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greengoblinswifey · 27 days ago

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Shattered— Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you’re an actress on the brink of fame and you fall for your co-star Nicholas Chavez. discovering his secret coupled with your unexpected pregnancy changes your entire dynamic.

warnings— cheating, mentions of infertility, mature language, grief and loss, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex, abortion, manipulation.

a/n— kinda long but i’m a slut for angst, also this is all just my imagination and fantasy, it’s not based on nicholas irl <3

Alternative Ending

From the very first time you got an acting role, your manager told you, never engage in relations with your co stars. Looking down at the two positive pregnancy tests on the counter, you wished you had taken heed to her wise words.

You and Nicholas had been thrown into the spotlight together, both relatively new to the fame game. As co-stars, you’d developed a chemistry that felt electric, especially during your lovey-dovey scenes on camera.

As the filming progressed, those on-screen moments started to seep into your off-screen life. You’d find yourselves stealing kisses between takes, getting lost in long conversations about everything from your childhood dreams to your favorite late-night snacks. It was easy to forget that this was just work. You felt like you knew each other inside out.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you were in your trailer, and the laughter just flowed. “I really like this,” Nicholas said, leaning closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “It feels special, you know?”

You nodded, heart racing. “Yeah, it does. I’m just scared of what happens after this season wraps. Will we still have this?”

Nick brushed a thumb across your cheek, his gaze intense. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise I’ll always be here.”

You couldn’t help it; you leaned in and kissed him, the connection between you two crackling like electricity. Everything felt perfect in that moment, but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

What were you missing? Why did he keep his life back home so close to his chest?

As your days turned into nights filled with mind blowing sex, you tried to enjoy every second, but the nagging doubt wouldn’t disappear. You were falling for him, and you wondered if he felt the same way, or if this was just a fun distraction for him.

As filming continued, he made sure to keep the relationship casual, reassuring you that it was all good between you two. “You know I care about you, right?” he’d say between takes, pulling you close, his lips pressing against your forehead, “But a public relationship? It might restrict me from getting certain roles.” You nodded, wanting to be supportive. After all, you understood the pressure of the industry. But deep down, a nagging thought lingered, was there more to it than that?

Still, you brushed off your doubts. You were wrapped up in the excitement of your new life, enjoying every moment of intimacy with Nicholas, nights spent tangled in sheets, whispering sweet nothings, and experiencing a side of Hollywood that felt like a dream. There were moments when he’d use condoms, and others when he’d pull out, but you never worried about getting pregnant. You knew you were infertile, and that fact brought you a strange sense of comfort.

During one of your casual conversations, you mentioned your part-time passion for photography. Nick lit up at the idea, and you quickly arranged for him to meet a photographer friend of yours who worked for magazines. “I’ll be sure to use them,” he said, his tone light. You didn’t think much of it, just a favor for a friend.

Then came the twist, Nick’s character was off the show for a few episodes. He returned to his hometown, and suddenly, the set felt empty without him. You missed him deeply, especially because you’d been feeling under the weather lately. The sickness hung over you, but you knew he needed a break so you didn’t bother him in staying.

As the days went by, his texts became infrequent. You found yourself wondering if something was wrong. Maybe he was just busy? Maybe he was having fun back home? And then, you noticed your period was late. You weren’t scared per se, you remembered the infertility diagnosis, but something felt off.

In a moment of playful distraction, you called your sister. “I’m late,” you joked, half-laughing. “Maybe I should take a pregnancy test?” She encouraged you, laughter spilling over the phone, making it feel lighthearted.

You picked up two tests from the store, ensuring they weren’t expired. When you took the tests, you expected nothing. But to your shock, both tests came back positive.

The laughter faded, replaced by disbelief. You dropped the phone, feeling a wave of panic crash over you. Pregnant? How could this happen? You were still so new in your career, and Nicholas. How would you even tell him? Would he be happy? He had dreams to chase, and now there was a little life to consider.

Your mind raced with possibilities and worries. You knew you needed to talk to Nicholas but the fear of how he’d react was large. You’d built something beautiful, but this was a twist neither of you had planned.

The days dragged on as you tried to process everything. You took a few days to cool off, completely unsure how to proceed. The set was chaotic, your mind was racing while you were trying to act normal. Multiple takes of one scene felt like torture, especially when you had to run off to throw up in between. The directors were patient, but you could sense their frustration growing. You felt guilty, this pregnancy wasn’t their fault, and yet you were struggling to keep it together.

Just two days before Nicholas was set to return, the chaos hit a new level. You received a message from the photographer you had linked Nicholas with. “Check out how cute your co-star looks with his girlfriend!” it read, accompanied by a series of images. You froze as you opened the photos. There he was, Nicholas, beaming in a pregnancy announcement photoshoot with a woman. A woman who was his girlfriend.

Shock coursed through you as confusion and anger collided. Your heart sank, it felt like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t taken any photos with Nicholas, and now you realized why he had been so secretive about his life outside of filming. He was expecting a baby with her. You wanted to scream, shout, break things, or blow up his phone. But instead, you just sat there, staring blankly at the screen, tears streaming down your face.

You ran to the trailer bathroom, clutching your stomach as nausea washed over you. You felt it to your core, the reality of your situation was devastating. He had been playing you both, living a lie, and now here you were, grappling with the knowledge that your pregnancy was based on deception.

Days passed like a blur. You did your best to get through filming, but every time you returned to your trailer, the reality of the life growing inside you became unbearable. You would throw up and clutch your stomach, feeling the weight of what was supposed to be a beautiful moment turned sour by lies.

Finally, the day arrived when Nicholas returned to set. He burst into your trailer, the energy in the room instantly shifting. “I missed you!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. But you just sat there, staring blankly at him, the pregnancy tests in hand, proof of the life you were now burdened with.

He pulled back, looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”

The words caught in your throat. You were ready to confront him, ready to expose the web of lies. But all you could manage was a shaky breath, your heart racing in your chest as you prepared for the storm ahead.

With shaky hands, you thrust the pregnancy tests into Nicholas’s face, your heart pounding. “Here.”

He looked at the tests, confusion swirling in his eyes. “W-what? What the fuck is this. Is this… are you pregnant?” The realization hit him hard, and you could see the panic creeping in.

“Yeah, I am!” you shot back, your voice rising.

“Fucking hell!” he shouted, “my- my fucking career is just taking off, I’m filming a show, this- this wasn’t supposed to get this far.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” You couldn’t believe the things he was saying. “My career is just taking off, I’m filming a show too Nicholas.”

His expression shifted, the initial panic giving way to something more defensive. “I can’t handle this right now! My career is just starting, and I didn’t want to be tied down like this.”

Anger bubbled up inside you, boiling over like a volcano. You could sense the manipulation in his tone, the way he was shifting the blame onto you. “It’s always about you, isn’t it?” you yelled, pushing him away. “You’re just thinking about yourself!”

He reached for you, attempting to pull you back into his embrace, whispering, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out.” But you shoved him off, your emotions raw and unfiltered.

“Figure this out?” you screamed, your voice echoing in the small trailer. “How can you say that when you’re two-timing? Look at these!” You threw your phone at him, the pregnancy announcement photos landing in his lap. His face twisted with fury.

“Are you serious right now?” he shouted, his anger igniting. “I made a mistake with one of them! It wasn’t supposed to go this far! We’re filming a show together; I can’t just drop everything!”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You’re not the Nicholas I thought I knew. How can you act like this? You’re a fucking two-faced liar, sleeping with two girls and getting both of us pregnant!”

He raked a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and despair. “I can’t do this. Not now. You need to- you need to get an abortion.”

The words hung heavy in the air, crashing down around you. You looked at him, heart sinking, disbelief coursing through you. “Are you serious? You want me to end this?”

Nicholas looked away, the weight of his own choices crashing down on him. But it was too late, the damage had been done.

Nicholas’s voice was cold and detached. “Yes, I want you to get an abortion. I’ll give you money for it. You need to have it gone by tonight.”

You felt your heart shatter all over again. “How can you refer to our baby as ‘it’?” The bitterness in your voice was undeniable.

He shrugged, pacing the small trailer. “I don’t know what an abortion can do to your body, but you’ll need time to rest. What are you going to tell production?”

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t know either! But how can you be so heartless?”

“Listen I can’t deal with this, I have a girlfriend and a baby on the way,” he muttered, lowly.

You couldn't take it anymore. “No! I am your girlfriend! WE have a baby on the way, or at least I thought I was your girlfriend!”

Nicholas stopped pacing, his expression a mixture of guilt and confusion. He ran a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be,” he muttered, unsure of what to say next.

Then, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him, he turned and left the trailer without another word, leaving you alone in the silence.

You hugged yourself tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks. The reality of your situation crashed down on you. You felt utterly lost, your heart aching for the life you once envisioned, now shattered.

That night, you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind spiraling as you weighed your options. If you kept the baby, everything would change. Your career, just beginning to gain traction, would be stalled indefinitely. You’d be a single mother, left alone to care for a child Nicholas had already written off. And as a man, he’d be fine. Even with two babies on the way, he wouldn’t be the one carrying or caring for them.

On the other hand, if you didn’t keep it, you weren’t even sure if you’d get another chance. The thought tore at you, but you knew what the world would say. They’d call you a homewrecker, maybe even try to destroy your reputation, and all without knowing the truth. It would be you, bearing the weight of his lies.

Finally, with a heavy heart, you booked the appointment for the next morning. You went alone, tears streaming down your face as you went through it, feeling each moment echo in the hollow of your chest. By the time filming started later that day, you were late, your spirit shattered.

Nicholas spotted you as soon as you walked onto set. He approached, his voice low, but his eyes sharp. “Is it done?”

You nodded, feeling a hollow ache that reached all the way down to your bones. You could barely look at him, but when you did, all you felt was disgust. He added, as if it was some minor detail, “Don’t even think of reaching out to my girlfriend.” You couldn’t believe how cold he’d become, as if you were nothing more than a piece of his past.

Then the call for your scene echoed across the set, and you took your place opposite him. It was a romantic moment, a kiss, meant to be tender and full of passion. But when his lips touched yours, it felt like everything was wrong. The kiss was forced, awkward, each movement filled with a desperation neither of you could hide.

When the director called, “Cut,” you pulled away and fled, barely making it to your trailer before the tears began to flow. Just hours ago, you were carrying his child. Now, all that remained was an empty ache and a broken heart. In some twisted way, you felt almost relieved that you no longer had a part of him inside you. And yet, the loss left you feeling like a shell of who you once were.

A few days after the procedure, you felt like you had nothing left of him. Nothing to show for the life you’d once carried, the part of him that had been yours alone. He had been such a huge part of your life just days before, and in mere hours, that illusion had shattered completely.

The filming continued, and soon the news of his pregnancy announcement with his girlfriend went public. You watched as the set was buzzing with congratulatory wishes for him. Everyone beamed at Nicholas, showering him with smiles and words of celebration. Meanwhile, you did your best to hold yourself together, concealing the sadness that now rested in the hollow of your heart.

When the season finally wrapped, the months that followed became a time of rebuilding. You put everything into healing, into rediscovering yourself. By the premiere night, you were the picture of poise and confidence, draped in a red dress that turned heads. When you stepped onto the red carpet, even Nicholas did a double take, momentarily caught off guard by your transformation.

After the red carpet, he approached, offering a hollow smile. “So, how are you feeling? I just need to know, it’s really done, right?” He hesitated, glancing around, and added, “I heard sometimes fetuses survive abortion…”

The audacity of his words made you sick. Anger sparked in you, and you hissed, barely holding back your rage. “Yes, Nicholas. Our baby is dead. Thanks to you.” You were barely a few weeks along so you wouldn’t have considered it a baby but you wanted to say anything to knock him down.

As the night continued, you managed to keep your composure, even when his pregnant girlfriend approached you with a sweet smile, chatting as if you hadn’t unknowingly been fucking her boyfriend raw. All the while, Nicholas hovered nearby, his eyes sharp, ensuring you didn’t let anything slip. You walked away feeling relief. He’d no longer have a hold on you.

The following months brought a fresh start. You threw yourself into work, your career skyrocketing as you landed a massive film role. Meanwhile, Nicholas seemed to fade from the spotlight, mostly at home with his girlfriend, waiting for their baby. Until, finally, karma came for him, an article revealed that the child he thought was his was actually someone else’s, belonging to a rockstar his girlfriend had left him for.

You couldn’t help the satisfaction that spread through you. He’d reaped exactly what he’d sown, and you hadn’t lifted a finger.

The Oscar nomination was the pinnacle of your success, and the night of the awards ceremony arrived. To your surprise, Nicholas showed up, desperate to find you. He cornered you at last, offering a string of apologies and congratulations, asking for another chance now that he was alone. But you saw through him, his desire was only to latch onto your newfound fame. You looked him in the eyes, remembering everything he’d put you through. He had destroyed you, once. But you had risen again, and he was nothing to you now.

Without a word, you turned and walked away, leaving him to watch as you went forward, leaving him in the past for good.

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lady-ashfade · 1 year ago

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Bound By Birth

The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.

Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.

Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!

Aemond Targaryen

As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.

From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.

We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.

Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.

Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.

But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.

No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.

Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.

He swears one day he would protect you.

Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.

When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.

But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.

Female twin:

Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.

Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.

He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.

After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.

Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.

Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.

Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.

Male twin

Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.

When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.

When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.

Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.

He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.

You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.

He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.

Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.

You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.

Lucerys Velaryon

As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.

Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.

I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.

Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.

He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.

When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.

Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.

He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.

Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone.

He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.

He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.

He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.

Male twin:

He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.

He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.

You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.

You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.

Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.

Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.

But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.

Female reader.

Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.

Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.

Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.

Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.

Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.

Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”

Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.

You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.

Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.

Jacaerys Velaryon

He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.

Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.

He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.

Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.

Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.

He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.

Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.

“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”

Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.

Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.

Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.

Older him is just as bad if not more.

Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.

Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.

Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.

He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.

But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.

Male twin

You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.

From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.

Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.

Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.

After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.

Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.

You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like

“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”

Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.

Matching outfits with you.

Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.

Female twin

Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.

Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.

Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.

Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.

Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.

Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.

While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.

He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.

Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.

He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.

Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.

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girlusional · 2 months ago

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Let's Run away

pov: You are a princess, and he is your bravest knight. Tomorrow, you're going to marry a prince from another kingdom, but you discovered just the night before that the man you really love is the one who always protects you.

pairs: knight! enhypen Heeseung/Jay/Jake (separately) + princess! fem. reader

This is FICTIONAL. It's NOT about the idols in real life.

warnings: kisses, neck kisses, swearing, smut, unprotected sex (don't do it, do it safely), praise, fingering,

!MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

w.c.: 2.135k

LEE HEESEUNG

You were next to your window, seeing the sunset as a new day was coming. Your wedding.

You would be the next queen of a big kingdom, would marry a rich prince and, even if he has lovers, the idea of having power wasn't so bad.

So why were you so sad about it?

“I have to say bye, Your Highness.” You looked at Heeseung, your bravest knight, who was in front of you. “After your wedding, I'll not be your personal knight anymore.”

You frowned, what the hell was he talking about?

“What do you mean?”

You noticed that his eyes weren't looking at you, but at something behind you. And Heeseung always looks into your eyes.

Always.

“I mean that it's time to say goodbye.”

You widened your eyes, confused.

“But… you are my knight.”

Heeseung looked down at the floor, a stern expression on his face.

“I thought this would be better for both of us. I hope you understand.”

You could hear your heart in your ears. This only could be a joke.

“No. I need you by my side.” You walked next to him, trying to reach his face with your hand, but he stepped back.

“No. Please. Don't make it harder for me…” His voice was just a whisper at this point, and his eyes finally were looking into yours.

And something in your chest broke when you saw that he was tearing.

“Please.” He said again. “Don't make me want you more than this. It's not fair.”

Your heart almost stopped when the words were spoken. You stopped paying attention to the room, or to the yellow bird that was next to your window.

Heeseung is the only bright spot now.

You hold his face with kindness and nuzzle his skin, seeing his tears rolling down on his cheeks. He was so handsome it hurts.

“Do you really want me?” You asked, smiling.

“If I say yes, will you stay with me tonight?” You bite your lower lip, thinking.

You'll never be happy married to a prince that only wants you because of your father's kingdom. And you knew that.

Love is not everything, you know it. Freedom is important too. But this marriage will be your cage.

“If you say yes, I'll run away with you tonight.” You said, in a low tone. “If you say yes, I'm yours tonight.”

“Your Highness…”

“My name.”

His eyes were bigger, but his tongue said your name like a praise.

Like a damn necessity.

His hands found the lace on your dress, holding like you could disappear.

His lips touched yours in ecstasy, he moved to kiss you deeply, holding your waist with one hand and the other undone your lace, opening the dress.

“Heeseung…”

That tiny call of his name made something burn inside him.

“Be mine. Be mine, be mine, be mine…” He repeated these words against your skin, kissing your neck in devotion.

“I am yours…” He held your dress, wanting to take it off.

His armor was between your body and his, so he gently put you sat at your giant bed while taking off his pieces.

His sword was on your couch, and he was using boots, black pants and a white shirt, covering his arms and chest.

You observed his body, the way he looked at you, the way his tongue passed between his lips, his chest that was rising and falling fast, his… oh…

“Heeseung, you…” He smiled, walking to you and caressing your chin.

“I can't help it. I want you more than you think.” The buttons of your dress bodice opened, revealing your skin. “Can I kiss your body?”

You leaned on the bed, nodding.

Heeseung was at the top of you, kissing and biting your soft skin, marking it.

You knew your father would kill him for that, but you wouldn't be there when at the sunrise.

Your mind was blank, you don't even know how you both were now clothless, but your tongue just knew how to say one name.

“Heeseung…” You closed your eyes, crying. His mouth against your core, his fingers holding your legs apart. You've never felt this good before. “Heeseung…”

It was wet and hot… and so good.

Your body trembled before you could hold a moan that escaped from your lips.

“Shh, Princess. They will catch us.”

He lay down on the bed, next to you, and caressed your face.

“Will you really run away with me?”

“Yes.” You hugged him. “Let's run away.”

PARK JONGSEONG

You were at the Royal Library, reading about the kingdom of your future husband, Prince Aidan.

He was disgusting. Much older than you and always tries to seduce you.

Really, if you just could run away…

“It's late, Your Highness.” Your book was closed abruptly and you looked up, seeing Jay.

The candles trembled a bit, but kept shining.

“I just need some minutes…”

“You need to sleep, Your Highness.” You sighed. Jay was stubborn when he wanted to be, so you stood up and nodded.

“Get a candle and follow me, I need to put this in its place again.” You pointed to the book.

Your dress was shining under the candle light, but Jay kept his look on your neck, decorated with pearls.

He wanted to reach you, to stop you from marrying that man.

“Can I be selfish one last time before your marriage, Your Highness?” He asked, silently. You were both alone at that library.

“Yes.” You say, looking at the bookshelf you got the book.

When you put the object there again, you felt a head leaning in the curve of your neck and hands holding you behind.

Your heart began to beat fast, and your eyes widened.

“Jay, what…”

“I know isn't fair to you. But I am in love with you.” You shiver with his breath against your skin, his lips almost kissing your neck with proximity. “I wanted to keep you with me, but I knew we would never be together. You are a Princess, I am just a knight.”

You held his hands against your clothes, intertwining your fingers.

“What more?” You asked, caressing his hand.

His lips touched your jawline, making some electricity run inside your veins.

“What do you want to hear, Princess?” His nose slowly strokes your cheek. “That I would die for you?” His arms pressed you a bit more against his body. “That I would worship you like a fucking goddess? Because I would, and I will.” His fingers nuzzled your skin, trying to reach your blood and soul.

You turned your body to look at his eyes and couldn't say a thing because the first thing he did was to kiss you.

To devour your lips.

Your back was against the bookshelf and the candle was on some books.

Jay lifted you up, holding your legs.

He dreamed about it more times than he could count on fingers. And you wanted this more than you would ever say out loud.

One of his hands passed under your dress, feeling your thighs, and yours were at his shoulders, holding him close enough to kiss him.

But a loud sound stopped you.

“Princess? Are you here?” You two were in the library background, and no one could see you from the door.

But you had to answer, once it was your maid's voice.

“I am here. I am just reading some books. I'll go to bed in a few minutes.” You thought Jay would give you a time, but his fingers touched your waist, under your dress, and his hand… he was reaching…

“No.” You whispered. “She is here…”

But Jay smiled and kissed your neck, biting and sucking it.

You had to bite your lips to hold a moan.

“Are you sure? I am a bit worried, Your Highness. Tomorrow is an important day…”

“Yes I am, it's everything okaaa…” Your nails almost crossed Jay's shoulders when his fingers touched your core, massaging you in a lazy rhythm.

“Princess?” Your maid spoke again. “Is it everything okay?”

You wanted to scream, it was so good the way Jay was giving you more pleasure than you could hold.

”Answer her, love.” He muttered. “Or she will see us.”

“I am okay… Just… a bit tired…” You hold a pleased sound. “You can go.”

The doors closed, so you assumed she was gone.

“Park Jongseong…” You gasped when he touched a specific place.

“Say my name again.” He smirked. “I love you so bad, please…” His kisses now were calm and soft, and he kept a peace rhythm. “I want you…”

“I am yours…” Was the last thing you said before you reached your highest. You hugged him, tired. “Jay…”

“Hm?” He put you on the floor, your legs almost stumbling.

“Let's run away.”

SIM JAEYUN

You were worried. It was almost midnight and Jake wasn't in any place you looked.

He told you he was just a bit sick in the morning, but after noon he simply disappeared. And your wedding is going to be the next day.

You don't want to marry that prince, you just want to see Jake again. You held back your feelings for a long time and now, just now, you have the courage to say to him.

But where are him?

You were wearing a night-gown, and it was cold outside your bedroom.

You didn't have a choice, and got a blanket to cover your shoulders.

Jake usually walks in the garden when he's sad or sick, so your last hope was the Royal Garden.

Some flowers are blossoming, and the smell is sweet and pleasant, so you almost didn't see the time passing.

You were almost walking inside the castle again when you heard sobs.

At first you thought that it wasn't nothing, but you saw who was crying, and the scene almost broke your heart.

“Jake?” You called his name, looking at his pitiful state. His eyes were puffy, his nose was red and his clothes were a mess.

Jake stood up, wiping the tears and looking down.

“I am sorry, I…” You didn't wait for him to explain and hugged him with all you had.

“I was so worried about you, idiot…” You teared, relaxing when his hands reached your back.

“I just needed to put some thoughts in place.” He said, embracing you back.

“But you needed to disappear?” Your fingers trace a soft line on his skin. “Idiot.”

He chuckles and holds your hands, nuzzling them as his eyes admire you.

“Do you want to run away with me?” His words echoed between you, making your body freeze.

“Pardon?” You said.

“Sorry… nevermind.” You stepped next to him, curious.

“What did you say?” You try to catch his attention, but Jake sighed.

“I can't see you in this situation. I want to hug you every time you see that prince. I want to kiss you every time he touches your face. I want to have you every time I listen to someone talking about this damn wedding.” He looks at you, frowning. It seemed that he would cry at any moment. “I want you.”

His hands traveled from your face to your waist, squeezing it.

His face now was against the curve of your neck, smelling your sweet perfume.

“Somebody can see us…”

“I don't give a damn, I just want to be next to you.” His lips were so close to you. You just wanted to feel it.

“ Jake.” You felt his breath on your skin, and his hands were on your shoulders, under the blanket. “Shit…”

You weren't thinking straight anymore. Your fingers now were at his hair, and his tongue was caressing your neck, kissing it with so much need. He wanted you so bad.

“Not here.” You whispered.

“Nobody will…”

“Jake!” You wanted to hit him, but then he sat down on the floor, tapping his lap.

And between your reason and your desire, you heard your desire.

His hands explored your body like a treasure, he couldn't get enough of you.

“Jaeyun.” He was so deep. Your blanket was on the roses, and your back was against the grass while Jake was on the top of you, filling you.

You both were sweating, and breathing hard as your bodies became just one. And it was so good. The pleasure was something you just discovered now.

And you wanted more.

“I'm almost…”

“Me too.”

His fingers intertwined yours and his lips devoured the soft skin of your neck. Your moans were low and restrained, afraid that someone could appear.

But you just wanted to scream and say how good that was.

And when he came, his mouth was on yours, savoring your delicious lips.

“Run away with me.”

#enhypen jake #enhypen x female reader #enhypen #sim jaehyun x reader #sim jake #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong #enhypen jongseong #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader

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heauxvibez · 7 months ago

Text

Under

warning: smut (18+)

You be making waves, my ship's here to stay I got what it takes to swim up in it all day I want you to shake it, later tell me it was great When I go under, under

"Roman, stoooppp," Destinee cautioned, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement as she leaned back and swatted his hand away, allowing the soft folds of the bed sheets to envelop her.

On their precious day off, they lay in the comfort of their bed, savoring every moment of relaxation. She reclined, bare above the waist, adorned only in a pair of Pink briefs. He lounged beside her, solely in Nike briefs, the epitome of comfort.

As they nestled together, she nestled against him, her back finding solace in the warmth of his chest, his arms enveloping her in a protective embrace. His hand, tender and loving, found its place between her thighs.

Roman allowed her warning to fall upon deaf ears. He traced delicate patterns on her thigh with his fingertips, each stroke a gentle caress against her skin.

"Please, baby," he begged his voice a soft melody that danced through the air, pleading for her to give in.

Destinee couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence, her laughter mingling with the soft rustle of the sheets as she shook her head playfully. With a gentle push, she resisted his touch her hand pushing his away.

"No, Roman. I'm not about to let you charm your way into eating me up like a Thanksgiving dinner."

Though her words held firm, there was a twinkle in her eyes that betrayed them. Despite her defiance, there was a mutual understanding between them, they had established a safe word. Roman understood that if she ever needed him to stop, she would speak that word without hesitation.

"Come ooonn," he protested with a whine, tilting his head back as his unruly curls escaped their confines of the ponytail.

"Why not?" he murmured with a little sigh, his lower lip sticking out slightly as he lifted his head to lean it on her shoulder. His silky hair fell over her neck and face like a cozy blanket. She pretended to spit out his hair as some strands landed on her lip, making them both chuckle.

"Well, you see," she admitted, her voice slightly muffled as she pulled the sheet up around her, seeking refuge from his teasing touch, "I've never tried it before."

Destinee had been through many relationships, but none had made her feel truly comfortable enough to explore intimacy deeply. Then came Roman, a source of comfort and safety in her journey. With him, she felt free to discover her sexuality step by step, at her own pace. Roman's patience and support allowed her to slowly uncover new aspects of herself, creating a strong foundation of trust and security. As their bond grew, Destinee began to crave a bit of vulnerability from Roman, the deeper their connection, the further she allowed him to explore her.

He wrapped his arm firmly around her waist, drawing her body closer to his. Her back pressed even more tightly against his chest, and she could feel his breath on her neck. He had a plan, a tried-and-true method that always worked when he wanted something from her.

With a low, husky voice, he whispered in her ear, "Well then, let me be your first, baby girl."

Destinee shuddered at the touch of his hand. He slowly slid it down the length of her bare torso, using light, gentle touches to ease her mind. His fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin, making her breath hitch.

"I just want to please you, can I do that?" he murmured softly. As he spoke, he pressed his lips gently against the nape of her neck, leaving soft kisses that made her skin tingle. His warm breath brushed against her, sending toe-curling shivers down her spine. Meanwhile, his hand moved to the waistband of her boy shorts, fingers lightly tracing the edge of the fabric in a teasing manner, making her heart race.

She began to feel butterflies in her stomach, fluttering wildly. The things this man did to her were unexplainable. If she wasn't so breathless and speechless from his gentle touches, she'd be begging him to touch her more.

Roman almost had her right where he wanted her—almost. He knew he had to keep going until she was completely weak, melting in his hands. Hopefully, that wouldn't be too hard for him.

Destinee prayed to God, asking for strength as Roman slid his hand into her underwear. She quickly snapped her thighs tightly together before he could reach her most sensitive spot. Mentally, she patted herself on the back for managing to gain some self-control.

"I told you, I'm not playin' with you, Roman," she groaned, her voice shaky but determined.

She thought she had complete control. But then she felt his tongue gently stroke the outer shell of her ear, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She began to crumble as she realized just how powerful his touch could be.

"Come on, baby, open those pretty legs of yours for daddy," he whispered, his voice smooth. His calloused hands gently massaged her thighs, kneading the soft skin with a tender and firm touch. He traced slow, soothing circles, trying to coax her into relaxing and giving in to his touch.

"Please..." he begged, his voice vulnerable. She'd began to weaken, and her thighs, no longer pressed tightly together, parted slightly. This gave him the chance to sneak his hand in, his fingers gently exploring her sweet spot.

"Mmm..", he moaned softly as he slipped his fingers into her wetness. The warmth of her walls engulfed him, and he felt himself melting the deeper his fingers went. He planted soft, open-mouthed kisses on her neck, his lips trailing along her skin. Pretty moans escaped her lips as she pulsated around his fingers, each movement sending waves of pleasure through both of them.

His warm breath on her neck, combined with his slow, deliberate movements, made her whimper softly. Each shaky exhale of his sent her into a spiral.

But what really drove her mad was when he pulled his fingers out of her. She listened, mesmerized, as he brought them to his mouth. He sucked and slurped on them for a good minute, making sure she heard him enjoy every lick and taste of her juices. The sounds made her heart race and her pussy pulsate. Then, without hesitation, he slid his fingers back into her underwear, the sensation even more intense than before.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he expressed in a breathy moan. The words sent a wave of heat through her, and she couldn't hold back the few sobs that escaped her lips.

As his fingers continued to stroke her insides, his palm occasionally brushed against her clit. Roman, focused on pumping his fingers in and out, not realizing the extra stimulation he was giving her. But Destinee felt every touch, and it drove her wild. She started panting, her breaths coming faster and faster. Grabbing hold of his wrist, she begged him, her voice desperate and pleading, "Please, let me cum.".

"I'm not letting you cum unless it's on my tongue," he spoke sternly before allowing his groans to caress her ears.

"Roman... please..." she begged, her voice trembling with need. She tried to guide his fingers, but he held them still, refusing to budge.

"You gonna let me taste it?" he asked, his tone both demanding and eager, his eyes locked down on her, awaiting her response.

Destinee's exhale was deep, she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself to be devoured by him.

"Yes..." Her voice was a whispered affirmation.

As he descended, he trailed kisses along her shoulders and down her body, relishing in her small moans and gasps. His own moans mingled with hers in a small symphony. His hair followed above him, the locs also leaving a blazing trail as he made his way down.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Roman dove beneath the covers, his actions swift and determined.

The fabric of her boy shorts strained as he all but tore them off. Her thick thighs were gently but firmly parted.

Positioning her thighs on his shoulders, he held them with a confident grip, readying himself to drown in her juices. He steeled himself, he knew she would attempt to run.

He licked his lips, eyes fixated on her folds, as he blew his minty breath across her slit. With each puff, her clit seemed to harden under the faint touch.

Destinee pulled back the sheets, eager to watch him.

Their eyes locked, his dark gaze meeting hers, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He stuck his tongue out, taking a large, long lap at her slit, watching as Destinee bit on her bottom lip.

He did that a few times, swirling his tongue around her clit.

Her body froze as he wrapped his lips around her bundle of nerves. It was a new sensation, and her mind raced, torn between wanting to pull him closer by his hair or push him away.

"Jesus... what are you doing to me?" she muttered, her voice trembling as she tried to wrap her mind around what her body was feeling. She squeezed her legs tightly around his neck.

Her juices were dripping everywhere, and he eagerly lapped up her nectar. With each kiss, he slipped his long, thick tongue deep inside her. It felt almost like he was reaching into her chest.

"Driving you insane, clearly..." he chuckled, licking his glossy lips, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

He gently nibbled on her thighs, giving them soft kisses afterward to soothe them. Then, he went back to exploring her wetness eagerly. He really enjoyed it. He felt like he could spend forever between her legs, just listening to all the sounds she made - the moans, the squeals, the screams. He was completely hooked on her and couldn't get enough.

"Don't stop, daddy..", she moaned, thrusting against his tongue.

"I don't plan on it, baby."

Roman gently moved his hands upward along her body, his fingers providing support to her lower back. His thumbs gently stroked her waist, while his tongue moved quickly against her, savoring her sweetness.

He sensed her inner muscles tighten around his tongue, releasing all their sensations into his mouth. Her body tensed as she reached climax. It felt incredibly powerful, especially since they were new to this experience; everything seemed so unfamiliar yet exciting.

She couldn't help but let out squeals as he kept going. Even after she climaxed, he didn't pause, his lips staying firmly on her clit. She felt so sensitive that she feared she might faint if he didn't stop soon

She gently pushed him away, shaking her head.

"Enough... please, stop, Ro."

With one final lick, he kissed his way back up her body.

"How was it?" he murmured, nuzzling back into the warmth of her neck.

Her fingers wove through the soft tangle of his curls, a contented smile playing on her lips. "It was amazing," she replied.

He chuckled softly, the sound reverberating against her skin. "I can tell," he teased, his words causing a delicate blush to bloom on her cheeks.

Rolling her eyes playfully, she gently pushed him away, reaching for the comfort of the blankets as she settled onto her side.

" I'm going to sleep," she mumbled, her voice carrying a hint of playful defiance.

But he wasn't ready to let her go just yet. With a tender touch, he drew her close, mirroring the intimate embrace they had shared earlier.

Planting soft, lingering kisses along the curve of her shoulder, he whispered against her skin, "I love you."

A smirk danced on her lips as she responded, "I know," before surrendering to the embrace of sleep.

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

Hope you enjoyed this!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80 @headoftheetable @trashbin-nie @sheyaish @tshepisho @mzv11 @venusesworld

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #wwefanfic #romanreignsimagine #wwe #romanreignsoneshot #roman reigns smut #fanfiction #roman reigns x black reader

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bg-brainrot · 8 months ago

Text

Alone in a Crowded Camp

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: A short Astarion reflection, where he realizes that company isn't so bad.

Tags: Astarion POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings

A/N: My ~mood~ persists and I wanted to make this real angsty, but even I couldn’t do that to myself hah. A short little oneshot to try to get me out of my funk!

Word count: ~1.1k

Alone.

Astarion has gotten quite good at being alone.

For two hundred years, he's been surrounded by people– their faces, their bodies, their sickly sweet words and insincere affections. But all along, he has been deeply, achingly alone.

He's had his siblings, ugh, if that's what you could call them. They’ve been a constant, annoying, and at times cruel presence in his life. They’ve felt like a growth he could no more remove than he could ignore. And, through the misery and the pain, he somehow still managed to feel gods awfully alone.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the source of his loneliness. After all, he has nary a moment to himself. But no matter how many people, no matter how frequently he’s with them, something is missing. There is no connection, no kindness, no caring. He simply is alone.

As such, Astarion has grown downright skilled at solitude. A practical art form, he's certain– someone else may call it a method of coping. Either way, it’s not a skill he's comfortable to admit.

Especially not when he suddenly finds himself surrounded once more, veritably drowning in the same disgusting familiarity and the startling newness of companionship. Because this time, he's free. Or as free of Cazador as he's willing to believe for the moment. And his companions don't expect much from him. At least not more than he's willing to provide.

So when he settles into the motley crew, he’s prepared to face the same discordant discomfort of isolation, all while being a hair’s breadth from falling into someone’s bedroll.

Instead, what he finds is an unconventional, at times chaotic, symphony.

The loud sheering sound of weapons being sharpened.

The heat of bodies surrounding a late night campfire.

The beautiful, desperate joy on the faces of those who may not live to see another day.

Astarion soon discovers that, despite the dirt, despite the tentacled doom lingering over his gorgeous head of curls, the boisterous mundanity of daily life is oddly… welcome.

For so long, as long as he can remember honestly, he’d dreaded meeting someone new. Meeting someone new meant as much a death sentence for them as it meant a detestable evening for him, a night lost to his inevitable withdrawal into the deepest darkness he could muster.

But here, in the warm glow of firelight, the darkness abates.

Against all of his efforts, he actually learns about the group.

How Lae’zel single-handedly took on her entire crèche while training, how many rooms Gale’s tower boasts back in Waterdeep, how far Wyll’s travels have taken him along the Chionthar, how Shadowheart didn’t need her memories to remember she hated bad wine, how Karlach once defeated a Pit Fiend in the hells themselves. None of them are things he expected to learn, nor care about. But he finds himself listening, chortling along all the same.

And then there’s you.

At first, he’d kept you a careful arm and knife distance away– an asset surely, but just as surely a dangerous one. He’d learned early in his time with Cazador that anyone who could wield both blade and charm was not someone to be trifled with.

What he hadn’t expected was the way that you made him feel: Distinctly not-alone.

Whether it be catching the mischievous twinkle in your eye from across the room or finding himself wrapped in your arms, feeling your body heat slowly seeping into him– he simply can’t understand how you make the world feel so full.

Astarion isn’t sure if he loves this new feeling of overwhelming closeness or misses the solitude. He wonders if he’ll ever feel alone again, and the idea that he may not both thrills and terrifies him.

Because there is something soothing about being alone, a type of insidious succor only his own thoughts provide.

The ache loneliness has carved in his chest is as lingering as it is deeply rooted within him and, like a plant desperately trying to survive, he finds the roots digging deeper and deeper in an attempt to stay grounded.

His moments of actual time to himself have been scarce, of course. So, in his fear, Astarion has gotten used to finding his solitude among the chaos, sequestering himself away from any who might hurt him before such a chance could arise.

Retreating from their kindness, reciprocating with sharply worded barbs, shooting utterly underserved glares in every direction. Their wounded looks mean nothing to him– why should they? They are just another group of strangers, one vampire lord away from becoming another pile of corpses.

However, much like every other of his carefully thought out plans, you are ready to thwart him. For every attempt he makes to withdraw, you’re right there, proving time and again that you are no stranger. Not anymore.

“Astarion.”

It’s a simple thing, his name. The last remnant from a mother he no longer remembers. It sounded wretched upon Cazador’s lips, a curse he could never break. Upon yours though? It may as well be a blessing.

With that one, simple name, his loneliness is allayed. The roots embedded within him pull back, if only for the moment.

Despite his best efforts, he remembers that he is not alone. Astarion feels at ease.

His heart opens, little by little, and not just to you.

Living hundreds of years as he has, faces had begun to meld together, names began to lose their meaning, voices their distinct candor. But for the first time in a long, long time, he finds himself seeing, listening, connecting to others in a way he no longer believed himself capable of.

It’s… nice. Not that he’ll ever tell the others.

Naturally, his past doesn’t simply up and vanish. His mind still drifts, and he finds himself retreating into the damning safety of solitude from time to time. But each and every time, a hand reaches out– at times jovial, sometimes tentative, other times caring– ready to pull him back to the present.

“Astarion?”

One such hand comes into his field of view, and he takes it instinctively. It’s warm, comforting, and scarred with the beautiful history of an adventurous past. He could get lost in the look and feel of this hand.

“Astarion? Are you alright?”

Your voice is soft, tone gently questioning– yet still worried. Adorable, but you needn’t worry about him. He doubts he’s ever been better.

“Mmm, yes, darling. Quite alright.”

“Good.”

Your hand squeezes his as you respond and he’s certain that, as long as you’re next to him, he may never feel alone again. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing after all.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion comfort #spawn astarion #hurt comfort #sort of a character study

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justmystyles · 9 months ago

Text

Smoke and Mirrors

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,554

summary: Harry asks you to move to London with him, but a new opportunity for him makes things a little more complicated than you'd both expect.

a/n: first and foremost, i want to make sure that it is clear that this not me taking a stance or making a statement on the status or legitimacy of Harry's relationship. i just got inspired by all the theories and conspiracies, and thought to myself, 'hey, what if Harry was in a real relationship while he was also doing a PR relationship', and wrote this.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You shut the refrigerator door and sigh. You weren’t even hungry, you were just bored and figured eating or cooking could kill a little bit of time. The longer things went on this way, the more you were starting to feel like a prisoner in what was supposed to be your new home.

When Harry proposed the idea of you moving to London to live with him, you couldn’t have been more excited. You had spent the week with him when he performed four sold out nights at Wembley Stadium, it was a monumental time for him, but he seemed more excited to show you his home than to perform. You had never been to London before, and Harry did everything he could to make you feel welcomed and comfortable. Especially in his house. He had made room for you in the closet, significantly more than you would need for just a couple of days. You thought it was adorable how at home he wanted you to feel. And then, one morning, toward the end of your time there, you discovered why he had been trying so hard.

“This is really nice.” Harry hummed as you rested your head on his chest, his fingers tracing random patterns on your arm. “Waking up to my girl, in my bed. This is what life is all about.”

You sighed happily, soothed by the rise and fall of his chest, and the beating of his heart against your ear.

“What would you think about doing this after tour, like all the time?” His voice suddenly got quiet and tentative.

You looked up at him curiously. “Yeah, I’d love that baby. Anywhere I get to wake up in your arms is good with me. Where do you want to go?”

He took a deep breath. “I was uh… thinking here. Maybe you could… I don’t know, move in with me?”

Your eyes widen and you sit up, resting your back against the headboard. “You want me to move in with you?”

“Yeah,” he replies nervously. “Listen, I know it’s a huge move for you. You’d be leaving everything to come halfway across the world to a country you’ve only spent a couple of days in. I totally understand if…”

“Yes,” you interrupt him.

“Yes?” He looks so confused, you’d think he’d forgotten what he asked you.

You giggle at his reaction. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.” You smile. “When I started dating you, I knew that if we were going to be a long term thing, this would be an inevitability. I’m ready, I want to.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” you assure him. “But I’m going to need a tour guide, someone to help me get settled. Do you happen to know anyone?”

He pulls you in, kissing you deeply. “You have no idea how happy this makes me, angel. I promise, I will be here to show you everything. I don’t have any work commitments once the tour is over. I’ll be all yours, I’ll show you all my favorite places, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

Here you were three months later, and you were still a complete stranger in the city. You managed to find your way around the block so that you could get out and get some fresh air from time to time, but that was the extent of your exploration. And it had been done alone.

You understood that Harry liked to keep his personal life private, that you wouldn’t be walking red carpets on his arm and he wouldn’t be professing his love for you in interviews, and you were fine with that. He told you that he knew how to fly under the radar when he was home, so that you could enjoy your time together unbothered by fans and paparazzi.

Then, he came to you with some news you hadn’t expected, news that changed your post-tour plans.

“I’m so sorry Har, I thought I was going to have everything done in time to be with you for all of July. I’m going to have to meet you in Lisbon and go from there.” You apologized from the other end of a FaceTime call.

You had only just gotten home from the London shows, and were determined to get your affairs in order as quickly as possible so you could get right back on the road with him, but preparing to move internationally turned out to be a bit more complicated than you had hoped.

“It’s alright angel, as long as you’re there for the last show, and all the nights after that, that’s what matters.” He smiles, but you notice that it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I uh… I had a meeting yesterday, about the Loewe deal. I got it.” He says, you notice he’s not as excited as he should be.

“Baby, that’s incredible! But why do you seem so sad about it?”

He lets out a deep sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “They have some stuff they need from me, I’m going to have to go out when we get back to London, be seen in their clothes, stuff like that.”

You give him a sad smile, you know how much he was looking forward to having time off, without any work responsibilities, but you’re determined to cheer him up. “Oh you have to wear fancy designer clothes and walk around London. What a tough life.” You giggle, but you notice that his expression doesn’t lighten up. “Harry?”

“They want to pair me up with one of the other brand ambassadors, have us go around and get some candid shots out and about.” He pauses for a second before continuing. “Her name is Taylor, she’s going to be in London for a bit working on a play.”

Your face falls, understanding washing over you. “They want rumors going around that you two are together.”

“Angel, I don’t have to. I can tell them no. I don’t want to –”

“But you’ll lose the contract if you tell them no, right?” He nods.

The last thing you want to do is hold Harry back, especially from something he’s so excited about. He’s been talking about this opportunity for months, you would hate to be the reason it fell through. Besides, you’re confident in your relationship, you know that this would only be for press, and that you’re the one he’d be coming home to every night. It’s no different than if he were taking a roll in a movie, he just happens to be playing himself.

“I think you should do it.” You see him look up in disbelief. “Seriously. You’re my boyfriend, I know that and I trust you. So you’ll have to go on a couple of coffee dates, and hold hands with another girl a couple of times. You’ll just make up for it when you get home to me. In our house.”

Adjusting to Harry’s new job was difficult, especially when Taylor joined up with him in Vienna, two weeks before you were able to get back to him, and became a part of the entourage for the remainder of the tour. You already had your own guilt about not being there in that time, that combined with the constant need to remind yourself that it wasn’t real became a lot. You were careful not to let it show when you spoke to Harry though. He had enough going on, worrying about you would just be a distraction.

You felt better once you were able to get to Lisbon. You were reunited with Harry, and you were able to meet Taylor. She was incredibly sweet, and thrilled to meet you, she said Harry had been talking about you non-stop. You didn’t need the reassurance, but it felt nice nonetheless.

The last few days of the tour went by in an emotional blur. Before you knew it, you were relaxing in Italy with Harry’s closest friends, celebrating the end of an amazing and grueling tour. Taylor had to go straight from the last show to London to prepare for her play, which was a relief to you.

But now you were here, in London, and Harry was spending most of his time out and about in the city, while you sayed home. Between having to be photographed out and about with Taylor, and the time he was spending reconnecting with his good friend, James Corden, now that he was also back in London, it left little time for him to spend with you. You didn’t feel you had any right to say anything about it though, you were the one that encouraged him to sign the Loewe deal, knowing that this was going to be a part of it. But you didn’t realize just how much time Harry would be spending out on the town, leaving minimal time for him to spend with you.

Tonight, Harry is out watching Taylor’s play again. You’ve gone to bed early thinking that sleep will be the best thing to pass the time. However, sleep eludes you. As you lay staring at the ceiling, something inside of you snaps. You pick up your phone from the bedside table, and begin looking at flights. Before long, you’re out of bed, and pulling your suitcase from the closet.

“Honey, I’m home!” Harry calls cheekily from the entryway. When you don’t respond, he assumes you’re asleep, and quietly makes his way up to the bedroom.

He opens the door, and his soft, happy expression, the one he gets when he knows he’s coming home to you quickly turns into one of confusion and worry.

“Y/N? Are you going somewhere?”

You jump slightly, too focused on your packing to notice he had come into the room. You take a deep breath, knowing that this isn’t going to be a good conversation.

“I’m going back to the states.” You reply quietly.

He comes up behind you, placing a hand on the small of your back. “Is everything okay? How long will you be gone?”

You shake your head and take a seat on the end of the bed. “No, Harry, I’m moving back.”

Harry’s eyes go wide and he drops to his knees in front of you. “What? Why?” He takes your hands in his and grips them tightly.

“This isn’t working, Har. I’m sorry.” I look down at our joined hands and sigh. “I’m not mad or anything, it's just… the timing didn’t pan out as well as we thought it would.”

“Y/N, baby, what do you mean? Please, talk to me…” The pleading tone in his voice breaks your heart, and you struggle to hold back your tears.

You take a deep breath before continuing. “Me moving here was a great idea when you were going to have all this time, and we were actually going to get to be together, but the plan changed. I’ve been in London for a couple of months now, and the most I’ve seen is the grocery store around the corner. I spend my days home alone, trying to keep myself distracted until you get back.”

Harry moves to sit beside you on the bed, one arm goes over your shoulders. With the other, he tilts your chin so that you’re looking him in the eyes. “My love, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it wouldn’t have been fair of me.” He gives you a confused look and you sigh softly before continuing. “I’m the one that pushed you to take this Loewe deal, I told you I was fine with it. I can’t just decide now that I’m not getting enough attention, because you’re making good on a deal I encouraged you to sign…”

“Hey,” Harry interrupts you, nothing but kindness and care in his eyes. “It’s okay to change your mind about things. You didn’t fully understand how it would play out. Hell, I didn’t even expect it to be this much. But I’m not a mind reader baby, you need to tell me when something is bothering you.”

You nod your head and look down at your lap. He immediately slips an index finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Talk to me now, you know I’m not…”

“No no no!” You insist with wide eyes, before he can even finish his sentence. “I know you’re not cheating on me. That’s not it at all. I just… I miss you.” You say softly.

“Baby…” Harry coos and pulls you into a tight hug. “I miss you too, I’m so sorry. Please, just don’t leave, we’re going to figure out a way to make this work.”

The feeling of his arms wrapped around you, combined with his reassuring words and loving tone cause you to lose the control you had over your emotions and a soft sob escapes you, and Harry feels his heart break even more. He hates when you cry, and on the rare occasion when he is the cause, it’s absolutely devastating for him.

You stay like that for a few moments, neither of you speaking. Harry just holds you as you cry; he knows that you’ve been keeping these feelings inside for a while, so he wants to give you all the time you need to get them out. As you cry against his chest, he rubs your back and presses soft kisses to the top of your head, making sure that you know he’s there, and that you are his priority.

When you’ve finally gotten it out of your system, you pull back just enough to look him in the eyes. “S-sorry…” You say as you sniffle.

You start to lift your hand to wipe your cheeks, but Harry beats you to it, cupping your cheeks as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

“Are we okay?” He asks softly. You nod in reply, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “And you’ll stay?”

You give him a soft smile. “I’ll stay.”

He pulls you close, kissing you tenderly. “Good, now let’s get to bed. I’ll make a few calls in the morning to take care of everything, and then we’re going to spend the whole day together. I’m going to show you my London, I’m gonna make a proper Brit out of you.”

You giggle and shake your head. “Right-o, mate!” You reply in a bad British accent.

Harry scrunches his nose in mock disgust. “We’d better get to sleep, we have a lot of work to do.”

You slap his chest playfully as you stand up, returning your suitcase to the closet before slipping under the covers with Harry. As soon as you’re both in bed, he pulls you close, resting your head on his chest. He kisses the top of your head.

“Thank you.” He whispers softly against your hair.

“For what?” You ask curiously.

“For staying, for moving here in the first place, for loving me.” He says tenderly.

You tilt your head up to lock eyes with him, and smile softly. “Trust me when I tell you, it’s my pleasure.”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you both drift off into a peaceful sleep with the promise of a new day, and a new start in the morning.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem! reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

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rainforestakiie · 4 months ago

Note

before they get together Omega Adam bending down to pick up flowers, while Omega Lucifer standing behind him . His nails digging into his hands, as he tries to control himself for jumping on the first man .

Adam: Look how many pretty flowers !

Lucifer: 👁️👁️ "heavy breathing while staring at that sweet ass"

ahhhh! i love this soooo muchhhhh!!!!

let me know if this comes up alright! i wrote it on my phone not my laptop! it is a bit harder to figure out how to post it!

(also to all the wonderful anons who have sent me messages about my imp Adam au! it is coming! i am writing a oneshot it is on my list! but i am also writing little ideas for your messages!)

Nest of the Damned (Omegaverse Omega/Omega) Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04. Part 05. Extra 01.

Full Version

It was a perfect day in Eden, the kind of day that whispered of paradise itself. The air was a gentle caress, neither too warm nor too cool, just the right blend of comfort and delight. The flowers, in full bloom, seemed to blush in the soft light, their colors as vivid as the emotions they stirred. Birds sang sweet melodies, their songs weaving through the golden rays of sunlight that bathed the world below. The sky was an endless canvas of blue, unmarred by even the slightest wisp of cloud, as if painted by the most loving hand.

In moments like these, Lucifer often found himself enchanted by Gabriel’s handiwork. His younger brother, with an artist's heart, took immense pride in crafting the universe's beauty. Once, the sky had blushed in shades of pink and yellow, but Adam had confessed to Lucifer that the vibrant hues made him dizzy. Ever the doting brother, Lucifer had gently persuaded Gabriel to alter the sky’s palette. Now, it wore a soothing blue by day and glittered like a sea of stars by night—a change that Adam adored.

“Adam~” Lucifer purred, his wings spreading wide as he descended behind the human with effortless grace.

Startled, Adam spun around, his emerald eyes wide with surprise. The sight of his Archangel filled him with such joy that he couldn’t contain a delighted squeal. In a heartbeat, he launched himself at Lucifer, his happiness as bright as the morning sun.

“Luci! You’re back!”

Lucifer’s grin was warm as he wrapped his arms around the human, returning the embrace with tender affection. “Aw, were you lonely without me, my sweet Addie?”

“I’m always lonely without you,” Adam murmured, his voice soft and honeyed. The scent of lemon and mint clung to him, a fragrance so intoxicating it made Lucifer’s wings flutter involuntarily. “I missed you so much! Lilith doesn’t share my excitement when I talk about the new things I discover in the garden.”

With a teasing smile, Lucifer cupped Adam’s face, a gentle purr rumbling in his chest. “Oh, my darling, did you find something new? Show me, if you wish.”

“Would you really want to see?” Adam asked, his voice filled with sweet uncertainty.

“Of course,” Lucifer replied, his smile widening. “I’d love nothing more. Have you given them names yet?”

Adam shook his head, pulling back slightly but not letting go of Lucifer’s hand. The angel entwined their fingers, his heart swelling as he watched Adam’s excitement build. The human was utterly adorable, his vibrant energy palpable as he practically buzzed with anticipation. Those mesmerizing emerald eyes, flecked with gold, never failed to captivate Lucifer. He often lost himself counting the flecks, a pastime as soothing as it was intimate. Adam’s cherry-red lips curved into a crooked smile as he tugged Lucifer toward a nearby hill, eager to share his latest discovery.

To Lucifer, Eden hadn’t changed much over the eons. The trees, the grass, the flowers—everything seemed just as it had always been. Yet, something had captured Adam’s attention so deeply, and Lucifer found himself falling even more helplessly in love with the human. The urge to wrap Adam in his wings, to shield him from the world and keep him close forever, surged within him.

But in the back of his mind, Lucifer could almost hear the disapproving voices of Seraphiel and Michael, their stern lectures about Adam’s delayed presentation echoing in his thoughts. Lilith had presented as an Alpha nearly two summers ago, while Adam had only just begun showing signs of becoming an Omega. Sera was thrilled, and Michael had sighed in relief, but Lucifer couldn’t help but worry. He had noticed Lilith’s growing interest in Adam, something that made his protective instincts flare.

Lilith had once ignored Adam, dismissing him as insignificant, and Lucifer had found solace in that indifference. It meant he didn’t have to worry about the Alpha tainting his precious Omega. The one comfort Lucifer still clung to was Adam’s clear disdain for the woman. For now, at least, Adam was still his, and Lucifer intended to keep it that way.

"Look at these, Luci! They just appeared out of nowhere!" Adam’s voice bubbled with excitement as he pointed to the delicate blooms nestled beside their beloved red roses. "I was admiring our roses—I adore them so much—and suddenly, I noticed these new flowers blooming right next to them!"

Lucifer’s eyes widened in surprise. A new flower growing among his roses? Those red roses were more than just flowers; they were one of the few treasures Lucifer had secretly brought into Eden, a passionate gift for Adam, laden with deep, unspoken meanings that had blossomed alongside their growing bond.

"I haven’t named them yet, but look, they’re the same color as our roses! Red!" Adam’s voice was almost a song, his green and gold eyes sparkling with curiosity. In that moment, with the sun casting a tender glow on his face, Lucifer found him breathtakingly beautiful. "Remember what you taught me?"

Adam gasped, placing a hand over his chest, his cheeks flushing a lovely pink. "Red roses are a powerful symbol of love and passion. They’re the ultimate flower of romance, expressing the deepest emotions."

"Exactly," Lucifer murmured, brushing a soft feather along Adam’s side, delighting in the way his human blushed at the touch. "Red roses are the quintessential emblem of romantic love. They convey intense feelings and are often given to someone with whom one shares a deep, abiding connection." His voice was a warm whisper, each word woven with affection. "The vivid red speaks of passion, making these roses the perfect expression of desire and attraction."

"But they mean even more than that," Lucifer continued, his tone growing slightly more serious. "Red roses also symbolize respect and deep admiration. They can represent enduring love and commitment, often marking significant anniversaries or milestones in a relationship."

Adam listened, entranced, nodding as he absorbed each word. "Red roses are our flower. They represent us."

"Good boy, such a clever Omega," Lucifer teased, his eyes gleaming with pride. Adam beamed, his heart swelling at the praise, the warmth of Lucifer’s love enveloping him like the softest embrace.

With eager anticipation, Adam led Lucifer to their cherished patch of red roses—a secret sanctuary where the two Omegas could tend to their garden and enjoy each other’s company without the interference of other Archangels or the prying eyes of Lilith. As they approached the vibrant blooms, Adam’s face lit up with pure joy, his happiness as radiant as the sun that bathed them.

"They’re always blooming, never withering," Adam sighed, his voice soft with contentment as his smile deepened, brimming with sweetness, affection, and unmistakable love. "I really love our roses."

Lucifer couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride swell within him. He longed to nuzzle against Adam, to scent him and claim him as his own, but he restrained himself. He was an Archangel, and Adam was the first human—barriers that kept them apart, no matter how much his heart wished otherwise. Besides, they were both Omegas, and Omegas weren’t supposed to be together... but oh, how Lucifer wished the world had been different.

"Look, these are the new flowers," Adam said with a bright smile, bending down to examine the tiny blossoms nestled among the roses. "They’re red too, just like the roses. They’re so pretty and smell so lovely. They remind me of you—they smell like you."

Lucifer’s gaze softened as he peered at the delicate flowers. They carried his scent? And Adam cherished them because of that? His heart fluttered with a quiet, joyful tremor at the thought. Stepping closer to inspect them, Lucifer’s focus shifted abruptly as something else entirely caught his attention.

Oh.

Oh, heavens.

Adam was fully bent over, his position offering Lucifer an unintended yet utterly irresistible view. The sunlight danced across his skin, highlighting the soft freckles on his buttocks. Lucifer’s breath hitched as he found himself entranced, wondering just how many freckles adorned Adam’s tender flesh. A shiver ran up his spine as desire coiled tight within him, making his fingers clench until his nails dug into his palms, the sting a necessary anchor to reality.

No, he couldn’t allow himself to look, to give in to the temptation of Adam’s adorably exposed behind. Adam wasn’t his—not yet. He should be, but in this moment, he wasn’t.

Lucifer’s mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard, tugging at the collar of his robes in an attempt to regain some semblance of control. "Um… y-you should pick a name for them…"

"Really?" Adam hummed, oblivious to the effect he was having on the Archangel, wiggling his hips slightly as he shifted on the balls of his feet. The innocent gesture sent a surge of heat through Lucifer, nearly undoing him. Adam tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Oh! I’ve got it! Carnations! Red Carnations! Another beautiful flower that represents us!"

Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to maintain his composure. The urge to reach out and touch Adam’s perfect, freckled skin was overwhelming, almost unbearable.

"T-That’s great! So great!" he stammered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

He was hopelessly, irretrievably smitten

#fanfic #hazbin hotel #au #adamsapple #a03 #lucifer x adam #fanficiton #guitarduck #non traditional omegaverse #omegaverse #omega x omega #omega adam #omega lucifer #omega pair

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nerdanel01 · 5 months ago

Text

Dilemma

Emmrich Volkarin/F!Rook 5k+ wc | SFW, CW profane language (Johanna drops some f-bombs) EXCERPT: “Ah, yes, Emmrich. Come in. Close the door behind you.”

That had the alarms in his head ringing. What did Johanna have to say to him that she did not want anyone else in the Mourn Watch to overhear? His stomach flipped, terrified that she had ill news to share with him.

“Did you find something?” he asked, his voice both keen and fearful. “Is she—”

“No,” Johanna said, shaking her head, dragging the heels of her palms over her forehead as though she were trying to smooth away a budding migraine. Bitterly, she continued, “No, there is still no sign of her. It is like the Maker himself scooped her up in his hands and set her down half a continent away.” But then, with a frustrated sigh and a shake of her head, Johanna changed tact. “But I did not call you here to talk about her. I wanted to talk about you.”

“About me?”

“Yes, you.” Johanna put both her elbows on the desk, folding her hands together, and gave him an unbearable look of concern. “How are you, Emmrich?"

9:52 Dragon

He would have thought it impossible, but it was true: after all these years, so late in his life, Emmrich was still discovering new things about himself. Though he had never before felt himself inclined towards habitual self-loathing and self-punishment, he had found himself, over the last two years, developing a taste for such masochism.

When, by chance, he had seen the promotional poster for The Elixir of Love displayed outside the opera house, he had made an immediate beeline for the box office. Not unaware of the pain it would cause him to sit through the performance—indeed, perhaps in anticipation of it—he impulsively bought out the whole box he had shared with Agnes during their first outing at the theatre so long ago.

The music that had once felt so sweet and buoyant to him now tugged painfully at his heart. How utterly stupid he had been—nearly as foolish as Adina, the opera’s heroine, though she at least had realized her mistake before it was too late, before Nemorino was lost to her forever. He could not escape the memory of Agnes, her parted lips colored with red pigment as she had watched the opera, breathless.

He leaned back into the shadows of the box so that no one else in the theatre would see his wet cheeks shining in the dim performance light.

And, unable to bear even the first melancholy opening notes when Nemorino took the stage for his final aria, Emmrich stood up from his seat and made a discreet exit.

‘What more need I look for? She loves me! Yes, she loves me, I see it, I see it.’

But instead of returning to the Necropolis he had waited on the opera house steps, trying to calm his eager, hopeful, thundering heart while he waited for the performance to conclude. As the audience began to stream out of the theatre, Emmrich stood, facing the lobby doors and scanning every face, just as he had scrutinized the audience from his box before the curtain rose on the production. There was no reason to believe Agnes was still in Nevarra City. Two years, they had been searching for her; the other Watchers, that they might officially and dishonorably discharge her from their ranks for her abandonment of her post; and Emmrich, that he might fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness. And as the crowd swelled, then thinned to a trickle—as the ushers began to snuff the theater lamps and lock the doors for the night—Emmrich should have acknowledged his defeat.

Still, he held out an impossible hope. The crowd had been thick; the theatre packed. Emmrich made his way to the public gardens, and posted himself on a bench beneath the watchful gaze of Caspar Pentagahst, mere feet from where he had danced with Agnes over seven years ago. Where he should have kissed her, fully and deeply, had he not been a coward and a fool. If she were here, if she had been drawn back to the city, to the opera, might she retrace their steps, as Emmrich himself now did? An impossible hope. Still, Emmrich sat in the park through the night, tormented by ghosts and regrets, languishing in memories, until dawn cracked the sky.

Though Emmrich had tried to hide it, losing Agnes had changed him. He was less ebullient than he had been, more withdrawn. Slower to make connections with the younger initiates that joined the ranks of the Mourn Watch. His work, to which he had always been devoted, took on the mania of obsession. When an unfortunate incident in the Necropolis had claimed Wilfred, he had virtually locked himself in his study. Only eating when Myrna brought him food from the dining hall and bullied him into forcing down a few bites; only sleeping in fitful starts in his armchair. He had emerged at last two and a half weeks later, unshaven, haggard, and over a full stone lighter, with Manfred—his most splendid creation yet—trailing sentiently behind him. Compared to his predecessors, Manfred was so complex, so alive, that he was a perfect proxy for genuine human contact. And rather than resting, rather than celebrating, and allowing himself a respite from his work, his success with Manfred had only thrown him deeper into it.

One day, after this had gone on for three months, Johanna had summoned him to her office. Emmrich had stood in her doorway, exhausted and listless from another late night in the study. “You wished to speak with me?”

Johanna looked up at him, set her spectacles down on her desk and rubbed wearily at her eyes. At the time the search for Agnes had still been fully active; the failure to find her was weighing on Johanna, though Emmrich could have told her months ago that she would not succeed in her pursuit. Perhaps, if Agnes had genuinely intended to betray the Mourn Watch by profiting from the sale of its secrets, there might have been a trail to follow. But Emmrich had been certain her only goal in departing the Mourn Watch had been to disappear entirely.

“Ah, yes, Emmrich. Come in. Close the door behind you.”

“Did you find something?” he asked, his voice both keen and fearful. “Is she—”

“About me?”

“Yes, you.” Johanna put both her elbows on the desk, folding her hands together, and gave him an unbearable look of concern. “How are you, Emmrich?"

“How am I?” he repeated, incredulous. Had she called him here to talk about his feelings? “I’m fine.”

Johanna hummed, looking at him skeptically. “Not sure I believe that, frankly. You have not been yourself, not since…” Johanna’s voice trailed off, reconsidering, but she did not need to say it. Not since Agnes left. Neither of them had spoken her name, and yet her ghost was just as present in the room, as material as the both of them. Johanna’s voice became gentler. “I thought perhaps you would like to take some time off. Visit your family’s estate in the countryside, before winter is upon us.”

Emmrich had not spent any real length of time with his family since he had joined the Mourn Watch. He did not think he would enjoy the curiosity and questions, the gossip his sudden reappearance after all this time would provoke. “You were thinking I could?” he asked, a barbed edge to his tone. He knew he was being surly; he could not help it. “Or you are insisting that I do?”

“Are you asking me if that’s an order?” Johanna asked, unable to hide her faint amusement. “Emmrich, I know you well enough by now to know that I could not force you to do anything you do not want to do yourself.” Again, an uncharacteristic edge of concern crept into her voice. “But I am worried about you. I’m not the only one.”

“Then leave me to my work,” Emmrich insisted. “It is what I am good at. What I am best at.” “Emmrich—”

He cut her off; he would say it more plainly, if he needed to. “It is the only time I do not feel utterly wretched,” he told her, emphatically. “It is the only time… the only time I am not thinking about it. When I am working. I need the work, Johanna. If I were to stop…”

If he were to stop, Emmrich feared it would break him. The agony he felt at her loss, at that terrible severance, was difficult enough to bear with the distraction of work. If he did not have his studies—if he were consigned to the Nevarran countryside for some tortuous, indefinite period, forced to politely sip tea with his sister and play lawn games and do nothing of interest or of use to anyone—the grief would open its jaws and swallow him whole.

For a moment, Emmrich feared Johanna would fight him. Certainly she had never shied from a confrontation in the past. But something in his face must have convinced her, because finally, she nodded.

“Very well,” she acquiesced. “But Emmrich—you are not alone. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” “You already have,” Emmrich told her, honestly. “You looked.” For different reasons, perhaps, than Emmrich’s, but they both wanted her to be found, and Johanna had done everything in her power to make it happen. “That she was so determined to vanish, that she left no trace… I do not hold you responsible for that.”

Without missing a beat, Johanna flung the question at him: “But you hold yourself responsible?”

Emmrich blinked at her, surprised she even had to ask. “Of course.”

‘It was my fault, all of it, from beginning to end. If it were not for me, she never would have come here; if it were not for how I treated her, she never would have left.’

“Oh, Emmrich.” The pity and the compassion in her voice—two traits Johanna often kept in reserve—were devastating to him. She rose from behind her desk, circled around it to his side. In a rare display of intimacy and warmth, she lay her hand down on his shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“If there is anything at all I can do—if you change your mind and want to take some time—please do not hesitate to let me know.”

That had been over a year ago. In the ensuing months, Emmrich had only retreated deeper into his work. He did resume taking his meals in the dining hall with the other Watchers, and made better efforts to keep himself as immaculately groomed as he had always been before. But these were hollow gestures, rituals performed out of the fear that if he did not improve, Johanna might change her mind and take things into her own hands, placing him on a forced leave of absence after all. At dinner, he no longer smiled or laughed as he once did. At night, when Myrna had left the study and returned to her own quarters, he sometimes found himself pulling out the special folio he had purchased for Agnes’ drawings, running his fingers over the fine linework and reminiscing. He felt himself becoming every bit as bitter and distant as his own father, and hated himself for it, but saw nothing he could do otherwise to stop it. To move through the world in any other way—to be present in it, to fully confront the totality of his loss and contend with it—would have been far too painful.

Even his partnership with Myrna was strained. She had been one of his dearest friends in the Mourn Watch before they had been assigned to work together. Now, Emmrich suspected there was a part of her that resented him. After what had happened with Agnes, Emmrich had, perhaps, overcorrected. His partnership with Myrna he was determined to keep formal, clinical, professional; although he would also begrudgingly admit that it was anything but professional that Myrna was often forced to bring him food from the kitchens out of the fear that Emmrich was inadvertently starving himself. They shared the study, but even when Emmrich was just across the room from Myrna, he was worlds away, easily distracted, lost in rumination and self-recrimination. Even when the study was full—Emmrich, Myrna and Manfred altogether, working busily alongside one another—the room still felt empty, an essential warmth missing.

“Hello? Emmrich? Emmrich!”

With a start, Myrna’s voice pulled him out of his morose reverie. Across the study, from where they were working in tandem on some alchemical concoction, Myrna and Manfred were both staring at him; Manfred with concern, Myrna with no small amount of impatience.

“Do you intend to answer that, or should I take your silence to mean that you expect myself or Manfred to do so on your behalf?”

‘Answer what…?’ Emmrich almost asked, but just then he heard Johanna’s voice, cast from the enchanted sending-stone set near the entrance of the study.

“Emmrich! Emmrich Volkarin! Are you going to answer me, or are you going to make me come down there myself?”

“Apologies, Myrna,” Emmrich answered, leaping up from his armchair and hastening to the crystal. “Lost in thought.”

He did not miss the soft, chididing, ‘as per usual’ that Myrna whispered under her breath, head bent conspiratorially with Manfred’s over their experiment.

Stepping over to the doorway, Emmrich touched his fingers to the yellow facets of the carved stone, gleaming with prisms of magical energy as they transmitted Johanna’s voice.

“Yes, Johanna, I am here.”

“Excellent,” Johanna’s voice replied, unusually quick to forgive the sloth with which he’d answered her call. “Would you please join me in the public parlors, please? With all haste…!” And with that, the sending stone grew clouded.

“She’s in a remarkably good mood,” Myrna commented from across the room. She had not failed to notice the odd sweetness in Johanna’s voice, rare to begin with but rarer still in the last few weeks. Of late, the disturbances in the Necropolis had reached a fever pitch, exceeding even the danger that they had experienced when the Breach had opened in the South ten years prior.

Emmrich had not missed it, either. “That cannot be a good thing,” he replied, with no small amount of trepidation.

“Eager as she is, it will be worse if you keep her waiting,” Myrna added, which was all the impetus Emmrich needed to get on his way.

But Johanna was not waiting for him in the public parlors. Curiously, she had posted herself up in the corridor leading in their direction. The past months had worn on her, aged her. Now, however—even from a distance—Emmrich could see that she was literally bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement, her hand clasped briskly behind her back. The Mourn Watch insignia gleaming white upon her breastplate matched the glint of her teeth, revealed by the too-pleased grin on her face.

Approaching her, he asked, “I thought you were going to meet me in the parlors?”

“Couldn’t resist.” Johanna’s grin widened. “You are not going to believe it. I didn’t believe it myself, when the docents came to tell me.”

“To tell you…?”

“Who was waiting for me,” Johanna replied, sweetly, “on the Necropolis steps.”

Johanna gestured for Emmrich to follow her, turning and leading him down the corridors, to the public parlors the Mourn Watch staged to receive visitors. “You recall, of course, how the lower levels of the Necropolis have devolved into a quite literal den of horrors after the sky opened up and started spitting out demons a few months ago?”

“It is impossible to forget,” Emmrich answered, cagily. What did that have to do with the visitor they were on their way to greet? And why was Johanna in such high spirits about it? Johanna was his friend, and it was good to see her happy, but he did not like the smug look of satisfaction on her face one bit—

“Guess who just showed up offering to help us with that particular problem.”

Emmrich’s mouth and throat went dry. “Who?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Johanna teased, giving an exaggerated, theatrical shrug. “Could it be, perhaps, one of the best Watchers I have ever had the pleasure of serving alongside? Perhaps even someone I proudly recruited myself?” Emmrich’s heart dropped into his stomach. ‘She cannot be saying—’ “Perhaps, someone you chased out of my guard over two years ago? But that would be crazy! What are the odds?”

The door to the public parlor was just coming into view around the curve of the hallway. From within, Emmrich could clearly hear a set of voices, raised in argument.

“Oooh,” Johanna said, furtively, “it sounds like the girls are fighting.”

“Johanna,” Emmrich said, fighting to keep his voice even, commanding. “Who is in there?”

Johanna only lifted an eyebrow at him, too self-satisfied, it seemed, to give him a straight answer. As they neared the entrance, the voices within the parlor became more distinct:

“…able to face the Elvhen God of Rebellion, but not your old boss?”

“…sounds like an appropriate division of labor! I brought you here, Lace. Now I’ll handle Fen’Harel, and you can deal with the Mourn Watch—”

Hot and cold all at once, mind blank and fuzzy, paralyzed with hope. Emmrich nearly tripped over his feet, forgetting how to walk, how to breathe as he reached for the doorknob. He knew that voice, he was sure of it—!

And if he had not been—if there was even the tiniest part of Emmrich that was not wholly confident of what he was about to find—it was not left to wonder long. Because as soon as she had thrown those words in response to whomever it was she was arguing with inside the parlor, Agnes had flung open the door.

Her eyes met his, and she froze like a stag, a prey animal trapped on the threshold between fight and flight. Emmrich could not think, could not breathe, possessed of but one beaming, brilliant thought: ‘It is her!’ Changed subtly by the two years she had been gone (the scar on her brow, the lines around her eyes) but still certainly Agnes, Agnes Gallatus, beloved , standing before him. He had given up hope. He had resigned himself to the belief that he would breathe his last with only the memory of her to comfort him. He wanted to laugh; he wanted to weep; he wanted to wrap his arms around her and draw her against him, press her body to his to be sure she was real. But the sight of her arrested him, elated him even as it threatened to asphyxiate him, and all he could do was stand dumbstruck before her, drinking in the sight of her.

It did not matter that she was unhappy to see him—and that was clear from a mere glance at her grey eyes. Irrelevant, too, that she had clearly been trying to sneak back out of the Necropolis and avoid this encounter entirely. All that mattered in that moment was that she was here, alive, in front of him. A gift he was certain he did not deserve. It felt so selfish to be happy, to be so pleased to see her here again. Perhaps he was just a selfish old man, after all. Emmrich fought the urge to fall to her feet, to wrap his arms around her calves so that she could not go until he finished debasing himself, begging for her forgiveness.

So tight was the ache in his chest, so loud the pounding of his blood, he could barely draw the breath required to speak her name. "Agnes?"

Grief and shame pulled at her face. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then favored him with a maddeningly neutral expression of defeat.

“Hello, Volkarin.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, only to be interrupted by one of the visitors seated in the parlor beyond the doorway.

“Whoa. Is it just me, or did the vibe in here get really weird all of a sudden?”

Over Agnes’ shoulder, Emmrich saw a red-headed dwarf deliver a chastening shove of her elbow to the tattooed elf beside her, hissing, “Bellara!”

Taking that as her cue, Johanna stepped around Emmrich, placing herself squarely between himself and Agnes in the doorway. Sickeningly sweet, she asked: “And no greeting for me, after all this time?”

At the sight of Johanna, Agnes’ face flushed red with shame. She dropped her eyes to the floor, acknowledged her with a respectful, dutiful dip of her head. “Hello, Commander Hezenkoss.”

“Watcher Gallatus!” Though her back was to him, Emmrich could tell from the tone of Johanna’s voice alone that she was favoring Agnes with the same smarmy grin she’d worn the whole journey down the hallway. “The prodigal daughter returns! I have to say, I was confident we had seen the last of you.” Pausing for dramatic effect, she then added, “I am going to be charitable, and assume we are not catching you thusly on the threshold because you were about to embark on yet another hasty departure.”

Johanna had her pegged; Agnes’ blush deepened, the distress on her face plain. “Of course not, Commander.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Gallatus,” Johanna told her, pleasantly. “Come. Let us sit.”

Agnes bowed her head once more, then backed into the room, retreating to the tufted red velvet sofa against the far wall. She sat at the leftmost edge, next to the Dalish elf—Bellara, Emmrich guessed. On Bellara’s opposite side sat the red-headed dwarf; Johanna dropped into the high back chair beside her, forcing Emmrich to assume the only remaining chair in the room—not two feet from where Agnes sat on the sofa, her posture painfully straight, looking like she was ready to bolt from the room at the first opportunity granted to her.

The parlor was dimly lit by a magnificent chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling, an artwork of wrought iron and pink glass that cast the room in a warm, rosy glow. As was customary, tea had been set out on the table for the guests, but it looked like only Bellara had welcomed herself to it. The elf anxiously passed her eyes between Johanna, Agnes, and Emmrich, then back to Agnes again; the awkwardness between them must have been painfully obvious.

“Hello, Commander Hezenkoss,” she chirped at last, raising a hand to wave, attempting to dispel the tension by the power of her cheer alone. “I’m Bellara Lutara, and this is Lace Harding,” she said, gesturing to the dwarf at her side; then, waving at Agnes, she added, “And of course, you already know Rook. It’s a delight to meet you! I love all the cute little skulls on your tea cups.”

“Rook?” Johanna said, grinning with interest, turning her eyes from Bellara back to Agnes. “What an enigmatic little moniker! No wonder we couldn’t find you, no matter how we searched.”

Not one to eschew decorum, however, she relieved Agnes at last of her scrutiny and turned back to Bellara. “It is a pleasure to meet you both, Bellara Lutara and Lace Harding. You have my deepest gratitude for whatever role you played in reuniting us with our dear Agnes once more.”

Bellara smiled back at Johanna, not quite in on the joke. “Oh, believe me, it took a lot of convincing—”

But Agnes’ hand closed over Bellara’s, squeezing firmly enough to turn her knuckles white, the unspoken directive in the gesture immediately obvious: ‘I am begging you to shut the fuck up . ’

Johanna’s grin only widened, to near cheshire-cat proportions. She leaned forward, pouring herself a cup of tea from the steaming kettle on the table. “The docent who admitted you told me the most fascinating rumor,” she said at last, her voice still in that pitch of near-sadistic sing-song delight. “That you have come looking for our help. That is, the help of the Mourn Watch Guard.”

“That’s not quite the whole story,” Lace said, shifting to sit on the edge of the couch, the better to meet Johanna’s gaze. “We aren’t here to hold our hands out, looking for charity. We want to help you, too. We’re a part of the Veilguard…”

Lace went on, but Emmrich was hardly paying any attention to their exchange. He could not help himself from stealing glances at Agnes—Rook?—out of the corner of his eye. She would not look at him—would not look at anyone. She had at last released Bellara’s hand and folded her own tightly in her lap, and she was staring at the floor, somewhere between her legs. Her legs! In all the years that he had known Agnes, Emmrich had never seen her wear anything but skirts. That she now wore trousers was the most shocking part of her transformation, far more so than the slight wrinkles in her face or the strands of white beginning to weave with the black of her hair. What had happened to her, in the two years that she had been gone? Had they reshaped her into a different person entirely?

“So let me make sure I am understanding correctly,” Johanna said at last, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair, looking directly at Agnes. “You, Agnes Gallatus, want to help me? Assist me, even? A prospect which was apparently unbearable, unthinkable to you two years ago? Maker, how things can change in time.” Then, sliding her eyes to Emmrich (having not failed to notice, he was sure, how he had been unable to keep his eyes off of Agnes since he had seen her) she added, with just as much dry humor, “And yet how many things stay the same. Wouldn’t you agree, Emmrich?”

For the first time since they’d nearly collided in the doorway, Agnes glanced at him, however briefly. Emmrich only locked his eyes on Johanna, praying that Agnes had not also caught him staring. He shrugged, made only a vaguely tortured, noncommittal noise in response.

Johanna turned back to the others. “Lace Harding, you do not know me, nor do you seem to be fully privy to the drama surrounding Watcher Gallatus’ dishonorable desertion from the Mourn Watch in the first place. So you do not understand the true depth of pleasure it would give me to tell you, Miss Lutara here, and your companion Rook to fuck right off and leave my city, and never return.”

Bellara blanched at Johanna’s language. For a brief moment, Agnes looked almost hopeful.

Then Johanna sighed, uncrossing her arms, leaning her elbows on the chair’s armrests and steepling her fingers. “That being said,” she continued, “I cannot deny that patrolling the Necropolis has been an absolute shit show for the last few months.” Johanna’s voice was sober, now, no teasing to be heard in it. “We have lost more Watchers to incidents in the Necropolis in three months than we have in three decades. Our ranks are thinning faster than we can replenish them by training new initiates. In short, we are in over our heads. I am many things, but I am not a fool; and no matter how spiteful I may be, I would not do something so foolish as to refuse help when it is freely offered and so desperately needed.”

“However,” Johanna said, lifting a hand to point up an emphatic finger (and here her voice took a turn for the sharper), “therein lies a dilemma. Because when it comes to you, Agnes Gallatus,” Johanna said, pinning Agnes under her gaze, “the trust has been broken. I am truly and utterly incapable of believing that you, or by extension your associates who are outsiders otherwise unknown to me, will conduct yourselves as instructed and keep me apprised of your progress. And yet, because of how completely fucked we are at the moment, and because of the unique position of leadership in which I find myself, I am truly and utterly incapable of carving out the time or the energy to keep a close eye on you myself.”

Emmrich’s heart had begun to pound against his ribs; he wondered if the rest of them could hear it, frantically beating like a dance drum.

Agnes was staring at Johanna, her jaw set. He saw by the muscles in her cheeks and her neck that she was grinding her teeth. A strained edge to her voice when she asked, “How do you propose we resolve that dilemma, Commander?”

And at that, the smug note returned to Johanna’s voice.

“Well, it just so happens I have a solution.”

And she extended her hand, palm up, to gesture at Emmrich.

“Johanna—” Agnes began to protest.

“Do not,” Johanna said, with a light and deeply unamused laugh, “‘Johanna’ me. We are not friends; we are not even colleagues. You saw to that.” Johanna took a deep breath, regaining control of her composure. Quietly, evenly, she explained: “A long time ago, I recruited you to the Mourn Watch to keep an eye on Emmrich, to make sure he did not get himself into any sort of trouble he couldn’t get himself out of. Emmrich, it is now your chance to return the favor. Is that acceptable to you?”

Immediately it was clear to Emmrich that Johanna had planned this all along, from the moment she had called him down from the study by the sending crystal. That she thought herself terribly clever, pairing the two of them off, making them each other’s problem and no one else’s. As for what he thought of it himself, Emmrich could not say. He could barely wrap his head around the reality that Agnes was here, beside him; the idea of descending with her into the Necropolis again after all of this time was almost too much to fathom.

Taking care to use her new chosen name, Emmrich answered, “I am not confident it is acceptable to Rook.”

Without missing a beat, Johanna snapped right back, “Well Rook and her friends will have to stomach it, because those are the terms.” Then, with a malicious gleam in her eye, Johanna turned to Agnes. “Or if you prefer, I can call Watcher Rolf down here to accompany you instead…?”

For a minute Emmrich thought Agnes was actually considering it. She was not looking at him, but he could see the wheels turning in her head, just the same. Weighing the options. How deeply it cut him! The thought that even after two years, her anger with him was still so fresh that she would prefer the company of a man Emmrich knew well she found to be an intolerable dullard to having to spend even a moment longer with Emmrich himself. Emmrich was not a fool. He did not think for a minute that after all this time and everything he had done to obliterate the bond between them, that any part of Agnes still loved him. Perhaps it was bold of him to hope that she would tolerate him, even just for a few days. But what a blessing it would be! What a pleasure, to discover what sort of woman she had grown into while she had been away from him—even if the years had hardened her into someone who could never forgive him. He did not deserve it. Selfishly, holding his breath, still he hoped for it.

At last, ever so slightly, Agnes dipped her head in Johanna’s direction.

“Thank you, Commander Hezenkoss. Watcher Volkarin will be an acceptable escort.”

#emmrich volkarin #dragon age emmrich #emmrich the necromancer #emmrich volkahrin #emmrook #rookarin #dragon age: the veil guard #fanfic #last one for this series :)

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 years ago

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Hello, my request is with the theme of the daughter of Leviathan and Behemoth. Even with Poseidon, Shiva (with Parvati, Kali and Durga, of course) and Buddha.

Let's say her dragon bride was in scaling season, and she went far away, hiding even from her older brother Ziz.

She didn't want to let anyone see her, since all her scales fall off and grow fast, the problem is that her new scales are transparent and very soft.

Also, she often gathers her old scales to throw into a volcano, where humans near it discovered that the soil made crops grow faster.

So this is about her dragon bride trying to commit the perfect crime to wipe out the mountain of old scales shiny like diamonds, while her tail is full of scales that look like super soft dumplings.

-You could only stare down in horror after you woke up, finding scales littering your bed.

-Your eyes darted frantically to the calendar in your room, and you gawked, you were almost four full weeks early!!

-Every other year, your scales shed, falling off to make new scales, ones that are harder and stronger, but it was always on time, give or take a day or so, nothing like this!!

-Ziz knocked on your door, as he had heard you yelp out when you saw the scales, “Y/N, are you okay?” as if you were moving at light speed to were at the door, keeping it shut, “I’m fine! Don’t come in!”

-Your brother instantly grew concerned, hearing your frantic and panicked tone, trying to force his way in, “Y/N what’s wrong? What happened?!” the two of you were in a tug-of-war with the door.

-He finally relented, sighing deeply as he didn’t want to upset you, “Just tell me these, are you okay?” you hesitate for a moment before answer, “I will be soon! I’m going out! Don’t look for me!”

-Ziz instantly nodded, now knowing what was going on, you were molting, you had always been very private about that, when your scales would fall off, finding it embarrassing, even though he wasn’t bothered, as you’ve seen him molting his feathers plenty of times.

-Despite ‘never’ looking for you, Ziz knew exactly where you were going, as it was the same place you always went to, a large volcano that has only erupted twice in the past five thousand year, it’s always active, but is quiet.

-You went there to destroy the evidence of your shedding, throwing the scales into the volcano and you would relax there by the warmth while your new scales grew in.

-Your shed scales looked like opal, sparkling in a rainbow of colors in the sunlight, and as hard as diamonds, while the new scales growing in were transparent and soft like dumplings

-You were vulnerable during this time, which is why you hid, you’ve never been attacked, but Ziz always told you when you did shed, to hide away to protect yourself.

-You were surprised when you arrived at the volcano, finding a thriving farming civilization of humans now there, you didn’t approach, only flying up to the top and dumped in the scales you had at the moment.

-You laid down on the top lip of the caldera, a soft sigh escaping you as you basked in the warmth, soft purrs leaving you in content.

-Your mind then started to race, trying to figure out why you were so early before your mind drifted to your lover, who had been courting you for a while and your eyes widened, remembering reading somewhere in the libraries around Valhalla, that if a sudden change in a lifestyle happened, it could throw your body out of whack!

-He’s been courting you for a few months now, but here recently is when you started to get more physically affectionate, kissing, cuddling, and spending the night with him, which for you, is something totally new for you!

-You sagged against the ground beneath you, feeling a bit annoyed, but at the same time you felt sad that you didn’t get a chance to tell your lover where you were going, and this process took at least a week!

-You could only hope Ziz would tell him when he came looking for you.

-Your attention then went to the valley below you, your tail flicking around as you saw the massive farms that seemed to be flourishing with all sorts of crops.

-This village wasn’t here the last time you came to the volcano but you were pleased to see that they were surviving without having to struggle.

-While you didn’t really care about humans, you didn’t like seeing other struggle.

-You failed to hear the footsteps coming up behind you until a voice spoke, “What happened to your scales?”

-You instantly turned, teeth pulled back in a snarl, claws out and tail thrashing behind you, to defend yourself before your eyes widened, seeing your lover.

-Poseidon- You instantly flushed, trying to backpedal, “What are you doing here? Don’t look at me!” he wasn’t bothered by your anger or your embarrassment, stabbing his trident into the before approaching you and instantly wrapping his arms around you. He was surprised to feel your new scales were soft, almost jelly like before he pressed his lips against your cheek, how he normally greeted you. You had been struggling to get out of his embrace until he kissed you and you calmed, your hands on his chest before he pressed his forehead against your own, “Are you alright?” you nodded, not meeting his gaze as your face was bright red before he sat down with you in his lap, stroking your hair with one hand while the other ran across your scales gently. Poseidon didn’t tease you for shying away and trying to hide, as he knew the process was something healthy, to make new scales, mermaids went through something similar every few years so it was nothing new. His acceptance to this did relax you, leaning your head down on his shoulder as he hugged you, “I would say stay with me the next time this happens, but I think those humans are grateful for your assistance?” your confusion made him smile lightly, pressing a kiss into your hair, “Those scales of your, combined with the volcanic soil, makes for very fertile soil.” Your eyes widened at this, sparkling up at him, “Really?!” That was a day you would always remember, when you made the mighty, stoic Poseidon, laugh.

-Shiva- Your eyes widened, seeing not only Shiva, but Parvati, Kali, and Durga there as well, all looking at you with wide eyes, concern on their faces. Your face quickly flushed before you turned to run but Shiva easily caught you, pulling you back into his arms as you struggled, “No let go! I don’t want you to see me like this!” Parvati quickly took your hand in hers, halting you as you didn’t want to accidentally scratch her before Shiva spoke, speaking quietly into your ear, his breath tickling you, “Y/N, it’s fine. Calm down.” You let out a small whimper as he sat down with you in his arms and let his wives dote on you, Kali brushing your tears away from your cheeks while Durga spoke, “Do you normally shed like this?” you nodded, not really meeting their eyes, still feeling a bit shy, but Parvati cupped your cheeks, making you look at her, “Then it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Y/N. We love you for you, and if this is something that normally happens, then we want you to trust us with this. If you want to hide, hide with us!” she ended her statement with a smile which did make you feel better before you squeaked, a shivering running up your spine as Kali and Shiva were stroking the new scales on your tail, Shiva in awe, “They’re so soft! They harden over time right?” you nodded, “After about a week or so.” One of your scales fell off and Durga inspected it, holding it up, “Hmm, if you’re throwing these in, that would explain why the soil in the area is so rich. The calcium in your scales paired with the volcanic soil is very powerful fertilizer!” you were completely blank, not realizing this and you were quickly blushing, pouting as you looked away from your laughing lovers as Shiva hugged you close, pressing his lips against your cheek, nuzzling softly, but it did make you feel so happy that they were so accepting.

-Buddha- Buddha immediately lunged, as he knew you were going to try and run and he caught you, hugging you close to him, your back in his chest. You were trying to get free, but he wouldn’t let you, easily turning you before he kissed you deeply, stunning you but quickly your eyes went hazy. He pulled back, pressing his forehead against your own, his beautiful blue eyes piercing into your over his glasses, “I’m happy I found you. You didn’t tell me you were going to an island for a vacation!” you tried to find humor in his words, but when he noticed you didn’t smile, he squeezed you close, making you rest your head on his chest, to hear his heartbeat, “It’s okay, Y/N. I figured it would happen sooner or later, since you have scales.” You squeaked, pulling back in shock, your eyes wide, like this was news to you before you turned bright red, hugging him around his neck as he laughed loudly, ignoring your pouting. A shiver ran up your spine as his large hands stroked along your tail, feeling new the scales, “It feels like marshmallows!” you giggled lightly as he always seemed to compare everything with sweets or snacks and seeing you smile made him smile and he sat with you, enjoying the warmth from the volcano. He was soon laughing again at your stunned face when he told you that your scales were what was helping the soil down below, as you had no idea, you were just trying to get rid of the evidence!!

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror sh #ror buddha

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clangenrising · 1 year ago

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Month 6 - Greenleaf

“He just abandoned the kid!” Yarrowshade cried, tail lashing as he paced. “I can’t believe him!” Crouched near the river, Goldenstar winced sympathetically. Yarrowshade had been furious since yesterday and she could see why. The news of Toadpaw’s capture had been jarring to say the least and he and Russetfrond had never gotten along very well in the first place.

Turning her gaze back to the water, searching for a flicker of scales under the surface, she said, “I’m sure he did what he thought was necessary.”

She thought back to the assessment they had taken together as apprentices where their mentors sent them to investigate a ‘missing patrol’. She, Russetpaw, and his sister Heatherpaw had discovered his mentor, Darkrush, ‘wounded’ in a set of tunnels. Before they could figure out what had happened, Sunstar (Sunblaze at the time) had descended on them pretending to be a fox. Russetpaw had made the choice to abandon Darkrush in favor of falling back to set a proper ambush for the fox in the next chamber and Goldenpaw had felt terribly about it, even though no one was actually hurt. That had been around the time her crush on him had started to fade, she recalled.

She twitched her whiskers and forced her vision to refocus on the water. A second too late her paw flashed into the water, just missing the little silver fish she had been aiming for.

“Mouse-dung!” she hissed under her breath and stood, deciding to move to a different spot on the shore.

“Just because he thought it was necessary doesn’t mean it was right,” Yarrowshade grumbled, kicking a stone. It clattered along the pebbled strand. A few tail lengths away, Scorchplume’s face parted the grass as she poked her head out to scowl at them.

“Do you think you could gripe louder?” she huffed, “maybe then you can scare off the deaf mice too.”

“Sorry, Scorch,” Yarrowshade’s ears wilted.

Scorch shook her head and slunk out of the grass to come stand within a more conversational distance. “Look, I can settle this once and for all. Did you see the trap this Toadpaw got stuck in?”

��No,” Yarrowshade shook his head, “but Russetfrond said it was made of cold silver lines that were as thick as a mouse’s tail and stronger than stone.” Goldenstar shuddered again at the thought. What a strange and frightening thing. Once again, she found it hard to focus on the river over the conversation behind her.

“Then your Russetfrond was right,” Scorchplume said matter of factly, causing Yarrowshade’s brow to furrow deeply. “Those traps are specifically made to catch cats. Once you’ve triggered them there’s no way out. Sometimes if you’re fast you can get caught under the door and wiggle your way out but you’re more likely to lose the fur on your tail.” She shrugged as if that was that. Yarrowshade definitely wasn’t satisfied.

“But there must have been something we could have done!” he protested. “The twolegs can open them easy enough, there has to be a way.”

“Sure,” Scorch laughed, sitting down with a swish of her ginger tail. “Once you grow those long twoleg toes let me know and I’ll show you how to get the traps open. I’m telling you, beebrain, unless you have a couple hours to try and flip it over, you don’t have a chance.”

“Have you seen many of them?” Goldenstar asked curiously, looking over her shoulder, all pretense of fishing abandoned.

“A good amount,” she nodded, casting her cool gaze in Goldenstar’s direction. “There are plenty of them in the city. You have to get good at spotting them if you don’t want to get caught and altered.”

“Altered?” Yarrowshade asked, still frowning.

“Yeah,” Scorch shrugged. “You know, notched? Fixed? Emptied?” Both Yarrowshade and Goldenstar stared without recognition for a moment. Scorchplume sighed. “They make you sleep and when you wake up your bits are gone and your ear is notched. After that you can’t have kits. Do you guys really not know about that?”

“Oh,” Goldenstar said, “We call it going to the cutter. I’d never heard of them notching your ear though. Why would they do that?”

“Apparently it’s a mark of shame,” Scorchplume rolled her eyes, seemingly not convinced of her own explanation. “To show the world you’re unworthy of their love. House cats that get altered don’t have their ears notched.”

“Weird,” Yarrowshade screwed his mouth to the side, eyes drifting to the ground in thought. Goldenstar had to agree with him. Seemed to her that a twoleg deciding they didn’t want to keep you was a blessing, not a curse.

“The point is,” Scorchplume said haughtily, “Your Russetfrond was right. There was nothing they could have done for the kid. Better him than the rest of them.”

“But that’s so cold hearted!” Yarrowshade protested again.

“Maybe,” Scorch shrugged, “but that’s life. You either look out for yourself or you get killed.”

“Not here,” Yarrowshade glared, not necessarily at her but at her words. “Here we look out for each other. I would gladly die for my Clan.”

“Alright, you have fun with that,” Scorchplume scoffed and Goldenstar noticed her squirming slightly. She frowned.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Goldenstar said, crossing to brush her tail against his leg. “But sometimes getting killed only means one more grave to dig. I think we could stand to remember that.”

Scorch smiled slightly and blinked slowly in her direction. “Well said, your excellence.”

“I guess,” sighed Yarrowshade. “I’m just tired of losing cats and being powerless to stop it.” Sullenly, he nudged another stone with his toe. Goldenstar leaned her head against his shoulder and purred sympathetically.

“I know,” she sighed. “Me too.”

Scorchplume watched them for a beat and Goldenstar caught a small glimpse of a twinge in her throat and something distant and choked and forlorn inside her gaze. It made her want to reach out but knew the other she-cat would probably be uncomfortable with sudden physical contact.

“Well, I’m probably going to head back to camp,” Scorchplume said eventually. “All the prey around here has probably gone to ground for a good while.”

“I think I’ll join you,” winced Goldenstar. “I can’t seem to focus on anything. What do you think, Yarrowshade? I’d say a nap is in order.”

“Yeah, alright,” he shrugged. “I’ll see if I can go out with Pantherhaze after sundown and recoup our losses.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Goldenstar said. Flicking her tail in Scorchplume’s direction, she started the trip back to camp.

~~~

As they neared the ridge, Russetfrond and Branchbark passed by them, likely getting an early start on the dusk patrol. Goldenstar faltered in her step at the sight of him.

“Everything alright?” Scorchplume asked softly, eyes flickering from her to Russetfrond.

“Yeah,” Goldenstar nodded. “I’ll catch up with you.” Scorch dipped her head graciously and slid up beside Yarrowshade, almost hiding from Russetfrond’s subtle glare in his shadow.

“Ignore him,” Yarrowshade said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s just jealous.”

Russetfrond scoffed but the ginger cats were already too far gone for him to give a proper retort. His eyes caught on Goldenstar as he focused on the path ahead and he frowned.

“Hey,” she said, throat suddenly tight. “Have a moment?”

“I suppose I could spare one,” he said, sounding artificially cold. When did he start hating me? Goldenstar wondered. Branchbark shuffled awkwardly, glancing quickly between the two of them.

“Should I…” he trailed off, tail tip starting to twitch.

“No, you’re alright,” Goldenstar smiled, then said to Russetfrond, “I just wanted to say I think you did the right thing yesterday.”

“Oh?” he asked, one brow lifting.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thank you for making the tough call. I know that must not have been easy.”

Russetfrond nodded. “I’m glad you understand.”

Goldenstar’s stomach fluttered hopefully. “That’s all. Good luck on patrol.”

“You too,” Russetfrond said automatically. She bobbed her head and slipped past him. Maybe things between them weren’t so bad after all.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Goldenstar #Yarrowshade #Scorchplume #Russetfrond #clangenrising

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pendragon-of-chaos · 1 year ago

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If requests are open can i request NNT Arthur and a vigilante (I believe is the word not sure) s/o who helps protect the town people secretly and maybe one night they randomly bump into each other on the way home and Arthur’s starts getting suspicious on what’s going on thank you and have a nice day!

I started this as a small scenario but it ended up being a little longer than the usual ones. I also thought I wouldn't be able to write something that pleased me, but I think it ended being better than what I thought. Hope you like it!

Small scenario: Arthur Pendragon with a fem!secret vigilante S/O:

"Have you heard the rumours about that one vigilante??? Who do you think they are? I wish I could talk to them some day, they seem soooo cool! Maybe I should be a vigilante too... Well, I am already a knight, but having a secret identity sounds fun too! What do you think??"

It was a sunny morning. Arthur and Y/N were enjoying a break eating some sweets, sitting on a table while talking about the latest news.

"I've heard about it. Seems like they are already quite popular within Camelot, aren't they?"

"Indeed! Specially within the knights. I've heard they are placing bets on who is the one behind that mask"

"Really? And who do they think is the responsible of all this?"

"There are different opinions, no one seems to agree with just one, so I can't really speak for them." Arthur shrugged his shoulders while taking one of the freshly baked buns on the table in front of him. "As for me, I don't agree with them either. I don't know, but my instinct says that the responsible isn't one of the knights... It's just a feeling". He took a bite and smiled at (Y/N) "If you ever have any clue you must tell me, ok?"

"Of course, I'll do my best to help you discover the secret identity of that vigilante, don't worry"

----

"His instincts sure are good" - (Y/N) sighed deeply, looking at the dark streets from the top of a poorly illuminated roof, making sure no one could see her - "I'm careful enough to not leave behind any sort of information that could uncover me and he still reaches that conclusion; guess I'll need to be even more cautious just in case..."

She looked back to the streets for a couple minutes, until a suspicious acting shadow figure entered an alley in between some houses. It emerged from time to time, looking to both sides of the street, and hiding again; until a pair of drunk men made their way past the entrance

"What a good night huh?" - The shadow appeared behind them. It looked like a big strong man by his silhouette. Not that his strength mattered versus those two people which weren't even able to mantain their balance, even less when he pulled out of his coat a bright dagger - "Now, give me all you got in your pockets if you don't want to end up worse than you already are"

Overcome by panic, the two men leaned on each other trying to not fall down, clumsily looking for their pockets and throwing everything their hands touched in them

"Y-Yeah sir, just leave us alone damn it! We didn't do anything"

"Just make sure to shut your mouth about this. You went home with no money because you spent it all on drinking, right?" Laughing, the robber walked towards them in an intimidating way - "Get out of my sight, scumb-AGH"

He turned around quickly, hand in his nape, rubbing to ease the pain of the sudden hit which came out of nowhere. In front of him, another figure covered in black stood still

"Going for the easy targets I see. Such a shame that you wasted your time waiting for them to pass by, I've seen it all". A pair of hands appeared under the cloack, ready to take care of the criminal in front of them

He wasted no time and, knife in hand, lunged towards (Y/N), who didn't move an inch. She was ready to counter attack, until a few feet away from her he appeared, behind the criminal, in less than the blink of an eye.

"I got him!"

A familiar orange-haired boy stopped the attack by skillfully positioning his sword blade near the criminal's neck in one second, and then disarmed him in the next one, sheathing his sword and laying him on the ground

"Arthur! I can-!!!" (Y/N) shut her mouth while everything happened. If she talked more than neccesary Arthur would discover her. She was also impressed with his abilities. She had seen him training but never using his skills in a real situation. The king looked back at her, still restraining his hands behind his back

"We'll take him to the castle's dungeons for the night and tomorrow morning the knights will take care of him. I'll gladly accept yor help with this task"

(Y/N) nodded in afirmation, and with a simple hand movement a pair of handcuffs appeared on the criminal's wrists.

"Much better!" - Smiling, Arthur got up from him, helping him to stand up - "Now let's head to the castle"

He looked back to were (Y/N) was standing, inviting her to come with him, but there was nobody to be seen there.

----

It was morning once again. (Y/N) was sitting at the table as she always does, having breakfast, when she heard the doors opening

"Hey hey, I've got something to tell you!"

Arthur took a sit next to her quickly, smiling excited to talk with her.

"Hmm? What is it Arthur?"

"I crossed paths yesterday night with the vigilante!"

"Oh really?" - (Y/N) put on her best confused face to not arouse any more suspicions - "How did you even manage to find them? What did exactly happen?"

"I went outside the kingdom yesterday, searching for some materials that Merlin asked me to find. It was more difficult than what I thought so I returned to Camelot late at night. While I was walking down the street I saw how a man tried to rob other two, and then the vigilante appeared to help them. But as a King I can't stand idly by when something like this happens, that's why I went to help them too! It was pretty easy, and I hoped I could talk to them after having the situation controlled, but they disappeared when I wasn't looking"

"Wow... I'm happy for you, but it sounds like in the end you didn't get to know who was behind the mask"

"I guess so, but at least now I have new clues. Listen, I think that the secret vigilante must be near our age judging by its appearance and movements, and they also know how to use magic. That reduces the number of potential people by a lot... Oh! And by their voice I think it might be a woman? But everything happened so fast, I'm not even sure. If I had a few more minutes I'm sure I could have gotten more information"

"Just a few seconds and he got all of that from me" (Y/N) thought to herself - "That's a lot considering you said everything happened fast"

"Right..." - Arthur looked directly at (Y/N) for a few seconds - "one more thing, didn't Merlin show you some time ago those magical spheres that makes you disappear if you use them?"

"...Are you insinuating that I am the vigilante?"

"Just a possibility, my instinct tells me you might know more than you tell me"

#nanatsu no taizai #arthur nnt #nnt arthur #nnt arthur x reader #arthur nnt x reader #seven deadly sins x reader #sevendeadlysins

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mamichigo · 2 years ago

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It wasn't falling in love that surprised Alhaitham; all the tell-tale signs had been there: the increased interest in the General Mahamatra, the disquiet that would only go away when Cyno looked at him, the need to talk to him (about anything, about nothing at all).

So, no, falling in love wasn't the problem. Alhaitham wasn't so out of tune with his own emotions not to see it coming. It was the intensity of it that bewildered him. Never had his heart pounded so loud he couldn't hear the conversations around him—not until Cyno placed a subtle, soft hand on the inside of his wrist, and looked up at him with all the seriousness befitting the General Mahamatra.

"I need to talk to you. In private," he had said.

For all of two seconds, Alhaitham had been lost in the candlelight reflected in Cyno's eyes. No amount of berating himself for sounding like Kaveh had worked in erasing the image of Cyno in that moment from his mind.

He didn't do this kind of thing: the overwhelming, overpowering rush of emotion. The sweaty palms, the itch under his skin that wouldn't go away unless he reached out and touched, the less than rational impulses.

Alhaitham prided himself in his skill to debate, to always add something to the conversation. And yet, he found himself speechless, completely disarmed by a laugh—barely that, even. A quiet chuckle, hidden behind a hand. He forgot what Paimon had said, forgot his own rebuttal. His mind was eclipsed by the mirthful upturn of Cyno's mouth.

It was ridiculous. Alhaitham was sure most people wouldn't even believe him, if he were to share his experience. And it was fascinating, to discover there was a side of himself he never knew of until then. Therefore, Alhaitham decided he needed more data. A few tests were in order, he thought with finality.

It wasn't hard to find the General these days. They worked much more closely now, under the Dendro Archon's guidance. All Alhaitham needed to do was to subtly conduct his research during their meetings. It was relatively easy, too. Small touches would do.

A slight brush of their hands resulted in an unintended twitch of his entire arm. Pressing their shoulders together as they stood side by side made his body run hotter. Noticing Cyno's bangs over his eye increased the desire to come closer, that urgency to feel Cyno's skin. Succumbing to that desire and brushing his bangs aside settled something in his chest—in one particular occasion, he exhaled deeply, muscles finally relaxing.

There were other things, too, when Cyno wasn't around. The smell of ozone during thunderstorms that made him ache. The way his eyes would roam while he strolled Treasures Street, catching on red gems, on TCG cards he'd never looked at twice before. Or even the 3 minutes he wasted standing around when he was supposed to be grocery shopping. He had looked at this and that fruit, and wondered which one Cyno would've preferred, although the General had never been over for a meal.

Alhaitham cataloged each reaction, each new discovery, all the ways to desire a single person. Emotions he thought were absent in him.

As he fast-walked to the General Mahamatra's office—knowing Cyno was bound to return from a mission in a bit—he wondered if love was like this, for everyone else. And as his stomach churned with unnecessary anxiety, Alhaitham wasn't sure if he liked it, either.

But even that thought was gone as soon as he heard Cyno's footsteps, saw the long ears atop his robe. As their eyes crossed, Cyno faltered (just barely, a simple twitch of his eyes, his mouth parting—Alhaitham had grown attuned to every little change of Cyno's expression).

"Alhaitham," he greeted, after a moment. "What are you doing here?"

He could see the alert way Cyno checked their surroundings. He thought this was urgent, work-related. Alhaitham almost laughed, chest growing light with fondness (and that was new as well).

"Just thought I'd check if your mission went as expected."

It wasn't reason enough, nor a good one. Alhaitham had nothing to do with whatever business the General Mahamatra had been taking care of. Cyno knew as well as himself that Alhaitham never bothered with issues outside of his own interest.

But, as it turned out, Cyno was within the scope of said interests now, which was exactly why he had rushed to see him as soon as he returned. Cyno couldn't possibly know any of that, and yet realization sparked in his eyes—quickly gone as uncertainty took its place. He checked their surroundings again, then stepped closer.

"Alhaitham," his voice was a soft whisper, "I'm sorry if I understood you wrong, but—"

He stopped, bit his lower lip. Alhaitham traced the indents with his eyes, feeling feverish all of a sudden.

"Do you have feelings for me?" Cyno said in one breath.

He looked nervous, yes, but open. Expectant.

In half a second, Alhaitham counted the signals like old friends: quickened pulse, shortness of breath, sweat gathering at his palms and the back of his neck. Cyno's red eyes glinting as he looked only at him.

As it turned out, he was no less foolish than any other person in love. He kissed him.

And for that infinite moment, his mind remained blissfully blank.

#alhaitham #cyno #cytham #haino #genshin impact #drabbles #my writing

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swearyshera · 2 years ago

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I’m sorry what??? You have a furry ex who (tried to?) committed murder?! Alice you can’t just share things like that and not give us the full story

Oh, there is the most batshit crazy story behind it. I'll stick it under the cut because it has next to nothing to do with the blog (other than to provide partial explanation as to why I'm like this). Cw for murder and horrifying sexual acts.

I'll also say, just before I start, that some of you may be aware of this - may even be aware of my involvement - so I'd ask you not to talk about me in relation to it too much. I've changed a few things about myself (including my name) to try and ensure a clean break from it, but I'm happy to talk about it still.

So... Cast your mind back to autumn 2008. At that time, a sprightly young 20-year-old me met a 19-year-old guy that we will call Steve (that's not his real name). Now, being woefully naïve and having at-the-time undiagnosed BPD, I was the sort of person who would fall deeply in love with anyone who showed me the slightest bit of kindness, and Steve did. He seemed caring, had a wild sense of humour, and genuinely appeared to love me back.

And what that did to me was that it made me ignore an entire truckload of red flags. His house was one level above a squat, bare floorboards and windows, no heating ("We can just snuggle under a blanket and share body heat") and I'm pretty sure he spent more money on beer and DVDs than he did on food. But I didn't seem to give a shit, those rose-tinted glasses were stuck firmly on, so I just ignored that stuff. There was worse, too, things that I felt a little uncomfortable with at the time and only realised years later were... well, let's just say I'd implore everyone to be able to identify what consent does and doesn't look like, because it's not always clear when you don't know for sure.

Anyhow, we'd been together about 4 or 5 months. He spent Christmas with me because he had no family to go to, I visited his house, played the "slightly bemused partner at the furry meet-up" role a couple of times, and things (at least to me) seemed to be great. Then one weekend in February, he mentioned that he was going to see some friends - absolutely fine by me, he did that fairly often and I didn't think anything of it. I texted him in the evening asking him how his day was, and he replied "Had a good day, but didn't go meet them".

That was the last message I got.

I didn't hear from him for the rest of the evening. Or the day after. Or the day after that. I got worried, because it wasn't like him to go silent - he wasn't even online on MSN (2000s reference!). And then I got a message from his aunty asking if I'd heard from him - that rang alarm bells. I reached out to a few of the people he knew, and no-one had heard a thing.

He'd been 'missing' for about a week and a half when I got another message from his aunty. She asked me if I knew a guy called Craig (again, not his real name), and I didn't. Then she asked me something that I can still remember verbatim to this day, she said "Do you have a loving family? You're going to need them, I'm sorry." and sent me a link to a news article. I clicked through to find a story in a local newspaper about two men being held for attempted murder. One of them was Steve.

The next few months flashed by as I found my belief about who he was completely trashed and flipped upside down. I discovered he'd been seeing multiple people behind my back, including this Craig guy, and I tried to find out what had happened, and what eventually came out was a completely other life that I didn't know about. I spoke to the Police about him, and was expecting to speak as a witness at the trial (in the end, thankfully, I did not have to do that). But the reality of what happened was fucking wild.

Steve and Craig had developed some weird-ass master/pet relationship, which led to 'role play' about killing Craig's parents. Craig felt that they were controlling and he'd only get peace if they were gone. In the trial, Steve testified that he thought it was not serious, although if that was the case, why did you fucking do it. On the night he sent the last message to me, he had been at Craig's house, made a show of saying goodbye to him and his parents, then waited in a nearby park. He played a game on his PSP to pass the time.

Later in the evening, once his parents had gone to bed, Craig texted Steve to invite him back in. Once he'd arrived, he was handed a knife and told to go upstairs and stab them which for some fucking reason he agreed to. Now Craig's dad was thankfully on the ball and wasn't quite asleep, and he fought off Steve and wrestled the knife from him, before restraining him and calling the police. Initially, Craig was thought to be an innocent bystander, but he was soon arrested too. Steve was charged with attempted murder and conspiracy to murder, Craig with conspiracy, and in court, both were convicted of conspiracy to murder (but cleared of the attempted murder charge).

If you think it doesn't get more fucked-up than that, boy, do I have a surprise for you. Imagine someone's asked you to commit murder - you'd want something in return, right? And indeed, Craig did offer Steve something. What, you ask? Money? A means of escape? Nope! For successfully killing Craig's parents, Steve would have the opportunity to bite off Craig's dick. I am not joking. If he stabbed some middle-aged people, he would get a fucking sausage sandwich.

So yeah... that's what happened. My life has been an absolute soap opera (although honestly, this seems a bit far-fetched even for that - but I swear to you, every word of it is true).

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le-panda-chocovore · 9 months ago

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Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "le-panda-chocovore "?

Oh I think I can actually answer that without rambling too much !! (<- took an entire week to answer the ask and select the fics, and I commented on each one of them lol) It won't be a Top in order of preference tho, there's no actual classment, it's just the ones I loved the most.

The Way I Behaved - EraserMic (MHA)

This fanfic gave me the inspiration to write my greatest work (still unfinished to this day) and literally changed so many things about me. It also made me discover a whole genre of music that I've never listened to before and with which I am entirely in love now. Prepare to cry tho, because this is deeply heartbreaking. It's a Villain Mic AU where Aizawa was never a teacher. And it is good.

What if Percy did become a God - Percy Jackson and the Olympians (based on the books !!! do not read if you just watched the show !!!)

The title says everything. This is not a happy story, you will cry, I promise. It's short, like a 1k word OS, it's really poetic, it's deep, it's beautiful, and also, it's painful. Humans were never meant to be gods, not even Percy. It's written like a poem, I read it so many times and it hurt me every time.

Demon and Angel Professors - Ineffable Spouses (Good Omens)

Not a fanfiction but a serie of short works about Crowley and Aziraphale and the people around them. A teachers AU very nice to read with many Original Characters (the students) who are all captivating and appreciable. The story is extremely queer-positive and neurodivergent inclusive and physical handicap representative, honestly, you want to read it. There's everything inside it. If you have chronic pain or if you're a closeted queer or even a curious ally who wants to understand their peers, this is what you need. The love is so pure it's overwhelming.

Honor and Vengeance on the High Sea - Zuko (ATLA)

Tbh this deserves to be published, it's a novel itself (I haven't finished it yet). The author reappropriated the Avatar universe to write something completely new. It's an AU where Zuko becomes a Pirate after his banishment and fights against the Fire Nation Navy, and eventually joins the Avatar's team. There's a whole work around internalized homophobia, the discovery of the self, acceptance, injustice, family trauma and everything. Original Characters are cool too. Chapters are long and very, very complete, you can see the author has historical and cultural knowledge.

Strength, the meaning of - Asano Gakuhou (Assassination Classroom)

I can't believe a fanfic about this total asshole made it to my top 10, but it is beautifully written. The progressive mental breakdown of a man who used to stand proud above everyone, the slow fall down to hell without even realizing it. There's also his son's POV here, which is equally beautifully written. I really hate the man and I don't like the fact that the end of AssClass completely disregard the consequences of what happened on the character's mental state, and reading how even him wasn't okay at all is very pleasant to read. That's karma my bitch.

Je suis assis - BokuAka (Haikyuu)

Yeah it's in french and on wattpad. It has been a while since I read it but I still remember the principal. It's a OS anyway so it's not very long (we didn't do that 20k words OS on Wattpad, this madness is only popular on AO3 lol). Since I'm sensitive to everything that is around handicap, it touched me. It ended up being cute and warm. Honestly I was more thinking of another BokuAka fanfiction but I couldn't remember the name nor found it online so I put this one.

25 - Riren (SnK)

Yeah yeah I know, pedo ship etc, but I was 14 and this is a High School AU where they're both 16 so, it's okay I guess. Yes the name of the fanfic is twenty-five. It's in french, it's on wattpad, and there's Eren's POV too. I don't know how I'm supposed to describe it... I think you have to read it, it's not actually strange or weird but, it's a whole experience.

Here there be dragons - Centennial Husbands (the Sandman)

This is the exact definition of love. What is love to me ? This fanfiction. Engagement, devotion, caring, this is it, this fanfic has the meaning of all these words. I had a hard time reading it because I hate ultra-long OS (I need CHAPTERS, give me a BREAK) but it was soooo enjoyable, and I was crying the whole time 'cause it's so pure and beautiful.

Palm to Palm - KaRen (Assassination Classroom)

Yes I am a part of the extremely tiny fandom that ships Karma and Ren (I do ship Karma with multiple people throughout the manga lmao) but only in THIS specific context. And this is beautifully written, I can't stop re-reading it. Also, the name of the ship makes me laugh. Karma and Ren relationship after losing Gakushuu -the boy they both love above everything else- is peak romance.

Le goût du chocolat - L x Light (Death Note)

I honestly don't remember a thing about this fanfiction except a single sentence, but I do know that I totally fell in love with it. It was one of my fave fanfic when I was full active on Wattpad, and I even archived it because I didn't want to lose it. I should read it again now that I found it again.

Alright that's 10 !!! Finally !!

Oh it was so fun to fall back into all the things I read before ! But it was harder than I expected because, well, I only have AO3 for 3 years and I've been on Wattpad for 7 years, but I started reading fanfiction even before that, I just didn't have any account back then. So, I kinda forgot about some of the things I read more than 4 years ago, and I couldn't find the gems I discovered when I was 12. Most of the books that made out to this list are my recent lectures, it's a bit biased I guess.

Anyway, thank you for the ask ! It was fun to analyze all my bookmarks and everything !

#Sorry for taking so many time to answer !#I hope my english wasn't too bad in this post #when there's just a character's name it means it's not centred on a ship #reading #fanfiction #answering asks #personal rambling #personal sharing #ao3 #wattpad #fanfic readers #list #anon ask #listing #shipping #anime #fandom #manga

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