#unattainable. you never know how to jump into it. you already need to be there from the start for it to work

[daz4i]

unfortunately in order to want to live you need to make a decision that you want to live. and in order to do that, you need to want to live. do you see my issue here

[damn-stark]

Chapter 29 A dot Targ. A dot Vel. (REPRISE)

Chapter 29 of Moonlight

A/N- Its good! I’m so proud!

Warning- talks of pregnancy, ANGST, fluff? violence, blood, swearing, and death. SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 515-520

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW YEARS BACK*

“There. We drop from the top of this cliff and fall right into the water. There’s no rocks below, there’s no way to get hurt. It’s a straightforward jump that’s not high whatsoever.”

Perhaps it was easier for you to say it, you have jumped from the cliff multiple times already, but to your brothers, Daeron, and Helaena? For them, the jump from the small cliff is like being high in the sky and jumping off your dragon's backs. The big body of water that glimmers like gems against the sun's reign is dull and grey in their eyes, and the target is small and an unattainable feat.

“You can walk back down,” Aemond interjects and directs at his little brother. “That’s what Jacaerys and Lucerys are doing. You don’t have to jump if you don’t want to.”

Daeron steps forward an inch to drop his brown eyes on the body of water below and gulp with fear.

“We can hold hands and jump together,” Helaena offers her little brother. “That’s how her…” Helaena pauses and points at you and then points her eyes at Aemond standing beside you. “…and Aemond do it.”

Said boy looks away out of embarrassment but doesn’t argue because it’s true. Every time you come to the top to jump down you do it hand in hand. Never have you done it without each other—yet maybe today might be the day considering Aemond might want to show off to Aegon.

“Yes,” Daeron says shakily and peers over his shoulder before he lifts his hand off his side and starts to reach out for his older sister.

However, it’s in his attempt to seek support that suddenly Aegon sprints forward. “Don’t be such a coward!” Aegon exclaims. “You’re a man with balls not a girl with a cunt!”

Before you can stop him, he shoves past Aemond and you to throw his hands out and shove Daeron off the cliff.

“Aegon!” You snap and run to the edge, whilst Helaena lets out a shocked gasp, and Aemond trails after you.

“Why would you do that?” Aemond remarks to his brother as you all watch Daeron screaming from the top of his lungs before he hits the water with a big splash!

“What’s wrong with you?!” You exclaim and snap your eyes to Aegon, but he just flashes you a cocky smile before he walks back a few paces and then runs forward to jump off the cliff himself and land beside his brother.

“Jacaerys!” You call out as you keep your eyes on where Daeron hit the water. “Check on Daeron!”

Your brother shoots you a thumbs up and walks in the water to do as you asked, and luckily he doesn’t need to assist. Daeron resurfaces with a big gasp of air as he wipes his face.

“Daeron! Are you okay?!” Helaena asks loudly, but she gets ignored as Daeron spins around and begins to splash Aegon out of spite. However, as expected, Aegon only finds his brother's reaction humorous.

“I told you not to invite him,” you quip at Aemond with a side glare. “Of course, he was going to do some shit like this.”

“I thought he’d behave,” Aemond mutters. “Besides, I didn’t invite him. He found out and invited himself.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Whatever, do you want to go next?” You ask and throw your hand out to offer it to him. And at first, he looks at your extended invitation and hesitates for a few seconds, so you think today will be the day he refuses your assistance, but alas, he thankfully doesn’t give in to his self-consciousness about being judged by Aegon and puts his hand over yours and make you smile at him.

“Ready?” You make sure to ask as you secure your hold around his hand.

Aemond nods and you proceed to walk back a couple of steps before you both run forward at the same time and jump off the cliff together hand in hand just like you always do. When you hit the water with a big splash and sink in the depths of the deep body of water, you let go of Aemond’s hand and open your eyes, catching him struggling to find his composure for a moment.

Only for a moment though because he’s quick to calm down and stop flailing his limbs around, letting his heartbeat come to a calm beat, and finding the moment to open his eyes and come face to face with you and your close-mouthed smile as you’re the center of each other's attention.

He tries to mirror your sweet gesture, but his smile is not as grand or excited as yours. There’s a warmth in his smile as sees you being so giddy, but he can not reflect that joy you carry because this, the depths of these waters aren’t his favorite; he feels like he’s playing with death by being down under for so long, but for you? This is basically your natural habitat. You were given the name the Siren of Driftmark for your singing ability, but what no one knows is that you’re basically a siren when you’re in the water.

You can hold your breath a long time and that’s something that was self-taught just to be able to dive down and collect stuff off the surface, and be able to mingle with the sea creatures that call these waters their home. Honestly, if it were up to you you would live here if you could, but alas you need air, so after you swim around him you resurface and take a breath of air without failing to grin brighter than the sun shining above.

“Come on, Helaena!” You encourage her whilst you see Aemond resurface and take a large gasp of air from the corner of your eye.

“Maybe I should go push her,” Aegon taunts, but you quickly snap around.

“Don’t you dare you ass!” You remark and push him, but alas he just laughs it off.

You respond to his maniacal laugh with a scoff as you turn away from him and look up again. However, Helaena is not in sight anymore.

“Helaena?!” You call out with worry.

Albeit only a few seconds later she shows up again as she runs toward the edge and jumps off with her fingers pinching her nose.

When she hits the water you swim toward her right away, but she resurfaces quickly and looks at you with relief to be alive. “I’m okay,” she reassures you as she breathes heavily.

You grin at her and nod. “Great. Would you do it again?”

She shakes her head and scoffs. “No.”

You giggle at her response and grab her hand to swim to shore together. Once your feet hit the sandy ground you find Daeron sitting on a rock with his eyes on the water before him.

“Are you okay?” You make sure to ask as you break away from Helaena and crouch down beside him.

“Yes,” he sighs and blinks as he turns his head to look at you. “It was not so bad. It just looked further when I was up there.”

You smile softly and nod in comprehension before you raise a quizzical brow. “Would you do it again?”

Daeron scoffs and nods softly. “Yes. It was fun.”

You beam at him and nudge him playfully. “See, I told you it was not so bad!”

Daeron smiles shyly and rolls his head down as he averts his gaze. “Yes I suppose you were right,” he echoes you before he meets your eyes with that sweet smile. “Just don’t let Aegon push me this time.”

You shake your head and pat his shoulder to reassure him. “No, never. I won’t let him come close. Swear.”

——

*NOW. TUMBLETON*

The stars in the night sky are dancing and mingling with the moon. The breeze is cool, colder than any that’s been felt yet, keeping the warm bodies in their tents to preserve heat and also sleep off the nighttime activities that have been transcending for the past week.

Overall the night is at last calm, giving the army of men a peaceful night. However, it’s in that silence and peace that they are easily able to feel the ground beneath them starting to tremble. And even if they can’t mistake it for anything absurd like all the men getting piss drunk, they don’t question the earth, yet.

With not a moment to spare, more and more men start to wake up when they hear the sound of faint rumbling echoing in the distance. They try to play it off as some distant storm coming their way, but that rumbling grows louder, going from rumbling to it sounding like a thousand storms of thunder clapping on the ground, making the ground shake even more violently and once and for all luring them out of their tents.

Albeit it’s a good and bad thing that they did. It’s a bad thing because they’re met face to face with death, but it's also a good thing because they can alert everyone of death rolling in on them in the shape of two large dragons that dive from the sky unleashing waves of fire upon their tent grounds that engulf the once darkened campsite in a raging firelight and drown out the soft and bright light of the moon and the stars.

From there on it's impossible for anyone to mind their business and ignore the sound of chaos outside, the firestorm falling upon them, and the wave upon wave of screaming men all charging toward them. Now they have to get up and dress for a fight, or get up and walk out whilst they’re dressing to grab any weapon they can or grab their horses to have some fighting chance.

And some men do have a fighting chance—Those men far from the initial line of fire can quickly dress and grab what they need to meet their attackers. However, those men caught under the dragon's shadows are nothing more than ash and bones, especially as you and Astraea make a sharp turn and fly low, descending a fiery death as you fly directly toward the main tents because that’s where you’ll find him; Daeron Targaryen.

Many would call you a Kinslayer for directly killing your uncle Daeron. You’ll forever be marked as one in the history books. All your great achievements will be watered down to that single fact especially because you’re a woman, but here’s the thing, you don’t give a single fuck what people in a hundred years think of you. All you care about is killing one man at this very moment, and you notice him just as you’re flying directly toward the main tents.

Daeron is standing outside, half-dressed with his silver-blond hair standing out like a sore thumb against the wild flames feeding on the bodies, the tents, and the ground around him. He stands there with his dark eyes on you and your dragon charging directly at him. He’s there and as his figure reflects in your eyes all the deaths you’ve endured; Lucerys, your grandmother, Jacaerys, Viserys, Joffrey, and even Aemond—Even his own brother's death flashes behind your eyes as if he was the sole cause of their deaths. As if he himself killed them with his bare hands.

And in some messed up way your mind does see him as the sole cause of their deaths because there’s no one else to blame; Aegon is dead or lost somewhere, you can never truly blame Aemond, and anyone else can never compare to the man standing before you. The Hightower and Targaryen boy whose family took away everything good. It’s because of his family that all of your own family is gone, and all that you knew is dead along with them. So yes, you blame him. You want him dead. You want to see his flesh melt off his bones. You want to give his mother his head so she may feel your mother's pain and the pain you have endured as well.

It would satisfy your thirst for revenge just enough to get off the field and watch from a distance to not make Cregan, Ser Cane, and Addam worry. Daeron is all your anger wants. He’s all your desire locks on. Daeron.

Daeron.

Daeron.

“Dracarys,” you growl as you lean forward and grab onto the handle with a vice grip.

Astraea clicks from the back of her throat as she builds up fire before she blasts her burning flames on Daeron and the path behind him.

Nevertheless, just before the flames can hit Daeron and the ground, the boy jumps out of Astraea’s aim.

You immediately snap your head around as Astraea flies forward, and soon thereafter catch him pushing himself to his feet to be able to run away and hide in between the crowd all running from the dragon's wrath.

“RAHHH!” You cry out enraged and hit the handles of your saddle. “<Turn Astraea!>” You command in Valyrian as you nudge the handles to the side. And without needing to be told twice Astraea makes a quick turn, whipping her tail and thrashing men to the side whilst also destroying tents and clutter in the way of her swinging tail.

When you’re facing the way Daeron ran you have Astraea unleash more waves of fire, catching irrelevant men in the way of your wrath until your uncle is all that you see ahead of you now that he’s not able to hide in the sea of bodies.

Yet before you can give your command to Astraea with your words or through your connection, you unhook all your restraints and push yourself off your seat to swing your leg over the saddle and reach the ladder hanging off Astraea’s side. After that, without needing to be told, your dragon comes to a stop and hovers over the ground of burning bodies to let you descend the ladders and land on an empty spot on the ground.

Daeron notices what you're doing and doesn’t stop running. You look at his path ahead and assume he’s attempting to reach Tessarion, so, considering Astraea knows your deepest desire, she swoops around him, unleashing a line of fire around him to cut him off in his attempts and bring him to an immediate stop before the wall of fire.

You then proceed to watch him, but don’t call out his name. You narrow your glare and start trudging toward him with heavy footsteps and Blackfyre in one hand. And perhaps that sight of you is much more terrifying than being called out because silence is much more threatening. It's tense and deadly because he knows, he feels it on the hairs on the back of his neck and the goosebumps crawling down his spine that you’re coming.

It’s only once Daeron hears you come to a stop that he turns around while he fixes his grip on his own sword, and confronts your piercing glare spewing hatred and a ferocity that he has only heard of until now.

Yet it doesn’t scare him. He doesn’t tense or try to find a way to escape, he stands there with you in a small clear spot surrounded by dead bodies and a wall of fire that stays alive by feeding off some of those dead bodies.

“Goodsister,” he greets warmly, but you don’t even attempt to return a feigned friendly greeting. You breathe out heavily through your nose and tighten your grip around your Valyrian sword.

“It’s been a while. You’re glowing,” he finds some way to be funny, but again, you don’t mirror him. You do respond though.

“I’m not your Goodsister anymore. Aemond is dead.”

Daeron blinks and nods stiffly. “Yes, I know. My condolences, you were married and you were best friends from what I remember. He really loved you.”

You blink repeatedly as one of your heartstrings is pulled at by his words.

“Don’t patronize me,” you hiss and throw your hand out to point the tip of your sword at him. “Fight.”

Daeron swallows back nervously and remains still for a second before he shakes his head. “No, I won’t fight you. You’re my niece and you’re with child. It would not be fair.”

“You have until my Astraea reaches us to swing your sword,” you ignore him and then lift your hand to point your sword at Astraea circling around to return this way. “If you refuse she will unfurl her fire and catch us both with her flames, but,” you suck your teeth and begin to smile a menacing smile. “Only one of us can withstand the fire's fury. You…will burn and Tessarion won’t be able to reach you in time to save you. So choose. You can fight me and have a chance to survive, or die a fiery death.”

Daeron glances at Astraea getting closer and then glances at the army of men you came with before he slowly lets his eyes fall back on you. “And if I fight you and survive, how long until your army of men comes after me?”

You scoff. “Not long. Lord Stark is lurking nearby, and my sworn protector is also close, so,” you pause and hum as you come up with an estimate. “About ten to fifteen minutes, but that’s enough to get close to your dragon. That is if my dragon doesn’t eat you first.”

He hums and nods in comprehension before he chooses to glance at his options again and debate whether he really wants to fight you at a disadvantage, or give up and die.

It is a hard choice given he doesn’t hate you or hold any ill will. It was always your brothers that he was taught to dislike, but his mother never really taught them to hate you. She did bad mouth you and was rude, but she never told her kids to hate you, so he can’t find it in himself to flip a switch and all of a sudden want to kill you.

Yet…he also doesn’t want to die. He can’t die when his men and his own mother need him. He owes it to the siblings he’s lost and their cause to fight. So with a deep breath, he tightens his grip, fixes his stance, and chooses.

“Alright if it’s what you want.” He mutters, making that menacing smile turn to a grin, and without saying a word, causing Astraea to drift and now circle you and him rather than setting you both on fire.

“It’s what I want and it’s what I need,” you grumble and fix your stance before you slowly let out a deep breath.

~~~~~

There’s a breath you take in your lungs, but rather than being filled with relief as the breath of air runs through your lungs something grainy travels into your lungs before you’re overcome with a pressure over your chest.

A darkness also accompanies the pressure as you open your eyes, and all you can do is panic rather than staying calm and thinking about what’s going on or where you are.

You throw your hands out and fling them around to try and remove the heavy grain that’s burying you without thinking about taking steady breaths. You pant, taking in more and more grains of sand bit by bit until a beam of light breaks through the darkness, bringing hope to the desperation and letting you break through the barrier that was on top of you to let you see an endless blue sky.

Yet even as you face the horizon and the freedom it brings, the panic still unsettles your heart as you face an endless sea that you weren’t near mere moments ago and violently cough out the grains that you now know are sand.

It’s all so sudden, the sand, the sea, the blue sky, and the shining sun. You were just…

You don’t remember…

You can’t remember where you were. You don’t—you can’t.

“Hey, hey, breathe. Breathe,” a familiar voice tries to instruct you before their hand falls on your shoulder, but you just bolt to your feet and spin around to swat their hand away in your panic.

Only, it’s when you face the person comforting you that you recognize…your father.

“Father?” You ask breathlessly and step back out of fear.

“Yes.” He nods. “Yes. It’s me. You’re okay. It’s me.”

You shake your head and close your eyes to try and wake up back where you had been, but when you rip your eyes open you still see him and the beach standing behind you.

“No, no,” you keep denying what you see even if you don’t know what’s going on. You just know seeing your father isn’t right. “You’re not supposed to be here,” you say between pants and step back again whilst you reach for your belly for some support. Albeit your hands don’t come in contact with your swollen belly, your hands hit your torso, but there's no bump. It’s gone. The twins…

“What,” you gasp and feel your heart racing in your chest as your panic heightens, making everything around you spin, and making your head hurt. “Where are my children?!”

“Breathe!” Your father yells out over your panic and grabs your arms to yank you toward him so he can repeat himself louder. “Breathe.”

You look him in the eyes and don’t see a stranger or any trick or sorcery. You see the same brown eyes you saw when he was still alive. You see him, the man you loved, and the man you lost. He’s there in front of you. It’s no trick, no dream, no vision. It’s him.

“Father?” You question and blink repeatedly before you stare at him for a lingering minute and then avert your gaze to think back to what you remember last and what brought you to this moment. And even if you assume that you won’t remember, you do. You remember what led you to where you currently are.

“Father,” you breathe out and lift your hands to grab his arms and huff out with relief. “Father!”

“My girl,” he coos and finally offers you a smile as you’re calm now. “Hello.”

You offer him a smile but don’t redirect his greeting. Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “My twins?” You ask and he sighs before he offers you an assuring smile.

“They’re fine. You on the other hand…” he trails off and his face falls with pity and heavy concern. “My girl, do you know where you are?”

You blink repeatedly and come up with a quick idea. “I think so. I think,” you pant out and face him with worry. “Maybe I’m dead?”

He breathes out and neither nods nor shakes his head, he parts his lips and gives you a response instead. “Not yet, but you can choose to.”

“Choose to?” You echo and shake your head before probing in more confusion. “I don’t understand. I thought I died.”

He shakes his head. “Not yet, that’s why you can choose. You can pass on and stay here, or you can leave this place. You can also choose to live. That’s the difference between me and you. You just have to know what you want.”

You slowly let go of him and think over his words as if it were some great mystery when what he said and what it meant is clear as day.

“Do you know what you want?” He asks and looks deep into your averted gaze.

“I,” you mouth and breathe out before you drag your eyes up and face him with a sense of confusion on how to answer his question because why would you want to go back?

You did have some great plans you went over with Cregan, but as you’re here, in this great limbo with your father on the beach without any pain or worry, why would you want to leave to suffer?

You don’t want to cry anymore. You don’t want to live through more loss. You don’t want to suffer any more pain. You want to stay here where you can be by the sea, breathing in the salty air, and being with a man you love.

“I don’t know,” you mutter under your breath and look away shamefully as if waiting for him to scold you and try to argue with you. Albeit he just pats your arms before he strokes your cheeks.

“That’s okay, take your time.”

You meet his dark eyes and offer him a thankful smile before you once again look around at where you are.

Your father follows your line of gaze and takes a step away from you to finally probe. “Why did you choose the beach?”

You turn around to face the endless blue sea and answer without having to think about it. “Because it’s where I was always the happiest. It’s where I would come with my brothers and the others. It’s where you taught me to fish and how to read the stars. It’s where you taught me to sing sailor shanties.” You share and giggle breathlessly before you look over at him and finally wonder why he’s here when he should be long gone with the man he never stopped loving.

“Why are you here, father? Shouldn’t you be with your partner Joffrey?” You ask, making him scoff and look out at the peaceful waters that you stand in front of.

“No,” he then answers quietly. “I’m where I’m meant to be.”

You meet his gaze and try to dig deep for the real answer, but you can’t find it in his eyes or find any clue in between his body language, so you accept his answer as it is.

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” He interjects and steals all your divided attention. “You…have come so far,” he muses. “My little siren.” He laughs breathlessly and steps forward to once again grab your face. “You have grown into such a strong and beautiful young woman.”

“Father,” you mouth as your eyes start to fill with tears, making the sight of him turn blurry.

“You are a good mother, and you are a good daughter. Despite all your doubts, you are a good daughter, your mother knows that. I know that. You are just young, you will make mistakes, but the important thing is you admit them and learn from them, but never shame yourself because of those mistakes.”

More tears overfill your eyes, causing them to break out and roll down your cheeks.

“I love you, my girl,” he continues in the same soft and affectionate way as if he didn’t have all the time in the world despite being dead—“you are my greatest achievement. You are what I’m most proud of and I’m,” his voice breaks and tears fill his own eyes. “…I’m sorry for leaving. I hurt you and I’m sorry. You needed me and I left. I tried to come back. I was on my way back to see you, but I…” he trails off and his tears roll down. “…that’s when I died. You believe me right?”

You lift your hands to grab his jaw and offer him a wobbly smile before you nod. “I do. I believe you because I saw it in a vision from a good witch.”

He scoffs in amusement and you giggle before you slide your hands down and proceed to throw them around his neck to pull him in for an embrace.

“I forgive you, Father,” you assure him and unknowingly offer him everything he had been waiting for.

You finally give him the forgiveness that he was waiting for to move on to peace.

“I love you, and I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” his voice cracks as he hugs you back with a tight force. “And I love you more than anything.”

You weep on his shoulder and grip onto him as if your life depended on it. “Father,” you cry and unleash a very shaky and heavy breath that feels like you shed off a weight you did not know you had been carrying on your shoulders.

“It’s okay to be selfish,” he whispers. “No one will shame you for it if it’s what you want.”

You pull away slowly and wipe your tears before you look him in the eyes and continue with a quiver as you talk through your pain. “I don’t want—”

Albeit before you can finish, there’s other people that catch your eye. There in the distance, along the shoreline are your three brothers; Joffrey, Lucerys, and Jacaerys. They’re here too and the sight of them makes you forget the pain you were about to share and the choice you didn’t know if you wanted to make. You were going to debate it, but now as you see your brothers all you can think about is going to them.

“Go,” your father tells you as he sees what you focus on. “They’re waiting for you.”

You quickly look back at him and query. “Are you sure?”

He holds your gaze and stares at you for a lingering second before he nods softly. “I’m sure. Go.”

You offer him one last giddy smile before you peel away and face your beloved brothers. “Joffrey! Luke! Jace!”

All three boys turn to look at you and you throw your hand in the air and wave.

Lucerys is the first to respond with a sweet smile before Joffrey waves you over.

You then don’t debate your choice or look back at your father, you move your foot forward and go to them.

~~~~~~~

*NOW*

A breath unfurls from your lungs and escapes past your lips. Your once deadly grip on your blade's handle loosens, and your feet shift into a fighting stance as you lock eyes with Daeron.

“I am sorry—”

“Shut up,” you grimace and lunge forward to swing Blackfyre at his neck, but Daeron is quick to block your attempts and then push you back, causing you to grunt and then proceed to thrust violently.

However, Daeron then throws his body to the side to avert your action, but you don’t let him collect himself and come up with some alternative. You overwhelm him by swinging your blade again.

Albeit Daeron meets your blade with his once more, causing a sharp clinging to ring out against the sound of men fighting and dying, dragon wings clapping as they flap in the sky, fire blasting out of their mouths, and crying as you hear them fighting.

Nevertheless, it’s while your swords are pressed against each other, and your eyes are locked on one another that you slip one hand off your blade handle and curl your fist to throw him an uppercut that makes him stumble back. After that, you probably would have followed with a kick, but with your belly weighing you down you can’t, so instead, you opt to rush him and throw your blade down. Albeit Daeron follows up by throwing his own blade up to meet your actions before he manages to drop one hand to grab your wrist and try to shove you back.

“I don’t want to fight you. It’s not fair!” He cries out to try and make you listen. “And above all else, you’re my niece. We grew up together, doesn’t that count for something?”

Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes narrow to a nasty glare. “Aegon grew up with my mother and he still took her throne. He was a man capable of thinking for himself. He could’ve fought back, but he didn’t, he still took my mother's throne,” you growl and use your strength to try and push him off you, but his grip only tightens and he pushes back against you, causing you to drop one hand to grab onto his forearm and try to rip his grip off your wrist that holds you captive.

“And you still chose to fight against her. She would have given you a spot beside her!” You cry in anger. “But you still betrayed her and for what? A mother that hardly cares about you? Brothers that forget you exist?” You scoff and shoot him a smirk to try and piss him off, but he’s more emotionally mature. Daeron slides his hand off your wrist instead and then presses it against your chest to shove you back with a strength that’s enough to make you lose contact and stumble back.

You try to quickly find your balance to counter, but Daeron then kicks dirt and ash in your eyes, causing a roaring cry to rip out from your throat and break through all the barriers of noise that surround you, while your sword falls from your hands as you fling yourself around and fall to your knees to try and wipe the trash out of your stinging eyes.

“What the hell?!” You hiss and groan as you frantically rub your eyes.

“Is that what you want?!” Daeron remarks and steps forward, but you manage to crawl away and throw your hand back.

“Don’t you dare,” you snap back and go back to rubbing your eyes.

“You really think this is what Aemond would want?” He throws out as if he knew the man Aemond grew up to be. He only knew a child, he didn’t know the man he was.

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss and drop your hand to blink hard and repeatedly, whilst also feeling your eyes overflow with tears that try to wash out all the trash in your eyes—“don’t talk about him like you know him,” you remark and finally manage to see the ground. It’s cloudy, but you can still see it nonetheless so you continue to crawl away in search of a weapon.

“You didn’t know him,” your voice cracks. “Your mother didn’t know him. Aegon didn’t. Only I did…he was mine and he’s gone now because of your family. Because of you! So shut up.”

“What happened to you?” He asks boldly as he stays where he is and watches you aimlessly move away from him and your sword—“You used to be kind-hearted. You were good and now…”

“I’m everything you and your family made me,” you finish his sentence and feel your breath catch in your throat when you see an intact bow and scattered arrows just beneath a burnt corpse.

“No, no I don’t believe that,” he says as he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re starting to pull at something.

“The girl I knew is still there. You were the Realm’s Golden Girl,” he goes on rambling. “I don’t believe you could have fallen this far.”

You manage to get the bow out so you test your luck with one arrow so as to not risk raising suspicion by reaching for the other arrow scattered further away from you.

“Believe what you want. I do not care,” you grumble and align your arrow with the bow before you throw yourself around and garner his attention.

Daeron sees your intentions and tries to quickly react, but without thinking too much about your aim because of your blurry eyesight, you let the arrow go, and in that flash of a second after the arrow flies through the air, you manage to pierce Daeron through his eye.

And as soon the arrow hits his face you gasp with surprise while he freezes in place as he’s overcome with disbelief over what just happened.

Yet it’s while he’s caught in his paralyzing shock that you drop the bow and hastily push yourself to your feet to be able to run toward Blackfyre abandoned on the ground, giving Daeron the push to snap out of his stupor and finally realize he’s in agonizing pain and also targeted for another attack.

Although the arrow pierced through his eye makes him slow, he’s still dealing with his paralyzing shock which doesn’t let him be as fast as he wants to be. Thus he does what he can and throws his hand out as you stride toward him with your hands reeling your sword back, and he stammers, “Wait—”

However, you don’t let him finish his sentence before you swing your sword with every ounce of strength you can muster, managing to cut through his neck and slice his head clean off his shoulders with a loud cry of determination.

When the head hits the ground a loud and solemn cry pierces through the sky in the distance, but you ignore it and instead let out a heavy breath and follow your body forward toward the wall of fire as you stumble due to the strength you used, letting the flames consume you as you stand there in your disbelief.

Killing Daeron didn’t affect you. You don’t feel a twinge of grief or remorse. You’re just surprised it happened. You killed Daeron.

What does that make you feel? Deep inside.

You blink as hard as you can to keep trying to remove the dirt still stuck in your eyes and think about it.

There’s no grief. No guilt or remorse. Do you feel relieved?

No.

Do you feel proud?

You tilt your head up toward the sky and blink repeatedly a few more times to finally rid your eyes of all the gunk Daeron kicked at you to blind you and finally see clearly, and it’s like a breath of fresh air.

You make out the screen of smoke that pollutes the air and completely covers the starry sky and its illuminating light. You see the thick ash that falls down to the earth like snowflakes fall, and in between all that ugly pollution you find your answer to your question, and it’s a no. You don’t feel proud, you only feel a hunger for more. You still feel…unsatisfied. Like you’re missing something.

How funny, killing Daeron was supposed to satisfy your thirst for blood for a while, just until you reached Kings Landing and sought revenge for what the Smallfolk did to your mother and the dragons. Albeit not an ounce of that thirst is satisfied.

So it’s true what they say? Killing out of revenge won’t satisfy someone?

Well…it has to. It has to mean something!

Thus you bring your head down and walk out of the fire with your chainmail burning red because of the heat, and your fur cloak burning behind you as you walk over and collect Daeron’s head off the ground.

“Goodbye uncle, it was nice knowing you,” you mutter to his bleeding head without meaning a word as you lift it to look at him in his lifeless brown eye. “They’ll remember you because of me,” you add before you drop your arm and roll your shoulders back as you let out a deep breath. You then walk away from the small empty space and walk over dead body after dead body littered on the battlefield ground and reach a boulder that stands at the center of all the chaos.

Before you climb on the large boulder though, you look down at the head you carry and force pride upon yourself. You think about the wave of encouragement and hope all your men will feel upon seeing Daeron’s head, and that fills you with excitement and more pride that you couldn’t muster before.

And it’s only once those emotions now rush through you that you start to climb the boulder without caring if you’re dragging Blackfyre against the stone, or that blood is staining your hand. You climb the boulder and reach the top, seeing multiple banners spread throughout the thick of the battlefield all waving the same red three-headed dragon against a black background, and you think of her, your mother, and your Queen.

She won’t have to worry about Daeron or his dragon anymore. It’s not the guarantee she needs to end this war, but it’s one less piece of the board. You can win and she will ascend her throne.

You believe it with your whole heart and it’s that belief that overflows your running heart with enthusiasm and malice.

“The Daring is dead!” You make your voice boom, catching the attention of your men and your enemies before you throw your hand up to show off the head like a trophy, causing an eruption of cheers and gasps alike.

“BLOOD DRAGON!”

“BLOOD DRAGON!” The cheers of your alias scatter around the field, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin and a smile to spread on your lips.

“FOR—” you cut yourself off as a large shadow casts over you, making you roll your head back and catch Daeron’s cobalt dragon, Tessarion torpedoing toward you with its mouth open.

Yet even if you do see the potential danger, you don’t turn to run or shield yourself because you know and feel Astraea behind you, flying directly toward the threat to protect you. Besides, Tessarion can’t burn you with her flames like she thinks she can, so you welcome the rain of fire with a wicked smile

Even then as the fire barrels over you, you basically just get scraped because Astraea rams into Tessarion and shoves her to the ground with a loud boom that shakes the ground and makes a crater.

“<Good girl,>” you praise your dragon even if she can’t hear you before you rip your attention away and search for Addam and Seasmoke.

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily you spot him in the distance caught in a dance between Seasmoke and Vermithor.

You look out for Silverwing, but you don’t catch her anywhere, it’s just Vermithor against Seasmoke, but is that really relieving?

Not in the slightest because Vermithor is the largest dragon. He has more battle experience than Seasmoke, and much more power in his fire and whatever hits he throws. He could find a way to kill Seasmoke if his rider is smart enough.

All while Tessarion is now riderless and smaller. Without a rider, she’s aimless in this fight, so you need to help Addam and Seasmoke first. You can then worry about Silverwing and Tessarion if they turn out to be a threat.

Therefore, you descend the boulder with haste and turn in your dragon's direction, seeing at that moment as if having read your thoughts, Astraea leaving Tessarion stranded and struggling on the ground so you can meet each other halfway, and hastily climb her after sheathing your sword.

“<Let's go help Seasmoke and Addam,>” you tell her while you shove Daeron’s decapitated head into a saddlebag. Albeit was there really a need to tell her what you wanted? Astraea had already met up with you without needing to be told, and she knows what it is you want and your desperate desire because she feels it too.

~~~~~~~

“Jace! Luke! Joffrey!”

There’s nothing that can stop you. No obstacle, no force, or divine intervention. There’s only them at the other end of that sandy beach as if they’re encouraging you to the big finish line. They call out your name with excitement and big smiles, only further exciting your already racing heart, and fueling your encouragement already running at high speed in order to let you reach them out of fear that they are a figment of your imagination.

“Jace!” You call out again with tears running off your face and joining the windy breeze. “Joffrey! Luke!” You say with a wobbly grin illuminating your once gloomy face.

Once you finally break through all the barriers that stood in between and cross that finish line to reach them, they can’t hold their excitement either, they run to you as you run to them and throw your arms around each other while you all laugh a quivering laugh and grin as you’re overfilled with joy.

“You're all here,” you say with a whimper and cling onto them tighter. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too,” Joffrey offers you some consolation before you all pull away, letting you crouch to grab your youngest brother's shoulders and look at him with pity.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to save you, Joffrey.”

Said boy offers you a half smile and shrugs. “It's okay, I had a great death.”

You frown and he sighs before he closes the gap to wrap you in an embrace that just involves him and you.

“Don’t forget me,” he says with a quiver. “And tell Mother I am sorry. If you decide to return that is. Will you?” He doesn’t let you give him a response to his previous comments before he bombards you with a heavy question and pulls away to look at you with an impatient stare.

“Joffrey lay off her,” Jacaerys warns your brother, making you stand up and slowly drag your eyes up to face him. “Don't start crying on us. We know,” he breathes out. “We know all the guilt, the shame, and the longing, so just don’t repeat it.”

You laugh softly and nod before snapping your attention to Lucerys. “Luke,” you greet him softly, making him offer you a sweet and childlike smile.

“I missed you,” he tells you and steals a small breath from your chest.

“I,” you breathe out. “I missed you too.”

Lucerys smile widens before he walks over to wrap his arm around your waist, letting you wrap your arm around his shoulders.

“Are you here to stay?” Lucerys now presses, causing you to sigh and drop your head whilst you all begin walking forward along the shoreline, unbeknownst to the fact that your father is no longer behind you or waiting for that matter. He’s passed because it was your forgiveness that he was waiting for and now that he has it he can know peace. He would help you find the answer to what you want, but that’s something he can’t assist with, that’s an answer only you can come up with.

“I don’t…know…” you trail off and lift your head to look at the blue sky with wonder and confusion.

“I…am so sick and tired of just feeling agony, of losing people, and losing parts of me in this war that staying is more tempting than I care to admit. But on the other hand, I have people depending on me to continue fighting. So,” you pause and swallow back the lump that forms in your throat. “I don’t know.”

Jacaerys hums and you stop walking, causing your arm to slip off Lucerys shoulder whilst his arm also slides off you as you linger behind with your head down and your eyes full of tears.

“Would you,” you pause and hear them come to a stop and shift around against the sand to look at you and wait for the rest of what you were building up to say.

“…would you be mad if I chose to stay here with you all?” You ask and draw in a shaky breath before you slowly face them with tears running down your cheeks. “Would it be selfish of me to trade my pain for an eternity of happiness here on this beach with you? Because I want to…I want to stay. I want to be happy and laugh again. I want to be with you, I don’t want to go back and live on without you!”

Jacaerys and Lucerys share the same pitiful look before Jacaerys steps forward to speak his peace. “I would drag you back because you have the chance we didn’t, but,” he sighs deeply. “If staying is what you want. If that’s what will make you happy, who am I to keep you from happiness? Besides, life here would be a little less boring with you.” He says and offers you that ever-so-heartwarming smile that brightens this moment just a little more.

“I,” you part your lips as your heart yearns to be with them, but before you can give them your answer, water splashes over the side of your face and that of your brothers. When you look over at where the water came from you see that Joffrey was the mischievous culprit.

“Of course it was you,” you remark lightheartedly and push aside the choice you were going to make to run over and grab Joffrey and throw him over your shoulder.

“No, let me go!” He exclaims between laughs, but you run deeper in the water to drop him and make a big splash that makes him burst out laughing even harder.

Lucerys and Jacaerys then join in on the harmless fun in the water as they see you and Joffrey getting carried away; choosing to splash water on each other and or shove each other in the water like you would on those hot summer days when you were young.

For a while you get everything you just said you wanted; you laugh like you haven’t laughed in months. You flash a beaming smile and forget all about the chaos that is your life outside of this limbo. For a moment as you’re having fun with your brothers in the water, it's almost like your heart is set on a decision.

You want to stay. You want to live in this happiness under the sun. You don’t want to wake up under a cloudy sky without your brothers. You want to stay with them for as long as you can. And almost as if to solidify your choice, there in the distance shining in your eyes like the bright sun is your beloved, your Aemond…

~~~~~

*NOW*

Beneath your most desperate desire lies another need. A wicked need just fueled by anger and hate.

A rather unnecessary need to see through because your fight is outside the walls and all the fighting men that are inside Tumbleton’s walls are coming out to join the fight, or are already affected by the chaos the surprise attack caused.

Yet as unnecessary as the need is, the need is still a rather burning desire to rain fire on the entire town as if they’re single-handedly at fault for being taken and sacked by the enemy.

The need makes you itch to follow through with it. The need screams at your mind to tell Astraea to make a sharp turn and fly toward the town. You feel a pressure building within to unleash all that you have balled up inside you, but…you have more control than easily giving into that specific desire, besides, Addam needs your help and that takes priority. So, you continue to fly toward him at a quick speed while also thanking the fact that this fight is taking place at night because Astraea can take cover through the shadows that the wildfires and scattered firelight leave untouched.

Albeit you also grow to resent that night because it makes it harder to see Vermithor and Seasmoke fighting. You can see them tangled on the ground, and you can hear them snapping at each other while they also growl and cry, but this cover makes it difficult to make out their figures so you can know where to hit. And it’s not like you can unleash a blast of fire because Addam could get hurt in the process. You have to rely on Astraea, and you have to strain your eyes.

Much to your conflicted mind though, when you get close enough, you see that Vermithor’s saddle is empty. Ser Hugh is not strapped on his dragon, and you can’t say that he’s crushed, burnt, or eaten because there would be evidence on the saddle or lack thereof, but the saddle is intact. So does that mean…Vermithor is fighting out of his own will? He has to be. And is Ser Hugh dead?

That’s a question you don’t ponder or care to learn the answer to now. Right now you scan the scene as much as the visibility allows you to, finding an opening on Vermithor’s belly.

An attack there would give Seasmoke wiggle room to get out of the entanglement.

Hence you nudge the handles on your saddle down to try and guide Astraea in that direction, but it seems she was already thinking the same thing because she tucks her wings and completely head butts Vermithor’s belly, bringing both male dragons to an abrupt stop, and then forcing Vermithor to unlock his jaw off Seasmoke’s wing to snap back and try to throw his jaw down on Astraea.

Alas, your dragon bites down hard and swings her head to the side, creating a deep gash on Vermithor’s belly that makes him bellow out in pain.

Seasmoke then sees his opening and slips away from Vermithor. You look over and see him try to rise, but his wing is too battered to use, he can’t pick himself off the ground.

“Addam!” You call out as loud as you can so your voice can be carried out. “Addam!”

Said man catches wind of his name traveling through the breeze and his attention falls on you.

“Jump off the dragon!” You try to tell him as Astraea and Vermithor are fighting. “Jump off!” You shout at the top of your lungs as you also try to motion with your hands so you can get your point across and so he can continue to have some fighting chance.

“Addam! Jump! Please!” You continue to plead before you throw your hand out to offer to him and let him know that you will help him. You can get out of this together.

Alas, Addam holds your pleading gaze and shakes his head as he understands well what it is you’re trying to say. He doesn’t try to yell out his response, he just hits his chest with his fist the same way you tap each other's chest with your own fists.

“No,” you mewl and clutch onto your handles to try and nudge Astraea toward Addam and Seasmoke. However, just as Astraea pulls her jaw away from Vermithor’s belly, from the cover of night falls a blast of fire that unfurls over Astraea and you.

It’s a good thing that you don’t burn or else this is where you would have met your end. The only thing that happened was that you were caught by surprise so much that your heart leaped. Besides that and the rest of your fur cloak burning off, Astraea and you come out unscathed.

Actually, your dragon just comes out more enraged, so as Seasmoke is aiming for her neck, she snaps around as the fire is dying out to be able to whip her tail and throw him off his intended path.

“Addam!” You yell out without paying any mind to what happened or Tessarion’s possible retaliation. You turn your body against your saddle to search and find Vermithor shifting his focus back to Seasmoke.

“Addam!” You call out desperately, hurting every possible muscle aligning your throat to get your voice across, and actually manage to catch his attention.

Addam snaps his head to the side and his eyes fall on you. You can see his dark brown eyes through the cloud of debris that floats in the air and the scattered light that finds room in between you both, and you have the need to continue trying to get your plea across, but you know he’ll just ignore you, so you just narrow your gaze to a more determined look and offer him a small smile.

Addam returns your smile and holds your gaze for a second longer before Astraea throws herself in the air to tackle Tessarion while she tries to regain her balance, and shoves her to the ground.

You trust Astraea to fight so you turn your head to focus back on Addam, catching at that moment Seasmoke biting down on Vermithor’s neck with so much force that the bronze dragon begins to gush out blood.

Your eyes brighten with glee, and your first thought is to search for Addam.

Nevertheless, as you’re searching, Vermithor then counters the attack and clamps his jaw hard on Seasmoke’s throat before, with one forceful yank, rips Seasmoke’s head clean off his neck.

Your eyes peel back with shock and horror at that moment, but you still try to call out for Addam. You still continue to search for him, but you can’t find him. Once again your attention is pulled away, and this time it’s by Tessarion tangling her body around Astraea and rolling her on the ground.

You quickly bend over your saddle to avoid being thrashed around in the midst of the dragons rolling on the ground, whilst Astraea lets out a sharp cry as she swings her claws on any part of Tessarion she can reach, causing the cobalt dragon to stop in her actions and unleash Astraea from her hold.

Once your dragon has her feet on the ground you sit up and notice Tessarion struggling to get up so you look away and frantically search for Addam.

This time though you don’t find his face. You don’t meet his eyes. You see the headless corpse of Seasmoke bleeding out on the ground but no sign of Addam trying to find a way out, so you panic. You shouldn’t, there’s a high chance he was unharmed, but you still panic, so without caring about Vermithor dragging himself away, or Tessarion and Astraea still at each other's throats, you unbuckle yourself and hastily unmount your dragon to run through the blood-soaked ground.

You trip and fall on your hands and knees, staining your skin and your chainmail gown of dragon blood that lets out steam due to how hot it is, but you don’t stop to linger, your mind and your heart don’t let you stop. You run and run as fast as your body can let you, feeling your chest rise and fall quickly with heavy pants, and feeling your heartbeat quicken bit by bit as you approach Seasmoke’s saddle and fail to see Addam walk out unscathed or minimally injured.

“Addam!” You call out in hopes he’ll assure you he’s fine as he hears you approach him, but you don’t receive a response. Besides, all the calamity already surrounding you, his voice doesn’t rise over the clamoring.

Which is why you go again. “Addam?!”

You wait for a response but once again you fail to get one, so instead of quickening your pace, you slow down and focus on your pounding heart rather than ignoring the panic that makes it race with so much haste.

“Addam?” You call out weakly and press your hand on Seasmoke’s corpse to run it over his scales as you approach the saddle.

You don’t want to expect the worst due to Addam’s lack of response but you have already lost so much. You’ve been the butt of death's joke so many times that you prepare yourself mentally to face tragedy.

“Addam?” You whisper as you start to round the corner and stay connected to Seasmoke to try and spare your poor heart from what may await you.

Yet you can’t avoid the truth forever because if Addam is injured he might need your help. So with a few heavy breaths, you slip your hand off Seasmoke and finish turning that corner to finally come face to face with the saddle, and see Addam lying on the ground. You don’t pay attention if his back is moving with every breath, your eyes go wide as you gasp and a heightened sense of panic shoots through your heart, causing you to break into a sprint.

“Addam!” You call out with that sense of panic laced in your voice.

When you reach him you continue to not listen for his breaths. You don’t take note of his neck bent at an odd angle, you just see blood leaking out from a gash on his head and work to unstrap him from his saddle.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “You’ll be okay. I will put pressure on the wound. I know how to do that. I can do it until we reach a healer.”

Once again the response is silence, but you don’t care, you manage to unhook him from his saddle and hook your arms under his arms to drag him back onto the stable ground.

“You did great, you know that?” You continue as you use all your strength to drag his heavy body back with you. “I killed Daeron, I took his head and I want to,“ you pause to groan. “…give it to his mother. Which sounds cruel, but alas I do not care. She deserves it for what she caused, don’t you think?” You ask and lay him down on his back, catching the way his eyes are half-lidded and the blood running out of his gash is no longer bright crimson, but dark.

“Addam?” You call out and lose every ounce of warmth that was building up in your voice as you wanted to be oblivious. “Addam?” Your voice cracks and your heart slowly sinks down to your stomach, but you don’t come to any conclusion yet. First, you turn his head so it’s not bent at a concerning angle, and then, rip a long piece of fabric from your gown's skirt to wrap it around his head and apply pressure on his wound.

“You’re all patched up,” you strain to say as he remains motionless and with his eyes half-lidded. “Addam? Did you hear me?”

You bring your hands down from his head and press them on his chest to shake him gently so he can wake up, but he doesn’t even twitch. Thus you press your palm over his heart and wait.

Wait. And wait.

You even hold your breath as if that was in the way of letting you feel a single beat of his heart, but even in the silence that surrounds you and him, you fail to feel his heart thump under your palm. There’s not even a weak and soft thump, his heart is still. Lifeless…

“Addam?” Your voice quivers and you proceed to drag your hands up to grab his shoulders and shake him gently. “Addam?!” You croak, but there’s not even a groan or a pained gasp. He lies there breathless with his eyes lifeless and dull.

“A…Addam,” you keep calling out in hopes something will change when you know the truth. You had known it since the moment he failed to respond to your call the first time because even though there was a chance he was just unconscious then, you knew deep inside that life wouldn't treat you that kindly and death wouldn’t spare someone you loved just for you to suffer less. Yet you still tried to cling onto some fragment of hope. You wished desperately for there to be a positive outcome, but…there isn’t. Addam is dead…that's what all his wounds mean. He’s dead.

“Addam!” You cry and shake him again, but like before there’s no response so you let go of his shoulders and lift your hands to stroke his face still kept warm. “Please,” you plead, but not to Addam, to life, to destiny, the gods, or death. You pleaded to any divinity that existed so they could provide you with a miracle and not steal the life of yet someone else you loved.

Alas, they also ignore you and you're left on your knees having to cradle Addam’s body in your arms and continue to be ignorant of the fact that lies before you. “Please. Please!” You bellow out and tilt your head up, causing your glossy eyes and tear-pampered face to glisten under the light of the scattered fires on the battlefield.

“Cregan?! Cregan!” You call out and strain your throat as you do so, but he doesn’t come. There’s not even a glimpse, so you drop your head and face Addam’s lifeless face feeling powerless and useless.

“I’m sorry,” you weep and press your forehead on his. “I’m so sorry, Addam…why did you have to leave me too?”

You draw in a shaky breath and close your eyes as you rock his body back and forth with you.

You would cry harder, you would plead with every fiber of your being. You would be mad, and try to curse life, but you have already lost so much. You faced death so much that this time you feel so worn out. You can’t keep pleading for some miracle or for life to be just. You accept death even as your heart aches, even as your throat hurts with how much you’re crying, and even through the way your chest tightens and tightens to the point it feels like you can’t breathe.

When you let him go you do so without your usual fight because you don’t have the energy to keep falling apart every time you lose someone. You can’t do it again, so you press a kiss on his forehead, wipe your bloody hands over his face to close his eyes, and leave him next to Seasmoke.

“Astraea,” you call out with a shaky breath and walk away from Seasmoke and Addam to try and search for your dragon since you hear her moving on the ground nearby and hear Tessarion mewling out like an injured cat. You don’t care to look for Vermithor, you just have one dragon in mind so you can fly off the battlefield.

Alas, when you walk past Seasmoke’s corpse the first thing you notice is Cregan in the distance. He steals your attention, and you steal his too, but unlike you, he’s hit with fear when he sees the blood that covers your body because from where he stands he doesn’t know if it belongs to you or not. All he sees is blood and it seems like all he’s filled with is panic because you catch his lips part while his brown eyebrows knit together.

Now you should somehow show that you aren’t the one wounded, but the moment your eyes fall on him and you see that he’s looking right at you, you point your eyes behind you with a sorrowful look before you face him again and break into a more heartbroken sob whilst the agony you’re under heightens.

Yet you’re not paralyzed. You take a forward to try and meet him halfway, but the moment you do you catch the glimpse of something glistening against the firelight in the distance, so you look. You don’t know why, but you do, you stop in your tracks and look over. That’s when your breath catches when you notice an archer aiming his arrow at you.

There’s no mistaking it. His arrow is way too small to hurt Astraea or any of the other dragons, and due to all the beasts nearby, no one dares to be close. No one except him, so there’s no mistaking it. The archer is aiming at you, you meet his hardened gaze under the orange-yellow light of the flickering fire and make out his determination clearly because you have reflected those emotions in your own eyes many times before.

It’s why you know that it’s dangerous and impossible to break, and it’s why you try to throw yourself on the ground to hide and be able to throw off his aim, but the man quickly lets the arrow go. And just as you turn away to throw yourself on the ground, the tip of the arrow scrapes along the side of your head, making panic and shock hold you in place. All the while Cregan feels his breath catch and a paralyzing fear wash over him.

He wants to yell out your name and warn you to duck, but the archer is faster than he is at catching his breath and pulling himself back together after seeing the love of his life being hit on the side of the head. The archer actually manages to send off another arrow before the great fearless Lord of Winterfell, and you could react, managing to pierce the arrow right above your left breast, just inches from hitting your heart.

This time Cregan bellows out your name when you hit the ground as if startled out of his paralyzing shock and sprints over to throw himself on the first horse he finds to ride it towards you at full speed, fearing that the archer will go after you and finish the job he started. Yet perhaps his fear is now misplaced because your wounded dragon finally seems to be hit with the knowledge that you’re hurt and snaps her neck around, finding the archer responsible right away, and piercing her glare into him before blasting a ball of fire in his direction without needing to be told.

Astraea acts on her own will a moment too late to spare you from being hit, but she does counter out of anger, and pain that she doesn’t physically feel but feels through your tethered connection, managing to catch the archer on fire as he accepts his fate.

Once the archer is dead and no longer a threat, Astraea walks over to you and sniffs your unconscious body before she mewls out as if calling out your name. When she doesn’t get a response she nudges you to turn you on your back and then nudges you again as if pressing for a response, for a sign you’re okay, but your eyes remain closed and you continue to not move a muscle.

However, just like you, Astraea remains defiant on accepting a tragic reality and instead tilts her head to watch you closely. When she catches your chest moving with the breaths you take she backs away, and then flaps her wings to push herself off the ground and fly toward you to scoop you off the ground with her claws before Cregan can reach you.

He was right there, he was about to jump off his horse, but Astraea scooped you off the ground first.

“Astraea!” He calls out desperately. “Put her down! I can help her!” He tells your dragon and walks toward her, but as he gets close Astraea snaps at him as a warning before she turns away and flies off without caring that her wounds are bleeding or that the man she knew you trusted was there. She just thinks about you getting better and flies away to some place she knows you’ll be safe.

Or so she thinks…

~~~~~~

Even though you saw your father and your brothers in this limbo as you lie between a state of life and death, no one shines brighter than him, Aemond.

Many people would shame you for feeling such joy and putting him on such a high pedestal after the pain he has caused you, but how can you play the victim when you’ve hurt him too?

Besides, they wouldn’t understand how deeply you love him, and how much you miss him despite loving someone else and securing your future with your other lover.

No one will ever understand that he is the love and loss of your life and that’s okay because no one but one another needs to understand your intertwined souls.

“I will be back,” you tell your brothers breathlessly over your shoulder and don’t wait for their response. Your heart and every muscle in your body drive you to Aemond’s waiting embrace.

“<My love,>” he coos in Valyrian as he entangles his arms around you and holds you against him, letting you find solace in the sound of his beating heart that truly beats like no other.

“Aemond,” you whisper and nuzzle your face against his chest to breathe in his scent lost to your memory over the months he’s been dead, and time you’ve had away from anything that could smell like him.

“Aemond,” you say again, but this time your voice trembles as you grin and cry.

“I’m here,” he whispers against the top of your head before he presses a kiss on it and nuzzles his nose against your head.

Neither of you proceed to move away. You stay in each other's embrace until your hearts and your breaths are in sync, and you’re familiar with each other's warmth once again.

“Is this really how you see yourself?” You ask as you cup Aemond’s face and stroke his cheek with your fingers.

Aemond grabs your hand and drops his head, causing you to cover his eye and scar for a brief moment. When he lifts his head back up the scar that was left over his eye is gone, and the sapphire is replaced with his eye.

“I never minded the sapphire though,” you assure him as you move your hand back to his cheek. “I thought you looked sexy with it.”

Aemond scoffs and smiles timidly at the ground.

“But I know you never liked it,” you add and regain his attention.

“I missed you,” he says as he presses a kiss on your palm. “It’s not the same without you by my side…but even then…I was cruel to you…I hurt you even though you were the one that I loved the most.”

You sigh and take in his words before you interject. “I hurt you too. I’m not innocent.”

Aemond holds your gaze and doesn’t respond. He swallows thickly before he continues. “Perhaps, but I never should have done anything to hurt you or drive you away. I’m sorry. I wish…I could take it all back.”

Tears well in his eyes, making your heart ache. He was not one to cry so when he does it feels like a knife to your heart.

“I’m sorry too,” you don’t let him take all the blame even though he was avoiding yours. “Will you forgive me?”

His eyes narrow for a brief second before he nods gently and then presses you. “Will you forgive me?”

You smile at him and nod. “Of course.”

His lips twitch to a smile before he drops his forehead on yours and simply basks in your presence.

“We’re together now,” you whisper against him. “And we’ll never—” you cut yourself off as the sound of a girl laughing behind you cuts you off.

You want to ignore it. You’re going to ignore it, but then there’s a manly yet soft voice speaking that steals your attention, making you pull away from Aemond. When you peer over your shoulder you see two beautiful young women with white-silver hair and a tall and slim young man with them with the same colored hair.

Now they shouldn’t be familiar, you have never seen them in your life, but when you study their faces and their colored eyes, you recognize them. From head to toe, you know that they are your children; Aerion, Daenerys, and Daenys.

They’re not dead or in any state of in-between. You know that. You know they’re here by the sheer power of your mind and it’s need to keep you fighting.

Your mind wants to keep you away from making a choice that will seal your fate, and how better to spark your motivation than to show you a glimpse of your children?

The children you love the most, the children you are willing to give your own life for just to keep them alive. It’s true you have been selfish lately, you have put them last, but you want to get to know them. You want to watch them grow up. You don’t want to lose them, but they’re getting away. They’re walking away!

“Wait!” You shout and throw your hand out to try and stop them, but they don’t stop, they keep walking so you try to go after them.

Yet before you can get far, Aemond grabs your hand and stops you.

“What are you doing?” He asks, making you turn around to face him with panic that slowly falls as your face softens.

“I,” you breathe out and pause to look back at your children.

“What do you want?” Aemond queries.

You watch your children, you see them smiling and talking amongst themselves as they get further away and there’s no debate on what you want. Not anymore. Your choice is clear because of them.

“I want to meet the twins,” you say as you slowly start to slip your hand away from Aemond’s grasp. “I want to raise my children. I…I want to live!”

.

.

.

.

.

A/N-No break next week is a good one!

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

[bajimai]

rinupi: "it's a secret."

a few days ago @rinupi requested for me to write a short rindou x inui fic for her, and because I love rarepairs and have jumped aboard the rinupi ship, here it is (fic below the cut):

ship/pairing: rinupi (haitani rindou x inui seishu) request:

Rinupi sharing a kiss at the bike shop (inui monologue is like "it's our little secret.") and rindou walks out of the shop at the same time maybe Draken walks in and he's like ? Rindou: (waving) see ya later Seishu ~ Draken (to himself)" Seishu"…? I'll leave the ending up to you thank you 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

this fic is also on ao3!

x

Inui has a secret. 

It’s something he hasn’t told anyone yet, not even Koko (and god knows how he’ll react when he finds out). It’s a secret he hadn’t even planned on keeping, in the beginning — but it’s here now, in his arms, calloused fingers gripping the front of Inui’s shirt tightly as they kiss in the back of D&D Motors, and Inui never wants to let go.

“You need to leave,” Inui murmurs against Rindou’s lips when they part, tugging at a lock of purple hair when Rindou ignores him and tries to pull Inui into another kiss again. “Rindou.”

“Later,” his — boyfriend? Lover? What are they? — replies, wrapping his arms around Inui’s neck and pulling the taller man down impatiently. It sends Inui falling forward; he quickly braces himself on the counter behind Rindou with his hands, caging Rindou in and making him smirk.

“Do you want me to leave or not?” he teases, running his hands over Inui’s arms on either side of him. “Cos you’re not giving me a choice here.”

Inui rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move from his position. He’s too distracted by the sight of Rindou before him, flushed skin and kiss-swollen lips and dilated pupils, and the fact that he caused Rindou to look like that, messy and breathless and beautiful.

It’s five minutes to Draken’s shift. Rindou has to go. 

Inui doesn’t move.

Something must’ve shown on his face, because Rindou’s suddenly smirking up at him, his fingers tracing a path up the side of Inui’s neck to cup his jawline. 

“Hey,” he says, pulling Inui out of his thoughts, “if you’re just gonna stand there until Dragonboy comes, you might as well spend the time kissin’ me, ya know?”

With a slight tug, he brings Inui’s face down towards him, his other hand moving to the back of Inui’s neck as he pulls him into another kiss. It’s a deep, lingering one this time, not the hot and messy makeout they’d spent the last hour of Inui’s shift doing. It’s softer, slower; it moves something within Inui, something raw and intangible that he can’t quite grasp, but it makes him kiss Rindou back just as deeply, his hands moving on their own to grip Rindou’s waist.

Two minutes. Draken’s never late.

They lose themselves in the kiss, the world around them melting away into this stolen moment in time. Rindou is a secret to keep, and what they have isn’t for the world to know. Inui himself isn’t sure of what exactly they have between them, but he knows that for Rindou, he’ll take it to the grave and beyond. Whether Rindou will do the same, Inui doesn’t know, but as the silence around them gets broken by his lover’s soft moans, he starts to think that he doesn’t care, either.

“Leave,” Inui pants as they pull apart, forcing his self-control to resist claiming Rindou in another heated kiss. The man looks totally wrecked, breathless and wanting as he’s pinned against the counter, and it takes all of Inui’s rational mind to remember that Draken’s probably heading their way now. 

There’s a flicker of something in Rindou’s eyes, but Inui’s too slow to catch it. It looks like disappointment, but with Rindou, you can never really be too sure — he’s elusive, unattainable, a fleeting wind in Inui’s path that breezes through when it wants. 

And god, does Inui want. 

“Kicking me out already?” Rindou smirks, pulling himself up and fixing his clothes as Inui steps back to let him pass. Inui can’t help but stare at those nimble hands as they work efficiently through his hair, down his shirt, erasing any evidence of everything they’ve been through. Like it never happened.

“Can’t kick out what was never here,” Inui replies, his face a neutral mask as he watches Rindou head for the door. It’s the same as always, in the end: Rindou slips away unnoticed, and everything stays the same.

Except this time, when Draken enters D&D Motors at the precise timing of 6:00 PM, he’s blocked by a man on the way out.

“I’ll see you later, Seishu,” Rindou calls out to Inui, waving a hand in the air as he sidesteps Draken at the door, missing the look of pure shock on Inui’s face. “Wait for me, yeah?”

I’ll see you later. 

Inui’s still staring at the door when Draken walks in, his mind scrambling to process Rindou’s words. 

“‘Seishu’?” Draken echoes bemusedly, looking from the door to his colleague for an answer. “Since when were you close to that guy?”

Inui smiles to himself, finding the question amusing. It must make Draken more confused to see him like this, but what could he possibly say? 

In the end, he settles for the simplest answer, which is the truth. 

He looks at Draken and says with a shrug, “It’s a secret.”

x

if you enjoyed this and want me to write a short fic (about 300-500 words?) of your own (only for tokrev fandom!), feel free to drop a request in my ask, and I'll see if I can do it (no guarantees though)! guidelines here :)

[indooroutdoorboyfriend]

some misha lore i suppose sooo. yea. keep scrollin. 👍

been considering how insaneee his neuroticism is lately. it TRULY runs deep, it's absurd. every waking moment he is overwhelmed with this fear that he is going to commit some sort of unforgivable sin. or just, like, fuck up tremendously in general. misha is this oddball anxiety-sufferer where—instead of being a meek people-pleaser, like me—he is pretty aggressive about it. which i think makes it harder for him to view this as suffering; a commissar is supposed to be proud and uptight and scrupulous, that's sort of their whole thing.

if he were a soft little guy (he WAS, at one point, but let's ignore that) THEN he'd be a failure. he sees nothing wrong with holding himself to the highest possible standards, even if any sane person would tell him they're unattainable. in misha's mind, perfection is ABSOLUTELY attainable—he's simply not good enough yet. he just needs to work harder and become stronger. his ambition and perfectionism kinda go hand-in-hand; he wouldn't be goal-driven whatsoever if he weren't petrified of failure. so he definitely isn't doing what he's doing "for the imperium!!", though he'll probably tell you he is (that's the Correct answer, after all). he just wants to be entirely clean, entirely pure, stripped of any and all imperfection. he NEEDS to be useful. he NEEDS to do well.

in a way i think this makes him a bit more similar to heinrix lol (i will never not be comparing the two, i'm afraid). neither of them really have identities beyond being Useful Tools. both of them are constantly worried about screwing up and being disposed of—or, even worse, abandoned by everyone.

it's just that, in misha's case, he already HAS fucked up TREMENDOUSLY. and his primary concern is preventing anyone from figuring this out. so while he's trying to project this image of a Cool, Steely, Stoic Commissar™ that mask tends to slip quite a bit. so now he's not only worried about fulfilling his commissarial duties, and going above-and-beyond THAT, but also trying to prevent his greatest fuck-up being exposed to the world. the stress is eating him alive and it is fairly obvious to anyone with any amount of perception skill lol. he is incredibly self-serving in this way—more like a beast trying to do anything it takes to survive. kinda like how a drowning human will apparently push and shove and clamber over someone trying to rescue them, without any concern for THEIR wellbeing, just because their brain is absolutely freaking out over drowning??

he WILL try to kill idira (multiple times!) because she is a telepath and diviner (and also mutants = icky) and absolutely totally knows exactly what he's done and she IS going to rat on him and he WILL have his failures laid out before the entire galaxy. he WILL immediately jump to conclusions whenever you're speaking, no matter how friendly or neutral you're trying to be. he WILL perceive everyone as a potential enemy.

misha isn't under some illusion where he thinks he comes across well or anything. he knows that he's awkward and jittery. he knows his Cool and Collected persona isn't very convincing, to those who care to Lewk at all. but the alternative (in his eyes, anyway) is revealing himself to be an emotional chaotic mess of a man who can't do anything besides whimper and sob violently and plead for a swift death. which would obviously be far more embarrassing.

his Vibe comes across like...a rescue dog with a bite history, which keeps getting returned to the shelter because of its consistently poor behaviour? and it just keeps growing worse and worse over time due to all this stress? but it just isn't able to Be Normal long enough to stay adopted?? basically what i'm saying is, the 40k universe is NOT a no-kill shelter and misha's euthanasia date is in three hours (and he KNOWS somehow and is freaking out) lol.

[cookie-de-baunilha]

Hahaha it’s fine, I like reading long rants, especially if I agree with the matter.

I second everything you said about Jamie/John! 100% agree. John wasted decades of his life being obsessed with an idealized version of Jamie, a man who could never love him back the way John would want him to, because he’s too afraid of love. It’s easier for him to hold on to an unattainable person like Jamie and just keep on running away from the real thing™ (see the whole Percy situation and how John couldn’t be honest with his own feelings towards Percy).

And sadly, it seems like he is determined to stay in this state of miserability for the rest of this life. He’s frozen in time (Alexa, play right where you left me by Taylor Swift… except in that song the narrator actually had a relationship with the other person lmao)

The way he believes Jamie to be his “North” like giiirlll, get your shit together. No one should be putting anyone in that position. John needs to realize his true North is himself, not Jamie freaking Fraser.

But I blame it all on Diana. She doesn’t seem to believe that John pining for Jamie is a problem to John besides the obvious unrequited love tragedy. Which is crazy, considering how perfectly she has laid the groundwork for it. I had faith she would make John realize that at some point, especially after Percy being introduced in the main series, but the spoilers I had from Bees just made me realize that DG is not interested in doing anything like that.

That’s why I also feel like I have to read Bees before writing the meta (you see, I’ll be talking about everything: Jamie/John, John/Percy, Percy’s fate, John’s character development — or lack thereof). It’s already pretty long lol I’m very prolix, I’m afraid. But I need to get some facts straight before I continue to write it.

And there are a lot of things I simply don’t remember from the OL books and LJG books, which is concerning because I’m definitely not doing a whole ass Outlander rereading right now — I did jump on a BOTB rereading tho, and I blame it on my Percy/John obsession lol

(I know reading BOTB again before reading Bees will just make me even more mad at whatever the fuck Diana was trying to do in that book, but anywaysss)

P.s.: what you said about Percy and John being opposites and simultaneously challenging and balancing each other is sooo true!!

john/percy making me come back to tumblr in 2023 lmao

[anaveragebibliophile]

Cyclical Love

Young!Legolas x Thranduil x Wife!Reader 

Summary: Following He Comes First, we’re left wondering how Thran will react to his wife’s second pregnancy. And while that’s important, the real question is this: will Legolas enjoy hearing about his sibling that’s on the way? Continue reading to find out. 

PART 1: 

https://anaveragebibliophile.tumblr.com/post/657925630710743040/he-comes-first 

PART 2 

“...pregnant,” Thran said, and if you weren’t mistaken, a little breathlessly. 

“That’s correct, darling. We’ll have another Legolas to snuggle and love on in a few month’s time. Another little elfling that will finally complete our family.” 

Your husband’s eyes then became as large as dinner plates as these specific facts relayed themselves via hippocampus. Not only was he recognizing that another kind, beautiful, and jovial winë (little one) would be joining them, but he also was understanding that this seemingly unattainable wish of having another child had been granted in a manner of seconds by Valar (God). “Sweetheart, this is excellent news. Really. You have no idea how astounded I am. I cannot wait to meet our newest addition, and I am sure Legolas will be jumping for joy when he discovers that he will have a sibling to share more of his affection with. Honestly, if I did not have our little leaf cuddled against my chest, you can bet that I would be kissing you senseless at this very moment.” 

Grinning, you moved away from the doorway and settled yourself against the right edge of the bed and placed your right hand on top of your husband’s left calf. “Gi melin (I love you), you know, and I can’t  wait to see you become a father a second time. You will continue to be remarkable in that position.” 

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

A few weeks later, you found yourself reaching the fifth month of pregnancy. Although a bump hadn’t necessarily made itself noticeable, the other “benefits” of gestation took the opportunity to compensate for that deficit. For example, your hands and feet were achey and swollen beyond belief. So much so that you had to quit wearing your wedding band (which, keep in mind, was a point that was never reached during your pregnancy with Legolas). Also, the morning sickness reached a level of severity that you never experienced with your little leaf. It’s as if the little elfling inside of you is completely distrusting of any of the outside world’s delicacies and would much rather be nourished by your body’s nutrients. And while all of this was, indeed, tolerable (mainly because you knew the end result would be one of the most fruitful rewards of your and Thran’s existence) in your eyes, your son had a different outlook on the situation. Since you and your husand had decided to wait until you were further along before breaking the news, he couldn’t understand why his naneth wasn’t feeling well. Anytime you would shed a tear, he would shed one as well. And it was breaking your heart. 

“Thran,” you said, rubbing your tiny, almost imperceptible bump while looking in the mirror, “I think today’s the day that we share the good news with Legolas.”

Your husband came up behind you just then, wrapping his arms around your slowly, but steadily, growing stomach and setting his chin atop your head. “I believe you are right, sweetheart. Now that we are more certain the babe’s survival rate has increased, I think it is safe to let our son know that he will be a big brother soon.” 

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

Entering your darling boy’s chambers later that day, you both planned to do just that. 

“Legolas,” you chimed as you watched him play with the crocheted elven soldier that so clearly resembled his father, “would you be able to put your toys away for a few moments. Nana and Ada would like to talk with you about something. Something important.”

At the sound of your voice, Legolas’ head snapped up and turned to view the two most fantastic people in all of Middle Earth. Almost automatically a smile framed his face. “Nana! Ada! I missed you both,” he said, running to jump into his father’s waiting arms. “Nana, are you feeling any better after your nap?”

“Yes, darling. I’m doing so much better. Thank you for asking.”

“Legolas, as your Nana said, we would like to discuss something with you.”

“Certainly, Ada. What is it about?” 

“Well, how about we sit on your bed and continue the conversation?”

Your son nodded, gesturing with his arms to be released from his father’s loving embrace. Once back in a bipedal position, he took both of his parents’ hands and guided them to his bed. And as he sat between you and Thran, the floodgate of questions opened: What are we going to be discussing? Am I in trouble? Is something wrong? 

Hastily, you tried to mitigate his fears. “Darling, everything is fine. I’m fine. Ada’s fine. No need to worry on that front.” 

“Alright. But then why do you need to talk with me?” 

“Well, we have some news that we think is very exciting,” Thran started, “and we believe it is the proper to time to let you hear it.”

Hearing this, Legolas perked right up. “What is it, Ada? Oh, please tell me.” 

“Iôn nîn (My son), you obviously know that your naneth has not been feeling her best. However, we have not told you the reason for that being the case. You see, a babe is currently residing in Nana’s tummy and will remain there for a few more months so he or she can grow. And when that time is up, you will have another sibling--a brother or a sister--to spread your love to.” 

After a few moments, moments in which you and your husband began to perspire from sheer nervousness, you felt two tiny lips kiss your cheek. “A brother or sister! Nana, Ada, this is the best surprise ever! Thank you, thank you so much,” your son shouted, his emotions creating personified versions of happiness, joy, and bliss. 

“Oh, we are so happy to see this anticipation, Legolas,” you said. “I know that this sweet babe cannot wait to meet you in the flesh.”

“Really?”

“But of course, little leaf,” Thran interjected. “You are such a special boy and will be such a wonderful role model for your brother or sister.” 

“Well, I hope so because I love them so much already. As much as I do you and Nana.”

[dandydemidoesfandoms]

Between Us Pontification - Episode 10

Ok, ya girl has had a little bit of time to sleep and rewatch Episode 10.

(Am I still miffed, yes. To the ends of the earth.) And here are my thoughts...there are a lot.

However, I think it's important (and other tumblrs have likened to this already) to keep in mind that our beautiful idiots, so full of love that they throw at others, leaving nothing for themselves, do not know how to ask for what they need; What they want and also believe that they deserve it.

Team is dealing with basically a decade of untreated survival guilt and in some ways is afraid that his love for Win is a projection simply because Win is good to him and makes him feel wanted, precious, and loved. Especially when his Aunt still grieves (and also needs some damn therapy) and probably has made way too many comments about what could have been her son's life. Team is living for two people, not even content to do it, but as a kind of forced repentance for something we all know is not his fault. And his self-loathing is manifesting as insecurity, low esteem when it comes to worth, and pushing Win away to stop himself from loving any harder, deeper, or truly in fear of loss and disappointment. But with Win, he needs certainty, clearest of day level clarity of how their relationship is defined.

And then there is Win. Sweet little competent middle child king. As someone who is also the 2nd sibling, I am painfully aware of how much pressure, expectations, and loneliness is wrapped up in it. How the only way to remain sane is to be useful and self-sufficient. Wiew is baby but a fiercely loyal one (as he should be, I love that precious nugget), and Waan is crumbling under the suffocating role he is being forced to play by his crappy workaholic father who has lost the plot in more ways than one. He needs to give that man a raise and a 3-week long vacation (with Tul there to just smile at him and play video games) and stop yelling so damn much. These three need a hug, a nap, and a break. But I digress.

Back to Win, he is a giver. Hyperindividualism manifested as the kind mediator, the soft but strong protector. He sends out all the love he never gets to keep for himself and doesn't expect anyone to stick around. He has crafted this self-fulfilling prophecy and doesn't hold tightly to anyone. Waan has even mentioned to him that his kindness could turn into something that hurts him and the ones we love, which is what we end up seeing in Episode 10. Because with Win, what he needs is someone who looks at him and tells him that he is loved not for what he provides but for just being him. Someone who wants to refill the empty cup he has been pouring from.

This is a story about reciprocation and fear of abandonment. A song of isolation and anxiety.

The confession scene for many of us was not what we wanted because we have the sweetness in UWMA that we know is on the horizon. Death by a thousand cuts, is what we are getting. But the point of Between Us is to show the complete road of how our boys with horny hearts of gold go from being in two very different types of emotional exile to a supportive and loving relationship. And I would be remiss if I didn't remind myself and others that this is their FIRST serious relationship. These boys have little to no previous experience with big feelings and taking that leap and hoping the one they love is jumping with them and simultaneously catching them at the same time.

Its a terrifying and heartwrenching saga to go through in the best of scenarios and there is so much hurt, unsureness, and need to be wrapped up and it can be scary if you are waiting for the other shoe to drop while, in tandem, praying for it not to. And in a way, both Win and Team need this kind of tension and to be forced to make solid steps forward.

Unfortunately, Win must have a moment of fear, of being confronted by the consequences of the cavalier nature he has curated. His coolness, the aloof cat-like humility that makes him so darn unattainable. He has to be vulnerable instead of hesitating and testing the waters again. He must cannonball into the depth. And Team, in direct parallel and in some ways opposition, must learn to accept that he is loved and is worthy of love. To not be afraid of being too much, of burdening someone he finds important with his affection, of handing over his feelings and feeling the reciprocation. He must trust that someone swimming with him isn't going to end in pain and loss again.

And that brings us to the emotional rollercoaster at the end of Episode 10. This is called the Black Moment or the Defining Moment when we look literarily at this story arc. Internal conflict must be confronted and we all must accept that we are gonna get a whole lot of big feelings in the last two episodes.

Have faith, intrepid travelers, and keep your arms and feet inside the vehicle at all times.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing ii. | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 245

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

The next time you see Jungkook you’re slower than he is when it comes to avoiding his presence. You were smart but Jungkook was sneaky—a characteristic that allowed him to weasel his way into your heart and your mind.

“Sweets.” He calls, tone smiling and your heart flutters unconsciously to the term of endearment that sounded a lot more taunting than it should be.

“We’re in public.” You hiss, reminding him of what you were—his secret.

He seems pleased with your reaction like he enjoys flustering you till no end that proves his upper hand when it came to your dynamics. You weren’t sure when it happened but one day he decided he wasn’t your younger friend Jungkook but Jungkook who could dampen your panties with just his smile.

“You didn’t seem to mind at the party.” He shrugs.

You glare at him shifting away from his body that leans closer when he joined you in the study booth. You chose this particular place because it was secluded away from the main area of the library, tucked in a corner where no one ever goes because it was deadly silent.

So you have no idea what the hell is Jungkook doing here, especially when you knew he had a game earlier; given he’s still in his jersey and with the musky scent of sweat and his laundry detergent.

“I’m studying.” You clip.

You avoid Jungkook’s gaze because you know one look and you’ll melt. But you needed to toughen up because you weren’t going to fall pliant to his touch anymore, or his smile or his smooth words. You remember who he is and who you were.

“Me too.” Jungkook retorts, purposefully sliding closer with a random book he’s snatched from the shelves.

You purse your lips and straighten your back, focusing purely on the task at hand rather than the fact that Jungkook was trying his best to make as much contact with your shoulder as he possibly could with his own.

Jungkook huffs when he realises that you weren’t budging, fully stuck in a half-study-half-dazed mode whenever he was around. What he didn’t know was that with every press against your stature, was a flutter in response.

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” You mutter.

Jungkook grins when he realises you’re casually flipping through your textbook while you await his response. He leans on his palm while staring straight at your face, eyes set directly on your cheek that it makes you flush harder.

“I am.” He replies smoothly, “With you.”

You roll your eyes at the flirtatious attempt even if it did make your stomach feel funny. Jungkook made you feel things out of your own control but you knew better than to continue falling for the same tricks over and over again.

“I need to study so leave me alone.” You clip.

Jungkook pouts in a mocking manner before leaning back into his chair, wrapping his arm around the back of your chair.

“You’ve been avoiding me, sweets.”

You freeze at the statement, fingers tightly gripping the sheets of paper while you force yourself to keep a neutral expression.

“No, I haven’t.” You say tightly.

Jungkook scoffs, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been avoiding me ever since the night of the party.”

The night of the party was a reminder to yourself that Jungkook was horrible for you because he made you act out of your rationale, willing you to do things that you’d never do. And you made that mistake once and you weren’t going to make it again.

“And if I was?” You retort.

Jungkook tongues the inside his cheek before looking ahead, a light smirk painting his face. It’s an expression you know intimately because it’s a look he only has when he knows you’ve always been pliant for him, ready to please.

“Then I’d be really disappointed.”

“Good. I was serious.” You snap, eyes finally darting to his face in slits and he’s already looking at you.

“But you’re not pushing me away, are you?” Jungkook asks in a low voice, and somehow his palm has splayed itself on your thigh, spreading them wide enough for him to rub tempting circles on your skin.

You don’t, because while his touch is scalding it’s just as addictive.

“Leave me alone, Jungkook.” You say through a shaky breath.

He chuckles darkly and then his nose is nudging your jaw, breath hot on your neck while he hikes his hand higher up your skirt.

“You don’t seem like you want me to leave you alone, hm?” He mumbles onto your neck, causing goosebumps to arise.

Your grip on the desk tightens when he brushes his finger over the fabric of your panties and you’re mortified to realise that it’s already damp. Jungkook realises this too and he chuckles against your jaw, biting into the flesh that has you gasping.

“I-I need to study …” You choke when he presses firmly onto your clit, your hips jumping at the stimulation.

“I heard you, sweets.” He hums, “Think you can multitask?”

You hate how he reduced you to nothing but mush, reasoning and pride out the window when he pushes your panties aside to spread the slickness of your pussy with his index finger.

“J-Jungkook …” You whimper.

His nose is pressed against your cheek when he trails his lips across your jaw, down your chin and eventually your neck. The feeling of his lips is familiar but distant and it only makes your heart clench at the unattainable feeling.

You remember that he wasn’t yours. That he is as much Jennie’s as you were his; and your eyes widen in alarm, hands reaching out to grip at his wrist before he can slip a digit into your leaking hole.

“I said we can’t keep doing this.” You say weakly.

Jungkook frowns at you when you pull away completely, crossing your legs so that he won’t have easy access anymore. Your cheeks are hot and it’s both in arousal and embarrassment because you’ve easily allowed him into your heart via your body yet again, despite your own mind warning against it.

“What gives?” He asks irritatedly like he doesn’t understand why you’re pulling away.

You don’t expect him to, not when he has all the options in the world and the only person that sees you like this is … him.

“I’m busy.” You lie through your teeth. You haven’t been paying attention to your books the moment he’s arrived and you were far too distracted to continue.

Jungkook scoffs, narrowing his eyes at you when you firmly avoid his stare.

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You’ve been acting weird ever since the party and you literally just upped and left when I joined you and Jimin the other day.” He bites, “So I’m asking again: what gives?”

You keep your lips shut because you don’t have the courage to tell him that it’s your heart that’s tired. That you don’t think you can do this anymore because it hurts too much when he pulls away and pretends like nothing happened, only to return when it’s convenient.

“You know I don’t like it when people don’t answer me, baby.” He growls, mouth impossibly close to your ear.

You tighten your grip on the table as you clench your jaw, trying to even out your breathing so you don’t say anything rash.

“You’re really testing my patience here, ______.”

And you’re still floored at how this was the same Jungkook that used to thank you with a wide grin every time you offered help with his homework in high school, or when he’d hold umbrellas for the both of you. This was Jungkook, but older, and a lot meaner.

“I just need to study, Jungkook …” You say softly, hoping he’d take that as his queue to leave.

“And I just want to have fun, sweets.” He whispers, lips close to the shell of your ear.

The word throws you off, and you feel the anger rise.

“Fun? That’s all I am to you? A fun time?” You fume.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sudden one-eighty shift of your mood when you snap at him. But like you mentioned, he wasn’t the same, shy Jungkook that used to follow you around everywhere—this was someone different.

“What are you implying?” He furrows his brows at you.

“I’m saying—” You poke into his chest with fierce eyes, “—I don’t want to be just a fun time anymore. I’m done with … whatever this is, Jungkook.”

Jungkook locks his jaw before staring at you with dark and unreadable eyes.

“You say this now but we both know that I’m the only one that can make you scream the way you do.” He whispers.

You shiver but stand your ground.

“I don’t care. What my mind and what my body wants are two different things. And I’m telling you that all of this has to stop.” You gesture to your bodies.

“What is this really about?” He sighs, “Come on. Tell me like a big girl.”

He leans back, brash and with a lazy smirk on his face like he’s half-expecting you to apologise and fall back onto him, mouth on his cock like an apology letter. But you’re so so tired and your heart hurts because you think of Jennie. You think of the same mouth that holds all the words to hurt you on hers, and you prepare for it.

“It’s because I’m done with you, Jungkook!” You seethe, “You can’t have two girls at once especially when you’re only halfway in my door and living in her house.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, “Two girls—?”

“I saw the video of you and Jennie.” You whisper, “I don’t know when the fuck that happened. If it was before you pulled that stunt in the bathroom or after—but I don’t want anything to do with that.”

You quickly clear your belongings and stand up to leave, but Jungkook has a tight grip on your wrist so that you can’t walk away.

“Why are you mad about that?” He asks, genuinely confused.

You gape at him, opening and closing your mouth to find the right words to say but they all fall short.

“Why—what? Are you not hearing yourself? Of course, I’m fucking pissed! You finger me like some fucking pornstar and kiss me like I’m yours and the next thing you know it you’re kissing some other girl while pretending like I don’t exist. Like we weren’t friends that grew up together or the fact that you and I were close before you turned into this asshole.”

Jungkook blinks at you.

“We are still friends …” He says slowly.

You want to rip your hair out because having this conversation only tires and hurts you further, but Jungkook is oblivious to the internal dilemma that you were having with your own heart.

“Friends don’t do this shit to each other, Jungkook.” You hiss, “You don’t fuck someone over because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.”

“Why are you acting as if you weren’t as into it as I was?” Jungkook retorts, tone defensive.

“It’s because I was! I was so fucking into it that it blindsided me! I don’t do this shit, Jungkook—not with anyone else and it just had to be you that this happened to me with.”

Jungkook pauses, and his eyes turn impossible dark. His face is terrifying when he inches closer, all evidence of other emotions but blankness and fury painting his features.

“If it wasn’t me then no one would’ve ever touched you.” He spits as your eyes widen at his tone, “I did you a favour by deciding that you were worth it. And maybe you’re not because clearly you got attached and you want shit to be exclusive, right?”

You stare at Jungkook because Jungkook was mean but never like this. Never personal and poking at all your unhealed wounds.

“Jung—”

“Shut up,” He sneers, “I strung you around because I felt bad for you. Twenty-five and a virgin? If not me then who else, hm? Jimin wouldn’t touch you and neither would Tae. You’re just an uptight prude with a stick up her ass that can’t do anything but study. And yeah—I kissed Jennie. Right after I fingered you so hard that you cried because at least she won’t just sit there like a starfish and take whatever’s given to her.”

You blink at Jungkook, arms limp by your sides when he spits all the venomous words to your face, unapologetic when his eyes burn with intense disdain for the person he was talking to.

Everything is numb, and you can’t react because you don’t know how to. But you feel a tear slip past your eye because it’s hot—it’s hot compared to the cold atmosphere that crackles in the air.

Every single one of your insecurities was thrown out the window without a single care and Jungkook looked damned sure that he meant every word. And it hurts even more because you remember confiding him in the same things he was weaponising.

You don’t say anything at all, but your body reacts and more tears fall despite your mortification.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Jungkook.” You say through a choked breath, shoving past him with your belongings tucked tightly against your body.

Jungkook doesn’t even chase after you, frozen into place with his own words that left his mouth.

[jimlingss]

i have a request for something Taehyung! maybe taehyung christmas/holiday??? OR taehyung and the prompt "Give me attention"??? honestly i will take anything taehyung 🤩

↳ The Best Friend’s Older Brother Cliché

2.3k || 99% Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Best Friend’s Older Brother!AU

Taehyung is your best friend’s older brother. 

It’s so entirely cliché that you cringe whenever you think about it, but it’s true and it happened…..you had the tiniest crush on him in high school. Okay— it was a big, fat crush. But you weren’t willing to admit it, not then and certainly not now. Mostly because it’s weird. Plus there’s the fact that it would be breaking the code of honour between besties. Sisters before misters.

The last thing you would want is to make Joy upset. 

But when you came home from college in the summer and Taehyung returned from his own studies abroad...you didn’t expect him to look like that.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“H-Hey.”

Taller. Leaner. Better dressed.

Maybe it had just been a long time since you’ve seen Taehyung. Maybe you had gotten desensitized but the long period away from him made you hyper aware of his existence again. Either way, seeing him made you realize that he had very much become a man.

He was no longer just the unattainable, cool teenage boy that you swooned over but left behind nonetheless in your coming of age years. And that fact slapped you across the face.

You didn’t expect for him to be like that either.

To smile at you like that. To strike up conversations. To be interested in what you were doing, where you were going.

“What are you majoring in again?”

“Anthropology.”

“Really? That’s super cool. I took one anthropology class when I was a freshman. Do you like it?”

“It’s not too bad. I think it’s interesting.”

Taehyung smiles faintly. “I always knew you were smart.” 

It was one date. 

You came over. Joy was abruptly called in to fill a shift at her summer job at the ice cream parlor.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I swear I’m going to choke Jimin.”

“And then who’s gonna have to bail you out? Get going before you’re late.”

“Promise we’ll hang out more tomorrow.”

“Have fun at work!”

Taehyung happened to be there, hanging around the house, and he offered to drive you home.

“You really don’t have to.”

“I’m not going to make you take the bus in this hot weather, you know that right?” The corner of his mouth tugs easily. “Just get in the car.”

Except you both stopped to grab a small bite. A burger and fries. While sitting out at the park.

You’re not sure if that even constitutes as a date — there was nothing said about it, no mention made, all entirely too casual to be considered one. But it was the first time you and Taehyung were alone together.

Okay, if that counts...then technically it was two dates.

You and Joy went out to Jungkook’s party. She had a little too much to drink and the pair of you needed a ride home afterwards. Naturally, Taehyung was the one who picked you up in his car, begrudgingly, as Joy fought him before she laid down in the backseat, but he still flashed you that smile.

“Had fun tonight?”

“It was alright.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t end up going home with him.”

“Who?”

“You know. That guy with the glasses you were talking to on the lawn.”

“Namjoon? Oh no, we’re just friends.”

“Hmm. Is that so.”

After Joy was put to bed and tucked in, Taehyung asked if you wanted to stick around to watch a movie. You might or might not have cuddled into him during those three hours, but really was it cuddling? He just slung his arm over the couch where you were sitting and you leaned into his chest.

The two of you were just getting comfortable.

Alright, if that counts, then it was three dates but just three!

Taehyung asked you out personally, but it was to help him pick a gift for Joy’s birthday. He drove you downtown and you walked together in the streets, checking out boutiques before parading around the mall.

“What do you think?”

“Joy hates camo print and she doesn’t need another backpack, Taehyung.”

“Perfect! So she’ll love this then.”

He ended up getting a sweater she’d been eyeing for months.

When it became dark and you got hungry, instead of being dropped off at home, you went to the night market together on a whim. You snacked, had conversations and exchanged numerous stories. You still remember the laughter and how much your cheeks ached when you finally jumped into bed that night.

But before the summer ended, before you both left for your respective colleges, he wanted to talk.

“I had a lot of fun this summer.”

You eye him. “What did you even do this summer?” 

“Hang out with you.” Taehyung grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I liked it.”

“Good. I might be hurt if you thought this entire time was awful.”

“I like you too much to ever think that. But...hear me out. What would you think we made things offici—

“We’re going to be super busy,” you interrupt in a panic, having a sense of where he was going with this. “...going to different schools and all that.”

You search his expression while schooling your own. Taehyung stays silent for a second and tries to read you. You’re not sure how successful he is.

“Right.”

“I’ll contact you, Taehyung.”

He smiles at that and eases. “Okay. Yeah. Sounds good. You can call or text me anytime.”

“Anytime?” You try to lighten the mood by shooting him an incredulous look. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“If it’s you, it wouldn’t be a bother. Trust me.”

Except when you got back, you didn’t call him. You didn’t text him either.

You only saw him briefly when Joy would occasionally facetime him in the same room as you, when you were merely a figure in the background and Taehyung would ask who it was.

“Y/N, of course, who else?”

And you would give a small wave.

There were no conversations, no small talk, no exchanges of laughter. But it was better that way. Otherwise, you wouldn't know what Joy would say, how she’d react. You don’t even know if he’s serious about you. And you’re too scared to find out the answers to any of these questions.

It didn’t matter anyway. Deep down, you know Taehyung should be kept at a distance. You know it would be better if these feelings could fade away as a sweet, brief summer romance.

What you didn’t anticipate is to come over to the Kim’s for the holidays a few months later.

“Where are you going?”

Taehyung’s following after you, trailing at your heels like a lovesick puppy. “And don’t tell me you’re showering because you already used that excuse to avoid me today.”

You spin around, masking your startlement at just how close he is, and you frown. “I’m not avoiding you.”

The corner of his mouth tugs. “We shouldn’t lie to each other, sweetheart, even if you have the tendency to do that.”

You feel hot in your face from the pet name. “I never lied to you.”

Taehyung raises his brows. The both of you know then and there it’s a lie.

“My empty phone says differently.”

You cross your arms defensively. “I never promised I’d remain in contact. I was just...busy with classes.”

“Oh. Another lie again.” Taehyung grins, and he exhales softly causing a hundred goosebumps to raise along your skin when you feel the warmth of his breath. “You should really stop your bad habit, Y/N.”

You take a step back and he steps forward.

Before you know it, he’s cornered you in the dark hallway, staring at you intently before his half-lidded eyes flicker to your lips.

You swallow hard. “Go annoy your sister instead.”

“Why should I?” His mouth slyly curls. “I like you way better.”

For the entire duration of the break so far, the both of you have been sneaking around the whole time. From Taehyung instigating a game of footsies under the dinner table to whispering in your ear when no one’s looking to winking at you from across the room so quickly that you’d miss it if you blinked. You feel his affectionate hand on the small of your back when he slides by you, feel his gaze when his shoulders graze yours, and you feel the tickle in your tummy when his voice lowers into that seductive, husky pitch. 

During the summer, he was kind and friendly Taehyung. Cautious when it came to you. Hesitant to look your way.

But this time, he’s intensified. Flirtatious. Bold. Pulling out all stops.

Maybe it’s because he’s pissed that you didn’t contact him like you said you would. Maybe because he doesn’t understand why you’re restraining yourself, and he feels the need to push to know. Maybe because he suspects you know he likes you, and you like him — he wouldn’t be wrong. 

But either way, his new brazen approach was making you weak in your knees.

“Your mom’s coming,” you mutter while pressing your hands to his chest. You don’t know how or why he feels so firm.

“She isn’t. But even if she was, she’d be more than happy to know we’re together.”

“W-We’re not together, Tae.”

“That could change right now.”

“I...I can’t.”

His thick brows furrow. “Why not? I like you, Y/N, a lot.”

You swallow hard, feeling scrutinized under his heavy gaze. Taehyung’s beauty is lethal when he’s this close and you feel an urge to brush away the dark strand that’s fallen in front of his forehead from his neatly styled hair. It was a contrast to the casual hoodie and sweatpants he was wearing. He was handsome and cozy, ready to stop hearts or be hugged like a teddy bear.

It didn’t help that he was saying these kinds of things either. “I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” His voice drops a pitch. “For the past few months, I’ve been thinking about the summer and you. The entire time, I was waiting for you to call me, to text me. Do you know what that’s like?”

“Taehyung.”

“We can make this work. I want to make it work, so don’t make me wait anymore.”

You gaze at him, breath hitched in your throat and your self-control meets its limit. You practically leap onto Taehyung, heart thundering against your rib cage, standing on the tips of your toes — all to kiss him.

It’s soft and unhurried. 

Taehyung is caught off guard, but then you feel his wide smile against you. Immediately, his strong arm reaches for your waist and he tugs you in. A yelp escapes your throat as your bodies become flush against one another. Taehyung’s other hand presses against the wall behind you and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue licks into your mouth and you groan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He tastes like sugar cookies, smells like citrus, and absolutely makes your knees weak.

You’re not sure how long you and Taehyung make out for, swapping spit like horny teenagers without experience.

It’s not until you hear a— “what the hell!” — do you break apart.

Joy is standing at the end of the hall and you shove Taehyung away from you, wide-eyed. He stumbles back, equally surprised.

“I-I can explain!”

Joy’s jaw has gone slack and you realize she’s waiting for said explanation.

“I….I…we….umm….”

Taehyung looks at you and then at his sister, opening his mouth to rescue you from this mortifying experience. But his sibling beats him to the punch—

“Look.” She raises her hands and you brace yourself. She wouldn’t end your years of friendship over this, would she? Then again, you can’t blame her if she did. “You don’t have to make this weird. It isn’t weird unless you make it weird. So I’ll just pretend I didn’t see anything.”

“Wait.....what?” That was certainly not the reaction you were expecting. You think you’re more taken aback than she is. “You’re okay with this? You’re okay if we’re dating?”

Joy nonchalantly shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. You’re adults, so you can make your own decisions and I kind of had a feeling there was something going on anyway.” She smiles and looks at her older brother. “Taehyung, you’re way too obvious. The biggest gift under the tree is for her from you.”

He grins. “You caught me there.”

You’re shell-shocked at how unconcerned she is and seemingly supportive at that.

“You knew?”

“Of course I do. We’ve been friends for what, ten years? I knew you had a crush on my brother back then. So if anything, it’s about time.” Joy raises her fist at Taehyung. “You better not make Y/N cry or I’ll make you cry.”

He snorts. “Wow, thanks.”

“Anyway, continue.” Joy lazily gestures. “But we’re watching a movie in five so be quick.”

Your best friend leaves to the bathroom where she was heading to in the first place and you turn to Taehyung who has an amused grin. “Well?”

“I don’t know.” Your mind is reeling at everything that’s happening and how real this is becoming. “For some reason in my mind, I thought that would go way worse.”

“Is that why you were so worried? You didn’t need to be. Joy likes you way more than she likes me, so if anything I’d be the one getting the flack.” Taehyung smiles and leans in. “But does this mean we can finally make it official? Can I call you my girlfriend already?”

You sigh and lift your arms to loop around his neck again. He leans in for another kiss, but you stop short an inch— “Depends on what that gift under the tree is.”

Taehyung grins and before you can pull away, he tugs your waist into him once more. 

This time you kiss each other unabashedly. 

[hollandsrecs]

smut masterlist (1)

links last checked 8/1/2021 | more masterlists

—minors dni with these fics—

a golf lesson by hollandcrush

aftercare by dlwritings

summary: not everyone cares about their first time. some people just wanted to get it over with. you had always wanted it to be special. a special time with a special guy. but after ages of never finding that guy, you decide to just get it over with. tom helps with the aftermath of the disaster.

all i need by marvelouspeterparker

summary: you’ve noticed that tom’s really been on edge lately. when you ask how you can help, he knows the perfect way. 

best friend’s brother by angelic-holland

summary: you’re harry’s best friend. so tom’s off limits. besides; he’s older, he’s constantly got girls trying to hook up with him. there’s absolutely no way he’s be interested in you. right?

body by toms-gf

summary: tom waking you up really isn’t as bad as it seems

breathe life into me by angelhaz11

summary: tom feels far away from himself when he’s away from you. when he’s home, it’s an entirely different story.

cheers, darling by tomsrebeleyebrow

curiosity bit the cat by spidey-sophie

summary: at the biggest halloween party of the year you meet a mystery guy dressed as spider-man. you haven’t even seen his face, but somehow you just can’t get enough of him.

dirty little joy by farfromparker

summary: tom used to do porn, you’re more than interested when you stumble across one of his old videos.

dirty truth or dare by keepingupwiththeparkers

enjoy the show by hollandcrush

excited by tommybaholland

summary: the one where you and tom try to experiment with your sex life; an unexpected accessory catching your eye...

feel your love by angelic-holland

summary: they say when you take away one sense, the others are heightened… tom really likes to be blindfolded during sex.

good by flower-cage

summary: you just want to be good for him.

grab it hard by tomsrebeleyebrow

summary: what could go wrong when tom decides to post a video on his instagram story? pretty much everything. and now, one single thought runs into your head: taking advantage of it fully.

highway to heaven by ptrbprkrs

summary: just you and tom on a road trip having the time of your lives. kisses, intimacy, and motel sex included.

hold back by flower-cage

summary: tom’s shooting a movie and you can’t stop bruising him during sex.

home alone by ballyhoobarnes

summary: you come over for an innocent movie night with tom.

impatient by thirsttrapholland

summary: tom has agreed to accompany you to a dinner party, but he is getting impatient.

into the woods by rosyparkers

summary: it’s not easy to pretend you’re not in love with your best friend and don’t want to jump all one hundred and seventy-three centimeters of him. it’s even harder when it’s just you and him, stuck in a remote cabin in the woods, after your other friend bails.

irreconcilable differences by bi-writes

summary: “…he was still playing games, but he was no longer the player.”

is it time? by creatively--challenged

summary: tom is finally home and y/n needs to tell him how she feels. she’s buried it for so long but it doesn’t want to stay buried any longer. tom is finally home and he needs to tell her how her feels before he misses his chance and finds her unattainable. 

just can’t get enough by marvelouspeterparker

summary: you and tom have been doing this friends with benefits thing for a while now, repressing your feelings, playing this twisted, toxic, jealousy fueled game. but when will you both just accept the truth and be honest with each other?

let me show you by hollandcrush

summary: tom breaking down your walls to show you how much you finally mean to him. physically.

love on set by selfcarecap

summary: you’ve never kissed anyone while filming. actually, you’ve never kissed anyone, ever. now you have to have your first kiss on set for the latest film you’re acting in, with tom holland no less. but luckily he’s there to practise with you beforehand, or at least you hope you can gather the courage to ask him.

make you feel better by pensivepeter

summary: you’re on your period, and your wonderful boyfriend helps you relieve some of the discomfort in the best way.

manual labour by kiwi-bitchez

movie night by ballyhoobarnes

summary: a movie night leads to more than planned when you discover just what tom gets ups to after you’ve left.

no bottoms by starkissedparker

summary: one of tom’s favorite things in the world was to come home to you smiling in the kitchen or lounging on the couch, but most of all his favorite thing was to come home to you in bed. 

no knock knocks by madmadmilk

summary: tom, your sweetie pie stupid roommate, has a bad habit of walking into your room unannounced.

no nut november by wazzupmrstark

summary: tom takes the no nut november bet with harrison leaving you confused as to why he’s acting so strange.

no knock knocks by madmadmilk

not just a fantasy by worldoftom

summary: “tell me your fantasy, i’ll tell you mine.”

on the house by hollandcrush

summary: after a hard day, tom goes to a small countryside pub to relieve some stress.

one track mind by ballyhoobarnes

summary: loving, whole-hearted tom smut.

prosecco courage by 2018shawn

summary: the one where prosecco made you needy.

risky insta live by terrifictomholland

summary: what happens when you decide to give your boyfriend a little treat during his instagram live? 

safe with you by hufflepuffhollander

summary: as an a-list celebrity, there can be a lot of threats out there. luckily, you have a bodyguard that keeps close by, in more ways than one. but always being watched comes with its own problems.

seventeen minutes in heaven by pensivepeter

summary: tuwaine can’t set a timer to save his life and your relationship with tom - already teetering on the edge of friendship and something more - comes to a head no pun intended, creating a recipe for an eventful game. 

sneaky by softspideyboy

summary: tom and reader get heated until harrison comes home early.

something new by starktonyx

summary: you surprise tom by deep-throating him for the first time.

thick(er) by tommybaholland

summary: the one where you acknowledge how good your man looks right now while beginning to shoot the spider-man sequel.

true reflections by uglypastels

summary: tom shows you why he loves you, even when you don’t see it.

unexpected by angelic-holland

summary: you didn’t know your best friend feels the same way about you, until you’re forced to share a bed in a hotel one night.

web shooter by heyhihellowhatsup0

summary: you see tom in his new spider-man suit for the first time and decide to take advantage of it.

welcome home by thirsttrapholland

summary: tom’s been gone for three weeks and you want him to know how much you’ve missed him.

why it’s fun to be a tease by lousimusician

“you heard me. take it off.” by keepingupwiththeparkers

summary: what’s that tom? you want to get freaky under the table in the middle of a restaurant? okie dokie.

you up by thirsttrapholland

summary: you had told yourself that you would just ignore him this time; that this would be the time that you wouldn’t give in.

[nextdoor-neighbors]

It’s Always Been You

Request: @divergirl99

Hey could I get a Fred x reader where maybe the reader is ginny or Rons best friend since they were young and the weasleys are all protective of here especially the twins and maybe they find her upset cause he boyfriend cheated and Fred gets angry and ends up getting in a fight with the ex and then confesses?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, violence (punching), blood

You walk down the corridors of school, on the search for your boyfriend, Adrian Pucey. You have a free period - your last period of the day before dinner - and you know he does, too, which usually you spend together, but today, you can’t find him.

“Ron,” you call when you see your best friend, who’s walking with Harry. He looks up at the sound of your voice and smiles, turning to say something to Harry before making his way over to you.

“Hey, Y/N. What’s going on?”

“Have you seen Adrian? I can’t find him anywhere.”

Ron frowns. He’s never been a fan of Adrian, with him being a Slytherin and all, but considering Adrian has always treated you well, Ron has kept his mouth shut over the last few months that you’ve been in your relationship.

“No, I haven’t,” Ron says, “but I’ll let him know you’re looking for him if I do.”

You smile and thank him before continuing your search. You turn down a hall of empty classrooms, not sure why he would be down here, but you decide to look anyway. You peer into the classrooms, stopping abruptly when you stop two figures in one of them, locked in what appears to be a passionate snog session. You blush at catching them, averting your eyes, but quickly do a double-take when you think that you recognize one of the figures.

You know that messy black hair and Quidditch jumper all too well.

You shove open the door to the classroom, and the two jump apart in shock at the noise. You make eye contact with Adrian, your heart dropping to your stomach, and immediately turn to leave, tears already burning at the backs of your eyes.

“No, no, Y/N, I promise, it wasn’t what it looked like, I-” he calls after you, but you keep walking away, past the few other students in the halls with your head down and tears blurring your vision. You don’t know how to feel; you’re devastated, because you didn’t think he would ever do something like this to you, but you’re also shaking from your rage, and as much as you want to scream at him, you don’t think you can do so without sobbing. So, you opt for the silent treatment.

Eventually Adrian gives up calling after you, so, you hide out in the prefects’ bathroom for the rest of the period. You don’t want to show your face at dinner, in case he tries to talk to you, but the grumble of your stomach in the silent bathroom says otherwise.

You push yourself up off the cold tile floor, wiping your tears away as you gaze at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are red and your skin blotchy from crying your eyes out for the entire period, so you splash some water on your face until you think it’s slightly less noticeable. At least, you hope it is.

You venture out into the halls, already dreading whatever you’re about to face. Your heart aches. You really thought he was a good guy, but of course, you were wrong. Per usual. You always had dated the wrong guys, who all ended up breaking your heart in one way or another. You thought Adrian would be different, and you’re beyond mad at yourself for ever thinking he would be. 

You don’t think you’ll ever find a good guy. I mean, there is someone you’ve always wanted, someone who you think would treat you well, but he’d never want you. Why would he?

You avoid eye contact with anyone as you make your way into the Great Hall, finding your normal spot between Ron and Ginny. You had hoped they wouldn’t ask questions, or that you could play off your heartbreak well enough that they wouldn’t notice, but then again, you’ve been friends with the Weasley family since forever. They’re all very protective of you, especially the twins, who are two years older than you. Of course someone is bound to notice.

Sure enough, before you even fully sit down, George - who’s sitting across from you - says, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You look up at him, forcing a very weak smile and shaking your head.

“Nothing,” you say quietly.

“That’s bullshit,” Fred adds, his eyebrows furrowing in his concern, “You can tell us.”

You look at Fred, and just as you’re about to admit what happened, Adrian comes up behind him. You look up at him, and Fred must notice the change in your expression as your stomach twists, because he spins around in his seat.

“Y/N, can I talk to you?” Adrian asks. You fight the urge to start crying again as you make eye contact with him, instead, mustering up all of your courage.

“No,” you say, “Adrian, we’re done.”

You don’t even have to look at Ron, Ginny, the twins, or any of the other people listening to know how shocked they probably appear. You watch as Adrian’s face drops, but he doesn’t budge.

“Please, Y/N,” he practically begs.

“Do you not understand what no means, Pucey?” Fred replies before you can, getting up out of his seat and standing up, towering over Adrian.

Adrian’s face immediately twists into a scowl as he looks up at Fred. You can’t find the words to tell Adrian to go away or Fred that it’s okay, you can handle it, as you watch the boys with wide eyes, fearing what’s about to happen next.

“Stay out of it, Weasley,” Adrian snaps, before turning back to you, pleading again, “Y/N, you don’t understand. It was a mistake, and if you’d just let me explain-”

Fred keeps his eyes trained on Adrian, as if daring him to speak to you one more time. You find your words, as the entirety of the Great Hall is listening in on your conversation:

“I think I understand perfectly, Adrian, because there’s not much to explain about why I found you kissing another girl.”

“You did what?” Fred shouts, and you watch as he pushes Adrian with his hands flat on his chest. Adrian falls back, his face contorting in rage. At this point, the other house tables have erupted into noise, students standing up and trying to get a good look at the fight.

Adrian pushes himself up, rushing towards Fred, as Fred yells something about how he just lost the greatest thing that ever happened to him and how he’s going to pay for hurting you.

Adrian’s fist connects with Fred’s jaw, knocking Fred’s head back, but Fred reacts instantly, socking Adrian straight in the nose. The blood starts flowing from Adrian’s nose immediately, and you yell at them to stop, but neither boy listens to you as more punches are thrown.

Thankfully, a few teachers have made their way over, and with a swish of her wand, McGonagall separates the two boys. You stand there, your heart pounding like crazy in your chest, looking between Fred and Adrian, who stand a few feet apart, giving each other the death glare. Adrian wipes his sleeve across his nose, smearing his blood all over the fabric. You’re sure that he’s going to have a black eye tomorrow, as well. Fred, on the other hand, looks better off, with seemingly only a puffy, split lip.

You’re at a loss for words as you watch Fred and Adrian be escorted out of the Great Hall by Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore. Fred looks over as he walks away, and you make eye contact with him for a split second. In that second, he looks you up and down before turning away. Your stomach flips at that, but in a good way.

You don’t know what to say to him later. Do you thank him? You know that Adrian will never bother you again, thanks to this, but you also know that the whole school is going to be talking about this: about Adrian cheating on you, and about Fred’s reaction.

Your heart feels like it’s being squeezed inside your chest as you think about that. Why did Fred react like that? I mean, you know he’s protective of you, but so are George, Ginny, and Ron, and they didn’t jump Adrian like that...

No, you shouldn’t get your hopes up. After all, you need time to recover from today, so you shouldn’t be trying to jump into anything else quite yet, either. But then again, it’s Fred. Your longtime crush, but also your best friend’s older brother. The one guy that you’ve wanted that you always thought was unattainable. He couldn’t possibly see you as anything more, could he?

You excuse yourself from dinner quietly, whispering to Ron that you’ll talk to him later. You’re hoping to find Fred whenever he’s done getting in trouble, but also, hoping to avoid Adrian. He’s the last person you want to see right now.

You hover around the area of Dumbledore’s office, and after several minutes, you hear footsteps. You peer around the corner to see Adrian, walking away from you, thankfully, towards the hospital wing, and Fred, headed towards you.

“Hey,” he says, quietly, offering you a small smile as well as he can, considering his lip is still busted.

“Hi,” you reply, still not sure what to say. You’re really not sure how to process anything that just happened, but you’re going to at least hopefully get Fred’s thoughts on everything.

“Hopefully that asshole learned his lesson,” Fred says bitterly as the two of you walk side by side down the empty corridor, “If he ever bothers you again, you let me know, okay? I’ll take care of him for you.”

“But why?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. Fred stops too, just looking at you, as if nonverbally asking you to elaborate. “Why do you care so much?”

Fred’s eyebrows furrow slightly, but he hesitates before speaking.

“You’re Ron’s best friend. Obviously I’d stand up for you, especially against a prick like Pucey. But...” he trails off, looking over you again. You stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

He looks up to meet your eyes, and this time, angry Fred is gone, and in his place is hesitant, vulnerable Fred. Something that you don’t see often.

“I like you, Y/N. A lot,” he says, and your heart somersaults.

“I know this probably isn’t the best time to tell you,” he continues, “considering everything that just happened, but, I just... it’s always been you, and it pisses me off to see you fall for these guys who treat you like shit instead of like a princess, which is what you deserve.”

For definitely not the first time today, you can’t find the words to reply, but this time, it’s for a good reason. For a moment, you forget about Adrian, about your heartbreak and about the fight, and you cross the small gap between you and Fred, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

He tastes like the blood from his lip, but when you pull away, you smile, and he smiles back, almost in relief.

“Let’s get that lip of yours fixed up,” you say, “and we can talk more.”

“Absolutely,” Fred replies, reaching for your hand as the two of you start down the hall again. “I’m never going to let any guy hurt you again, Y/N. And I definitely won’t ever hurt you. You can trust me on that.”

And you truly believe him.

[leakyrocktarot]

What are epidermis pedestrians? First time I'm coming across that word... And your blog so I'm kinda trying to navigate here

An epidermis pedestrian is a "Ski*n W*lker" We don't say the name because it can bring them to you. In the spirit world names are super important and when an entity has your name it can have power over you, and vice versa. Epidermis walkers are beings that can slip into the skin of literally anything to stalk and hunt its prey. An epidermis walker can even take the form of a "Not Deer" Though they are two different things, they can be of the same entity. They originate from Navajo culture, and are called The Yee Naldlooshii and are often times mistaken for wendigos. In Navajo culture, epidermis walkers are derived from ’ánt’įįhnii, which in our terms would be a witch. It is said that after initiation an ’ánt’įįhnii has the ability to become a Yee Naldlooshii. Not all witches are epidermis pedestrians, but all epidermis pedestrians are witches. It is important to note that not all witches are evil, not all of them practice baneful magic, they are a part of two different worlds. "In some stories, people who have attained the highest rank are called clizyati, which means pure evil. This can be achieved by killing a close blood relative, incest, necr0phili4, or other culturally taboo and evil acts. Upon completing one or more of these acts is said to destroy their humanity and allow them to become fully initiated in the way of witchery."

An epidermis pedestrian can take the form of a coyote, wolf, fox, eagle, owl, or crow, but they have the ability to change into whatever animal they need for whatever purpose they need it for. Again I will say Do Not Say The Name Out Loud, Ever. It calls them to you as if you have a target on your back, like being marked by a hunter. I made the mistake of doing it, and there was this bird that followed me for days and it was unlike any other bird. I shit you not, it flew in circles, upside down, and even backwards. I swear to you sometimes it looked like it was hovering in one place. Take note of how animals walk and act around you. If it is a predatory animal and it clearly doesn't think of you as prey, it is most likely a epidermis pedestrian. They often take the high ground, so if you see an animal following you especially from a high place, it most likely will be an epidermis walker. Pay attention to how the body moves, unless they are at the highest level it will always reveal itself by being clumsy. The most obvious example is the countless stories about the deer who turned around, but their legs stayed behind. Sometimes it may walk in a shamble, or jutt around, or even have distorted and crooked limbs. If you see one and you look it in the eye, their eyes will glow yellow whether it is day or night. They can only be found in the desert as that is the only place where they can strive. In the rare case of names, epidermis walkers are the only being that will fear your name. If you call out your given name, it will have to wait until the resonance dissipates. They don't have names, they all consider themselves to be a part of the "Shift".

Below the cut is a clip of a person talking about the things their grandfather has told them about epidermis walkers, how to spot them, and more about them.

Skinwalkers typically live in caves where man cannot reach, or on the tops of mesas. Skinwalkers, while being able to shift, must assume their human form during rest. They are still vulnerable to human patterns of existence. So they seek out places of rest that are seemingly unattainable to humans. The Utes would use this to their advantage, and climb nearby cliffs to catch or kill skin walkers when they least expected it. NOTE: Skinwalkers when sleeping are at their MOST powerful. In the state of rest, the strength to shift circulates through their body over and over again. If they are disturbed during rest, they are at their strongest and can kill at an instant. My grandfather told a story of a particularly Nasty group of two skin walkers who killed several children in a Ute village. A group of brave warriors tracked them to a set of cliffs, where there was a giant half dome cave about 200 feet up. The bravest warriors of the Ute tribe in the region snuck up the cliff, and when they reached the half dome cave, they opened fire on the two skin walkers. The skin walkers were not to be deterred, and instantly killed 3 warriors with their bare hands. The remaining Ute warriors kept firing, and finally the skin walkers lunged toward the edge of the cliff, telling the warriors that they would come back for them another day. The skin walkers ran to the end of the cliff and jumped...but The Utes were already two steps ahead. For weeks they had been bringing in dry brush to the valley below the cave, and by the time the skinwalkers jumped, nearly 3 acres of deadfall was piled strategically throughout the valley trees to look natural. The minute the skin walkers left the cliff, the Utes below lit the pitch-covered dead fall, and when the skin walkers landed, they were quickly trapped in a giant raging bonfire. The skin walkers howled so loudly, that it was said the wind whistled like wolves in that valley for another 50 years.

Skinwalkers sloppily shed fur and you can use it to summon them. When skin walkers turn back, it's just as ugly as when they turn. Instead of cleanly shifting back into human form, skin walkers often leave behind chunks of fur, sometimes up to 6 inches long and 2 inches wide, called "bent skin". If you find "bent skin", you can lure a skinwalker by blowing on the chunk of fur into a fire. The skinwalker will instantly follow the scent to your fire, without question, instinctively. The Ute's would use this method whenever they could, but it was very rare to find "bent skin" without actively knowing the footsteps of a skinwalker.

"The White Wind". That is the expression the Utes used to describe the effects of speaking into quartz rocks to a skinwalker. Skinwalkers are greatly weakened by the voice vibrations of a quartz rock. Medicine Men would carry with them giant quartz rocks, and set them upon a cliff to send out warnings to all nearby skin walkers never to come near their camp. This could only be done when the evidence of skin walkers in the immediate area of the camp could be found. It could not be used as a blanket method to ward off would be attacker skin walkers. The Utes thought that quartz resonated with souls, and that if spoken to with the proper countenance from a Medicine Man or Warrior, that the quartz rock could speak directly to the soul of a person or animal. There was one story about a particularly aggressive skinwalker who chose to stand outside the camp in Elk Form to intimidate the tribe. An elder Medicine Man walked to a nearby rock face, put a giant quartz stone on top, and sang the name of the most recent victims to skin walkers over and over again. Within a matter of hours, the elk began violently kicking, turning from human, to elk, and back again, until it finally started taking the shape of the victims who it killed. The Medicine Man then commanded the skinwalker to turn back to its evil elk form, and jump off a cliff to its final death. The next morning the tribe woke up and found the skinwalker in human form split in half over a pointed stump.

If you can find a skinwalker trail, usually characterized by animal footprints with unusual spacings and variations (example: Deer hoof prints that all of a sudden emerge into 10 feet gaps), you can weaken a skinwalker greatly by putting fish remains in its prints. Animals from the water are highly poisonous to skin walkers in the spiritual sense because they represent water, the killer of the desert. The scent of the fish or other water animal will approach the heel of the skinwalker, and cause him to weaken the more he walks. Warriors who found skin walker trails would alert the tribe, and they would spend days fishing our a local river and then preparing the remains to be used against the skin walkers. The Utes would then follow the footprints for miles, leaving fish rot in each skinwalker indentation, and pouring a mixture of water and fish oil near any pissing sites. Sometimes if they followed the skinwalker closely enough, they would find it wandering half dead in the desert and then kill it or capture it. It is important to note that the use of fish in weakening a skinwalker can ONLY be used when following it. It has to do with the skin walkers sense of smell. They smell for miles both forward and backward, and the fish stench, in order to exact harm, must come subtly from behind, otherwise it will be detected and avoided ASAP. So in summary, one cannot catch a fish, post it at their campsite, and expect to ward off a skinwalker for good. One has to use the fish scent carefully to eventually send the skinwalker into ruin.

Skinwalker Ritual Sites. Skinwalkers have religious sites all across the southwestern desert where they congregate from time to time, (no one knows how often), but they know it happens. These religious gatherings usually take place on the tops of mesas or in secret caves only accessible by skin walkers. At these gatherings the most diabolical happenings occur, innocent captives are eaten alive for sport, children are sacrificed, humans are forced to fight to the death, and abducted women are forced to bear every depraved sex act ever conceived - all for the skinwalkers' entertainment. The Utes told a story of the operator of a Spanish Mine who stumbled upon a viewing of such a ritual. The Spaniard had come to them to trade for supplies and had told them he knew of a skinwalker religious festival coming up that he wanted to sneak in to view it from afar. The Utes pleaded with him not to go, and to head back to his homeland for his own safety and the safety of his men. The Spaniard was far too stubborn to listen to a mere "Native" and snuck into a viewing of the ritual. Weeks later, they ran into the same Spaniard. He had aged at least 30 years. His hair was lightning white, and his skin had been charred by fire. The Utes gave him some water. He tried to speak, but each time he did his whole body trembled. Upon trying to speak for a third time, sweat poured out all over his body. But it was not the kind of sweat that would soak on a warrior's back after battle. It was blood coming out of his pores, because sweat had given up. The Spaniard died seconds later, unable to communicate what ungodly things he had seen at the skinwalker ritual. He didn't have to communicate -- the Utes knew.

Skinwalker Ritual Sites - The Ute Response. 3 Generations before the Spaniard died from sheer panic and fear over the Skinwalker ritual, the Utes had their own tragic experience with it. Four women, including two of the wives of the chief had disappeared within a month. Through dreams the two wives of the chief had reached out to the medicine man to let them know that they were being held captive in a giant room underneath a mesa. The Medicine man and the chief assembled all the warriors in the tribe approached the mesa, which was over 100 miles away. When they approached the mesa they saw a sea of bones, which became more pronounced with each step. What used to be dried and withered animal ribs soon became human hips, skulls, and spines. The plants were dead for nearly half a mile in every direction. The Medicine man and the warriors came up with a plan. The warriors would distract the skin walkers, while the medicine man and his team would build a giant lightning rod on top of the mesa. The warriors and the medicine men went their separate ways and carried out the plan. When the warriors found the cave beneath the Mesa, they formed a perimeter around it and waited in the bushes until its rightful king returned. When the skin walkers came out of the brush and into the cave, they opened fire, from all sides, everywhere, nearly painting the mesa with arrows. Before their arrow fire could finish, the Medicine man at the top of the mesa, grabbed a quartz stone and directed lightning to hit his 4 story tall quartz tower. The lightning hit the tower with such a force that the Mesa cracked in half, and covered half of the tribe in rubble. It is said that the skinwalkers came out roasting alive, with smoke pouring out of their eyes, ears and mouth, covered in charred black skin. The captured native women came out soon after, unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises on them. The warriors yelled for the Medicine man to come down, that they had been victorious. The Medicine Man then yelled back: "No victory until dust...." The Medicine man proceeded to conduct 50 more strikes of lightning on the Mesa. With each strike it crumbled, until finally it was reduced to a small sand hill. The medicine man was barely able to walk, so succumbed with forcing the lightning strikes when a warrior approached him and said "Look." The Medicine Man looked and saw a beautiful white bird landing on the small sand hill that used to be the Mesa. The Medicine Man, then grabbed the bird and snapped its neck. The bird turned into a muscular human. The Medicine man said: "Let's find his sand hill." This medicine man who was named Fist of Lightning and Death, went on to destroy 4 mesas, and 3 giant caves, but in his words only "chased the wind" of the skin walkers.

[ghostimoth]

Nerves {Jean Kirschtein x Fem!Reader} Modern/Highschool AU!

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Jean's nervous to tell you about his feelings, but after a stressful day of nagging from his friends - he finally gets the courage to confess.

Playlist: Him and Hym (from banana fish)

Tags: @coltsbitch I hope you like it uwu

“You’re staring Jean-booooy!” Sasha teased, dragging an elbow into Jean’s ribs.

The brunette let out a grunt at the sudden intrusion and sent a glare towards the girl. “The fuck was that for?” He complained. Jean lightly shoved Sasha away as he rubbed at his now sore torso.

Sasha chuckled. Rolling her eyes as she put her head in her hands, she said, “you were staring at (Y/N). Again.” Across the table, Connie snickered into his hand.

Jean’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “No, I wasn’t. I just happened to be looking in her direction. That’s all.” Pushing away the lunch his mother had made him - which Sasha and Connie also made fun of - Jean leaned back in his chair.

Marco, the last and most sensible person of their friend group, cleared his throat. “Ah come on Jean,” he chastised, “they mean well. It’s just... well…” Marco trailed off for a second, a nervous hand coming up scratch at his freckled face. Jean raised an eyebrow at his longtime friend. “Well, you can be a bit obvious. And it hurts to watch sometimes.”

Much to the chagrin of Jean, Sasha and Connie were quick to join in once again.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Sasha exclaimed with a mouthful of fries. “We’re just trying to kick you into high gear and get you to finally ask (Y/N) out!”

Connie leaned forward onto the table. “Haven’t you been madly in love with her since you were like, what - 12?” He waved a lazy hand in the air.

A dark hue spread across Jean’s cheeks, which he quickly hid behind his hand. “Oh shut up ya baldy!” Jean yelled back. He groaned. “I’ve just known her since we were 12. As if I could fall in love with her at that age.”

Sasha let out a triumphant shriek. She practically climbed on top of the poor soccer player in her excitement. “You didn’t deny you love her!” She practically exclaimed to the entire cafeteria. Nearby tables went quiet and glanced their way.

“Shut up Sasha!” Jean retaliated, pushing her off of him. His blush had now reached far past his cheeks, decorating his ears in a pink hue.

Despite the anger radiating off of him, Sasha seemed unperturbed by her friend’s actions. Rather she seemed to get even happier. “Just go talk to her and ask her on a date already!” She said matter of factly before chomping on her slice of pizza.

Jean looked to Marco and Connie for help. As he expected, Connie agreed, saying something along the lines of finally getting with her and to stop acting like a lost puppy. But Marco! Instead of coming to his rescue, Marco simply nodded and agreed.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, Jean was the first to stand up and leave. In his anger and embarrassment he nearly forgot his lunchbox. He swiped it from Marco’s grasp without thanking him before stomping his way to his next class.

By the time he walked through the doorway of the chemistry class, his anger had dissipated and morphed into a mix of embarrassment and guilt at his actions.

“Stupid Sasha and Connie, trying to meddle in with my damn business. Damn Marco for not backing me up.” Jean grumbled as he sat on the stool.

A soft giggle to his left made him jump.

“Oh (Y/N)!” He said, his voice jumping an octave. He hadn’t even seen you as he ranted and raved under his breath.

“Hey Jean. It looks like you’ve had a bit of a rough day. Sasha and Connie being overbearing again?” You asked, moving a stray lock of hair from your face.

Jean gulped as your curious eyes stared up at him. He was always taller than most people his age, yet you made him feel like the smallest person in the world. You were - as cheesy as it was - different from the other girls in the school. At least to Jean. All the other girls at Paradis High, whether they were friends or strangers to Jean, had a level of unattainability. Some of them were for obvious reasons, such as Historia who practically had a bodyguard in the form of her butch girlfriend, but other reasons were much more transparent. Even if Jean did fantasize about bringing a girl on a date and being in a relationship - it always felt like some wacky dream.

But never with you. You always felt just a bit more physical, a bit more real to Jean. Maybe it was because of how comfortable you were with him or your constant curiosity that led to you getting into trouble that would have been easily avoidable (and sometimes dragging Jean down with you).

You were always just an arm’s distance away. A distance Jean didn’t dare cross, not at 12 years old and not at 17.

“Uh yeah, they were just getting on my ass about a girl. Marco wasn’t any help either, so I’m just a bit annoyed at them.” He finally responded, rubbing the back of his neck.

You blinked up at him for a moment before an expression of realization spread across your features like a wave. Excitedly, you grabbed onto his upper arm and pulled him down closer to you.

“Do you like a girl, Jean?!”

Jean thanked whatever mystical being out there that you had enough sense to whisper your conclusion to him, but then promptly cursed them out as you stared at him face to face. He could smell the mint you had after lunch fanning over his face.

Jean opened and closed his mouth quickly, unsure of how to respond, scared that if he spoke his voice would croak and falter.

Thankfully the chemistry teacher Dr. Hange walked in, earning everyone’s attention with a loud clap.

Letting go of Jean’s arm, you stood straight up in your chair and listened as Dr. Hange reviewed what today’s class would cover; but not before sending Jean a smirk.

Fidgeting with his fingers under the desk, Jean did his best to ignore your glances and overall presence, intent on willing the whole discussion about his crush out of existence. That is until you slid a small note to Jean’s side of the black desk. Scribbled in your clean handwriting was a request - no - an order.

You’re totally filling me in on this girl after school! I’m not taking no for an answer!

Jean sighed to himself, grimacing as your playful grin appeared at the edge of his vision.

“Jeeeaaan! Come on!” You whined, bouncing on his bed. “Why won’t you tell me who your crush is!”

Said boy let out a sigh as he dropped his book bag onto the floor next to his desk and all but collapsed into the gaming chair. Leaning his head back on the headrest, he answered in a taut voice. “Because I don’t want to.”

“Totally not because it’s you.” He thought.

You groaned in frustration, tossing and turning on his bed, inevitably ruining the nicely folded blankets. “Come on! I’ve known you since we were in middle school!”

Jean chuckled. “Yeah sure, if you count two kids bored out of their minds on family trips to the mountains only to never see each other until high school as knowing each other since middle school.”

Sitting up on the bed, you pouted at the brunette. “Damn. You really didn’t have to get specific about it.”

The laughter that bubbled out of Jean’s chest was uncontrollable. Doubling over in his chair, Jean finally looked at you for the first time since getting to his house. “Why shouldn’t I? When you showed up in the middle of last year and latched yourself onto me - everyone thought you were my secret girlfriend! Hell, even I was confused as to why you were practically glued to my arm.”

Jean continued to laugh, more to himself now. When his laughter finally fizzled away and his eyes were no longer clouded by tears, he sat back up in his chair - only to go rigid again.

You had pulled your legs into your chest and were staring away from Jean. The sharp glint of your eyes told Jean that he had pissed you off.

“A shit (Y/N), I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

Taking a deep breath, your body relaxed against itself.

“I know, you big idiot. It’s just… you were my first real friend. Of course I got excited when we reunited years later.” You chuckled to yourself at the memory of spotting him in the middle of homeroom. The joy and relief you felt that day was tremendous.

Standing up, Jean walked over to the bed and sat next to you before falling against his plush covers with a dulled thump. He patted the bed. A silent invitation for you to lay next to him. You took it and laid next to him, staring at the ceiling in silence.

No words were spoken between the two of you for some time. This is how it went sometimes. The two of you didn’t need to talk constantly to keep the energy comfortable and flowing. Comforting silences were a rare thing to have.

The soft breathing and heat radiating off of Jean nearly had you falling asleep. That is until he spoke up, startling you awake.

“She’s really sweet ya know.” Jean could see you turn to him with a raised eyebrow out of his peripheral. “The girl I like. She’s really sweet. A little overbearing with her physical affection, but nothing crazy. She’s… people-smart. She knows when to start and stop.” Jean could feel you shift on the bed so that your head was level with his. He continued talking without thinking of the consequences. “She’s got a few unconventional hobbies and does stupid shit all the time. Had to stitch up her pinkie finger once because she cut it while exploring an abandoned house.” Jean’s own pinkie moved towards your hand, making contact with your own pinkie finger. He traced the raised scar. “She’s super smart too and is always working to get better for herself. And… well I’ve liked her for a while but I was always scared to face the feelings she gave me whenever we hang out. I didn’t want to accept them. It was odd. I was used to never having a shot with the people I liked. But you… you just seemed to shoot right into me without me even realizing it.”

Finally, Jean had the courage to look at you. Your cheeks were darkened with a deep blush and your eyes twinkled. Jean didn’t say anything. He waited for your response with bated breath. The two of you laid there on dark covers for what felt like an eternity.

“For fucks sake (Y/N). Ya gotta respond to me.” Jean choked out in a harsh whisper. His hand was trembling from the nerves.

“I can play a 2 hour soccer game without issue, but I can’t make a simple confession without shaking? What the hell Jean.” He thought bitterly.

As though life was breathed back into you - you took a deep breath.

Quick and sudden nods.

Jean furrowed his eyebrows.

Your hand inched its way into his.

Jean pushed himself up onto his elbow and leaned over you

Your gleaming eyes flashed to his lips and back up to his eyes.

A silent exchange of words.

Leaning forward, Jean let his forehead lightly knock against yours. “Can I kiss you.”

“Please.”

Slowly, Jean let his lips ghost over yours. Just barely touching. As though Jean was scared any harsh movements would make you break. You surged into the kiss, squeezing onto his hand still interlocked with yours.

Jean internally groaned, the taste of your minty tongue invading his senses. If he didn’t stop kissing you now he was going to go crazy.

Pulling back from your lips, he stared down at you. You chuckled nervously, fingers twitching.

“What? Am I that bad of a kisser?”

Jean shook his head quickly. “No way. You’re amazing. Just… just fucking relieved you feel the same way.”

You smiled up at him. “I mean, of course. You were my first friend. Only makes sense that you were my first love too.”

Bonus:

“Jean-boy, I made some sandwiches for you and (Y/N) to e- OH!”

“Ma! It’s not what it looks like!”

“I’m so sorry! I’ll leave you two alone. Make sure to use protection!”

A pillow thudded against the freshly closed door and fell to the floor in a sad lump.

“SHUT UP MA!”

[ohhthereuare]

Loved your tags on my norribeth post! I try to be nice bc willabeth is SO popular but I don’t like that ship 😭 I love seeing people salty about it in the wild bc I choose violence

then you've come to the right place 🔪🔪🔪

oh gosh oh gosh where do I even start

I completely agree with all of your points concerning norribeth even though I will fight for sparrabeth till my dying breath but I feel like arguments concerning both of these ships have a lot of common ground and most of them are rightfully pointed against willabeth

and since I have literally no-one to talk to about this and its been brewing inside me for y e a r s we're in for an essay

(of course I harbour no hate towards orlando's performance, he did a great job and it's not his fault his character is a whiny wimp most of the time)

even if they had ended the franchise on "the curse of the black pearl" willabeth's arc would have already been on thin ice. it made sense in a span of one movie and one story- the protagonist rescues and gets the girl, the girl sees something more in the protagonist and favourable circumstances let them be together in the end. except potc is more than just one movie and even that one movie was something more than that.

elizabeth may have been raised as a dame but she was never a damsel in distress therefor what william loved from the start was a false image of her. to his credit it was probably an imagine elizabeth herself believed in for a long time because she had no chance to prove herself wrong. he thought her proper. he thought her honourable. he thought her delicate and sweet and helpless. then we've got william who's just a simple blacksmith and as cute as he may seem, he's unattainable, with rough hands that know hard labour, with sweaty face and messy hair, and most importantly, he's somehow linked to pirates that elizabeth's secretly so entranced by. i'm not gonna go into too much unnecessary detail because we know how this story goes but i w i l l point out an important conclusion- this story is not at all what it seems. because will has never been a pirate and he will never be one. he may have ended up on a ship, may have been forced to work side by side with a real pirate, he may have even used his wicked methods in the course of the entire franchise but william turner is n o t a pirate. he only mimics one. and that's what enrages me so much about the ending of "at wit's end"- will has gotten a fate that he did not want, did not deserve, did not even appreciate. to him it turned out to be another responsibility that he had to take on himself, that he would dutifully follow. all he has wanted throughout these 3 movies was to save whoever he (mostly wrongly) thought needed saving at that time and he wanted to go home. he wanted to be done with it. he wanted to settle. he's never said a thing about a treasure, about a ship, about the sea, about freedom. at first it was a girl then it was his father. it was always an honourable goal and having reached one he was ready to sail back home and happily stay there. that's why the ending of "the curse of the black pearl" already feels spoiled, leaves a bad taste in my mouth. "a pirate" elizabeth says, while lovingly looking at will. no, sweetheart. never have been, never will be. you're in for a bitter surprise.

now, elizabeth. oh lord. never have been a truly proper lady, never will be. in the face of deadly danger she cannot handle a sword (yet) but she claws and bites her way out of a fight with whatever's at hand and she makes a deal with a deadly undead captain and she's ready to stab him with a kitchen knife, she's ready to kill this man before she even knows he cannot be killed. she may need a little help but she doesn't need to sit around and wait to be rescued. throughout the course of the first movie and then the second and then the third she becomes more and more vicious and at first she wants to be free of the corset then she wants to be with whomever she wants then she wants to sail to the horizon then she wants to become the goddamned pirate king and lead a fleet of these wobbly-legged, rum-soaked pirates against the east-trading company and also a very dangerous, damned lord of the underwater underworld. nothing ever seems enough to her. she thought she wanted, loved will because she thought he represented everything that she has always secretly craved- freedom and a little danger. william was neither of those things. i guess that's the biggest hidden plottwist of this franchise- elizabeth, expected to stay proper, doesn't, and william, not expected to stay a good, does. somehow they switch the roles of the archetypes they would normally be supposed to fullfill and that change was supposed to completely alter their previous motivations and goals.

and maybe she was too set on the topic of love to let herself let him go but their relationship surely felt the strain of their sudden differences. the whole of "dead man's chest" was elizabeth testing new grounds and desperately grasping at old ones and the whole of "at wit's end" was the heavy burden of disappointing discovery. they had very little in common. they couldn't trust each other anymore. they wanted very different lives and were willing to do different things to achieve them and the only thing keeping them together was "love" but at one point it became just a word, a new name for a habit fading away. hell the whole of "dead man's chest" was elizabeth redefining the word love into lust as you have rightly pointed out in your post. would they have gotten married had it not been for the burning need to just jump each other's bones? or more accurently, to jump anybody's bones for that matter?

i feel like elizabeth ending up with norrington or jack would have made a lot of sense for her character arc, both for very different and quite opposite reasons. norrington would have been the anchor keeping her morals safe and jack would have been the wind in her sails steering her towards the wilder, more chaotic, pirate side of her nature (peas in a pod, darling). both men saw her for what she truly was- strong, fearless, unyealding. will saw her for who she was in his mind and in the end that was who she was forced to become- a housewife bound to land, destined to tend to the treasure of her not-pirate husband that got to sail to the horizon. but at least she got to get married, right? 🙂

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You II (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: secret admirer Yamato fic. said that this one would be short, but i once again have gotten carried away. Here is the ending. It should be cute. thanks for reading. 

Word count: 3200

It had been a long day at the bakery, full of kneading breads and selling cupcakes and just generally doing some busy work around the store. Life was uneventful, except for the moments she arrived at her apartment in the evenings just as the sun was setting, and she’d find a new gift lying on the ground or a note taped to her door.

 It was nice, having these little surprises either at the beginning or ending of her day. In fact, she was growing all too used to the confidence boost the sweet love letters gave her. 

Apparently, she was beautiful. She was strong and kind and generous and funny, and so many other things all stated and elaborated on in these notes. She was high off those letters. They made her feel just a bit better about herself. Even after long days of work where her hair was falling out its tie and her skin dusted with flour and chocolate frosting smeared across her dirty apron, she still felt on top of the world.

Every day she grew more and more curious as to who was leaving those notes lying around. It really could be anyone, even someone she barely knew. In that case, she had no idea what she would do. Yes, the person in question seemed nice, but she didn’t exactly feel comfortable dating someone she didn’t know or like. 

And if it was someone she knew, what would she do then? Could they stay friends after all this mess? She would try, but would it be too awkward for them to be around her after spilling their feelings over and over again?

Just thinking about the outcomes of this secret admirer situation was overwhelming and she avoided the thought. She would just enjoy the acts of admiration from the comfort of her own home.

It had actually been three days since the last gift was left outside her door and she was beginning to grow excited. If he was gone for another few days, surely she could go around and figure out who was on a mission for the entire week. The turning point was almost here, she thought. Only a few more days until she could find out. It was both scary and exhilarating to think about.

As she rounded the corner to her apartment, walking up the metal stairs, she expected nothing at her door once again. That only made sense. Definitely not a person standing there, no way.

She certainly did not expect to see Kakashi standing at her doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers. Just as quick as she had seen, she ducked back behind the wall, hand pressed to her mouth to shush her gasp.

What the fuck…

That was definitely him, she confirmed in her mind. The same white hair, mask, jounin vest, everything. Her heart raced and she felt panic creeping up her neck. How could this be? Kakashi was her friend, and only her friend. She thought that had been established a long time ago. There was nothing intimate going on between them, and she never anticipated there would be. 

She waited until he was gone before she walked to her apartment and picked up the flowers and note. She swore that this wasn’t Kakashi’s handwriting, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was and she was just remembering wrong. Why was she even questioning herself though? Right in front of her eyes, she saw Kakashi leaving flowers at her doorstep. The answer was clear as day.

Kakashi was her secret admirer.

The more she thought about it, it made a little sense. He always accepted her free baked goods, but she always just assumed he didn’t feel like buying his own bread. And he walked her home from the store on more than one occasion. He was nice to her every time they hung out. All of those things she always just assumed were normal friendly things to Kakashi, but she found herself questioning his every move now. 

Oh man. Oh shit. How would she even go about confronting him? He was such a cool and collected guy, she would feel awkward rejecting him. Would he be angry? Another thought crossed her mind for a moment. Maybe she shouldn’t reject him. He was a very smart and kind man, and he always knew what to say even in the worst of moments. He was reliable and strong and forgiving.

Maybe she should just go for it. 

Yeah, she cared for Yamato a lot, but why keep trying for someone completely unattainable when another guy she got along with was ready to give her the entire world? From the way he spoke in his letters, he liked her for a long time and intended to make her his long term girlfriend. It broke her heart that the man she spent years longing after didn’t feel the same way, so much time wasted. It really sucked.

She had been lonely for so long that the thought was more than tempting. 

It was all way too much to think about.

She entered her apartment that night with a lot to ponder before she fell asleep, tossing and turning with the knowledge that Kakashi was in love with her. How could she sleep knowing that? She would have to talk to someone else first before deciding what to do about everything. She would wait for Yamato to come back and help her out. He’d know what to do. 

_______

It had been days since she found out about Kakashi and this entire mess. Yamato was due to be back today, and she was counting the minutes. She already asked off work for the rest of the day so she could get all her business sorted out. There was just too much to do and she couldn’t wait until night time to get it all done. 

Awkwardly enough, on her way to see Yamato, she ran right into Kakashi outside the grocery store. He was carrying quite a big bag of food items, and she nearly knocked them all right out of his arms. She yelped, jumping back about two feet to keep her distance. Being so close to him felt nerve-wracking. 

“Y/N, what’s up?” he asked, his eyes scanning her up and down. “You look nervous."

“Me, nervous? Psssshh, of course not. Why would I be nervous?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

She stood there for a silent moment, her eyes drawn right on his face. He didn’t look different. He looked like his normal, cool self, definitely not like a man in love with her. He was damn good at hiding how he felt. She rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes averted now to the wall beside her. “So, uh, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing much, Just got back from a mission and I’m going to be home for a few days so decided to get some groceries.”

“Oh, really? How long were you on that mission?”

“It was only 2 days.”

“I see…”

Why was she asking? She saw him. There was no way he was on a mission that night. He was right there. Maybe all this questioning was a sign that she wished this was all some sort of mistake, that it wasn’t Kakashi at her doorstep, or maybe they were pranking her. A cruel and unlikely prank, but still, it was a possibility.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned and he leaned in just a bit closer to get a look at her face. The woman found herself getting flustered. Quickly, she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him away. 

“I’m fine. Just stay over there.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely not fine but whatever you say.”

She bit her lip, not knowing how to diffuse the situation. He was right, as usual. Things were definitely not okay, she just wasn’t ready to face the reality that he loved her, not here in front of the grocery store in the broad daylight. That was meant to be private. She couldn’t reject him like that, it would be humiliating.

“It’s nothing, Kakashi. I’m just...getting sick is all, so you shouldn’t get so close.”

But he persisted. “Sick with what?”

“I don’t know, the flu?”

“Hmm,” he nodded, but his eyes were all knowing and she found herself wanting to slither away on the ground and hide in an alley for a while. “You’re on your way to see Tenzo, right?” How? How could he have known that? She swore, this man was getting on her last nerve with his smartass attitude.

“Yes. How could you tell?”

He smirked through his mask, shifting the weight of his grocery bag to his left side. “Well, he just got home today, and the only reason you’d be walking that fast is so you could see him,” he replied, and she nodded grumpily, her arms moving to cross over her chest.  “I’ll let you go. He should be leaving the Hokage Tower soon, I just saw him heading in that direction.”

She thanked him before continuing on her path to go find Yamato. She was actually glad to be done talking to Kakashi. It felt way too weird talking to him knowing all the things he was secretly thinking about her. Plus, he was getting annoying with all the questions. She just wanted to find her friend and talk through her options.

It saddened her, but Yamato was never going to like her back and maybe Kakashi was the best choice for her. In this town, if you got to 25 without getting married you were pretty weird, especially if you weren’t a shinobi. Villagers get married off so quickly, it’s just part of the small town nature of it all. Parents want grandchildren, and it’s easier to live off a two person income. People got married young. 

Societal pressure would definitely be taken off her back, that’s for sure. It just wasn’t exactly as she had planned. One sided love.

Yamato was indeed walking home from the Hokage Tower when she spotted him after having wallowed in her own thoughts for the entire walk over.

“Yamato!” she called, running up to him. He stopped in his tracks, feeling himself growing warm again. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her, granted that was only a week ago. He wanted to give her a hug, having missed her for the last 7 days and all, but he refrained. He had no idea how she would react. Knowing her kind nature, she would hug him back, but then what would she think? He liked her? It was too embarrassing.

He looked down at the young woman and smiled. “Y/N, did you need something?”

“Yes, it’s really important. Do you think we can sit down somewhere more private?”

Oh God. Whatever she wanted to talk about, it couldn’;t be anything good. She wasn’t smiling, and normally she would have work right now. She wasn’t going to take off work for nothing. He nodded, and she silently dragged him over to the tea shop, her eyes flickering around to make sure Kakashi hadn’t trailed behind her. She took a seat at one of the tables and motioned for him to sit across from her.

He did as she asked, sitting cross legged on the floor, his hands secretly being wrung over and over again under the table. “So what did you need to talk about?”

“I know who my secret admirer is.”

Here it goes…

“Kakashi!”

“Wait, what?” His eyes shot open, and he froze. He was not expecting that, not at all. How could he? Yamato was Y/N’s secret admirer, it didn’t make sense. He made sure Kakashi knew to leave the flowers on her doorstep in secret, there was no way he would mess up something so simple. He was an S-rank ninja for a reason. 

She nodded, her eyes almost as wide as his. “Yeah, I know. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him.”

“What did you see?”

“When I was coming home from work, I saw him outside my door with a bunch of roses and a note. It was in the same handwriting as all the other love notes, so I know it’s the same guy. I-I just can’t believe it’s Kakashi.”

Yamato knew he should have confessed right then instead of asking, but he couldn’t keep himself from knowing the truth. “Well, how do you feel about him? Are you going to accept?”

She sighed, her eyes trailing down to the side. “That’s the hard part. His words, in those letters, they made me feel so special and loved. If Kakashi feels that way about me, surely he can make me happy for a long time,” she told him softly, and he could feel his heart tearing in half with every second that passed. He put in all this effort, and for what? For his friend to steal the girl right from him. He felt a terrible pain in his stomach, and he had to keep the discomfort from reaching his face.

“So, you’re attracted to him?” His worst fear. He knew the ladies liked Kakashi. He was suave and handsome. It would make sense if Y/N liked him. Who didn’t like Kakashi? 

His own self-esteem was diminishing. Out of all the outcomes he had thought up in his head on how this confession would go, he never expected it to end up this way. 

She shook her head. Carefully, she explained, “It’s just that I’ve loved someone else for a long time, and I’m not ready to give up on them. I know I should, but I just can’t.”

It was time to tell her. His hopes were low, but her confession left him feeling like there was a chance. He wasn’t planning on telling her any time soon, not until he was positive she liked him back, or even wait for her to figure it out herself so she could come to him. He really wasn’t one for expressing his feelings like this. He was Anbu, that wasn’t their way of life. 

He was scared. Scared of the rejection and then what would follow. The fallout and the avoidance. The dissolving of their entire friendship. Yamato was afraid of what this one little woman thought of him, and it took everything in him to  muster up his next words.

“Y/N, your secret admirer is not Kakashi, it’s me. It's been me the whole time.”

Her lips quickly fell into a frown, and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. She tilted her head to the side and asked, her brows furrowed deeply, “How could that be? I saw Kakashi with my own eyes.”

“It’s because I asked him to fake it for me until I got back from my mission,” he groaned, “You said you were going to wait until the next time there was a big break in the gifts coming and then figure out what shinobi it was; well, I was just on a week long mission and I didn’t want you figuring it out so soon. I gave Kakashi some flowers and a note and asked him to leave it there sometime in the middle of my mission, to throw you off my scent.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I guess I should have anticipated Kakashi being late and you finding out, but I hadn’t.”

“Yamato-” Y/N felt relief bubble up in her chest. If Yamato was really her secret admirer, then she had nothing to worry about. It seemed things had worked out too perfectly in her favor. She loved him, wanted nothing more than for him to reciprocate her feelings. And he had. He had spent countless hours planning little surprises for her in the hopes that it would make her happy.

Her heart felt over the moon with happiness. No one had ever went out of their way for her, not like this. But Yamato was different.

“Y/N, I care about you. I care about you a lot, as you can tell from all the letters I wrote for you.” He paused, his eyes rolling to stare up at the ceiling, too nervous to meet her own which were filled with shock. “I know we live completely different lives, and I know you’d rather be with that other guy, but that night you got drunk and you told me you wanted a man to sweep you off your feet and that you were lonely, I thought I’d try.”

“I got drunk and told you I was desperate for a man? When...When did this happen?!” Admittedly, she felt a shot to the gut at that one. How embarrassing. Perhaps, that wasn’t the first thing she could have got from his confession, but she needed to know.

“I don’t know. A month ago?”

“Damn, I’m so embarrassed.”

He groaned once again, covering his eyes with his hand and mumbling, “Yeah, me too, Y/N.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” she asked, noticing his red face and neck. “Yamato, I want to be with you. You are the other guy.” 

“You really don’t have to lie to save my feelings.”

“I’m not lying. Admittedly, when the first gift you left was a bonsai, I immediately thought it could be you because 'tree', but I couldn’t be sure so I waited. I wanted it to be you the entire time, but I just couldn’t see someone as strong as you falling for a simple baker. I thought you’d be into other shinobi. I mean, they are more interesting than little old me.”

He reached over the table to grab her hands, and immediately he cringed. All this drama was making his hands sweat, and he didn’t want her to think of him as the sweaty hands guy. He scolded himself immediately after having the thought. She’s not gonna care, don’t be so nervous. Tell her how you feel. 

“Stop. Y/N, all I care about is you. You are the most beautiful, smart, kind, and interesting woman I’ve ever met. You’re amazing. You work so hard at the bakery. You aren’t simple at all.”

“Yama...”

“Please, just be with me. It took me a lot of courage to tell you how I feel, just say yes and accept that I love you for you.”

“O-okay. I’m so happy. I just can’t believe this is happening.”

A smile grew on his lips, and she let a goofy one take over her own expression. He never looked this happy, and she realized it was all because of her. Her heart  jumped in her chest, and she squeezed his hands, feeling herself growing warm with happiness. His sweet words filled her ears and she laughed. “I promise I will treat you like a princess. I will not let you down.”

“Okay. I promise to treat you like my knight in shining armor.” His heart fluttered again. She was the one for him. He was sure of it. His cold exterior had grown soft and warm because of her, and he loved it. He loved her.

“Deal.”

They ordered their tea and sat their just relishing in the fact that for once, everything worked out for the awkward, terribly lightweight baker and her anxious, ungracefully stupid shinobi that she was hoping for all along.

[wreckofawriter]

Attention

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Swearing, sexual jokes

Request: @souhmhey Hello! I really like your blaise au and was wondering if you could do a hogwarts ver of 97 with bill weasley/cedric diggory since your requests is open. The reader is a slytherin btw. Thank you and take care!

#97: You are famous and we keep bumping into eachother so the media thinks we're dating

A/n: sorry for inactivity, I have no concept of time. This is a tiny bit off the prompt but oh well. (There is so much dialogue in this fic, I'm sorry.)

You hated attention. You had hated it since the second you had been birthed into the world. The world which robbed you of your privacy. The world which had dug its grimy hands into your life and tugged and pulled until it looked pretty enough to be on display. A world which everyone claimed to wish for, to envy. 

It made you sick. 

You had no right to complain. You knew that you were privileged, your parents had more money than they could spend even if they tried, you had grown up in a mansion which simply could not be called a house. You had the tutors, the vacations, the clothes. You had it all, well all except privacy. 

Your birth was on the front page of a dozen magazines, your face tacked onto newspapers before you could even read. You were so used to the flash of lights that you stopped registering them as strange. 

When you left for some faraway school in the hills of Scottland you had assumed that all of that would go away. That you wouldn’t have to fake smiles anymore or refrain from making the smallest mistake for fear of ruining your parent’s reputation. 

Your father’s status as a quidditch player kept you form that unattainable dream. Whenever he spoke of the sport he told it like some fantasy, something he had done so he could soar into the sky not bring it down onto his daughter. 

You snapped your eyes shut the bright flash of light only worsening your headache. As the faint burn you were all too used to faded you gathered the image of the young boy in front of you.  His mouth was dropped displaying two rows of crooked teeth, his brown eyes wide with amazement. 

Your jaw tightened, “Do you need something?” the tone you used was clearly threatening, hoping to break him from the trance you had unintentionally put him under. The conformity of the boy’s features lead you to believe he was either deaf or stupid. 

“Well?!” You snapped and it seemed to do the trick. 

He blinked a few times, his open mouth giving way for a dopey grin, “You’re y/n y/l/n.” 

You scoffed considering shoving the large camera he was holding down his throat, “I don’t know who you are talking about.” 

“But-”

“Move before I move you myself.” You snarled and before the kid could answer you shoved him aside and continued for your class which you were now surly to be late for. Vector wouldn’t be happy. 

You entered the room already spewing apologies you should have to give. 

The teacher cut you off with a pointed look and you snapped your mouth shut. There were a couple snickers from the class and your head hammered on the front of your skull. 

“You have been late almost every day this week Ms. y/l/n. Is this going to continue all year or should I cut you from my class now?” Her glare was stiff. 

You tried to swallow your mouth suddenly feeling too dry, “I’m very sorry professor it’s just I have to come all the way from potions, and getting through the halls can be difficult.”

Her eyebrows raised, “I don’t see any of my other students struggling to get here on time.” 

“Well, I-” 

“Or do you simply believe the rules of this school don’t apply to you?”  She sneered and giggles erupted around you.

Your cheeks burned and you hung your head, “That’s not what I was saying professor.” you mumbled know your words fell onto emptiness. 

“Ten points from Slytherin. Go take a seat next to Diggory.” 

You let your mouth fall shut nodding obediently as your blood boiled beneath your skin. Eyes followed you to your seat and didn’t leave until the lesson began. Your cheeks hurt, you pushed your hands upon them attempting to cool the burn of embarrassment. You didn’t even spare a glance to the boy seated next o you, his presence barely registering as you tried to convince the earth to swallow you whole. 

You really hated attention. 

Cedric Diggory didn’t quite understand why so many looked his way as he passed in the halls. He was good at making friends, his words always seemed to flow so seamlessly from his mouth, he never stumbled over syllables or tripped on his tongue. He was good with people, they liked him, he never gave them a reason to do otherwise. 

Students envied him, he knew that. He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that girls and boys found him attractive, he wasn’t stupid. People often treated him like he was anyway, as if his popularity had drained his common sense. It was aggravating to try and prove that his worth went past his reputation again and again. 

He always paid mind to you. He was aware of your fame, well your parent’s fame. His eyes like may others had frequently wandered towards you, he had a feeling you hated when they did. Your own were always narrowed into a glare as you did everything in your power to avoid the popularity you had been gifted. 

As you sat beside him, your head buried in your hands, teacher continuing with a lesson he should be listening to he felt sorry for you. Sorry that you were so often painted as a self-entitled brat, sorry for the prying eyes and the whispers behind hands. 

“I could walk you from potions if you wanted.” The words had spilled from his mouth like an overflowing sink.

Your head snapped towards him, eyes hard as steel as you bored into him. “What?” 

Cedric suddenly felt like a fool, something that didn’t happen all that often. He stuttered for a sentence, “I, uhh..” What had he just said to you? It was like his thoughts had been replaced with cotton.”I have the same potions as you, and um you said that you were having a hard time getting through the halls. I could walk with you.” 

“Whatever.” you ignored the part of you that thought it might be a half-decent idea and scoffed, “You would only draw more attention.” 

The Hufflepuff chuckled, “I suppose you’re not wrong.” 

You didn’t answer, eyes now zoned to the front of the room. He let the conversation drop. 

If there was one thing that you hated more than attention it was exercise. You disliked exhausting yourself, the grime, and sweat making you feel incredibly dirty as you jogged the edge of the grounds. Your breaths were labored and you felt awkward as your thighs bummed together. Despite all of the discomfort, your head felt clear. Thoughts weren’t plagued but crisp as you listened to the chirp of birds and your own pants. Finally, you gave out, your legs groaning as you halted bending over. Lacing your hands on your knees, you tried to calm your racing heart. 

“Oh, hey y/n!” 

And your peace was ruined. 

You stood up, stuffing your hands in your pockets and trying not to look as fatigued as you felt. 

Cedric looked so good it hurt. The sweat on his brow giving him the polished look of a deity. His hair was untamed yet adorable, cheeks stained apple red from the exertion. The sun which was peeking above the horizon framed him, making the boys edge hazy and warm. He smiled down at you, his breaths steady as ever. 

You cussed at him not even bothering to lower your voice. You watched his face falter with confusion. “Fuck you.” You repeated, “How do you look so good after running?” 

His grin jumped back, “I just stared, I’m only two miles in.”

You were tempted to slap him, “Only.” you cursed him again for good measure.

“Are you heading back towards the school? I could go with you.” 

You considered his offer for a brief moment, “Whatever you monster.” 

Apparently he took that as a yes because the second you began to jog again he was beside you his pace obviously slowed to fit yours. 

“I was actually happy to run into you.” He hummed.

You frowned, “Why?” it was more of a pant than a question.

He shrugged, “You seem nice.”

There were a lot of things you ‘seemed’ nice was not one of them. The side glance you gave him was question enough and you heard him chuckle a bit.

“I know you think you’re all scary and everything but you’re not that bad.” 

You scowled, “You don’t. Know. Me.” heavy breaths broke what was supposed to be an intimidating sentence. 

He nodded, “I think I’d like to.” 

You didn’t respond and instead tried to focus back into your safe world of exhaustion and exhilaration. You managed to reach the front of the school and practically collapsed.

“Are you okay?” Cedric asked his hand landing lightly on your shoulder. 

Shoving it off you nodded, “I’m going to get water before I pass out.” you heaved, “Feel free to continue your workout, Diggory.”

“Alright, I’ll see you-” the door shut in his face, “-later.”

Your exhaustion kept you from ripping off the heads a group of first-years who wanted your father’s autograph on your way to class. It faded as you made your way through transfiguration and potions. When dismissed you scrambled from the classroom at a quick pace, the last thing you wanted was to be late to Arithmancy again. Being publicly ridiculed once this week was plenty for you. 

You didn’t stop as your name was called behind you, shouldering through a group of students who shot you glares. You heard it again the same voice, closer now and you picked up the pace. 

Your shoulder was grabbed and you spun around with such force your bag fell from your shoulder. Quills and ink crashed to the ground and you swore loudly dropping to your knees to pick up the scattered supplies.

Cedric descended beside you helping gather your things. You snatched them from his hands before he offered and continuted down the hall without even a glance in his direction. His long strides brought him to your side. 

“You don’t have to worry about being late you know.” He offered you stayed unresponsive. “You’ve still got 6 minutes till class.”

You let out a bothered sigh, “Well if I’m stopped then those minutes go fast.” 

Cedric frowned, “Stopped?”

“Yep. It’s always like this at the beginning of the year. The first-years slowly find out who my parents are and want autographs or pictures as if it’s somehow my responsibility to serve them.” Your voice slowly filled with annoyance like a balloon expanding with air, “It’s irritating.”

The boy beside you furrowed his brows, “I can imagine.”

As if on queue a young girl trotted up to you stopping you in your tracks.

“You’re y/n y/l/n right?” Before you could answer she continued, “I was wondering if I could have an autograph from your mother, I saw her in a movie when I was six and I-”

“I’m really sorry but we have to get to class,” Cedric spoke, cutting off the bob child. 

Her eyes widened a bit, “Oh sorry, um bye then.” 

You gave a half-hearted wave before glancing at the boy beside you, “Thanks.”

He grinned, “It’s no problem.” 

Neither of you noticed the eyes which followed you down the hall. 

The Weasley twins had a special talent when it came to being bothersome. And they were sure to use it to their full potential, making a point to leave no one out of their troubles. You included. You didn’t know them all too well but after their offer to buy autographs from you and them sell them for a profit they had always stuck in your head. 

“Ah, but if it isn’t my favorite celebrity.” Fred grinned his arm draping around your shoulder before being quickly shoved off. 

“Well if it isn’t my least favorite red-head.” You respond attempting to return to the open textbook in front of you. 

“It’s only natural that you like me more than him.” George grinned sitting beside you.

“Nah, you’re tied for last.” You mumbled scribbling down notes on a messy roll of parchment. 

The younger twin frowned, “Are you sure I’m not beating him?” 

You looked up at him amusement etched into your features, “Positive.”

Fred popped some of the jelly slugs sitting beside you into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously loud. “So you and Diggory huh?”

You stiffened, glancing up at him. 

“I didn’t think he was your type.” George grinned catching one of the candies in his mouth as his twin tossed it over your head. 

You scrunched your nose, “What?” 

“Oh come on y/l/n, don’t be coy.” 

“No reason to be shy, we all know you and the Hufflepuff prince are boning.” the younger giggled. 

Your mouth went dry, “What did you just say?” 

Fred hummed, “Wow you’re better at acting than I thought, I guess you take after your mother.”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.” You sputtered.

“Wait really?” 

You nodded.

“So you and Cedric aren’t dating?” 

You scoffed, “God no, where in hell did you get that idea?”

The reflections shot glances at each other. 

“The whole school thinks you are,” George stated plainly.

You slammed your textbook shut in a vicious snap, eyes from around the library drawing towards you. “That fucker.” You hissed and in a second you were on your feet.

You didn’t have to look very long to find the brunette. He was only a few corridors form the library a small group of people huddled with him. 

“Diggory!” Your voice cut the pleasant atmosphere in two.

“Oh hey y/n, I was just looking fo-” Before his sentence could be finished you had snatched him by the tie and began dragging him behind you. 

A series of whistles and calls followed you around the corner where you slammed open a door and shoved him into a small closet. 

“Y/n whats are you doing?” He asked loosening his tie which you had unintentionally sinched around his neck. 

Your hands met his shoulders pushing him back as hard as you could manage. Cedric stumbled, his back hitting the door with a thunk.

“You asshole!” You spat leaning over him, “How dare you?”

Cedric was bewildered, the anger clear on your face in the dull lighting. Your breaths were heavy, the sharp scent of mint hitting him, “I’m sorry what?”

You sneered, “Don’t you dare lie to me Diggory. I know what you did.” You had grabbed his tie again, forcing him to lower his head to meet your eyes. 

“What did I do?” He asked, his cheeks feeling unbearably hot from the close proximity. 

You scoffed, “I don’t know, how about telling the entire school we’re fucking dating?” 

Cedric frowned, “I didn’t tell anyone we were dating.” 

Now it was your turn to look baffled, “Then who did?” 

Before your question could be answered you were falling forward, the door opening the two of you tumbling out into the sudden overwhelming brightness. You screwed your eyes shut in response, your ears catching the sound of laughter and whistles. You were brought your senses abruptly, the crowd gathered around you giggling behind their hands. 

“Damn Cedric, I thought you were classier than a quickie in a closet.” Someone snickered.

You lept off the boy you had been straddling moments before your cheeks burning from embarrassment. Cedric sat up, his own face tinged red as he glared at the Hufflepuff which had spoken. 

You shoved your way through the crowd wishing the earth would open up and let you fall into its core. Or at least those gathered around you. 

“Wait y/n!” 

You didn’t turn instead holding your middle finger in the air, making sure the entirety of the group could see it before you disappeared from sight. By the time Cedric was able to push his way through the crowd to where you had turned you were gone. He cussed letting his head fall into his hands. 

Cedric didn’t see you the entirety of the weekend. You weren’t in the hall for meals or out in the cooling September air where many students were finding refuge. Your absence was annoying, the thoughts of your breath fanning over the bridge of his nose, chest pressed into his only worsening the harbored feelings he had buried. Rumors of your relationship continuted to circulate, the scene caused a few days before morphing into lewd stories which made his cheeks bloom with roses. He felt partially responsible for the trouble caused for you, his friends were some of the most active in the gossip. 

Cedric knew it was only a matter of time before you would be forced to converse with him. You would never skip a class.

You appeared in potions Monday and managed to convince Snape to let you leave five minutes earlier than the rest of the class. There was no escaping assigned seats in Arithmancy. Or so Cedric thought. You had used your extra time to swap seats with another student now all he could do was bore holes into the back of your styled hair from four seats back. You didn’t even give him a chance during meals, eating quickly or simply never appearing, a girl you were with frequently taking a plate with her as she left instead. 

It was aggravating. He knew that both of you barley qualified as acquaintances but having the small amount of progress he had made in your relationship ripped from him less than a week in was cruel. 

Cedric was more persistent than you intended him to be. You didn’t quite understand why, you hardly knew each other. Yet he tried to corner you in hallways and stop you in classes. You supposed he probably felt guilty. You almost felt bad for avoiding him. 

When he wasn’t present in potions you assumed him sick or skipping. So you didn’t find the need to leave early or rush from the room. You should have known it was a trick. The second you left the room you were trapped, Cedric stood directly in front of you his gaze almost daring you to run. 

You sighed rolling your eyes, “Ok fine. You got me.”

“Can we talk?” He asked his hands stuffed into his robe pockets.

“Aren’t we all ready?” You challenged.

He shook his head softly, “Please?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” You huffed. 

“It will take thirty seconds.” 

Your eyes narrowed, you knew it would take longer but your curiosity was killing you, what could he possibly have to say? Your money was on some useless apology.

“Fine.” 

You were lead deeper into the dungeons beginning to suspect he was going to murder you where your screams couldn’t be heard until he came to a stop in some far away corridor. 

You crossed your arms tapping your foot impatiently, “Well?”

Cedric felt that unfamiliar twist in his stomach as he looked down at you, his hand scratching at the back of his neck, “Well I wanted to say sorry.” 

You sneered at this, “Are you serious? If this what you dragged me here for then you can just tell your friends that they are dumbasses with no life of their own so they have to stick their nose in other peoples to stay entertained and leave.” 

The Hufflepuff was taken aback, “Oh no that’s not it, umm, you, I mean I have-”

“Spit it out Diggory,” you demanded. 

He nodded, “Right, uh I like you y/n.”

Your eyes shot wide.

“And I was just wondering if you would let me take you out.” He finished feeling better now that the words had been spoken. The moment was ruined quickly. 

“No.” Your answer was plain.

“Oh.” Cedric wasn’t sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

You sighed, the boy’s face now deflated like a sad puppy. The odd feeling of guilt settled in your stomach, “It’s not because of you.” You assured him, “I mean your talented and hot and nice and everything, it’s just I don’t want to deal with all the shit.” 

His cheeks flushed at the complaint but his lips twitched into a frown, “What shit?”

“Ya know.” You spoke gesturing around you, “Your friends and the rumors and everything. I’ve already got enough on my plate, I don’t need anymore.”

Cedric nodded, understanding, “Then give me a chance.” 

You hummed a question.

“The astronomy tower tomorrow night, meet me there after curfew and let me prove I’m worth it,” he explained.

You blinked owlishly at him, head tilted slightly to the side, “Seriously?” 

“Yeah. One date, no commitment, if you don’t like it can go back to ignoring me and no one will know.” 

His offer was tempting. The way his eyes glimmered with hope only making it more enticing. So you gave in, “Alright.” 

A smile stretched his lips, “Really?” 

You shrugged, “Why not?” 

“You won’t regret it.” 

Part of you already knew that. 

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