and those who hide will eventually be found. You may think the mountains protect you, but they cannot shield you forever."

You smile faintly, swirling the wine in your goblet. His words are not new to you; others have tried to convince you of the same before. But Adar is different. He does not plead. He does not beg. He speaks as though his vision is inevitable.

"And you believe you are the answer?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "You, who seeks to build a new world from the ashes of the old one?"

Adar’s jaw tightens, but he remains composed. "I offer you more than just survival. I offer you a place in that new world, as equals. Your people, my children—together, we can create something stronger than what the elves, the men, or the dwarves have ever known."

As he speaks, you decide to test him. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you let your power unfurl. The shadows in the room deepen, shifting unnaturally, stretching toward him. The blue flames in the lanterns flicker and dim as though a sudden wind has swept through, though the air remains still. The wine in his goblet ripples, the surface trembling with a quiet force.

Adar notices, his eyes flicking to the shadows moving across the walls, to the subtle warping of reality around him. You sense the flicker of fear that passes through him—a crack in his stoic mask. His fingers tense around the goblet, knuckles white as he realizes that this is no simple trick. You are not like the other sorcerers he has encountered. Your power does not command the elements, nor bend them; it reshapes the world itself.

"You play dangerous games," he says, his voice low, but there is a bite to it now, a threat simmering beneath the surface. He brings his hand, covered in that fearsome gauntlet, to wipe a drop of wine from the corner of his pale lips. "Whatever magic you wield, do not think to use it against me. If you try to sway my mind or bend my will, I will kill you where you stand."

At his words, your apprentices go to step forward, but you wave a hand, dismissing their caution. You study him for a long moment, the corner of your mouth curving into a smile. His vitriol amuses you, though you do not dismiss the threat he poses. There is truth in his words—Adar is not a man to be taken lightly. But you have lived long enough to know when a creature is cornered, lashing out in the face of power it cannot control. You pause for a moment, there is true fear hidden there somewhere. A pain, likely from his time in Sauron's grip, that has not yet healed. It softens you somewhat.

"Bold," you say softly, leaning forward, your gaze locked on his. "Very bold to threaten a spider in her own den."

The shadows retreat, releasing their grip on the room as if you had never commanded them. The flames return to their steady flicker, and the tension in the air eases, though the power still hums quietly beneath your skin. You watch him carefully, noting how he straightens in his chair, regaining a sense of control, though the fear remains, simmering just beneath the surface.

Adar’s expression hardens, but you see the careful calculation in his eyes. He may not trust you, but he knows that his survival—his vision—depends on your aid. Whatever power he commands, it is not enough on its own. He needs you. And that is what gives you the upper hand.

"You seek to build a kingdom from the ruins of the world," you say, your voice regaining its steady, regal tone. "But kingdoms are built on more than just promises of power. What guarantee do I have that my people will not be sacrificed for your ambition?"

Adar takes a deep breath, composing himself before answering. "You will have more than a promise. You will have a place in this new world, not as pawns, but as equals. I am not Galadriel, offering hollow alliances. I seek something greater—a world where those cast aside by the light can thrive."

You study him for a long moment, considering the weight of his words. There is truth in them, and you cannot deny the appeal of what he offers. But you are not one to act out of impulse. You need more than promises.

"You say we will be equals," you say, your voice softening but holding a dangerous edge. "Prove it."

Adar frowns, unsure of your meaning, but you hold his gaze, unblinking. Then, slowly, his eyes widen with realization. He reaches into his cloak and pulls something from within—a small, glimmering object that catches the dim light.

A ring.

Not just any ring, but one unmistakably elven. Delicate vines and etchings cover its silver band, and you recognize the craftsmanship at once—Celebrimbor's. The magic that pulses from it is ancient, powerful, and undeniably alluring.

Adar places it on the table between you, his dark eyes never leaving yours. "Galadriel sought to use it to subdue Sauron. In her foolishness, it has come to me. This ring, her ring, would be yours. A symbol of my defiance... and of our potential."

You lean forward, your fingers hovering over the ring, but you do not touch it. Instead, you look at Adar, studying him once more. He has offered you the heart of his defiance, a symbol of the very world he seeks to tear down. In that moment, you realize that he may not be bluffing. He is willing to cast aside the light entirely—and he wants you to join him in the darkness.

You withdraw your hand and sit back, the faintest smile on your lips. "I will admit to being intrigued by your proposal, Adar, if your vision is worth the risk. But know this—if you ever attempt to sway me with tricks or force my hand, the spider will strike back."

Adar’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening on the goblet once more, but he nods. "I would expect nothing less."

You raise your glass in a silent toast, your gaze locked with his. “I would ask for three days to make my decision. War is not an undertaking to decide on rashly. I will speak with my council and give you my decision. In the meantime, you are welcome to explore the royal quarters. Unfortunately, I cannot allow you unrestricted access to our home- you understand?”

He nods in acquiescence, “I accept the conditions. Though I would urge haste, Sauron’s power can only grow the longer he sits in Eregion.”

You stand from your place, Adar rising as you do. “My staff will show you to rooms where you may take your rest. Should you require anything, please send for me.” Your eyes roam over him once more, tall and proud. His dark eyes lock with yours, and there it is again, that tremble of connection. For a moment, it makes you sway where you stand, and you quickly mask it by reaching for your goblet of wine. The slightest smirk on his handsome face is the only indication that he may have caught your slip.

As you take one last sip of wine, the taste sharp and rich, you feel the weight of the future settling over you. A new world is on the horizon, and you will either help shape it—or destroy it.

The choice, it seems, is now yours.

#adar series #adar #adar x you #adar x reader #adar x oc #adar fanfic #rings of power s2 #adar rings of power #alliance of shadows

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sleepsunawareof · 1 year ago

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Well like many, the Loki S2 finale has me still reeling and I have had this little drabble on my brain and had to get it out. I am not really a writer, I've not written a fic since I was a teenager probably lol so be easy on me but alas, I hope this is enjoyed by those who also just couldn't bear the thought of Loki being alone at the end of time forever.

Description: Loki uses his time slipping abilities to talk to you one last time before making the decision he knows he has to in order to save those he loves. But, you aren't so willing to let him condemn himself to an eternity alone, or yourself to a lifetime without him.

Word Count: 1367

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT SEEN LOKI S2 EP6!! Angst, sadness, happy ending mostly

••••••••••••••

"How are you doing this?", you asked as you watched strands of space and time float around you and Loki throughout A.D Doug's workshop.

"We're outside of time. Darling, I had to see you. I had to speak to you." Loki said, a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. "The Loom, it was a failsafe all along. And no amount of scaling can account for infinite timelines. I thought we had it, I really did", he explained.

"Damnit, we should have known it would be...", you lamented.

"I spent centuries trying to figure it out, and it was all for nothing."

"Centuries?" you questioned.

"It's hard to explain" he responded. "Darling, there are only two options. Go back and kill Sylvie before she kills He Who Remains and allow the Sacred Timeline to continue--"

You cut him off. "You can't Loki! The Sacred Timeline is full of misery, injustice, and sadness - what the TVA stood for under He Who Remains was all wrong! We can't go back to that. And you know you could never kill Sylvie...not after everything we have all been through together."

"I know...", he said, a sad knowing in his voice and his eyes. "But there is one other way."

"And what's that?"

"Me".

"What? You? I don't understand Loki..." you said cautiously.

"The finite power of a machine can never handle the infinite timelines of a multiverse, but the infinite power of a God can", he said as he watched your face intently for any hint of reaction.

It took a moment as you stared at him, blinking. "Do you mean..." you questioned, as the realization of what he was saying started to set in.

"Yes, my love. Believe me, if there was any other way, I swear I would take it. But there isn't. I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us. It's the only way."

"Loki, if this is what you have to do, then please, take me with you at least!" you implored.

"My darling y/n, you know I can not do that. I must bear this burden alone, and you must go live your life on the timeline, the one you deserve to have. I could never condemn you to an eternity of solitude at the End of Time", he said sorrowfully.

"But you'll condemn me to a life of solitude on Earth? Loki, I can't live without you. There's no life for me down there if it's not with you! Please, as long as our friends are happy, and I'm with you, that's all I'll need. Please let me go with you!". The last part came out as a sob as your emotions got the best of you. You couldn't believe what he was talking about doing, the sacrifice he planned to make for the ones he loved.

"When I go back there, to that moment in time, you won't remember any of this. You won't know you said you wanted to go with me," he reminded you.

"Loki, every version of me across space and time would go with you. Even into the abyss, if that's where you have to go. I will follow you, I know I will!" you fully sobbed out as you threw your arms around him. The thought of him leaving you was killing you.

"They'll stop you if you try to follow me, you know that" he said, speaking of your friends back at the TVA.

"Then tell them not to Loki! Please, I'm begging. My place is beside you, always and forever, no matter where that place is."

And then Loki was gone and everything turned to spaghetti.

••••••••••••••

Loki slipped effortlessly back to just the right moment in the Loom control room, having been here in this moment over and over for centuries. This time though, it was different. This time, it was the last time. Loki looked over at you and his friends with a sad and knowing smile on his face. And then with one last look, he turned and ran down the stairs towards the blast doors. He knew he could keep you from following, lock the doors behind him with impenetrable magic. But he also knew that in your heart, you would never want to be without him. You would resent him forever if he left you on Earth alone.

You, Sylvie, and Mobius ran down the stairs after him immediately, but he was already through the airlock doors. The three of you watched Loki open the blast doors with his magic and start to step outside, absent of any protective suit. As you reached out to open the airlock door and go after him, Mobius pulled you back.

"Mobius, I have to go! I have to get to him!!!" you screamed.

"You can't! The temporal radiation will kill you if you open that door and go out there, you know that!"

"But it's going to kill HIM!" you cried out as you watched Loki walk out onto the walkway.

But something amazing started to happen. As the temporal energy shredded his TVA clothes away with every passing second, something else began to take it's place. Flowing dark green linen draped his form, traditional and humble shoes appeared on his feet, and a horned crown adorned his head. He looked absolutely Godlike and regal. As Loki walked closer to the Loom - this imperfect piece of machinery that took so much from so many - he lifted his hands, called upon his magic, and destroyed it in a flash of bright green and white light.

Then, there was darkness. Loki wasn't done, though. He reached out to grab a strand of time and suddenly it glowed back to life, his beautiful green magic allowing it to thrive. He grabbed another, and another. You, Mobius, and Sylvie stood silently in the airlock, watching as Loki brought the timelines back to life, one by one, gathering them in his hands. Above him, a chasm opened in the sky, revealing the End of Time. Loki looked back one last time at the 3 of you back in the airlock. He had no idea if you would really come after him like you said - but he wanted to see your face one last time if it was truly to be the last. Your eyes locked, and you knew now that the temporal energy was gone, there was no threat if you left the airlock.

"I have to go with him." you said to Mobius and Sylvie. "His worst fear is to be alone, and he is going to condemn himself to a lifetime of loneliness to save us all!" you said as you opened the door.

"Y/n, please! Stop! You don't know what you're giving yourself to." This time, it was Sylvie who pulled you back, holding your arm so you couldn't run down the walkway.

"Yes, I do. I'm giving myself to love. I'm giving myself to free will, to choice, to hope." you said.

"Sylvie, let her go," Loki called out. "It's going to be okay." he assured.

Sylvie let go of you hesitantly, and you started your walk out to Loki. When you reached him, he could not take your hand, but you took his arm. Together, you began to ascend the invisible stairs to the End of Time as he held the reanimated timelines in his hands. As you both crossed the threshold of the chasm to the End of Time, He Who Remains' throne and the ruins of his citadel came into view. Loki walked forward to the throne, the one he never wanted but was always destined to have. The timelines took on the beautiful form of a tree - Yggdrasil, the tree of life - the tree of the multiverse that Loki would tend to for eternity.

"This is where I'll have to stay forever, darling. I can never leave, never move. Tending to the timelines is my glorious purpose, my eternal burden. Are you truly willing to stay here with me?" he inquired.

"Yes, my love", you answered without hesitation.

"For all time?" He asked.

"Always".

#loki x reader #tva!loki x reader #loki x you #loki #marvel #mcu #god!loki x reader #drabble #loki drabble #loki imagine #loki season 2 #loki s2 rewrite #not canon #loki series #mcu loki

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