#I got sunburned after wards but you know what | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wordstro · 2 years

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[1] game of thrones-inspired au + "i advise you do not break this one, hongjoong."

a/n: 11k words, been entirely too invested in house of the dragon, so here is that game of thrones/house of the dragon au. y/n is gender neutral however they face several moments of setting-specific misogyny, warnings for fantasy-typical violence, some very shitty situations, and hongjoong being toxic. hongjoong x y/n primarily, with hints of other pairings. their regular last names are replacing the GoT house names, so you don't need prior knowledge of GoT to get this. the names of the places are the same, but they are just cities/places. in case anyone does want to know, though, here are the houses they're based on:

hongjoong (kim): targaryen y/n, wooyoung, yunho (jeong): martells yeosang (kang): lannister jongho, san (choi) : baratheon mingi (song): tyrells seonghwa (park): stark

they say that the kims are closer to god than they are to men. they tame dragons as if they are merely horses, and ride their beasts into battle with simple commands spoken in an ancient language. some say the kims themselves are dragons. both are fire made flesh, after all.

however, fire was never meant to be tamed. it is meant to burn.

you were warned of this, long before you ever entered the king's red keep as a ward. your mother sat you down the night before you'd boarded the ship from port, and she brushed her long fingers through your hair as she studied your face as if she were committing you to memory. you thought it dramatic at the time, but later you'd lament that you hadn't taken the time to commit her to your memory as well.

as she brushed her fingers through your hair, nails soothing against your scalp, she said, "i will send for you as soon as this arrangement ends. i will find a way to have your brothers visit often. until then, you must write us often. you will be alone, my child, so i wish for you to keep your wits about you." she'd sighed, "keep yourself warm. king's landing can get very cold." your mother sniffled, "there is nothing kind about the north."

"i am not going that far north, mother. king's landing does not get that cold."

your mother only shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

your father was the one to hold your hand, his other hand resting over your mother's, as he said, voice hushed, "your mother is only reminding you to be careful around the kims. they have dragons. they are dangerous creatures."

"i know that," you'd sighed, "but wooyoung wanted me to send him letters about the dragons."

you did not admit that you were excited to catch a glimpse of them yourself, sighing once more as you said, "mother wants me to stay warm, does she not? the dragons have fire."

your mother made a noise of indignation, and your father shook his head, his fingers curling tighter around your mother's hand. still, a small, fond smile settled on his lips, despite the sternness in his tone, "the sun is warm, my child. fire is worse. it burns."

at the time, you'd wanted to point out that the sun burns, too. there were plenty of days where you'd gone exploring sunspear with your brothers on too-hot days, the southern sun beating down over you, and you'd seen plenty of people reddened from sunburn.

however, you'd only nodded, because your father was already being whisked away by one of his advisors to finalize travel plans, and wooyoung had already taken your attention from your father as he locked his arm around your neck and yanked you in a way that had you shouting at him and your mother berating him. in a bout of uncharacteristic normalcy, however, yunho merely pulled you into an embrace as soon as wooyoung let you go, patting your messy hair back into place.

at the time, you hadn't known the circumstances surrounding the king's sudden call for you to reside as his ward at the time, or what being a ward truly meant for you, your house, and your family. you should have guessed with the way yunho was acting - as your father's heir and the only one of your siblings privy to important matters even at your young age - but you truly thought you'd return to sunspear in time for your next name-day.

wooyoung tugged on your sleeve, and reminded you once more to visit the dragonpit. you'd rolled your eyes, "is that all you care about?"

"do not act as if you're not curious either," wooyoung said with a grin.

you'd rolled your eyes, even as wooyoung drew you into a kinder hug - anything that did not involve a headlock was kind of wooyoung, really. yunho gifted you a new cloak, thicker than anything you'd ever need in sunspear.

"you and mother are both behaving as if i am headed to winterfell. or the wall," you muttered.

"shall i take it back then?" yunho asked.

"no," you'd snatched the cloak from his fingers, frowning at him, and yunho laughed.

as you boarded your father's ship and waved farewell to your mother and your brothers until they were small specks on the shore, you'd never have guessed that this would be the last time you'd see sunspear, with its speared towers and lovely bazaars and hidden passages and narrow alleys adorned with colorful laundry and shadowed courts. you nor your father could have ever anticipated that you would never set foot south of the mountains again.

as the docks at king's landing drew closer, your father kneeled before you, clasping his hands over yours as he lowered himself to your level. the crew averted their gazes; though you are his child, your father is still the prince of dorne, and no prince is to be seen on their knees for anyone.

"please be careful, y/n, and most importantly," he sighed, brushing your hair from your face, "i am sorry."

you didn't understand his words until much later.

~.~.~.~.~

you were only four-and-ten when you first set foot into king's landing. it's a dreary city, made drearier by the damp afternoon weather, and you'd already started to miss home. you hadn't known at the time the circumstances surrounding why the king of the seven kings requested to house you as his ward in his home, the red keep, deep in the center of king's landing. one of the women in charge of your studies during your stay - septa something-or-other - gushed of how lucky you were for the opportunity to strengthen ties between your kingdom of dorne and the rest of westeros.

the very first evening, the moment the septa left you to rest in your new chambers after giving you a small tour of the red keep, you'd sprung to your feet with the intention of visiting the dragonpit. you were not slated to meet the king until lunch the next day - "so that you may be well rested before joining the court, of course," the septa said - and it was late enough that the halls would be empty of most.

so you'd plucked a small candle from your desk. your chambers were smaller than the one you had in sunspear. the bed was lodged next to a tall window lined with golden grates, curtains drawn over the window. the septa mentioned that you would not be able to open the window. you had a small desk with stationary and seals neatly placed, and the floors were covered with red rugs. it wasn't the worst room, but it was certainly not the kind of accomodations you were used to. it was...bland. a room fit for a mere guest, and not the child of the prince of dorne. if you'd taken the time to understand the connotations of such a small action, maybe you would have understood the circumstances of your wardship much earlier.

you stood at the door for a long while, just to make sure the septa would not return, before you'd stepped out donned in an inconspicuous black cloak you'd packed. the halls were empty, and you'd prayed you wouldn't make a wrong turn and lose your way as you tried to remember your way back to the dragonpit the septa had shown you. the tour was not extensive, and the septa merely waved her hands in the general direction of the dragonpit before moving forward.

you'd descended down stairs lit by flickering lanterns. the hairs at the back of your neck stood on end as you scurried down the halls.

you'd walked for a long time, your arm aching from holding up the little candle in your hands so that you had sufficient lighting. after a while, you'd considered turning back. however, you noticed rats scurrying away from the direction you were headed, squeaking as they ran. you'd resisted the urge to scream at the feeling of one of the rats scurrying over your feet. something told you you had not failed in your endeavors.

you were only four-and-ten when you'd found an open gate that creaked softly under the lanterns on either side of the gate. you were only four-and-ten when you'd taken a deep breath and walked into a large room with high ceilings. moonlight streamed through the grated vents above, and you figured you were somewhere underground. under the silver of moonlight, you'd noticed movement at the other end of the room, where the floor sloped downwards into a pitch black darkness you could not fully decipher.

at four-and-ten you were curious, almost to a fault. your heart raced against your ribs as you stepped closer to the pitch black darkness. the hairs at the back of your neck stood on end as crept closer. in the darkness, a growl swept through the silence of the room. a dragon, you'd realized, in both awe and horror.

you'd stepped closer, and chains rattled through the room as glowing yellow eyes appeared in the darkness, floating too far above you. you had to crane your neck to look at it.

you stood frozen on the slope, your mouth dropping open as the creature emerged from the tunnels. only a part of it emerged. just its head, with it's blood red scales and sharp teeth and pointed ears and yellow serpent-like slits for eyes, however that was enough to have you scrambling back. you'd tripped over your cloak, landing on the sloped floor, fingers curling around dirt and stone; nothing.

then the creature opened its mouth. it's tongue was long, black, and a swirl of red - brighter than the candle that was long extinguished, brighter than the lanterns, a cacophony of red, orange, and yellow - filled it's mouth. you'd blinked in shock, before you realized what was happening.

fire. it was going to breathe fire.

you scrambled, and the dragon roared, and there was a shout in a language you'd never heard before. and a scream, and you felt like your arm was being pulled from it's socket as you managed to scramble away from the sloped floor leading into the tunnel, and chains rattled, and the creature screamed, and you felt heat, and your forearm hurt, and -

"what the hell do you think you're doing?"

you'd blinked up at the ringing voice, at the fact that you are no longer in the giant room - the dragonpit, you'd later learn - but rather in the hall you'd come down. a lantern sat on the floor beside the now closed gate, and a boy with a hood over his hair, sharp angled features, and dark, dark eyes stared at you with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression twisted with fury.

you'd looked down at your arm then, and it was red. burnt. fire burns, your father had said, and he'd be quite angry that you hadn't heeded his warning and had gotten yourself burned your very first night in king's landing.

still, you'd looked back at the person standing in front of the closed gate. the lantern light glanced off the boy's features, casting shadows along his face. he saved you, didn't he?

you opened your mouth to apologize, to thank him for helping you, to swear you wouldn't come down to the pits again - you had enough material to send wooyoung his letter and your curiosity had burned along with the skin on your forearm.

the boy stalked closer, and despite his lanky form, he was the same height as you. his eyes narrowed, "i asked you a question. what the hell were you doing down here?"

his tone struck a nerve with you at the time. as a child of the prince of dorne, no one has ever spoken to you in that way aside from perhaps your brothers. who did this boy think he was?

"is that any of your business? what were you doing down here?"

"saving an idiot from being burnt alive, apparently."

you've had quite a few insults through your way, but you were no idiot. you blinked at him, "i did not need your help."

"really?"

the boys smirk crept across his face in a way that had the hairs at the back of your neck standing on end the same way it had when you'd seen the dragon's mouth widening. he stepped closer, until he was nearly nose-to-nose with you, and said, "would you like me to toss you back in the pit so we can see how you fare?"

you shoved him. hard. he stumbled back, and his eyes widened in surprise. "are you threatening me?"

he merely laughed at you, "i saved you."

"saved is an overstatement," you muttered. you didn't like this boy. perhaps you were the idiot for sneaking into the dragonpit, but he was here too. he was just as much of an idiot as you were. your father used to joke that you and your brothers would rather die than reconcile when your egos were bruised. you'd only rolled your eyes at him in response, but perhaps your father was right on yet another thing. you did not like this boy and the way he spoke to you, with his head held high and his tone full of condescension. you'd sooner admit you were an idiot then thank him for saving you. not even the gods would change your mind. as he tilted his head at your words, you shook your cloak of dirt, ignoring the pain in your forearm, and you said. "now if i may take my leave."

the boy crossed his arms over his chest, "will you?"

you'd stepped past the boy, knocking your shoulder against his for good measure, and picked up his lantern. you turned to look at him one last time, his sharp angular cheekbones, his watchful eyes, his stupid smirk, and you lifted the heavy lantern to eye-level. you said, "i'll be taking this with me as well."

before he could respond, you'd turned and left. wooyoung once told you not to turn your back to your enemies, but your arm hurt and you were tired and you'd decided that was enough excitement for one day.

~.~.~.~.~

the next morning, the maids helped dress you. they'd discovered your burn wound then, puckered and red from the heat of the dragon's breath. you'd lied and said you'd gotten too close to the candlelight.

at four-and-ten, you were set to have lunch with the king and queen of westeros. the king was polite enough, though his gaze seemed to look straight through you, despite the fact that he kept an eye on you throughout lunch. the queen's gaze was the opposite. you felt her gaze on you when you were not looking at her. she seemed to be able to see you for all that you were. shortly after lunch began, the doors to the dining hall opened, and the guards announced, "the prince is here."

the doors swung open, and the prince strode in, chin raised. his silver-blonde hair fell in a halo around his shoulders, his kim red robes shining. despite the regality of it all, you recognized his face immediately. it was the boy from the dragonpit, you realized, horrified. no wonder he was at the dragonpit. no wonder he was able to save you. those dragons were his. he is a kim.

"hongjoong," the queen called, "you are late."

prince hongjoong bowed in apology, however when he straightened, his dark gaze landed on you, and he grinned that lopsided grin you've quickly come to despise, and he said, "apologies mother. yeosang's sword lesson ran over."

the king chuckled, "that boy could give you ten sword lessons a day and you would still be bested by any babe off the streets."

hongjoong did not say anything to that, instead sitting at his mother's side, straight across from you. his smile had slipped, but he'd only nodded.

instead, hongjoong met your gaze, and he asked, "who is this, your grace?"

"my new dornish ward," the king laughed then, and you did not like the sound of it. it brought a chill down your back. he said, "prince jeong of dorne entrusted us with his precious summer child. i advise you do not break this one, hongjoong."

"i should say the same to you, father," hongjoong muttered.

your gaze snapped between the two of them. they looked too much alike, with the same shade of silver-blond hair and the same sharpness. the only difference, however, was that the king's eyes were so blue they were almost white, and it was unsettling more than anything. even back then at the age of four-and-ten, you knew something was not entirely right. the prince had his mother's eyes, dark as night, and they were just as sharp, just as jaded.

the rest of the lunch was spent in overall quiet, polite inquiries about how you found your accommodations and when your lessons would start interspersed into the silence. you'd spent the rest of lunch focused intently on your plate.

~.~.~.~.~

"so the idiot is our dornish ward then?"

lessons began the next day, and as the king's ward - "and esteemed guest," the king said in a way that reminded you of wooyoung when he'd give you a compliment on your new clothes; sarcastic and a little mean, though you knew with wooyoung it was always good-natured fun. with the king you figured he meant it - you were scheduled to complete your lessons alongside the prince and his companions, yeosang of house kang and a kingsword-in-training whose father was currently the king's most trusted advisor and mingi flowers, bastard of house song, though there were rumors he would be legitimized soon.

so here you were, after history lessons with the grand maester, prince hongjoong's lopsided grin blocking your way back to your chambers. the septa in charge of your lessons hovered near the doorway, but she did not dare to interrupt. yeosang and mingi hung back, preoccupied with their conversation. they wouldn't interrupt either. it was the prince after all.

"not surprising at all," hongjoong finishes.

"what do you want?"

hongjoong raises a brow in surprise. the septa at the door clears her throat. perhaps you should not be so blunt with the prince, but you remember very clearly the warning his father gave him, and the warning he gave his father back. even at the young age of four-and-ten, you did not like the idea of anyone breaking you. whether that was merely a joke, or something else entirely, you did not want to find out. you touched the burn on your arm, and hongjoong's gaze flickered to your arm. you put the arm in question behind your back.

hongjoong met your gaze once more, and his dark eyes danced with a strange type of amusement. he tilted his head, and he grinned, all teeth, and he said, "i'd like an apology."

this time you laughed, "excuse me?"

"you snuck into my family's dragonpit without permission. most would lose their heads for such a misdemeanor."

"am i not your esteemed guest?"

this time hongjoong met your defiant glare with a slight frown, "do you truly believe such a thing? are you truly an idiot?"

you'd blinked at that.

"oh," he laughed, "you are."

he laughed and laughed and yeosang and mingi looked up from their conversation. yeosang tilted his head, glancing between the two of you. mingi's brows furrowed in concern.

hongjoong started to wheeze, and your patience wore thin. he was laughing at you, and you've never fared well with such a thing. you grit your teeth.

he pointed at you, turning to his friends, "can you believe them?"

this time you'd advanced on him, pushing the hand he was pointing at you with away. you said, "what is your problem?"

hongjoong blinked at his hand that you touched. you watched as he flexed his fingers once, twice, before he looked at you. there was a fire in his eyes that reminded you of the fire forming in that dragon's mouth.

"i understand the dornish have strange customs, so i'll let this slide," he said quietly, "for now."

you'd rolled your eyes, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "you're so kind, my lord."

yeosang snorted behind hongjoong.

hongjoong's brows furrowed, and his expression curled into one of annoyance. anger, even.

"yeosang and mingi are guests," hongjoong stepped closer, looming over you, and though he was not any taller than you, his presence, his anger, made you feel smaller. "if the chois from storm's end or the parks from winterfell were to visit, they would be guests."

he spat the word, and you'd blinked at his hostility.

hongjoong stepped too close, but you stood your ground.

hongjoong's tone was low, and the heat of his words alone could have burned you the way the dragon's breath had. he said, too quietly for anyone but yourself and maybe his friends to hear, "you were given to us by your father as a ward. perhaps that makes you valuable, but only as long as your father stays in line. you," he presses a single finger to your forehead, pushing you back, "y/n, are no guest. you will never be a guest."

you are four-and-ten, three days into your wardship, when you realize that you are merely a glorified hostage given to the king by your father. perhaps that was why your father apologized so sincerely, or why your mother appeared so sad, or why yunho kept embracing you. you were alone in king's landing, and everyone knew it. everyone knew it, but you.

you swallowed the growing lump in your throat as hongjoong grinned.

he said, "you understand now, do you not?"

you'd only stared at him, and the clear amusement he was getting from this.

he grinned, stepping back, before he waved his hand. the angry fire dancing in his eyes turned to ashes, but the infuriating grin was still there as he said, "now go on. apologize."

you would have. your mother would have wanted it. your father, too. perhaps not wooyoung, but certainly yunho.

but you'd only found yourself scowling at him. without a word, you'd spun on your heels and walked out the door, and you did not dare look back.

~.~.~.~.~

"sweet thing," yeosang's voice was quiet. "hiding from the prince, are we?"

yeosang's voice wasn't kind, nor was it unkind. it held a hint of amusement you'd come to associate with the kangs. you'd met his father briefly, and he'd looked at you as if you were scum beneath his feet, though he held an amusement in his tone as he asked if you were faring well. the court played games with you, you knew, even at such a young age, and you wondered why your father sent you here.

you understood it, to a degree. history spoke of it, of how your kingdom of dorne never truly bent the knee to the king of the seven kingdoms until very recently. how despite that, your kingdom acted as it's own separate entity on more than one occasion. you were a perfect tool to keep your father in line. the king would raise you in king's landing, perhaps even find you someone he trusts to betroth, and your father, yunho, wooyoung, your mother, they would all be tied to the kingdom of westeros even further. meanwhile, your father would not step out of line knowing that the wrong move could very easily end with your beheading. still, you could not help resent your father for such a life.

you turned five-and-ten, and the queen promised to host a lovely dinner in the hall, however, you were still lonely and it was quiet, and maybe that was because you were sitting in the maester's grand library with a small mooncake in front of you. the letters from your family were few and far between. the king's hand, yeosang's father, was the one who handed you your family's letters, and you wouldn't put it past him to keep some hidden from you. all your letters had their seals broken for a reason, and the hand always raised a brow at you as if he were daring you to question the opened letters. you never did.

you'd already defied someone of importance, and he'd made it his mission to antagonize you every moment he could.

lessons would mean he'd find some way to call you derogatory names without so much as an admonishment from anyone. whenever you did the same, you'd get sent to your chambers to reflect on your shortcomings.

the grand maester would speak of plants, and you'd ask a simple question. hongjoong would mutter something under his breath, and yeosang would laugh, delighted as he always was when hongjoong's mirth was directed at you. mingi would shake his head, but remain relatively quiet. the maester or septa in charge would scold hongjoong half-heartedly. whether the lessons were of book or sword, you'd end up facing some kind of comment from hongjoong.

("ugly, stupid, and terrible with the sword," hongjoong admonished, shaking his head, "how are you meant to find a spouse, y/n? my mother can only do so much."

yeosang snorted, and mingi sighed.

you took the flat side of the wooden sword in your hands and smacked him upside the head. it wasn't hard, but it was enough to evoke a gasp from the kingsguard training the four of you. before anyone could react, you'd swiped his feet out from under him and pressed the hilt of the wooden sword to his chest. you let it hover for a second before you tossed the sword to the side and said, "what was that, my lord? who is terrible with the sword?"

he lay sprawled on his back, blond hair strewn about his head, streaks of dirt across his flushed cheeks. he grit his teeth, and his eyes darkened as he peered up at you. you'd long tossed the sword to the side, but the kingsguard still yanked you back by the scruff of your neck, and hongjoong looked downright murderous. still, he did not call for your immediate punishment, as you'd expected. instead, he'd waved a hand and barked for training to continue.

you were matched with him more often than not for sparring matches, and you did not need to look very far to understand why. if hongjoong's hits left bruises, he would never know. you would not let it be known by anyone, even when hongjoong landed a smack across your face in the very same lesson. you fought back, landing your own sickening smacks on him, relishing in the way he winced at some of your blows. you'd ignored the kingsguard barking at you to soften your blows.)

yeosang stepped further into the library, taking the seat across from you, his eyes landing on the mooncake in front of you. his blonde hair lay at his shoulders these days, and his fragile features curling up into a small smile as his gaze returned to yours.

you scoffed at him, "i do not hide from anyone."

"a prince's wrath is nothing to take lightly."

"a prince should have better things to do."

yeosang laughed, and the sound rang throughout the quiet library. "you would think, huh?"

"what do you want?"

"i only came here for a book, yet," yeosang grinned, leaning closer, his voice dropping into a conspiring whisper, "i found you instead."

you'd rolled your eyes.

yeosang laughed.

you said, "get your book, then."

"i'd like to stay for," he gestured at the cake in front of you, "whatever this is."

"my name-day. it's today."

"ah," yeosang nodded, "i saw letters from your family on my father's desk."

there it was. that semblance of yeosang's father in yeosang. he raised a brow, and you'd frowned. you were never one for the court's penchant for playing games with pretty words that ran in circles. you said, "will your father keep those from me as well?"

"only if you do not behave," yeosang shrugged, "incurring the prince's wrath is not behaving, is it?"

"he deserves it," you frowned.

"oh," yeosang leaned his elbow onto the table, resting his chin on his palm. he observed you quietly, "he absolutely does, but who are we to decide what gods deserve?"

"you think hongjoong is a god?"

"he certainly thinks so."

"do you even like him?"

yeosang tilted his head, grinning in a way that made you wish you could dissect his thoughts. he said, "i care for him."

"you did not answer me."

"a sweet thing like you would not understand, i think. you dornish are -"

"i've heard plenty of you kangs."

this time, yeosang's expression turned dark, in a way you hadn't seen before. he raised his brows, his chin still resting in the palm of his hands. "oh?"

you hadn't, not really. only that his mother used to attend to the queen before she sent him away. rumor had it lady kang had spent a night in the king's chambers, and the queen had found out.

you said, "your mother -"

yeosang slammed his hands against the table, and the mooncake slipped from its plate, the goblet of water spilling a bit. yeosang's voice maintained that quiet musicality to it, even as he said, "continue that sentence, and you will make an enemy of me as well. i do not think you want that, y/n."

"just give me my damn letters." you'd forced your voice to remain steady, despite the way your heart raced, "that is all i wish for."

"a nameday wish? how sweet," yeosang's anger dissipated, and he merely smiled pleasantly.

you'd grimaced. it's been nearly a year since you'd set foot in king's landing, yet the madness of the people at court never ceased to unsettle you.

still, you found yourself saying, "do you do this often?"

despite it being nearly a year since you left sunspear, since you had lunch with the king and queen, the words he spoke to hongjoong lived in your head. i advise you do not break this one, hongjoong. you laid in bed wondering at those words. at hongjoong telling his father the same. hongjoong's clear vengeance against you since you've arrived did not quite border on breaking, but the very thought of it brought a chill down your spine. you hadn't dared speak of it to anyone, not even the maids you'd gotten close with. certainly not in your letters to yunho or wooyoung - those remained dry and polite, littered mostly with the sentiment of how much you missed them, since you knew damn well yeosang's father was reading them. being the king's ward, alone in a strange, admittedly cold place, with the implication of the prince breaking someone, frankly, terrified you more than his mean words and sparring matches. the thought of it always made the burn scar on your arm ache.

yeosang frowned this time, "pardon me?"

"the king said hongjoong broke others. do you like to sit with them and make small talk during the process?"

yeosang eyed you strangely then, a small quiet analytical gaze you did not want to be on the other end of.

he leaned back, regarding you.

"if he wanted to break you, he'd have done it long ago. if anything, you should be wary of the king. they do not call him the mad king for nothing."

you'd blinked. yeosang pressed his palms to the table and hauled himself up.

you'd only watched, quiet, as yeosang turned away from you.

before he shut the library door behind him, he said, "happy nameday, y/n."

it was not happy, and perhaps yeosang knew that it would not be.

the queen held a celebration for the court, and everyone danced and drank, and it had felt lonelier knowing your family could not attend.

mingi bowed to you before taking your hand to dance, waiting for permission before he could place his hand on your waist. he was as tall as yunho, and you'd sometimes believed they would have liked each other if yunho were allowed to visit you. that thought only made you sadder. you saw wooyoung in the few moments that brought you laughter here at court, and you saw yunho in the the even fewer moments of kindness afforded to you. you watched the queen throw her head back and laugh as hongjoong twirled her in circles, and you saw the king smile slightly, and you missed your family too much to have a happy nameday.

every year, it would end the same way.

~.~.~.~.~

you were halfway through seven-and-ten when the hidden whispers of a mad king were no longer relegated to the shadows. the queen stopped hosting dinners and balls, and more often than not she was delegated to her chambers.

she'd called on you once, something about a betrothal request from a choi that your mother had sent her way. you'd entered her chambers that smelled strongly of lemons and incense, and she'd greeted you in a dress that did not suit her tastes. she'd always been one to wear the most fashionable of dresses, but this outfit was loose and long, the neck high, and a scarf wrapped loosely around her silver-blonde hair.

"my mother?" you'd repeated, the word feeling foreign in your mouth. you hadn't wanted to sound too hopeful lest the queen noticed and felt you were ungrateful of your time in the red keep under her care.

"you've spent two years under my care," the queen said, "i am obligated to find you a good marriage. i've asked your mother for suggestions."

that was strange to you, how the queen was in charge of your betrothal, while your mother could merely make suggestions. two years away from sunspear, and your mother could only make suggestions for you.

it made you angry, the longer you thought about it.

when the queen dismissed you, there was a rage at the pit of your stomach that you could not dispel, and it was unfair. you were sent here as a ward - a glorified hostage forever used as leverage against your family and your people - and despite the dinners held in your honor and the maids who waited upon you and the new clothes bought for you, you were neither of king's landing nor sunspear anymore. your mother could not even make decisions for you, let alone your father. and, you resented them for it. you did not want to, but you resented that they were not here, that they did not prepare you for this, that they could not say anything of substance in their letters.

the rage sat and stirred on, until there was a slam against your chamber doors while you slept.

you wrapped your robes around yourself as you answered the door, and a member of the kingsguard bowed his head and said, "apologies, my liege. the king requests your presence with his small council."

at seven-and-ten, you were escorted in the dead of night to the one place you'd vowed never to return to since your first night. since the burn. the dragon.

you stood at the entrance to the dragonpit with your heart racing against your ribs and your eyes locked on the back of ser johnny's back, ser yuta behind you.

the door opened. you were announced. you'd entered, pulling your robes closer.

stood at the center of the room, with the crown sat on his head, stood king kim, his white hair standing on end, a heavy juxtaposition to prince hongjoong's neat appearance. even in his sleep robes, he remained vigilant, staring at his father's pacing, expressionless.

members of the king's small council stood beside prince hongjoong, from house kang and house choi and house song, even yeosang stood by hongjoong's side. yeosang was training to join the kingsguard, so you figured that is why he was by hongjoong's side. the queen, however, was not there.

there was a dragon, however, bigger than anything you'd ever seen before, the beast curled behind the king, eyes closed, breaths coming out in loud puffs, the dim lighting of the pit dancing off the dragon's scales.

the king swivels on you the moment you enter the dragonpit, the fire of the lanterns set in front of him dancing in his blue-white eyes.

his voice echoed all around you as he shouted, "do you understand what your father has done?"

you blinked, confused, your gaze flickering to the only other people you recognize in the room. to hongjoong, yeosang. yeosang did not look at you. hongjoong met your gaze briefly, but his expression remained expressionless. he'd gotten better at that, over the two years since your animosity begun. swordfights would end with you sprawled on the floor more often than not, and his expression as he looked down at you, the blunt sword pressed under you chin, would bring a chill down your spine. you won sometimes, and he'd only grinned when you did. when he won, it was different. he still called you an idiot, more than before. he still knocked his shoulder into yours if you did not move out of the way fast enough. you did the same back, and your septa would scowl at you and reprimand you before hongjoong could say a thing. this kind of lack of expression, though, scared you. it reminded you just how alone you were, despite spending so much time with the same people. there was no companionship there, and everyone knew it.

"answer me," the king's voice is loud.

"i do not, your grace," you're glad your voice was steady, strong even, because you sure as hell did not feel that way.

all this time, you'd hoped the mad king allegations were merely exaggerations. the time you'd glimpsed the king, he'd seemed happy enough. he berated his son in front of anyone, and perhaps you'd enjoyed that too much. you heard rumors that the king took a liking to hurting the women he bedded, and that he bedded women often. you never thought it'd extend to the queen, but no one ever considered violence against women as the reason for calling a king mad. the king barely left the red keep, and he had an obsession with green fire, burning those that defied him. you heard he refused to have his fingernails and hair cut, and as you looked at him, you noticed the sharp long claw-like nails, the long hair. a dragon-like demeanor, really.

"he's gathered a force ten thousand strong. we live in peaceful times. i have brought peace to the seven kingdoms, yet he is gathering an army without informing me."

at seven-and-ten, you're faced with the mad king in all his glory.

the mad king turned on you, strode closer until he could grip your chin, his long nails scratching at your skin. he said, "what part of you should i send your father, my dear ward?"

the reminder of your position, and how helpless, and useless, you really were, made the rage bloom in the pit of your stomach.

the king's right hand said, "your grace, if i may?"

the grip on your chin tightened, and you're sure his nails drew blood. he'd nodded.

"provoking dorne when they are ten thousand men strong will only disturb the peace you've graciously given us," yeosang's father's voice echoed, "we keep the child, and that army of ten thousand can be ours. jeong cares deeply for his children."

the mad king twisted your face as he turned to look at you. his face was gaunt, hollow, and resisted the urge to jerk out from under his touch and gaze. "how do you propose we keep the child?"

the councilman from house choi spoke up, his voice low. you met his gaze over the mad king's shoulder, and it was kinder than you expected, "marriage, of course."

"to your house?" the mad king cackled, but he let go of your face, and you'd rubbed at the stinging wounds, subduing the urge to step away from the man. "do you think i am foolish enough to allow your house access to an army of ten thousand, choi?"

"your grace, i would never."

"your grace," the king's hand spoke, "my son is also -"

"oh," the mad king swivels on his hand, "you would like the army instead?"

your gaze slid to yeosang in that moment, and you caught his grimace as he met your gaze. you gaze flit sideways, to hongjoong, and he frowned at you.

the king swiveled on you. he looked you over, like he was deciding something, before he called, "hongjoong, give me your knife."

your breath felt stuck in your chest as you watched hongjoong pull his knife from its leather pouch at his waist. he walked closer, his gaze not once falling on you, as he handed off the knife to his father.

"the prince of dorne requires a reminder, i think. you are right, lord kang, about marriage, but until we figure out who will betroth my ward, i will need something," he grabbed your chin once more, and you could do nothing but stand frozen in place. the king was mad enough to set you on fire if provoked, and perhaps you weren't so cautious when facing hongjoong, but this was different. this was the king, and no one was there to stop him. he dug his nails into your jaw, and he grinned, his teeth sharp, as he brought the knife to your face.

you squeezed your eyes shut as he yanked at your hair and cut a chunk of it off. the knife nicked your scalp, and sting of it had you trying to settle the tightness growing in your chest. he pushed you back, a chunk of hair in his hand, and he said, "wrap this up nice and pretty, and write our dornish prince of tonight's discussion, lord song." the king eyed you with a grin, "tell him next time, it will be fingers."

with that, he'd turned and sauntered out the dragonpit. his dragon remained asleep in front of you. the kingsguard followed after the king, along with lord kang and lord song. lord choi stopped in front of you for a moment, a small frown on his lips, before he side-stepped you and followed after the king.

you heaved for air you did not have, but you willed yourself to hold onto your wits until you'd reached your chambers. you looked up, and you were left with no one but the dragon in front of you, and you thought you should at least write to wooyoung about this dragon since you'd avoided seeing dragons since that first night, and -

"y/n," hongjoong's voice was low, quiet, as if you were a small animal that would run at the first sign of loudness. you looked to the side, to hongjoong stood before you, yeosang at his shoulder, his brows furrowed the tiniest bit as well. it was strange, to see even a modicum of concern in their gazes. you did not want to deal with it.

so you'd shook your head, and spun on your heels. your robes trailed behind you as you hurried out of the dragonpit. you heard your name, but you did not care to stop and listen.

thanks to hongjoong, you'd been aware of your place in the red keep and king's landing. you knew your status. still, you believed yourself protected in some way. you had status. you were still an honored guest, in the loosest of terms. but, your mother could only make suggestions for betrothals and proposals and marriage pacts, and the king put a knife to your face with too much ease, and now you were going to marry whoever the king wanted. that thought scared you more than anything. who wanted to remain at the whims of a mad king? the anger you'd felt for a while curled around your stomach, and you felt sick with it. you had nothing, and you missed everything, and you were so terrified of what the future held for you.

fingers, he'd said.

most of all, you were angry that you were so helpless, and -

"y/n." his voice was loud, but his touch on your elbow was louder, especially when he jerked you back, pulling you from your racing thoughts. you spun, yanking your elbow from his grip.

prince hongjoong was never tall - something you'd ridiculed him for on more than one occasion - but his presence was a looming thing. it loomed over you like a tree. he stood there, even as your tight chest heaved, his dark eyes flickering over your face.

he said, "where the hell are you going?"

"to bed," you gritted out, and you were unsure why you were letting your anger roll off you now, with hongjoong of all people. he was the mad king's son. the prince. he hated you. did you really need to give him reason to retaliate against you tonight as well? did you not have enough?

yeosang was not with him. you were relieved about that, at least. hongjoong's expression twisted into something unreadable. something you could not decipher. he sighed, "let me walk you back at least."

"why?"

he frowned. your tone still held so much anger, perhaps more than before. his brows furrowed, and he looked at your as if you were being strange. he asked, "what do you mean why? you're bleeding, and i had yeosang grab ointments for -"

"is this pity?" you'd stared at him, barely able to control the vindictive anger in your tone, "because if it's pity, i do not want it."

hongjoong's jaw clenched, "i'm trying to fucking help you, y/n."

"i don't want it," you snapped back, stepping closer to him. "i don't want your pity, or your help. i don't want any of it."

"i'm not asking if you want it. you're bleeding."

"and your knife and your father is the reason for it, hongjoong," you'd forgone formalities, and that made hongjoong still in front of you. "i'd rather die of infection than have you help me."

yeosang appeared around the corner, just as you spoke the last word. yeosang peered between hongjoong and yourself, his gaze flickering from your head to your toes before he handed hongjoong the basket of ointments.

hongjoong's gaze flit downwards, to your arm, and you realized he was looking at your burn. you pulled your robes up around you, tight. hongjoong's jaw clenched at your reaction, but waved a hand and turned on his heels as he said, "then die."

and it was angry and mean, and exactly what you expected of him. yet, the anger at the pit of your stomach churned and churned, and the loneliness you'd felt all these years hit too hard.

"fuck you," you'd called, with as much conviction as you could muster.

your voice cracked a bit around the second word. it was embarrassing. yeosang blinked at you. san swiveled to face you once more. his voice was cold, sharp, like the knife had been against your hair, "is that any way to speak to your prince?"

you'd glared at him, and he took slow steps in your direction. each step he took had you stepping back, despite yourself.

"answer," he said, stepping too close, "me."

he mirrored his father, and you both knew it. he did it on purpose. his eyes danced with black fire, and he reached up and pressed his hand to your face. his fingertips pressed against the cuts caused by his father's nails. you closed your eyes. he let out a small laugh, and he spoke so quietly, only you could hear him, "i thought you didn't want my help?"

you opened your eyes, and his face was too close. he tilted his head. you spat, "i don't."

he brushed his fingertips along some of the broken skin on your face, and it was a kind touch. much kinder than his next words.

"one day," he hummed, "i'll make sure you'll need it."

then he shoved the ointments into your hands and swiveled on his heels. he walked away, leaving you alone, and you swore to yourself you'd prove him wrong, anger swirling in your stomach.

~.~.~.~.~

at eight-and-ten, you attend the ceremony where mingi and yeosang took the cloak, and joined the kingsguard.

"sweet thing," yeosang grinned as he said it, watching you fiddle with the practice sword in your hand. hongjoong was late for practice, his lessons with his father running late, and you were left with yeosang and mingi for company.

over the years, you'd warmed up to mingi. you wouldn't declare him a friend. no one really was a friend to you in the red keep. but you'd consider him something more than an acquaintance. he often picked out books for you to read. he did not like to read the books, rather he enjoyed listening to you recount the stories to him.

"i love the way you tell stories. you make them sound more exciting," he said, with a big smile, and kind eyes. you liked the way reactions he'd give you, and the way he hung onto your every word.

he was a knight for all the right reasons. to help protect those he was sworn to, and lay down his life for his oath. at jousting tournaments, the nobles were smitten with his smile. his jousting stick would be full of flower wreath favors. mingi was good, and right, and everything you liked about the stories of good nights.

yeosang was the opposite. his popularity soared during jousting matches, and you did not blame anyone for it. he had good looks and a confidence to him that matched his skills. however, he liked to sit down across from you while you read and ask you questions until you glared at him. he only ever laughed at your glares.

worst of all, he'd taken a habit of calling you his sweet thing, knowing damn well the name had you seething. it reminded you of that night when you turned five-and-ten, and he was right about the mad king.

"what?"

you'd rolled your eyes as you turned to him, placing the end of the blunt practice sword to his chest to keep him from stepping closer.

yeosang's eyes glittered as he peered at the sword against his chest. he said, "i've taken the oath. you know what that means, do you not?"

"that your head has grown ten times in size?"

mingi giggled, "that is exactly what will happen."

yeosang rolled his eyes, playfully swatting at mingi with his sword. he shook his head, said, "my father cannot betroth me to you."

after that night, you'd heard nothing about your betrothal. it was hard to sleep most nights, since you lived in fear that the king would call you from your chambers once more and ask for a finger or two. you had no idea what your father had done in reaction to your hair, but perhaps no news was good news.

your letters from your family were short and quaint - which you figured was because they knew their letters were being read as well.

i should hope you are well. everything is intact, correct? yunho had asked in a letter following that night. it was lighthearted enough, but it was the only indication you had that that night hadn't been a figment of your imagination, aside from the scar along your hairline you now have.

the queen mentioned marriage to the elder son of lord choi, san, but then she mentioned yeosang. that was it.

"thank the gods," you'd responded.

yeosang smiled, even as he said, "i know you do not care for me, and i care very little for you, but i should advise you that whoever you wed will determine your fate."

"is that all i'm good for? a marriage pact?"

"sweet things like aren't good for much else, i'm afraid."

you'd pressed your sword further into his chest.

"yeosang, leave them alone," mingi stepped in, pushing your sword from yeosang's chest. he said, "yeosang likes to defy his father. this has nothing to do with you, he's just being an ass."

yeosang pouted, "i am not."

"you are," you muttered.

mingi said, "we know san. he's a kind man. he'll treat you well."

even under the dreary sun of king's landing, you saw sadness in mingi's expression as he spoke. yeosang snorted beside you, said, "what mingi wants to say is that he-"

mingi punched yeosang in the stomach. yeosang gasped, wheezing out a laugh. you'd frowned between them.

hongjoong arrived then, just as yeosang caught his breath and mingi raised his fist in warning. if you thought yeosang and mingi were strange, hongjoong arrived to the practice field fuming.

his jaw clenched and his fingers flexed around nothing. he tossed a practice sword in yeosang's direction and nodded towards the field, ignoring you completely. ever since that night, he'd avoided sparring with you.

the first lesson following that night, ser johnny handed you your sword, his eyes flickering to hongjoong expectantly as he held out the sword. ser johnny and ser yuta stopped questioning why hongjoong insisted on sparring with you a long while back.

hongjoong shook his head, turning to mingi and nodding. mingi'd raised his brows in surprise, but he'd joined hongjoong in battle, readying his sword. you'd figured it was because you still hand bruises on your face and a bandage on your head, but it continued long after your wounds healed. you sparred mingi often. sparring yeosang was him driving you into the ground moments after the match begun, smirking all the while.

you'd confronted him about it once, after a jousting tournament. you did not mean to, but it weighed on you, strangely enough. you'd given your favor to an older knight from the riverlands who lost terribly to hongjoong, thrown from his horse while hongjoong pranced up and down the tourney stands rousing the crowd. he'd returned to lady jihyo of hightower, and pressed a kiss to her hand.

you'd drunk too much ale, and it was too late for a person of your status to remain at a feast filled with rowdy drunk lord and lieges, but you'd snuck away from your septa and found hongjoong downing a pitcher of ale in the corner of the hall while yeosang and mingi cheered him on.

"oh my," yeosang slurred, grinning as he leaned over the table, holding a palm out for you to take. during the tournament, yeosang, mingi, and hongjoong held their jousting spears to your stands. many nobles placed their favors on their spears, so you scooted past them, ignoring them in favor of the knight from the riverlands. "this is no place for a sweet thing like you."

you'd smacked his hand away, and yeosang laughed, bowing dramatically. you'd rounded on hongjoong, who eyed you with a tilt of his head, his silver-blond hair falling into his eyes. he brushed it back, said, "yeosang is right. you should be in bed."

you'd plopped down on the bench beside mingi, taking his ale, and you downed a bit for yourself. the sweet warmth of the ale soothed your nerves, and the ever-present anger you felt around hongjoong.

"are either of you going to make me go to bed?"

yeosang cackled.

mingi shook his head, smacking yeosang.

hongjoong said, with a raise of his brows as he leaned close, "i can. if you'd prefer."

"no."

he leaned back, regarding you slowly. it left you feeling vulnerable in ways you did not often feel vulnerable, even during your time in king's landing under the scrutiny of so many nobles. he said, slurred voice low, "then stay. drink."

and you did. it was frowned upon to drink so much, because you were not a prince or knight. you were barely a warrior.

yet you sat and drank and drank and laughed with your enemies despite what they'd stood by and allowed the king to do to you.

mingi twirled you round and round until you fell over in a fit laughter, and yeosang stroked your cheek until you clasped your hand around his and pulled him away, and he dropped his hand in response.

and hongjoong watched you all the while, his dark eyes melting the way the night sky melts into the earth at the horizon.

you'd confronted him later, when you were left with your arms around hongjoong's neck as he carried you to your chambers. it was sad, you think, that you'd missed embracing someone else. your family, and the people of dorne, were affectionate. no one dared to touch anyone with such affection in king's landing.

you buried your face into hongjoong's shoulder, and you murmured, "do you think they miss me?"

a pause, before he murmured, "who?"

"my brothers. my family."

"i don't know," he said.

you'd nodded, and his grip around the underside of your knees tightened as he continued walking through the halls.

eventually, you said, "is there a reason why you've stopped sparring with me?"

he chuckled, and the sound reverberated through his body to yours. you were too close to him. he shifted, straightening you on his back. "do you miss me beating you?"

"i won sometimes."

"hardly."

you groaned, and he snickered, and eventually you reached your chambers. he let himself in without asking. he kneeled into front of your bed and you slid from his back onto your bed. he turned to face you, his gaze flickering over yours for a long, long moment.

you said, "the septa said i should not attend sword training any longer."

"i know," he dragged a hand through his silver hair, his silver rings glinting under the dim candlelight of your room, "i told her you will attend every lesson. including sword training."

"is your word law now?"

his sideways smirk glinted in the light, "it is where it matters."

"do you think you could have stopped your father then? with just your words?"

you didn't mean to say that, but you were drunk, and your tongue was loose.

hongjoong froze where he stood, with hand in his silver hair, and the candlelight casting long shadows up his face.

he crouched beside your bed where you laid, and he brushed a hand along your hair, right where the knife left a scar, and he said, "i said where it matters, y/n."

you'd blinked at that. did what happened to you not matter? or perhaps he is punishing you for denying his help that night? why do you even care? you'd hated him since the moment you laid eyes on him.

you looked at him, and he peered down at you, soft orange candlelight reflecting off his black eyes. his fingertips flit from your face to your outstretched arm. to the old burn scar there. his fingertips grazed along the skin. up and down. up and down.

you slurred, "and when it's my fingers next? then what will you do?"

"do you want my help? is that what you're asking for?"

you shook your head. hongjoong's stroking of your burn scar paused. you said, "i don't want it. i meant what i said."

"and i meant what i said," hongjoong curled his fingers around your forearm, brushing his knuckles along the scar.

slowly, he rose to his full length, and you stared up at him. his expression grew stoic, unreadable almost, as he peered down at you.

he said, "sleep well, y/n."

you did not.

he did not speak to you so candidly since that night.

and he did not continue sparring with you.

now here he was, fuming as he landed blow upon blow on yeosang. yeosang caught each swing easily, though the blows were strong. you could see yeosang struggling to keep up.

hongjoong ignored you throughout the lesson, and you found yourself getting annoyed the longer it went on, until the lesson came to an end and mingi patted your back kindly.

~.~.~.~.~

"choi san, of storm's end, first of his name," hongjoong said. "he's a noble man."

you sat with a book in your lap, the library quiet. too quiet. with hongjoong stood above you, his shoulder-length hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, you felt there should be someone there as a buffer at least. the heat radiating from him reminds you of fire, untamed, unbridled.

"i do not speak in riddles, my prince."

hongjoong shut his eyes, and his jaw ticked. you watched the movement curiously. he seemed high-strung today. "he's coming on the morrow to meet you."

"ah," you'd sighed, "i still do not understand why i should care."

hongjoong fell into a crouch in front of you, his elbows resting on his knees, his hair falling into his dark eyes. a side smile filled his expression, and made your stomach churn. whether that was in fear or excitement or curiosity was beyond you, especially when he placed a hand adorned in rings atop the book in your lap, and he said, "come with me."

"pardon me?" you blinked between his hand and his face.

"i have something to show you," and the smirk that dripped from his lips settled under your skin.

you said, "at this hour?"

"at this hour."

he spoke softly. you considered him carefully.

"is it safe?"

he could see your resolve slipping. that was why he removed his hand from the book on your lap.

hongjoong tilted his head, the candlelight of the library dancing in his dark eyes. "as long as you stay by my side."

you ask, "will you stay by my side?"

hongjoong only smiled, and held out a hand.

after another moment, you took it, and he helped you to your feet.

in that moment, you should have known exactly how the whole story would end.

#ateez angst #ateez scenarios #hongjoong angst #hongjoong #ateez

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differenceonlyyoucanmake · 4 years

Text

12 Dancing Princesses Thoughts/ Headcanons/ Assorted Stuff that Came to Me in a Dream

I’m kind of tired, so this may be incomplete. I wanted to put it out there, though. My dreams have mostly been from Courtney’s perspective, not an omniscient one. Because of this, there may be some gaps.

Ashlyn:

- Deserved so much better

- It actually makes me upset. I woke up from one of my 12dp dreams in TEARS because she deserved so much better.

- After Isabella passed, Ashlyn took on the role of being a maternal presence to her sisters. She did this extremely well, but it’s also heartbreaking how she pushed herself to grow up.

- Randolph was not a capable father during the lowest periods of his grief, and Ashlyn definitely had to compensate for this.

- Randolph... could have been kinder to her, especially after the queen died. He couldn’t look Ashlyn in the eyes. She reminded him too much of his late wife.

- Isabella wanted Ashlyn to inherit her belongings and position, but Randolph had his own favorites (I promise I don’t think he was an evil person, but he could have done better).

- I think Ashlyn would identify as bisexual.

- She knew several instruments, but was most attached to the flute. Her most treasured memories involved Isabella giving her flute lessons.

- She was expected to be the mature one all the time, so she repressed a lot of her own frustrations in favor of caring for others.

- She was closest to Blair and Courtney.

- She was a little soft spoken, and one of the most “ladylike”; Ashlyn was one of the sisters who struggled least with Rowena’s lessons.

- The younger sisters had a hard time remembering that she was a person capable of all sorts of feelings. They expected parental behavior from her, and got really confused when she expressed negative emotions.

- Some of the sisters assumed Ashlyn didn’t care for sweets, because she would offer hers to the others whenever they got any. In reality, she thought this was kind behavior. She showed sacrifice in several, seemingly inconsequential, ways.

- Despite seeming so mature, she always felt as if she stopped growing up after her mother passed.

- As the sisters grew up, Ashlyn really struggled with finding her purpose. She didn’t get the power her mother promised her. She put her own ideas and prospects aside to care for her sisters. She ended up floating from kingdom to kingdom, with varying success in several different courts. She eventually came to live with the other eldest sisters.

- Despite being (in my view) cheated out of her kingdom, Ashlyn seldom expressed frustration or resentment. She adopted the attitude of a retired noble early in life, spending a lot of time on composing music and serene hobbies.

Blair

- horse.... horses..... sleeping in the stables...... with the horses

- I’m kidding! Mostly!

- Blair was bold and opinionated. She also loved witty conversation and comedy.

- What else did she love? Horses.

- She would sneak out all the time to ride.

- Her favorite horse was black and very tall.

- She was closest to Ashlyn and Courtney.

- Blair was sick in childhood.

- Though the older sisters were known for being more refined and elegant, Blair pushed this notion plenty.

- She loved adventure.

- All of the sisters missed the golden pavilion, but Blair struggled with this a lot.

- She didn’t have as many problems with Randolph, but sometimes she would CAUSE problems on purpose (mostly defending Ashlyn and calling out his favoritism).

- She turned her own estate later in life into a close replica of the pavilion. The grounds were massive.

- She was intelligent, but struggled with many academic tasks. If she needed to read something that was challenging, she would often hand it to Courtney for help. She would only have motivation to read if it was about subjects she loved.

- This is ironic, because she later came to be a published writer. I believe these were short works, similar to pamphlets.

- Blair enjoyed throwing and attending large balls and gatherings. She was still chasing the thrill of the magical visits she’d make with her sisters.

- Blair was considered extremely beautiful, and drew admirers wherever she went. She accumulated many pieces of ruby jewelry this way.

- She also liked wearing capes and cloaks.

Courtney

- Generally shy, Courtney made an exception when she stood up for Ashlyn.

- Courtney longed to travel, and books provided her with a form of escapism until she was able to.

- She had a health scare after the events of the movie, and this somehow tarnished her standing in society??

- She wasn’t straight, probably a lesbian.

- She was well read on political matters and the history of their kingdom, and would often be the first one to noticed Randolph’s incompetence in certain areas.

- She was a young teen when she first started rewriting her father’s treaties in her spare time. She learned after the first time not to bring her drafts to him.

- When Ashlyn and Blair left home, she grew closer with Fallon. Both had a streak of wanderlust, and gravitated towards the romantic.

- Courtney published poetry under a pseudonym starting at a young age. This probably helped her somewhat. As she grew up, her poems grew in notoriety, and many debated who their true writer was. A significant portion focused on love between women and feeling trapped.

- I think she had been to Apollonia (Antonio’s kingdom in Island Princess) several times, and knew both Luciana and Antonio from an early age. I think this was the case for many of the older sisters.

- After their mother died, the girls traveled less, and met less new people. Courtney was bothered by this.

- She was generally thought of as calm and quiet, but she felt emotions deeply ( even if she didn’t always express them).

Delia

- Athletic and spunky

- Delia enjoyed more structured sports.

- She was prone to sunburns.

- Delia was enamored with the sun and light. She would hang prisms next to her windows to watch the light refract.

- She was closest with her twin, Edeline. They enjoyed playing croquet together and (though it was usually harmless) gossiping.

- Delia had a temper. She would deal with guilt afterwards if she lashed out at someone.

- Her emotional regulation issues came to light after her mother died.

- Delia dealt with a lot of guilt in general. She didn’t feel as put-together as her older sisters, or as carefree as the younger ones. She felt guilty for not fitting in, and expressed feeling like an inconvenience to those around her.

- Outsiders thought she was dim-witted, and she internalized this.

- Delia often had a problem of interrupting people or speaking loudly, so it was advised that she stay quiet when visitors came. This really hurt her self esteem, since she was always happy to make new friends.

- Rowena had offended her when she was a young girl, and Delia never forgot this.

- Delia liked birds, and hummingbirds fascinated her.

- She had to learn to accept herself later in life.

- She discovered people who appreciated her for who she was, and finally left her inhibitions behind.

- After that, she became known for her charisma and charm.

Edeline:

- Edeline shared a lot of interests with her twin, such as sports and outdoor activities.

- She enjoyed making others laugh.

- Once Genevieve married Derek, Edeline took it as her cue to BULLY that poor man.

- Seriously, it probably warded off suitors for her other sisters.

- It was usually in good fun, though.

- Edeline disliked rules and structure.

- She was closest with Delia.

- She often stood up for her twin.

- Edeline had a good ear for gossip, and had her own methods of fact checking stories she’d heard.

- Something happened with her at Genevieve’s wedding?? Maybe she broke something??

- Edeline traveled some, but found her way back home eventually.

- She DESPISED Rowena. None of the sisters liked her, but Edeline couldn’t stand her from the beginning.

- Edeline would have loved to know about the concept of roast humor.

- She liked to have sleepover-like setups in their bedroom. She would build forts and encourage the others to come tell ghost stories. When the memories of her mother came to her, she felt the need to DO something, even if the action wasn’t necessarily related.

- She became known for her humor.

Fallon

- Fallon was pretty much independent, until she and Courtney bonded.

- Fallon always wanted pets, and was jealous that only Genevieve was allowed to have one (besides....bugs and the horses, who were kept outside).

- She would try to befriend wild animals, and nursed some injured animals back to health.

- I don’t think Fallon was straight.

- Fallon was sensitive, and had a hard time dealing with Rowena’s harsh treatment.

- Fallon had nightmares, and would often go to her older sisters for comfort.

- She enjoyed the company of others. She would spend time with servants and other people considered to be below her station.

- Fallon played the harp.

- She loved the softer aspects of life.

- She devoted time to charitable causes.

- I just know that she did that classic princess trope of posing as a commoner. That’s such a her thing to do.

- She gained a reputation for being eccentrically kind. She had a large family of animals, who she took EXCELLENT care of.

Genevieve

- You may have noticed that the older sisters were generally closer with each other. Well, Genevieve wasn’t, and she made it that way.

- She.... liked to act like she was in charge. She often undermined Ashlyn’s efforts.

- She was Randolph’s favorite.

- Genevieve got along better with the younger sisters, especially Lacey.

- She probably did have leadership skills, but a lot of them came from acting like she did.

- Like I’ve implied above, she got a lot of power after she married, instead of Ashlyn.

- Derek wasn’t a bad person, but he was a COBBLER. How did she get more political power by marrying a COBBLER?

- She butted heads with Blair and Courtney quite often after the events of the movie.

- Basically, she had Main Character Disease dsfghjk

- She traveled less than the other older sisters.

- Admittedly, she wasn’t a poor leader.

- I have a feeling she adopted a lot of children later in life.

- She and Derek had a pretty long transitional period after they married, meaning they spent more time really figuring out who they were as a couple rather than jumping into their duties right away.

- Genevieve kind of symbolized the cutoff for the sisters who had lots of solid memories about their mother and those who didn’t.

- She was one of the best dancers out of the sisters.

- She was brave and self-assured.

- She knew what she wanted, and she would get it.

- After Twyla, she got some other cats. They were mostly orange and/or long haired.

- She never quite shook her habit of being late.

Hadley

- Hadley was closest to their twin, Isla.

- As Hadley grew up, they became more comfortable being gender nonconforming. They may have been trans, but I don’t remember.

- Hadley enjoyed fencing.

- Stilts were Hadley’s first love, and led to appreciation for other daring activities.

- Hadley also loved the ocean. Many of their adventures involved being at sea. They spent years sailing longside their twin on a ship Genevieve gifted them.

- Rumors swirled that they were a pirate. Though these weren’t true, Hadley didn’t mind.

- Hadley was energetic and intuitive.

- Hadley was an athletic risk-taker. They enjoyed acrobatics and other feats of the human body.

- Hadley became known for their adventurous exploits and fencing prowess.

- Though Hadley initially idolized Genevieve, she eventually sided with Ashlyn and the other older sisters once she learned the whole story.

- Hadley stayed with the older sisters after whatever scary thing happened with Courtney.

- Hadley mentored people, and may have been a teacher.

- She really missed the times when all of their sisters got along.

- There were rumors that Hadley was affiliated with darker forces, when in reality Hadley was one of the most well-adjusted.

Isla

- Isla was closest to Hadley.

- Isla liked adventure, but she was less daring than Hadley.

- Isla stayed our of most business involving the older sisters, preferring to spend time with her twin.

- She loved swimming.

- Isla had a collection of maps.

- She was known for being easy going.

- She sometimes had to bring Hadley down from an idea that seemed too dangerous.

- Isla was the voice of reason in some situations.

- She never lost her passion for dance, and learned new styles through their travels.

- Isla had pet birds.

- She was admired for her grace and acrobatic talent.

- Isla enjoyed circus-like acts.

- She was more bothered by the pirate rumors than Hadley.

- Isla enjoyed researching magic, and trying to find a way back to the magic pavilion.

- Isla was non-confrontational.

- She tried many forms of artistic expression, from writing to painting.

- Isla was loyal to Hadley, and would be there for her twin no matter what.

Janessa

- Janessa maintained her love of insects.

- Since they were so young when it happened, none of the triplets remember details of the magic pavilion. If their sisters weren’t there to confirm their memories, they would have thought it was a dream.

- Janessa grew up to be very interested in science.

- Janessa found the proper way to care for insects, and took pride in how well she did it.

- She was prone to worrying.

- She often lamented the fact that she was so young when they visited the pavilion.

- Janessa was considered obedient and passive.

- Janessa heard how much she looked like her mother (though not as much as Ashlyn). She had mixed feelings about this, because she couldn’t really remember what her mother looked like.

- Janessa was closest to Kathleen.

- She became close with Edeline and Delia when she got older.

- Janessa knew she wasn’t Randolph’s favorite, and took this personally. She tried, especially in her youth, to gain his approval.

- She also knew that Genevieve preferred Lacey, even though all the triplets looked up to Genevieve.

- Janessa balanced her love for science with her royal duties, and used what power she had to provide exposure and resources to research institutes.

Kathleen

- Kathleen was creative and unconventional.

- She was closest with Janessa, and became close with Isla later in life.

- Kathleen was known for her paintings.

- She started out painting things like landscapes, then moved into less traditional subjects.

- Her royal portraits were renowned in particular. They captured royalty doing activities that were important to them, or in significant fantasy settings.

- She painted portraits of her siblings and father. These became their favorites. She captured: a relaxed Ashlyn writing music, Blair on horseback in mid-air, Courtney in her library, Delia in the sunlight, Edeline in a fantastical outdoor scene, Fallon with her animals, Genevieve dancing, Hadley fencing, Isla swimming, Janessa surrounded by flying insects in the sky, and Lacey at work.

- Though she tried many times, Kathleen was not satisfied with her attempts of painting her mother. She felt like she was simply copying pre-existing portraits.

- The only painting of her mother she was somewhat pleased with was one of Queen Isabella walking away, her back to the viewer as she walked into a golden pavilion.

- Kathleen tried to paint the magic pavilion, and these painting had a fuzzy, dream-like quality.

- Her art gained a significant following.

Lacey

- She was Randolph’s second favorite.

-Lacey was unshakably loyal to Genevieve. She didn’t understand why the older sisters were upset about her being given power and land.

- Lacey struggled with illness as a child. She was inspired by the healing water at the pavilion to study medicine.

- Lacey struggled with muscle strength and coordination well into adulthood.

- Despite this, she continued dancing.

- She looked very similar to Randolph’s relatives.

- She felt the need to defend Genevieve, and would often challenge her older sisters because of this.

- Although Ashlyn never challenged her, Lacey harbored resentment towards her. She blamed Ashlyn for the fact that Genevieve’s approval wasn’t universal.

- Lacey was interested in scientifically based medicine, as well as magical remedies.

- Lacey was always closest with Genevieve, and lived with her for a long time.

- Lacey idolized Genevieve and Derek’s relationship, often heralding it as the pinnacle of romance.

- She searched for a way back to the magical world, believing it contained the key to eternal youth and immortality.

- Lacey didn’t care for travel as much as some of her sisters, but she usually enjoyed when she did leave her own kingdom.

- She grew up to be Genevieve’s closest adviser, and an accomplished healer.

Canon Noncompliant Things

- The sisters left the pavilion by dancing in birth order. Although Derek did leave by dancing with Genevieve, they weren’t responsible for leaving in the first place. Once again, Ashlyn doesn’t get the credit she deserves dfghjk

- Genevieve had an actual wedding, not whatever that was that was shown at the end of the movie. It was smaller than a lot of royal weddings (because Derek didn’t have many connections or people to invite), but it was a serious affair.

#long post #barbie and the 12 dancing princesses #barbie movie #barbie movies #barbie and the twelve dancing princesses #Barbie in the Twelve dancing princesses

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oreozfox · 3 years

Text

My Favorite Girl

Finally wrote an InoAoi fic! I hope you enjoy!

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

It was dark. Snow was falling softly outside. The Butterfly Mansion was quiet, since its residents were asleep. Or rather, most of them.

Aoi Kanzaki was enjoying a moment alone after a very long work day. Winter had come, and with it an outbreak of viral illness in the village nearby. Up until now, Aoi had been constantly busy with ailing patients. She’d hardly even had the time to greet Tanjirou, Nezuko, Zenitsu, and Inosuke, who had come to visit.

Presently, Aoi sat down by the kotatsu with a thick blanket around her shoulders, drinking a hot cup of tea and watching the snow fall outside. Just a bit alone time, she told herself, then I’ll turn in for the night.

However, her solitude wasn’t to last. She heard the shuffling of tired feet before she saw who owned them. Inosuke trudged into the room, his eyes half-lidded and sleepy. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Aoi replied, arching an eyebrow as Inosuke plopped down next to her. “Do you need something?”

“Nah.” Inosuke yawned. “‘ ‘S just chilly in here.”

Maybe if you actually wore a shirt, Aoi wanted to retort, but she decided against it.

Meanwhile, Inosuke could observe that Aoi wasn’t as cold as he was, so he scooted closer to her until their shoulders were touching.

Aoi tensed slightly, feeling an all too familiar blush creeping onto her face. “You know where the extra blankets are.”

“Yeah.” Aoi felt Inosuke shrug. “But you’ve been holed up in the medical ward all day. I’ve hardly gotten to talk to you yet.” I missed you, was what Inosuke might’ve said, had he not conditioned himself to never admit something that might sound needy. He turned to look at her again, and Aoi saw his brows furrow in confusion.

“What?”

“You’ve got Kanao-Face.”

Aoi turned fully to him now. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re all pink here.” Inosuke gestured at his face. “I know you can’t be sunburned in this weather, and I can’t sense any sickness. You’re doin’ that thing Kanao used to do. Y’know, when she thought Tanjirou wasn’t lookin’? She’d look at him and get Kanao-Face.”

Aoi sighed. In the privacy of her own mind, she could admit that she’d had a special fondness for Inosuke for many months now, as dense and bullish as he could be. This had led to him noticing her embarrassed blushing a few times, and he never failed to comment on it. “I’m surprised you’re not calling it ‘Zenitsu-Face’.” she finally said, completely dodging the accusation. “He blushes way more than Kanao does.”

Inosuke shook his head. “Zenitsu-Face is different. His face goes completely red, like a tomato. It makes him look like an idiot.”

Aoi stifled a laugh at this, shaking her head in amusement. Because of this, she didn’t notice that Inosuke was still looking at her, almost thoughtfully. On top of that, he’d gotten a touch of ‘Kanao-Face’ himself, and he didn’t know why. For a few months now, Inosuke too had noticed he felt different around Aoi. He’d chalked it up to her being his “favorite girl”, but somehow it felt like there was still something missing; something he didn’t yet understand. And for some reason, not understanding frustrated him. A lot.

“Hey, Aoi?” Inosuke broke the short silence, surprising Aoi that he’d gotten her name right on the first try. “Speaking of Kanao… Is Kanao Tanjirou’s favorite girl?”

Aoi looked at him strangely. “Besides Nezuko, I guess.”

“That’s different, though. Nezuko is Tanjirou’s kid sister.” Inosuke glared at the floor, his cluelessness beginning to irritate him again. What made it different, exactly? Well, there were things Tanjirou did with only Kanao, like… “If someone has a favorite girl, does that mean they love her?”

Aoi nodded slowly, still unsure of what Inosuke was getting at.

“Then…” Inosuke turned fully to Aoi, no longer hiding his ‘Kanao-Face’. “Since you’re my favorite girl, does that mean I love you?”

Aoi’s eyes went wide. Her heart began thump, thump, thumping. For a few moments she was lost for words. After a few moments of staring, mouth agape, she managed to croak. “I dunno… Do you?”

Inosuke thought about it. He thought he loved a lot of things. Fighting and food, for example. And yet, what he felt for Aoi felt like that and more. “Yeah… I think I do. I, uh, think I love ya, Aoi.” He didn’t understand why it was so hard to say. It seems so easy for Monjirou and Monitsu…

Testing to see if it felt right, Inosuke mimicked something else Tanjirou did, one last time, leaning forward and giving Aoi a quick peck on the forehead, which left her stunned. He sat still, waiting for her response and resisting the urge to poke fun at her quickly-evolving ‘Zenitsu-Face’. But then, he noticed tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. Aw, man, I messed it up!

But then, with speed that frankly impressed Inosuke, Aoi suddenly dove forward, throwing her arms around him. “You dummy!” she cried, and yet her voice sounded utterly delighted.

Hesitantly and a bit awkwardly, Inosuke rested his hands on Aoi’s back. “Whatcha cryin’ for?”

“I’m not crying!” Aoi protested, not lifting her face from his chest to prove it.

Inosuke frowned a bit grumpily at that answer. “Yeah you are. Did I… hurt your feelings?”

“No!” Aoi looked up at him, wiping her eyes. “What made you think that?”

“I dunno…” Inosuke rubbed the back of his neck. “I just… didn’t know how to say what I wanted to say, y’know? I thought I said the wrong thing.”

Aoi smiled, a bit charmed. He could be really sweet on the inside, even without meaning to. To reassure him, she gathered the courage to kiss his cheek. “You didn’t. I’m proud of you. These are just happy tears. I’m happy because I love you too…” Her voice became uncharacteristically small at the end as she averted her eyes, still a little embarrassed.

Inosuke blinked, a bit surprised at her answer, before grinning slightly. “Heh.” Not much of a response, but it was all he could come up with at the moment.

What a profound effect they had on each other.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #inoaoi #aoino #my post #my writing

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

Note

Kai and angel on their honeymoon and the eight precepts especially rapa call them to check in or in rappa’s mission to prevent Kai from having a good time and for them not to bring home a future mini Kai, and Kai calls pops and throws his phone breaking it and relaxes since he knows only chrono, pops, nemoto and mimic have angels phone number

Mentions of sexy times and NSFW, you were alerted.

"Kai!" You waved from the sand, near the start of the ocean as he waved nonchantly from the balcony of the room the both of you had gotten for your honeymoon.

It was indeed a beautiful place you had chosen but it was just so fucking hot. His fear was to get a tan or a sunburn due to how pale he was and how easily he could burn his skin.

You pouted and hitted your feet on the sand, reminding him of a child as he chuckled under his breath. You wanted him to go in there surely...

He could take a shower after, he was just going to walk to you, feet protect by his shoes anyway so-

He flinched at the ring tone of his cellphone and furrowed his eyebrows at the device.. he gave orders and alerted Pops to NOT bother him while on his vacation if it wasn't a emergency... Picking it up to show you, he saw your mouth turn into a "O" shape and start to walk to the cabin.

"Spill it out." He answered the phone and grimace at the voice of the last person he wanted to hear.

"Good mornin'to ya too Overjerk."

"Rappa." He growled, breathing in and out with a hand pinching the middle of his eyebrows "Just say whatever it is..."

"Yeah whatever. The thing is that Tengai is being a bitch about being partner up with me and I agree with that-"

"rAPPA STOP INVENTING THINGS AND LEAVE MASTER ALON-" he winced at the shouts of Tengai and pushed away the cellphone from his ear just at the moment you entered.

"What is going on?" You whispered as he only shaked the cellphone to his hand.

"Take your problem to Nemoto or Chronostasis and don't you dare bother me anymore." Without waiting for a reply he ended the call with a sigh, noticing your smiling at him "What?" He spatted as you giggled.

"Nothing! Nothinh!" You shaked your hands as he scoffed at your attitude "since someone is too afraid of getting his feet on the ocean how about a hot spring? I heard that is good and no one can enter if there is a newly wed couple~" you singles the words as he arched one eyebrow, letting a sigh fall from his lips after wards and grabbing a towel.

"Then come take a shower first."

"Just the shower?" You pouted mockingly as he pulled his mask down to reveal a lustful smirk to pair up with his predatory gaze.

"Your choice."

"Isn't it better to take your cellphone?" You asked as he was grabbing the things to go.

"Huh?"

"Asides from that one call-" you giggled as he grimaced In anger at only remebering "Might happen something important. Pops can call and all." You shaked his cellphone slightly to emphasize as he only rolled his eyes, giving you a wave as if it was a whatever sign to take with you both as well.

He cant even remember if he was ever on a hit spring, but being with your significant other along on the hot water was something entirely pleasant to be honest.

... not even comenting about how he threaten the people of the resort that if that water wasn't clean he was going to commit a genocide.

"Enjoying yourself?" He muttered with closed eyes and head tilted back as he felt you nod, but soon cracked one of his eyes open when he felt you crawling your way up to his lap "What is my angel up to now? Only one wasn't enough?" He growled, hands founding your soft hips as you giggled not so innocently.

"Was it for you big boy?" His eyes narrowed with a smirk, pulling you closer to his naked and wet chest as he hesitated for a bit to kiss you until you fulfilled that hidden desire for him.

It was all so new to him... letting someone touch him, kiss him, please him even... and the more strange was that he felt the same desire of pleasing you... maybe it was the newly wed thing going on his mind. But heck, the lust felt too good to just stop.

The kiss was heated enough already with a battle of tongues which he won for the dominance, as usual the bastard, and just about when he decides to rut his hips on yours for just a little bit-

"Mister?" He froze and widened his eyes; pulling you to his chest as he glared at the poor employee whose yelped on his feet at the look he gave to him as he craddled your head on his neck and hidded your indecent alomg with the water and the steam.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry sir but is a call for y-you-!" The poor boy showed his cellphone and Chisaki snatched from his grip with a order to get the fuck out before you both sighed in annoyance.

"What now?" He growled, you still on his lap as he trailed his fingers up and down your spine as you listened along.

"So not wanting to interrupt your fucking but Tabe ate all the food-" his jaw clenched as he heard shouts from Nemoto from the background to leave him alone "I DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT YOU ALL WANTED TO ME TO CALL OVERHAUL-!"

"I dont care if all of you wanted to call me, but if the issue is about Tabe eating the food is not my problem and go talk with other person because I am fucking busy." He growled the words as glared at you when he felt your lips pecking and ocassionaly giving kitten lips on his jaw line and neck.

"Yeah but we also dont want little overhauls walking here for now so let's say is for a good reason-"

"You wHAT-" he bitted his bottom lip when he felt your hand trailing down further his member as yousucked on his earlobe. "Dont call me anymore for those s-stupid reasons Kendo Rappa I swear-" he ended the call as he let out a low growl when you dolled your hips against his as you giggled.

"Ops?" You tilted your head at him as he grabbed your hips and pulled against him with more force causing you to stiffle a moan.

"Not here naughty thing." He growled before kissing and sucking on your bottom lip before he despatched with drunk lustful eyes as he helped you get up to get out.

He was on the 8 sleep when he listened to the cursed ring tone again... grumbling turning away and searching limbs of arms and legs to extend his arm on the nightstand. Not even greeting as he waited for the other person to speak first.

"Hello? Master?"

"Nemoto this better be important..." he grumbled, bare hand brushing his messy brow looks and rubbing his eyes, still closed and his voice still husky and sore from sleep and... other things.

"So.. master... About the calls Rappa made to you... they were all, well. Collects calls..." he cracked his golden eyes open, glaring at the window door as if he was Rappa and poor Nemoto.

"It's just that?" He growled. Before Nemoto could even answer he listened to someone else's voice shouting and snatching the phone out of Nemoto.

"About the collect calls scree it but seriously dude keep it on your pants or-"

"GO TO HELL RAPPA!" he shouted and threw his phone at the wall in anger. Causing you to joint awake.

"What happened?!" You almost shouted if it wasn't for Chisaki patting your head as a signal it wasn't anything seriously before he got up and sized his cellphone back to normal.

"The precepts, especially that low life thug Rappa just giving me a headache." He grumbled as he growled at the calls on his cellphone.

"What's new huh?" You sleepily giggled while opening your arms at him "Cmon go back to sleep.."

He stared at his phone for a bit before leaving on the nightstand and getting under the covers with a sigh, letting you cuddled up to his chest even if he was extressed out.

Your movements of your hands on his back and the humming caused him to calm down and relax for a bit... not until the cellphone ringed again.

"Kai, honey calm down-" you tried to prevent before Chisaki got up abruptly and answered the call.

"FUCKING HELL WHAT NOW?!"

"..Jesus boy I was just calling to make sure you and (Y/n) were okay, did I wake you up or interrupted something?"

It was silence for a bit before Kai sitted back down on the bed with a mortified look, you crawled your way to sit besides him as he showed the contact name as you winced.

"Chisaki? Hello? Chrono is this thing really working?"

"... Apologies Pops..." your husband muttered and it would be comical if it wasn't tragically how loud Kai's shout was this time.

"Thanks for letting me know my boy, we will only call at (Y/n)'s number from now on."

"You have my gratitude..." he sighed before ending the call... staring at the device on his hand.

"K-Kai?" You went to poke his shoulder before yelping at when he smashed and destroyed his cellphone in one grip with a twitching eye. "You know you didn't had to do that, right?"

"I'm just tired of listening to this shit." He whispered, still with a twitching eye before relaxed a bit at your giggles and hugging his bare shoulders.

"Well, maybe we can get a bit more of peace at least." You whispered before planting a kiss right behind his ear and cheek.

"At least." He sighed, caging you on the bed and pointing you fervently "Come on angel, round 2 to distress." He growled on your lips as you giggled but accepted.

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha x reader #bnha characters #bnha villains x reader #bnha fanfics #bnha fanfiction #zuffer writings

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Sex on the Beach - c. 06 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: You return to the vacation house to pack up your stuff.

A/N: I wrote this in like...45 minutes 😂 The re-write is complete...now for the last two chapters.

Holiday in the Sun Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

The room they gave you at the resort was nice, overlooking the waterpark and the ocean, twenty stories above the ground. Not as crisp white as the Nassau House had been but not quite a Hilton. You called your dad after you checked in to tell him that you had an argument with your mom and that was why you had charged the room to your allowance card, something he was perfectly okay with because that meant you liked him more for the moment.

“Divorced parents are something else.” You commented, flipping through the room service menu. You were starving, in part from not eating for an entire day, and were happy to be getting something that wasn’t dictated by your mom. “My dad was like ‘do you need more money?’...he always wants to be the favorite.”

“Ask him if he can get us our stuff back.” Rafe joked, emerging from the bathroom with the pair of shorts you’d bought in the giftshop on, they were gray and had an Atlantis emblem on the one corner.

“Did you try to get a hold of Sarah?” You asked, scooting over in bed as he sat down next to you. His hair was still wet from the shower and when he pushed it out of his face little droplets of water hit your shoulder and cheek.

“Yeah, she said ‘get your shit yourself’...real fucking helpful.” He grumbled.

“I mean, your dad is a nightmare. If I was her, I don’t know if I’d want to risk having him flip out either. Especially since they’re stuck there for the rest of the week.” You replied.

“So what’s your plan?”

“Ask Wheezie when they’re going to be out and stop by to get our stuff?” You suggested, “I still have the spare key you told me to hang on to. We could just go in and get our things and leave.”

“No, no.” He stood up and you watched as he paced for a moment before seeming to come to some sort of decision, “I’m not fucking hiding out from him.”

“You can’t just walk in there Rafe, he’ll be pissed!” You pointed out, “I really don’t think you should cause any more trouble-”

“The boat was his!”

“I’m not saying it was your fault but maybe just don’t provoke him.” You replied, “who knows what he’ll do.”

Rafe was silent for a moment and you almost thought he was starting to calm down, maybe come around to your side of the issue and realize what it was that he would be jeopardizing if he went back to the Nassau house and tried to have it out with his father. But a second later you jumped as his fist slammed against the dresser and he stormed back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. You weren’t sure what to say, how to ease the situation or make Rafe anything but angry at his dad.

“I’m gonna go down to the cafe, do you want anything,” you called through the bathroom door. You waited a minute for Rafe to answer but there was only silence from the other side of the door. “Rafe?”

“I don’t want anything.” He snapped.

The door to the room swung shut behind you and you walked down the long hall to the elevators. There was a little mini lobby, a room with ice and vending machines, two benches and a wall of mirrors that reflected back your exhausted appearance. You sat down on one and pulled your phone out of your pocket, calling your mom.

“Where the hell are you?” She practically screeched through the phone and you rolled your eyes. Not the supportiveness that you were unrealistically hoping for but maybe you could mold her into someone half willing to understand.

“I’m at Atlantis with Rafe, I’m using dad’s allowance money for a room.”

“That’s just like your father, swooping in to “help” as if you’re in trouble.” She bitched.

“We need our stuff-”

“You are not staying with some boy unsupervised-”

You cut her off, “mom. We need our stuff,” you repeated, hoping that she would be more moldable to your cause. “Is there a time we could come get it?”

“Exactly what do you expect me to do? Pack up your things for you and have them waiting by the door? You are serious trouble young lady! You stole someone’s boat. And what’s more? You were rude and disrespectful and ungrateful to Mr. Cameron.” She complained.

“I’m not staying in that house for the rest of vacation, pretending everything is okay. And Rafe’s not coming back either. So can we get our stuff or not?” You asked.

“Being rebellious isn’t worth your future. You’re supposed to be thinking ahead. What about college?”

“That’s two years away.” You argued, “I already sent applications, I’ve applied for scholarships, nothing is changing about college. But I’m not spending the rest of my vacation in a house with a man who assaulted me!”

“Well maybe you can buy new stuff.” She replied, the line going dead immediately after. You listened to the click off and pulled your phone away from your ear to look at the home screen. She’d hung up on you, unsurprising but not the result you wanted.

You said you were going down to the cafe so you did, grabbing an iced coffee and heading back up to your room in hopes that Rafe had cooled down enough. When you reentered the room he was laying on the bed, sprawled on his stomach with his head turned toward the window. He didn’t move when you came in and you placed your coffee on the nightstand, climbing onto the bed and sitting cross-legged beside him.

“Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.” He grumbled.

“I think you got sunburn,” you mentioned, eyeing the harsher red of his shoulders, “or is that still from the shower.”

He didn’t answer, only pushed his face further into the pillow. You reached a hand out, laying it flat on the middle of his back. When he didn’t move, but also didn’t seem to protest, you leaned over kissing the red on his shoulders and beginning to gently rub his back.

“I called my mom.”

“You have shitty news delivery skills.” He replied, shifting over so he laying on his back. You followed his movement with your hand, your fingers brushing over his abs as they tensed beneath your touch.

“She basically said ‘screw you and your stuff’. So I guess you were right, we’ll have to go there.” You replied, “though I still think going while Ward is there might not be the best idea ever.”

“I just don’t even wanna think about all that shit tonight.” Rafe huffed.

“Oh well, I can totally help with that.”

It was earlier the next morning that Sarah texted saying that she and Topper could pack up your stuff and Rafe’s and drop it at the resort. A feasible and preferred plan to Rafe’s, going back in that house and provoking his dad would do nothing positive for their relationship or for the vacation. You knew Rafe was pissed and that he would likely stay pissed until he confronted his father but you urged him not to go to that Nassau house. Though your urging proved in vain because his promise to take you to dinner soon turned into a drive down the road to his family house, the two rentals in the driveway signaling that everyone was home.

“Rafe!” You practically hissed as you jumped out of the car, following him to the door, “what the fuck are you doing?”

The sentiment was repeated by Ward as the two of you entered the house, everyone sitting at the table for dinner looking up in shock at the sight of the two of you. You wanted to run back outside and drive away, or sink into the floor and disappear.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Getting my stuff.” Rafe replied, already heading for the hallway while you just waited by the door, frozen, “don’t mind me though, keep having your nice family dinner.”

Ward was quick. He made it around the table and put himself between Rafe and the hallway leading to your rooms, blocking his son from getting to them. You weren’t sure what to do. In favor of not making eye contact with your mom or step-dad you had locked eyes with Topper, who was mouthing a ‘what is he doing’ to you as if you were any more clued in to the situation than anyone else. Was this what you wanted? To be the supportive backbone for someone that you barely knew because you had been crushing on him since you were thirteen and he paid you just the slightest bit of attention on a vacation that would’ve otherwise been hell. What was your motivation? That you liked him...that he liked you and that was just everything you’d ever wanted so you desperately were following him around.

“Get out of my way!” Rafe’s voice pulled you back and you looked over at him and Ward.

“I don’t hear from you for two days, no idea where either of you are...we’re all worried sick, and this is how you treat us? Show up here and waltz in like nothing is wrong, demanding your things?” Ward snapped.

“I called my mom after we checked in...I’m sure she let everyone know where we were.” You replied, “not to mention, you sitting down to eat doesn’t look like you’re too broken up about any of this.”

“You ungrateful bitch-”

“Hey!” Rafe cut his dad off, shoving him just enough that Ward stumbled back. You felt your whole body tense. You needed to get out of this room and this house and, preferably, off this island. This was nuts, this wasn’t permanent. “Don’t talk to her.”

He pushed passed Ward, knocking his shoulder with his dad’s as he headed down the hall toward his bedroom. You knew that you should follow but your feet felt glued to the spot, like you weren’t sure how to make them work anymore. Sarah got up from the table without warning and disappeared down the hall, coming back a moment later with your duffel and suitcase.

“I already packed them yesterday.” She said, passing them to you.

“Thanks.”

Before Sarah could say anything else the shouting from Rafe’s room got louder. Worried, you left your bags by the door and headed into the hallway to see what was going on. Rafe was at the door of his room, completely red-faced, mid-screaming at Ward, louder now that you were standing there, and very much close to tears. Ward was shouting at the same time and even in the room you felt like you could barely make sense of what was being said. It was like walking into something that you had no right to witness.

“Rafe,” you weren’t sure he heard you over the screaming but you placed your hand on his back and it seemed to bring him back into reality as he looked back at you, breathing heavy and labored.

“I swear to god Rafe, you walk out that door and there isn’t a place for you at home.” Ward threatened.

He paused and you almost expected him to turn and apologize or call the whole thing off and decide to stay here. Miserable, sure, but at least he wouldn’t be homeless. But instead he grabbed his stuff and walked out the door passed you.

“Happy?” Ward asked, gaze meeting yours across the room. You heard Rafe call your name from the living room and you looked toward the sound before glancing back at Ward. If you lied, you were sure he could tell. So instead, you said nothing, grabbing your luggage and heading for the door.

You knew you should’ve been happy, in a way. Rafe was basically choosing you over his family and wasn’t that some kind of oddly romantic thing? Except all you felt was a pit in your stomach, eating up whatever feelings you had other than dread, leaving you feeling empty. He was walking away from his dad and his home and you weren’t even sure how you actually felt about him.

Wheezie followed both of you out to the car and you put your bags in while Rafe swore to her that nothing bad was going to happen. “Dad and I just need time to cool off,” he promised.

“But you said we would spend vacation together!” She insisted. He had promised her, before they even left the OBX.

“And we will. I’m not breaking that promise okay?” He hugged her and then walked around the car, getting in the driver’s seat.

You got in the car, trying to ignore the glare that she sent your way. Just when you were starting to gain favor with Wheezie you’d fucked it up again by taking her brother from her. You wanted to apologize and, honestly, you wanted to be in Provincetown with your friends. A nice, drama free vacation...not this mess.

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brelione · 4 years

Text

Kind Of A Cinderella Story (Sarah Cameron X Reader)

Request:37 from prompt list 2 with Sarah?+More Sara Cameron dating a Gardener pls

Warnings:This is trash and for some reason took me like three hours to write.Isnt proof read,implications of smut kind of.

Sarah was sick of her life.It was the same thing over and over again.She had to pretend to be this elegant,proper girl when all she wanted ot do was have fun.She felt like a puppet,being told what to wear and who to hang out with.She ahd been set up with countless kook boys that wanted nothing other than a girl to use as a sex object.She hated it.

Everyone thought that she was some perfect kook queen with no problems in her life but they couldnt be more wrong.People called her a whore for cheating on her boyfriends but all she wanted was to be loved.Like,genuinely loved for something other than her appearance.It was a process of trial and error.Ward would introduce her to one preppy kook boy with gelled back hair and toxic masculinity in a never ending cycle,hoping ot find the perfect fit.

Little did he know that she didnt want any kooks there was.She didnt even want any boys,no matter eif they were a pogue or a kook.Her heart was set on one pogue girl that didnt know how to match her pants to her shirt and had pierced her nose with a paperclip.She found her heart speeding up,trying not to smile or let out a nervous laugh whenever she saw said pogue even walk by.

You had always envied the kooks.While you worked at a bakery for 16 hours three days a week,living from pay check to pay check they were living it up in their huge mansions and getting their nails done with diamonds and gold.

You didnt even have a refrigerator or a microwave,you just kept what needed to be cold in a cooler that you had found on the side of the road two years ago.The bakery could only pay you so much so you decided that you might need another job.

It was either that or start stealing things.You chose the first option,unfortunately.Upon hearing that Ward Cameron was looking for someone to plant flowers and cut weeds in his garden you had volunteered for it.That’s what got you to this point,mud on your cheekbones,little scratches on your palms as you secured another bundle of impatiens into the soil.

The grass was still damp from the early morning rain,you were obviously tired and planning on going back to bed once you got back home.That was when the kook princess,Sarah Cameron,came running out of her house with a butter knife in her hand,demanding to know who you were and what you were doing in her backyard.You wiped your slightly bloody hands on your jeans,grinning.

“Im the gardener,Ward hired me last week.”You explained,smiling when a look of realisation came across the kook’s face,dropping the butter knife into the grass. “Oh-im so sorry!Im Sarah,they didnt tell me they hired you so I got scared.”She looked down at the butter knife,a blush coming across her cheeks.

After that first encounters she was desperate to speak to you again,having to wait a whole week until you came around to pull the weeds from the garden.She had considered stomping on the plants so you’d be forced to stay around longer but that would be pretty rude of her if she wanted to make a good impression.She had checked the weather,seeing that it was gonna be over 100 degrees.

That meant she had a perfect reason to speak to you without being strange.She’d come out after ten minutes of you being there and offer you a cold drink inside and when you were distracted with your drink she’d ask you questions about yourself and then boom.

You two would fall in love.It sounded like a great plan in her head.The night before the day you were due to come over she had set a blue gatorade in the fridge,preparing.But then she saw you out her window and became weak.Her legs were shaking as she took the gatorade out of the fridge,pacing around the kitchen with teh bottle in hand,taking in big breaths as she prepared herself.

With one last,deep breath she opened the back slider door,putting a smile on her face as she walked up behind you as you put long weeds into a bucket,your sleeves rolled up and sweat on your face. “Weather kind of sucks today,figured you needed a drink.”She licked her lips,wanting to redo.That just didnt sound right at all.You looked up at her,squinting from the sun that shined around her almost like a halo.

“Thanks,climate change is a real bitch.”You took the gatorade,opening it and taking a sip,some of the blue energy drink dripping down your chin. “Oh my god,I know.Don't even get me started on whats happening with the sharks in New England!The government is full of shit!”She exclaimed,not as nervous as she had been before.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah,just like our oceans!In twenty years there will be more plastic than fish,I hate this world so much.”You sighed,sitting in the grass as you took another sip of the cold drink. “Do you want to come inside and talk about this?We’ll both get sunburned if we stay out here too long.”her hands went to her pockets,something that always happened when she was anxious.

You shrugged,standing up. “Yeah,ok.”You replied,following her.You were hesitant to actually step inside the house,figuring one of the tiles was probably worth your whole paycheck.You sat awkwardly at the counter,drinking the gatorade until there was barely anything left.

She grabbed you a water bottle and offered you a sandwhicih.You said yes of course,thanking her when a ham and cheese sandwich on a blue plate was placed in front of you. “You know what else I hate?”You asked,taking a small bite off the corner of the sandwich.She hummed,looking up.

“How organizations protecting endangered species are being defunded by the government!It’s trash.”You sighed,becoming increasingly more angry.SHe nodded,agreeing. “Same with deforestation!If the government was taking away tv’s everyone would freak out but of course when they cut down our source of oxygen its fine!”She smacked her palms off the table.

“I say we poison them all with wolfsbane and give Mother Nature her shit back.”You wiped some mustard from your cheek,making her grin.Once you finished the sandwich you insisted on getting back to work,groaning when the sun hit your skin again.She had sat by the pool,telling you that you could go for a swim when you finished working if you wanted to.

You tugged dandelions from the garden,it was your last task of the day which meant that you got it done as quick as possible,placing them into the bucket when you got a good idea.You took them back out,forming the weeds into a crown of yellow,grinning at your creation before presenting it to Sarah. “Figured the queen needed a crown.”Was al you said,placing it on her head before flashing a peace sign and beginning your walk home.

Sarah waited another seven days to see you.The sun didnt shine so bright,her hair felt lifeless and her smile just couldnt look right.She felt herself falling for you,not even bothering to fight off the feelings.Tuesday night,the night before you would be coming over she prepped herself.She made a ham and cheese sandwich with mustard and lettuce,wrapping it up and putting it in her fridge along with a blue gatorade.

She practiced how to do a cute bun that she had seen on her pinterest feed,picking out an outfit that would make her look nice without being too over the top.She ended up showering at two in the morning,making sure she would smell nice and her hair wouldnt be greasy.She woke up with drool tunning down her chin,her alarm loud.She groaned,wiping her face and checking the time.

She had a text from her dad to let her know that he and Rose had taken Wheezie to the beach and Rafe was off doing whatever it was that Rafe does.She sat in her living room,staring out the window as she waited for you to appear and walk around her house into the backyard.She grinned when she saw you,light overalls and a rainbow striped shirt,deep tan work boots and a tired look on your face as you opened the gate in the fence,walking around to the backyard.

She let out a soft sigh as she wiped her hands on her shirt,making sure there were no wrinkles as she grabbed the sandwich from the fridge,tucking it under her arm and holding the gatorade in her hand,opening the slider door with the other.She closed it,the hot humid air hitting her in a huge contrast from the cold air conditioned house.

“Hey,Sar.”You grinned,noticing that there wasnt much work that need to be done today.She held out the wrapped up sandwich to you along with the drink,crossing her arms awkwardly. “Do you want to come inside?”She asked,peeling at her white nail polish.You licked your lips,standing up and brushing off your pants before picking up the gatorade and sandwich,sitting at the kitchen table and eating. “So like,can I ask you a question?”She asked,leaning her elbows on the table.

You raised an eyebrow at her,swallowing the sandwich that you had in your mouth with a swig of gatorade. “I hate when people ask that.Are you gonna ask if I murdered someone cause the answer is no.”You said quickly,trying not to let your brain run wild.

You hadnt done anything wrong.Maybe you fucked up the order fo the flowers? “Oh,oh cool.But um….Like,what would you do if I accidentally kissed you?”She asked,making your eyes widen.Her heart beat only got quicker as the monet of silence lasted longer,a tension growing between the two of you.

“I dont know...thats never happened before.”You answered,avoiding her eyes.She blushed,leaning down quick and pecking your lips,pulling away just as quick. “Love that.”You answered,biting your lip lightly,trying not to laugh.

“Love you.”She answered,her face beet red.You smiled,looking up at her. “Love you too.”You answered,hearing the door open a few seconds later,Wheezie walking in,her skin slightly more tanned than it had been when she left. “Uhh...hi?”She frowned,looking at you but deciding not to question it before going up the stairs and into her room.

Ward and Rose came in soon after her,the same look on their faces. “Arent you the gardener?”Rose asked,coming into the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of wine. “She’s done with her work for the day.”Sarah answered quickly,looking over to Ward.

He didnt say anything,feeling that there was something going on between the two of you but deciding to stay quiet.You and Sarah had been dating in somewhat secrecy for a month and you no longer came over on just Wednesday’s to pull weeds.You came over pretty much everyday,going swimming or going to the beach with your lovely girlfriend.

You laid on your stomach on her bed,head on one of her many pillows,the show Lucifer playing on her large tv. “We should do something.”She spoke confidently,a mischevious grin on her face.You sighed,sitting up. “Like what?”You asked,knowing that she would probably suggest something ridiculous.

She smirked,grabbing her purse. “We’re gonna go shopping.”It wasnt even a question,just a straight out statement.You shook your head,going back to laying down when she grabbed at your ankles,trying to drag you off the bed. “Please?”She pouted,trying to get you to crack.

You simply rolled your eyes,reminding her that you didnt have the money for that type of thing.She sighed,grabbing your hands and pulling you up but you refused to go down without a fight,purposely pushing her backwards by wrapping your arms around her like a toddler.

“No.”You muttered,your nose in her blonde hair.You stared ahead of you,passing by trees and large houses,getting to the rich kook side of the island near the shopping boutiques and gold clubs. “I hate you.”You sighed as she pulled into a shop parking lot,a grin on her face. “I love you too.”She answered,opening the car door for you and making you get out.

“What if I buy you icecream after?”She asked,trying to get you to be less miserable,succeeding when your face lit up. “Like the fancy kind in a dipped waffle cone with the sprinkles?”You asked,willing to try on clothes if it meant getting to the sweet cold treat.

She nodded,complying with your request,holding your hand and bringing you inside.It didnt feel right for you to be here,even the lights looked expensive.There werent even carts,fabric bags instead.Thats how you could tell just how expensive everything here would be. “Sarah,this is ridiculous.”You mumbled as she dragged you over to some t shirts that had stripes but even they looked expensive,the material thick and durable between your fingers.

You gripped the price tag,eyes widening. “This shit is $130!”You exclaimed,letting go of it.She smiled,shaking her head. “Suck it up,buttercup.”Was all she had to say,finding your size and placing it into the fabric bag when a worker came up to the two of you. “Can I help you ladies?”He asked.You answered a wuick no but was overpowered by Sarah. “Yes,yes please.

Im thinking a whole new vibe for her,maybe like eighties meets surfing.”She tried to explain her ideas,somehow the sentence made sense in the man’s head as he guided the two of you through the store,showing you both sundresses,ripped jeans,pastel collared shirts,headbands and earrings.

He watched from a far as Sarah held up the clothing next to your body,holding others near your hair as she tried to decide on what she wanted you to try on.She decided a light yellow shirt,some light washed jeans,a pair of shorts that were dark blue with gold stars,a purple sweatshirt with the word ‘lovely’ on it,a set of cream colored underwear with a matching bra,a gold headband with flowers on it,a pair of boyfriend jeans,or as she called them,girlfriend jeans.

You didnt even give an opinion on any of the clothes she was putting into the bag,thinking about what kind of icecream you were going to get,snapping out of your thoughts when she told you to start trying things on.

She had requested that you took mirror pictures in everything you tried on and asked that you send them to her as she went to the jewelry counter,supposedly getting a spot on her gold necklace fixed.You took your time trying on clothes,trying not to become to insecure about it.

You took the photos quickly,plowing your way through the outfits,getting to the set of bra and panties.You slid on the underwear over the ones you were already wearing,seeing the sign on the dressing room wall that said not to try on undergarments on your bare body.You simply pulled on the bra over your breasts,not seeing a policy for that.

The fabric was soft and the bra held up your breasts perfectly,the cream colored lace straps tickling your skin.You snapped a few photos in the set,feeling a bit of heat rush to your face when the door opened,Sarah sticking her head in. “Are you checking yourself out?”She asked,a smirk on her face.You placed your hands over your face,laughing.

“Shut up.”You answered,letting her see what you looked like in the set.She did indeed shut up,biting her lip as she looked you up and down. “Yeah,we’re buying that.”She nodded,asking to see the photos and closing the door behind her.You scrolled through the photos,her head on your shoulder and kissing it lightly as she looked at them,nodding.

“Ooh that sweater is cute as hell.”She took the phone,zooming in. “So lets go look at some bathing suits and maybe get you some more bras...and then we can leave.”She grinned,gulping as she tried not to let her thoughts get the best of her.

You changed back into your normal paper thin striped shirt,shitty bra and overalls,putting the clothes back into the bag and walking back out,seeing her sitting in the chair with a grin on her face as if she knew something you didnt. “Look at how cute this bikini is!Your boobs would look good-we’re getting it.”She said quickly,putting a white one piece into the bag.

“Sarah-this is gonna cost like,a million dollars.”You grumbled,not really approving what your girlfriend was doing.She rolled her eyes,not worrying about it as she grabbed an ash colored bralette and underwear set,finally done picking clothes for you,dragging you to the counter to pay.You werent paying attention to anything the cashier was saying,only watching the total go up until it hit the point of $830.

What the actual fuck?Sarah simply swiped her card,taking the white and gold paper bag with a grin,pulling you along as you tried to get over the fact that she had just payed so much so carelessly.You two ended up back in the car,the bag in the backseat as you were still struggling to wrap your head around it.

“You okay?”She asked,noticing the look on your face. “You just spent an entire month of bills on clothes.”You whispered,making a smile come across her face. “That’s okay.”She answered,backing out of the parking lot and making her way to the icecream shop.

“Do you want to go to the beach to eat our icecream or do you want to go back to the house and model for me?”She asked,hoping you’d pick the second option.You shrugged,not really caring as long as you got your icecream. “yeah,you’re modeling for me.”She decided for you,turning on the radio. “Yeah?”You asked.

She hummed in response.The drive was quiet,your chin on your palm,the cool air of the air conditioning on your skin and the hot of the sun on your arm. “I feel like Cinderella right now.”You admitted,making the blonde laugh. “What do you mean by that?”She asked,curious.

You shrugged,turning down the radio. “I mean,you’re my beautiful fairy goddess and you just bought me some kook clothes and i’m used to cooking for people and pulling weed from rich people’s gardens...its like im becoming one of you.”You mumbled,her hand squeezing your thigh.

“You say it like we’re vampires, (Y/N).”She shook her head,pulling up to the icecream parlor,getting out of the car.You both walked up to the metal counter,looking at the menu.She got the same thing everytime.A medium cotton candy scoop in a chocolate sprinkled cone with whipped cream.

It was colorful and over the top,just like her.You decided on a rainbow milkshake which was layers of cotton candy icecream,strawberry,black raspberry,orange creamsicle and lemon all in one cup topped with whipped cream.

After getting your icecream you two went right back to the car,Sarah playing Lucifer on her phone and placing it between the two of you as she struggled to eat her icrecream quick enough so it wouldnt fall off or melt.She rested her icecream cone in the cupholder,driving back to the house,running up to her room with you close behind her,the white and gold bag tucked under her arm.

She ate the cone,getting to the end of it when she asked you to try on the bathing suit.You rolled your eyes,stripping of your overalls and t shirt,earning a quiet whistle from her.You sent her a quick wink,pulling the bathing suit up your body,pushing your arms through,your cleavage showing.

“Yeah,I was right.Your boobs look great.”She grinned,opening her drawers and picking out her pink bathing suit,changing into it right in front of you. “Lets go out to the pool.”She suggested,grabbing two towels from her drawer.The two of you sat in the cool water,the sun making it hard to look at. “I’ve got to get back to the house soon.”You mumbled,floating on your back.

She frowned,standing up in the shallow water. “Why?Cant you just sleep over?”She asked,not wanting you to go.You shook your head,figuring that it wouldnt be wise to spend another night. “I cant let the place get messy.”You answered,wringing out your hair.She pouted,understanding.

“You have to leave now?”She asked.You shrugged,sitting on the steps. “Probably soon,i’ve got to check the mail too.”You replied,stepping onto the hot concrete.She sighed,lifting herself out of the water and offering you a ride home.

You said yes,giving her a quick kiss before leaving the car,your backpack clinging to your shoulders,the store bag in hand. “I love you.”She grinned as you closed the car door. “Love you too,pretty girl.”You replied before going inside your small house.It was hot,dust on the counters and cabinets.

The coolers ice had melted,leaving cans of sprite to float in the water that was left.You sighed,going into your room and letting your backpack fall onto your mattress that stayed on the floor.You took the clothes from the store bag,putting them on hangers and letting them hang in your closet,far away from the one other pair of overalls you owned.You grinned at the splash of color in your dull home,ending up falling asleep on your stomach on top of your mattress,face in the blankets you had collected over the years.

Sarah looked in the mirror at her tube top that was covering a honey colored bralette that you liked so much,a pair of white jeans over matching yellow panties that you liked so much.

She tied her hair into a messy bun,letting out a soft sigh,grabbing her keys and getting ready to surprise you at your house.It had only been a few hours but she already missed you.She jogged down the stairs quick,close to leaving when Rose interferred.

“Where are you going?”She asked,looking at the outfit.Sarah cursed in her head,turning to look at her step mother. “Out.”She replied,not in the mood for her bullshit.Rose crossed her arms,a knowing smirk on her face. “Out where?”She pushed,acting like an annoying fifth grader.Sarah completely understood where Wheezie got it,Rose equally as annoying as the thirteen year old.

“Out on a date.”Sarah answered,glaring.Rose’s eyebrows furrowed,surprised. “Yeah?”She asked,raising an eyebrow.Sarah nodded. “Yeah.”She repeated,hand on the door knob. “With who?”Rose asked,really testing Sarah’s patience.

“With someone im interested in.”Sarah replied,venom dripping from her voice. “Hes got a job?”Rose asked.Sarah nodded. “Yeah.”She answered,sick of this interrogation. “What does he do?”Rose asked.Sarah rolled her eyes,nearly laughing at how clueless she was.

“Gardening.”Sarah replied,squeezing the door knob tightly.Rose frowned,a sympathetic smile on her face. “Sarah,he’s probably gay.”She whispered.Sarah chuckled,opening the door. “Yeah,she is.”Sarah answered,slamming the door behind her.

When she showed up to your house she let out an anxious sigh,standing at your door.She had never actually been inside before,knocking gently.Of course you couldnt hear her in your sleep though.She opened the door,frowning at the built up dust and lack of color.

She found your room easily,the one room that had a door.She knocked on it,not hearing anything and growing concerned,opening it quickly.She calmed down when she saw you asleep on your matress,hair messy.She smiled,taking a photo and sitting down on the mattress next to you.Your eyes fluttered open,squinting up at her. “Hi.”She smiled down at you.

You sat up,confused.The sun was nearly completely down,teh sky pink and purple. “Sarah?”You asked.She nodded,a grin on her face. “What are you doing here?”You asked,not really understanding why she was in your house or why she would want to be in your house.

It was messy and small and you hadnt been ready for her to see it yet.She shrugged,laying down with you. “I dont know,I missed you.”She shrugged,arms around your waist and head on your chest.You smiled,kissing her head. “I didnt end up cleaning,got tired I guess.”You replied,enjoying the warmth of her body.

She pouted,sitting up straight. “Its hot in here.”She mumbled,making you frown. “I mean yeah,I dont have air conditioning so-”You stopped talking when she peeled off her shirt and shorts,leaving her in one of your favorite sets that she owned.You nodded,agreeing. “Yeah,it is hot in here.”You agreed.

@outerbongs @copper-boom @httpstarkey @teenwaywardasgardian @drewswannabegirl @simonsbluee @jiaraendgame @khiaraaa-in-spacee @on-socks-off @poguestyleskye @jjtheangel @dannii-li @lovelyelinor

If you’d like to be tagged in all future JJ imagines/headcannons/series comment with a heart,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Pope imagines/headcannons/series comment with a smiling face,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Rafe imagines/headcannons/series comment with a frowning face,if you’d like to be tagged in all future Kiara imagines/headcannons/series comment with a question mark and if you’d like to be tagged in all future Sarah Cameron imagines/headcannons/series comment with a plus sign.If you’d like to be tagged in all Kelce content coment with a “>” and if youd like to be tagged in all Topper content comment with a “%”.Or if thats too complicated you can just comment whose name you’d like to be tagged in.

#sarah cameron #sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron imagine #sarah cameron x you #obx sarah #sarah cameron headcannon #sarah cameron smut #sarah cameron fluff #madelyn cline #outerbanks

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exhaustedfander · 4 years

Text

Goddamn These Bite Marks, Deep in My Arteries

word count: 2,828

a03 link

Vampire!Logan in Analogical is something I’m so weak for, thusly, this oneshot exists.

Virgil paces the floor, anxiety clouding every jumbled thought. He’s been working himself up for weeks now, trying to find the best moment to brooch the subject. There were so many moments where things almost felt perfect, but then his nerves would kick in, or Logan would say something to completely change the subject.

Eventually, Virgil comes to the uncomfortable conclusion that no matter how much he wishes it worked otherwise they’ll never be a perfect time to say it. He’s just going to have to bite the bullet and spit it out. He can do that. Of course, he can do that…, right?

He has to do this, regardless of how terrified he is. And good lord, is he terrified.

It’s not as though Virgil thought this subject would never need to come up but dating a vampire doesn’t exactly come with an instruction pamphlet. He had no idea that he was going to meet Logan, like him more than he’s ever liked another person, and eventually fall so deeply in love that he can’t imagine himself with anyone else.

He’d gone into their relationship five years ago with very few expectations. Logan was cute, and he understood him, and they’d already been friends for some time and… and he was a vampire. Virgil supposes that would’ve been a deal-breaker for most people. Maybe it should’ve been for him too. Maybe it was the most logical way of thinking. But he couldn’t help it; he fell for Logan almost from the start, and he couldn’t stop if he tried.

Virgil’s learned a lot about vampirism in the last five years. For one thing, movies are usually a bunch of bullshit (Sexy, fun bullshit. But bullshit, nonetheless). Vampires don’t always have to drink human blood, though it is preferable, and they can eat some other foods, though it offers far less nutritional value than it would for humans. They aren’t strictly nocturnal, and the sunlight will not turn them to a pile of ashes the moment it makes contact with their skin (although Logan does get a wicked sunburn if he’s out too long without proper covering). Garlic does very little to ward off vampires, but garlic-breath does, unfortunately, ward off kisses.

Having one’s blood sucked isn’t nearly as painful as it’s often portrayed, nor as orgasmic. It’s just kind of… nice. Virgil’s always thought of it as a feeling of weightlessness, a kind of peace that’s hard to name, and even harder to find anyplace else. Honestly, he’s going to miss the feeling, if Logan agrees, that is.

Logan isn’t home yet, but it isn’t uncommon for him to stay late at the lab. Virgil’s glad that Logan’s been able to find a profession that he’s happy in. He knows that Logan would be far more known in his field, were it not for the fact that he cannot stay forever. Vampires do not live forever, contrary to popular belief, but they do live for a very long time, and it looks quite suspicious if one works a job for decades and never really seems to age. Logan’s only been alive for about twenty more years than Virgil has, but he’s had several other jobs under other last names in the past, and this is by far the one he’s enjoyed the most.

His boyfriend is such a smart, competent scientist and he’s sure he’d be world-famous by now if he didn’t hold himself back at times in fear of his name and face becoming known. That would make running away and changing one’s identity all the more difficult.

Virgil knows this conversation won’t be an easy one. Logan has pointedly avoided the topic for some time. It’s not as though Virgil doesn’t know that this is a life-altering decision; or more of a life-ending decision, depending on how you look at it. He’s weighed the pros and cons time and time again, but in the end, he always comes to the same conclusion: Virgil wants this.

His determination doesn’t make him any less nervous when he hears the door to their apartment open as Logan unlocks it, his heart leaping in his chest.

“Hey. Sorry, I know I stayed late,” Logan says as he slips off his shoes and jacket, his voice thick with exhaustion, “It’s been a hell of a day.”

“It’s okay. Sorry you had a shitty day,” Virgil says, walking to the doorway and pulling him in for a kiss, but pulling away after a lack of response, “Hey, are you good?”

Logan doesn’t look good. His skin is always quite pale (a stereotype that holds up, but he also works in a lab most of the day), but it’s even more so now. The always-present bags under his eyes are far more severe than usual, rivaling the eye-shadow Virgil wears. Logan looks dead-tired, and god, that won’t do, will it?

“I’m…” Logan sways slightly where he stands, up-righted by Virgil, “…fine.”

“Bullshit,” Virgil says, eyeing him carefully, “When was the last time you had something to eat?”

“I’m – it hasn’t been too long,” Logan says, lying rather poorly, “Really, I’m okay. Just tired.”

“Alright. C’mere, you,” Virgil says assertively, grabbing Logan by the wrist and bringing him to the couch.

“Virgil, darling, this isn’t necessary. Besides, I’ve got a bit of research to do for…” Logan trails off, seeing the look of agitation on his boyfriend’s face.

“Nope. Absolutely not. You’re not bringing work home, and, you’re not skipping another meal. God, I haven’t even been paying attention lately; you’ve just been so busy lately. When was the last time you ate?”

“I…”

“Babe. This is serious. You need to tell me when you need something. And right now, you need to eat,” Virgil said, slipping off his hoodie and pulling at the collar of his T-shirt. “You look like you’re starving, L.”

“Virgil. We don’t need to do this right now. I just came home, I’m perfectly content with simply spending the evening with you. I promise I’ll be fine. There’s no need to fuss.”

“There’s a perfectly good reason to fuss,” Virgil huffs out, “You’re being so fucking stubborn for no reason. Besides, there’s... well, there’s kind of something I want to talk to you about.” Logan raises a quizzical eyebrow.

“Is anything the matter?” Logan asks, trying, and failing, to mask the quickly formed concern.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Virgil swears, “Now, c’mon, the quicker you sink your fangs in, the quicker I can satiate your curiosity.”

Logan sighs, defeated, but tired and very hungry.

“Fine.”

He gets up from the couch, going into the bathroom, and coming out with a first aid kit. Virgil’s always insisted that it’s okay and that he doesn’t need to go to all the trouble. For the most part, the bites stop bleeding almost immediately after he’s done feeding, but Logan has none of it.

“You’re the one who’s taking care of me. Please. Let me take care of you, too.”

It’s little rituals like this, pressing a bandage and a kiss to the wound when he’s finished that keeps Logan from feeling like a monster. That’s what he confessed to Virgil one night, years ago. That he felt like a monster sometimes.

Virgil’s always been clear to dispute this. Logan’s never killed, anyone. He’s never been unnecessarily cruel to anyone, and he’s always, always been so good to Virgil. His need to feed is not that of a monster, and Virgil’s assured him as much anytime he felt otherwise.

But that can’t stop doubt from creeping in, and Virgil understands that. So he lets Logan do things at his pace for the most part, and he lets him take care of him to his heart’s content (Virgil truly isn’t complaining about that. It’s nice, how eager Logan is to care for him).

“Are you alright? Are you comfortable?” Logan asks, just as he always does.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” Virgil assures. Logan nods, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He’s starving, Virgil knows he is. “Go on, baby. It’s okay.”

Logan nods, first kissing Virgil vehemently.

“I love you,” Logan whispers reverently against Virgil’s lips, his fangs brushing just so.

“I love you too.”

Logan pulls away, his eyes meeting Virgil’s, and ah, there it is. His boyfriend’s eyes turn from their usual-blue to a striking crimson, the change in color happening in a manner of seconds, like watching a drop of blood cloud a glass of water. It isn’t hypnotism, per se. Virgil isn’t under Logan’s ever-command, but his gaze certainly sends a sense of calm washing over him. Logan cups Virgil’s face for a moment, still looking at him intensely and lovingly all at once before he presses his lips to Virgil’s neck and sinks his fangs in.

The initial pinprick of pain has always made Virgil shudder a little, even now, but he’s far more prepared for it than he had been in the past. Quickly, though, the pain subsides to something stranger, more far-off. His back presses into the couch as Logan has a hand on either side of his neck, sucking and lapping the blood, Virgil lingering in the bliss.

When he’s finished, Logan removes his fangs, mouth only slightly bloodied.

“Thank you,” he says, whipping his lip and quickly reaching for the first aid kit on the coffee table.

“You’re welcome, Lo,” Virgil says, still a little lost in the feeling. He smiles faintly as a bandage is pressed to his neck. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” Logan says, his exhaustion seeming to have faded significantly. “I dare say you were right, I needed that more than I was aware. How about you? Are you alright, my love?” Virgil can’t help but smile dopily at that.

“I’m fine. Great. I love it when you call me that, you know that?” Logan chuckles, his eyes back to their normal blue, and fangs having receded.

“I do. Now, let me go get you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to,” Virgil says, only slightly light-headed, “I already had dinner.” Logan’s already on his feet.

“Now, I’ll have none of that,” he tuts, sounding as insistent as Virgil had moments prior, “You just gave blood – so to speak. It’s important to rehydrate and eat something rich in sugar to replenish your red blood cells.” Logan’s rummaging in the cupboard, looking for a snack.

It’s now or never, Virgil thinks to himself suddenly, realizing that if he doesn’t say something right this minute, he’s going to chicken out for the night and have to work himself up again later.

“Hey L?”

“Yes?”

“I…” God, this is harder than it should be! “I want…”

"What would you like? We have crackers, cookies –.”

“I want you to turn to me!” Virgil shudders at the sound of something clattering the floor in the kitchen. He turns around on the sofa, seeing the look of terror in his lover’s eyes.

“Dear Lord, did I take too much blood? Virgil, do you feel faint?” Logan asks, suddenly hovering over him, his eyes scanning over him.

“What? No – no, I’m fine. My head’s super clear. I’m being serious: I want you to turn me.”

“You… you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course I do!” Virgil says, zealousness bubbling with each word. He looks into Logan’s eyes, searching desperately for something, anything, that will further his argument. “Logan. Babe. I love you so, so much. I’m crazy about you, and I can’t see myself stopping anytime soon.” Logan swallows, the sound scared and tight.

“I- I love you, too. Virgil you know I love you, but –.”

“But what? You mean absolutely everything to me, and – and I can’t lose you. I want to keep being with you. Don’t you want to keep being with me?”

Virgil hates how desperate he sounds. A fear suddenly creeps into his mind, one he hadn’t yet considered: what if Logan doesn’t want this. He loves him now, but will he ten years from now? Twenty? A hundred? What if he hasn’t imagined a life with Virgil at all? What if he’s nothing more than a momentary distraction? What if –

A cold hand settles on top of his, their fingers lacing together.

“Yes,” says Logan, his voice tight and quiet, “I want to keep being with you. I adore being with you, dear. And I intend to do so for as long as I’m able.”

“But how long is that?” Virgil asks, the fear holding him in a death-grip, “How long until you need to leave this town and change your name?”

“I –.”

“I want to come with you when you go.”

“Virgil, you know how I feel about this subject.”

“No, I fucking don’t!” Virgil says, voice gaining in volume, hand still intertwined with Logan’s, grip tightening, “Because you never want to talk about it! Any time I’ve brought it up in the past you’ve just brushed it aside. Well, guess what? I’m not letting you do that right now. Why can’t you talk about it? What’re you so scared of?” Logan lets out a sigh, long and filled with frustration.

“Virgil… do you realize what you’re asking of me?” Virgil huffs out a breath, nodding.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Do you really? Do you understand how much you’d be asking me to take from you? You’re asking me to take your life away.”

“I want you, Logan. That’s all I want.”

“You’d need to go with me when I left town. We’d both need to change our identities often, to change occupations. We couldn’t let people grow suspicious.”

“I know.”

“And we’d both need to,” Logan squeezes his eyes shut, cringing at the word, “…hunt. Be it human or animal, I could not rely on you anymore, and you could not rely on me.”

“I know that too. I’ve already thought this all through, Logan. I mean it.”

“You could live such a different life, Virgil. There are so many possibilities that would disappear the moment I… if you were to regret this, there would be no going back. No reversing it.”

“What’ve you been planning for the future then, Logan. Were you just going to disappear one day?”

“I – well. This was your apartment before it was ours. I was considering –.”

“Leaving me,” Virgil finishes, and goddamn it, there are tears in his eyes.

“Sparing you,” Logan counters, “Of a very long existence with me.”

“Don’t you get it, Lo?” Virgil asks, letting go of Logan’s hand, his eyes landing on the floor. “I’ve thought through all of these variables a hundred times. You’re the best part of my life. Most of your friends are my friends too. And, newsflash, they’re vampires, too. I know that it’s a huge decision, a-and that it’s scary. I know it’s a lot. B-but I’ve never been as sure of something as I am about this. Never.”

Logan frowns, his thumb swiping over Virgil’s falling tears.

“You’re… you’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” It hurts Virgil, how unworthy of this Logan clearly feels. He'll have a lifetime of proving him otherwise, and a long one at that.

“Of course I am,” Virgil sniffles. “I’ve been thinking about it forever I just – I didn’t know how to say it.”

“The thought of having to leave you has haunted me so much these last few years,” Logan admits after a moment of tense quiet, “I didn’t know how I was going to bring myself to do it. And, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t ask you to do this. I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Well, you don’t have to,” Virgil says firmly, hope flickering in his chest, “Because I’m asking you.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” Logan takes a shuddery breath, “You’re… you’re sure I’m what you want?”

“More than anything,” Virgil promises, grabbing hold of both of Logan’s hands.

“Okay,” Logan says after a long, agonizing moment. “I’ll give you a few days, to get anything in order that you feel you need to. And it’ll be just a little more time to back out if you so choose to.” Virgil nods quickly.

“I won’t need it, but okay. But, Logan, baby, do you really mean it?”

“If this is what you’re comfortable with, and it’s what you want then… yes. Yes, I want this too.”

Logan suddenly finds himself with a lapful of Virgil, a pair of lips enthusiastically pressed to his.

“I love you, Logan. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Logan says, a weight he wasn’t even aware of suddenly lifted from his shoulders.

The couple basks in the feeling, their shared enthusiasm and fulfilled desires, thinking of a long future together. Logan’s still scared and can’t be sure when or if those fears will ever entirely subside. But he didn’t need to ask this of Virgil; Virgil asked him. They know they can be together, and tonight, that’s more than enough.

=+=

General Taglist:

@nadiestar

@unoriginalgayboyalex

@bella-in-a-bag

@igonnatalknothing

@elizabutgayer

@wishthefish916

@reptilianwithscallions

@justmeandmygayships

@arodynamic-enby

#analogical #romantic analogical #sanders sides #ts #human au #vampire!Logan #angst/fluff #fluff #angst #slight mention of blood sucking #it's quite brief tho #happy ending #Logan sanders #virgil sanders #exhaustedfander writes #exhaustedfander #the title is a reference to a mountain goats song

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riverfxle · 3 years

Text

We’re Only Sixteen | John B x Sibling!Reader

INCLUDES SPOILERS

Description- In which John B’s twin sister tries to convince him to give up the treasure hunt.

Warnings - mentions of death, cursing, mentions of panic attacks, angsty as hell.

A/N - I finished OBX2 and I just wanted to write something so this was created. I feel like John B really needs someone to tell him that all this shit is not worth it. Hope you enjoy!

THE POGUES WERE FINALLY HAPPY. Their best friends were back and alive, not rotting in the bottom of the ocean like they had believed for the past couple of months. Y/N Routledge felt whole again and the painful feeling in her chest seemed to disappear the moment her eyes caught her twins, who seemed to be pushing back tears at the sight of her and his best friends. It didn’t last for long as in a matter of seconds they were running from another person trying to kill them. Y/N could feel anger bubbling up in her chest as she turned around, tired of people trying to hurt her friends, and sent a swift but powerful kick to the guys face making him fall back and roll across the street in pain as the Pogues made their escape. She could barley hear the sound of her friends celebrating as she could hear her own blood rushing in her ears.

“I’m so sick of this bullshit,”She mumbled, pasting on a fake smile as Kie turned to look at her. It’s not that she wasn’t happy to be reunited with John B but the fact they couldn’t say one word before they were flung back into another near death experience, she was sick of running. She wished they could go back to being normal teenagers again. But she knew that John B had his eyes on the gold, that’s all that really mattered to him. “I’m so happy they’re back and alive!”She said a bit louder, covering what she had said previously. She held Sarah’s hand with a real smile when she held it out to her.

They returned to the Chateau and Y/N immediately went inside to retrieve some beers, mostly because she needed a moment alone to process everything that had happened in the three hours. John B and Sarah had told them everything on the way back home and Y/N felt the sinking feeling in her chest return as Sarah told them about John B leaving in the middle of the night to break into the island home and finding the gold. Then also everything that happened after that.

John B wasn’t selfish by any means, only overly selfless. He wanted to find the gold for them. For all of them. But at this point Y/N would rather have her brother alive than going full Kook.

“You good, Y/N?”His voice startled her making her drop the beer bottle she was holding, she cursed and dropped down to clean it up. “Shit. Let me help you’re going to cut yourself.”John B said kneeling down beside his sister who frantically tried to scoop up the glass, ultimately cutting herself but ignored the pain as she finished cleaning up the glass.

“You got yourself good,”He commented grabbing her hand to inspect the cut. She snatched her hand away from him before wrapping it with a dish rag she found on the counter. “Y/N. Is there something wrong? You seem different.”John B looked at her with concern in his eyes and she wanted to scoff.

“I don’t know maybe because I thought my only family was dead? Or maybe the fact that my twin brother keeps putting himself in these situations that are going to kill him?”She finally said. Her heart was racing and she felt anger fill her body again as he started to laugh. How fucking dare he.

“There it is.”He said once he stopped laughing, the smile never leaving his face. She wanted to punch him but she held herself back. “Everything is fine, Y/N. Look I’m still alive.”He motioned to himself.

“Barely,”She scoffed. “You seem to not understand that this dumb luck you have is eventually going to run out. You’re going to end up dead for real.”She sighed leaning against the counter. “I don’t want to mourn you again until we’re eighty years old and you die from choking on a pudding cup in some random nursing home. We’re sixteen years old! We should be partying at the boneyard with our friends and going to school and surfing everyday until we pass out on the beach. I want to wake to a sunburn, John B, not bullet holes.”

He sighed. “We’re not going to, Y/N. We can do all of that and more once we get the gold back.”

“I don’t care about the fucking gold!”She shouted, loosing her temper finally. “I’m over it! You almost died over this stupid fucking treasure hunt. Ward is never going to give up and he has made it very clear that he doesn’t care who dies so he can get what he wants!”She felt tears in her eyes but pushed them down. This wasn’t the time to cry. She had to make sure her point got across.

“This is all dad has every worked fo—”

“Shut the fuck up, John B. I’m so sick and tired of hearing this. Dad searched for the gold, he found it and look where he ended up. I don’t see him around here anywhere, do you? No! Because Ward killed him once he got what he wanted. You know how many times I needed Dad and he was too busy in his office searching for the Royal Merchant. Too many to count! I always turned to you. You were the only family I had then and the only family I have now. I don’t want to see you end up like him! I don’t want you to throw your life away like he did!”

John B sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair. He knew Y/N would eventually blow up about all of this. He understood her but if all of this had taught him anything it was that he could always ask for forgiveness later. He loved his sister more than anything on this island but he wanted a better life for her, where they didn’t have to worry about where their next meal was coming from or if they would have enough money to buy clothes. He hated that she had to sew patches on their t-shirts to cover holes, that they had to steal food from the grocery store on a daily basis.

“I’m going to get what’s rightfully ours.”He said after a moment, swallowing thickly as he watched her face fall. He flinched as she threw a beer bottle across the kitchen, letting it shatter against the wall as sobs left her mouth. He watched as she slid down the counter before crumbling onto the floor.

Y/N felt defeated. She hid her face in her knees as her arms wrapped around her legs tightly. She knew she was on the brink of a panic attack, they started to come more often after the storm.

“We’re only sixteen, bird.”Her voice cracked as she looked up at him, her eyes were red and puffy and John B felt his heart clench at the sight of her.

“I know and I’m sorry.”

With that he left the kitchen, trying to tune out her sobs that seemed to echo through the house. He felt his own tears well up in his eyes as he rushed past the rest of the Pogues, brushing off their questions.

#outer banks #obx #john b routledge #john b obx #outer banks imagine

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 10: The Beach

"Don't even think about it, Potter," Draco warned, taking half a dozen steps back and holding out his hands to ward off his menace of a husband. (Yes, husband. They'd gotten married the day before and Draco was still basically in a state of shock.)

Harry pouted at him, "But-"

"No," he repeated. "You are soaked and you're covered in sand."

Harry pushed his wet curls back off his face and gave him that grin, the one that turned Draco's will into complete mush. "Come on," he cajoled. "Come have a swim with me."

Draco ignored him and opened his bag, pulling out a beach chair, then a massive umbrella, followed by a novel, and then a travel mug margarita. "I told you when you begged to go to the beach for our honeymoon," he said as he set up his chair and stuck the umbrella into the sand, "Malfoys burn in the sun. Not all of us can have gorgeous bronze complexions like gods," he grumbled.

Harry stepped toward him and Draco held out his hand, making a little force field wandlessly.

"You are not allowed to touch me when you're all wet," he repeated with a shake of his head.

"One kiss," Harry wheedled. "I'll keep my hands behind my back," he said, demonstrating the action, "and the only part of my body to touch yours will be my lips."

Draco rolled his eyes but his whole body warmed pleasantly at the thought of Harry's lips on his like he'd just taken a shot of fire whiskey. "Fine," he replied with a put upon sigh that Harry saw right through. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Harry's.

(More below the cut)

After a second, Draco gave in and cupped Harry's face, pressing their bodies together from chest to thigh. He couldn't help himself.

He pulled back minutely, "Hold me, you brat," he said, before leaning in to kiss Harry again.

Harry huffed a laugh against his lips before wrapping Draco tight in his arms and holding him close. And Draco loved this, loved being held in Harry's (his husband's!) arms, loved feeling weightless and free, knowing that he had made his life his own.

"Godric, I love you," Harry sighed against the tender spot just to the left of Draco's mouth, the bristles of his beard rasping against Draco's sensitive skin.

"I love you, too," Draco replied. "Even if you did just get me all wet and sandy."

Harry laughed, his breath warm against Draco's cheek; he left a kiss on Draco's temple before pulling back. He took a step away and waved a hand at Draco's body and the warmth of Harry's magic washed over him, drying him and blowing the sand away. "Are you sure I can't tempt you with a swim?" he asked, nodding his head toward the ocean.

"Positive. I prefer not shedding my skin like a snake after it's been burned to a crisp."

Harry huffed, "There are charms for that, you know."

"They don't work," Draco replied, slipping his sunglasses down over his eyes before settling into his chair. "I'm fine," he said, shooing Harry away. "You go play in the ocean and I'll read Pansy's latest," he said, holding up the paperback he'd brought along.

Harry bent over him and brushed his lips over Draco's, "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yes," he murmured, leaning up to peck Harry's lips one more time. "Go."

Harry started away, turning his head to call over his shoulder, "Admit it. You just like to watch my arse as I walk away."

He huffed a laugh but it didn't stop him from watching Harry walk toward the ocean.

-----------

They'd spent the afternoon by the ocean, Harry playing in the water and returning to Draco to steal his drink and get him covered in salty ocean water and sand. After the beach they'd gone to dinner, then wandered around the little town, popping into shops and stopping for coffee, then ice cream, before heading back to the little villa they were staying at.

Draco collapsed on the sofa, feeling full and happy.

Harry flopped down on top of him, pressing him into the soft white cushions.

"Oof," he grumbled but he wrapped his arms around Harry and held him tight so he didn't move.

Harry nuzzled into Draco's neck, "You smell like the ocean."

"Do I?" Draco asked, amused, stroking his fingers through Harry's curls.

Harry nodded and his body relaxed further, and Draco gladly accepted the pleasant weight of him.

After a few minutes of quiet cuddles and soft kisses, Harry stood up and tugged Draco up after him. "Come on," he said.

"Come where?" he said, trying to pull him back to the sofa. Or perhaps the hot tub.

The other man huffed at him and then just scooped him up. Draco shrieked, "Put me down! This is not dignified."

"Nope," Harry replied, carrying him out to the balcony, then down the steps. "You have no more excuses," he informed him. "You are getting in the ocean with me."

Draco kicked his legs, instinctively wanting to fight with him, "There's still sand and water."

"Neither of which will cause sunburn or peeling," Harry replied as he set him on his feet. Harry reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it up over his head and knocking his glasses off.

"That's just plain manipulative," Draco replied as Harry's torso was revealed. Harry knew that Draco stood no chance of resisting him when he stood there all muscles and gorgeous skin just waiting to be caressed by Draco's hands.

His laugh rang out, warm and pleased, "You should get undressed too," he informed him as his hands started to undo the button and zip on his trousers. "You're going in the ocean whether you're out of that handsome outfit or not."

"Handsome, hmm?" he asked as he pulled his own shirt over his head.

"Yes," Harry replied easily. "You are the most gorgeous person I've ever met. Regardless of what you're wearing."

Draco shook his head at him and leaned in to peck a kiss to his lips.

Harry pulled back before they could get more invested in the kiss, "Come on," he said again, stepping back then making eye contact with Draco as he hooked his thumbs in his pants and pushed them off. "Don't keep me waiting," he added with a wink before turning and walking away without a backward glance, knowing full well Draco would follow.

He stripped out of his clothes embarrassingly quickly, stumbling a bit in the sand as his foot got stuck in his pants. Once he'd gotten them kicked off and righted himself, he looked up to see that Harry was standing in water up to his hips, staring out at the vastness of the ocean.

Draco had always thought of Harry as more like the sun; warm and consuming, his light illuminating everything around him, making new life bloom. But perhaps he was like the moon, too, Draco thought. Quiet, steady, pulling Draco in the same way the moon moved the waves.

Either way he was beautiful.

He made his way out to the other man and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, pressing his front to Harry's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder.

Harry leaned back against him and covered Draco's arms with his own, "Took you long enough," he murmured.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked, kissing the tender spot on Harry's neck where his shoulder and neck met.

Harry turned in his arms, "That I love you," he said softly, stroking his warm, wet hands down Draco's neck and over his chest. "That life is beautiful and full of meaning when you have someone to share it with. I was thinking that you have filled up my life with joy, and laughter, and love in ways that I never knew I needed. That I knew what it was to love but not what it was to be loved, not like this anyway," he added, brushing his hands over Draco's ribs. "I was thinking that I was glad to be alive."

Draco didn't know what to say, never knew what to say when Harry said words like those to him. He'd never imagined that anyone could feel those things for him and if anyone did, it certainly shouldn't have been Harry.

"I was also thinking," Harry said, before Draco could come up with a reply, "That it's ridiculous that you agreed to come to the beach for our honeymoon, when you obviously hate it so much."

"But I love you," he said easily. "And I love seeing you here. You're so," he trailed off, searching for the right word, "free here. And I genuinely do not mind sitting under an umbrella and drinking all day while you get gorgeously tan. The bathing trunks you have don't hurt anything either," he teased.

Harry kissed him lightly, "You want to know the truth?"

"Yes," he breathed, brushing his nose along Harry's and closing his eyes as he rested their foreheads together.

"Anywhere I am with you, I am free," he said. "You've set me free from bars that I never knew were holding me, Draco Malfoy."

"That's Draco Potter, to you," he whispered. "And you've set me free, too."

Day 9: Nose Kisses | Day 11: Pinky Promise

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlets #day 10: The Beach #Thanks for the prompt!#I love the ocean #enjoy!#married drarry #send me a one word ask and I'll write you a ficlet

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modern-inheritance · 3 years

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Modern Inheritance: Two for Flinching

(A/N: Some wound description and technically self harm? {wound burning for infection control}, so warnings for that. Just some Eragon and co. during the run to the Varden. This one actually has a bit more setup for Eragon’s book 1/early book 2 characterization, but I’m not sure how I did. He’s hard for me to write. There’s also quite a few mentions of tech and magic mechanics that I’ve worked into MIC, but those will be mentioned more in the tags.)

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Eragon winced as Saphira landed. Per their usual travel plans since Gil'ead and Arya’s awakening he had spent the night flying with Saphira while the others traveled at a continued breakneck pace on the ground with the horses. It was wearing them all down, even Saphira, and the few hours of sleep they managed to get during the daylight hours did little to alleviate the stress travel was putting on their bodies.

Camp was already in the midst of being set as Eragon untied his legs from the saddle and slid down Saphira’s side. He landed then grimaced as he fell to his knees, muscles feeling like jelly.

“Did you see anything worth mentioning?” Brom asked as the young Rider pushed himself up. When he shook his head, not trusting himself to speak aloud, the older man grunted and turned back to unsaddling Snowfire. “There’s supposed to be some old, ruined staging points of the Varden’s around here. Must be further up ahead. We’re going slower than I thought.”

“We’re going as fast as we can.” Murtagh snapped. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed. Lately Eragon had noticed that the other youth was becoming increasingly agitated, quick to anger, and it wasn’t just the lack of sleep and lingering sunburn getting to him.“If you want to warn the Varden so bad, do some of your little magic tricks and tell them about the Urgals.”

Arya spoke quickly from where she crouched coaxing the fire to life, cutting off Brom’s scathing retort and ending the argument before it began. “It doesn’t exactly work like that. Besides, the Varden has specific wards around their strongholds, preventing scrying and other magical forms of communication.”

Eragon eased himself down next to the elf, trying to warm fingers stiff from flying so high in the chill clouds. “Then how do they stay in contact with you and anyone else outside their hiding spots? It seems dangerous to be so isolated.”

The woman gently rearranged a few sticks to give the young flames more air and slipped a dark object under the growing pile of embers. “Special radios were developed, using the fingerprint technology similar to lock on my backpack. Mine was destroyed when Durza tried to operate it himself.” She cracked a slight grin, still focused on her task. “Well, actually, it blew up in his face. Brain matter, just everywhere. Huh-hoo, he was pissed when he got back.”

“The Varden rigs them to explode if the person’s fingerprint doesn’t match?!” Eragon recoiled slightly, agast. “What if someone’s kid found it and thought it was a toy?”

Off to the side, Brom snorted, muttering, “I bet it wasn’t the Varden who–”

“No, I rigged it up myself, and only for those who bore ill-will to the Varden and free races in case it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Knew it.” Brom scoffed. Arya looked over her shoulder to the old Rider and rolled her eyes. “You just like seeing things explode.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in years than when that thing went off. I think I even cracked a rib.”

Brom shook his head, but let the matter go.

It wasn’t long before the fire was high and the day’s meal heated. They sat around the burning logs, Saphira even laying her head down to occupy a third of the circle, and planned the next few legs of travel. When the food was eaten, the talk dwindled away as they all sat staring into the flames, tired but not willing to sleep just yet.

Then Saphira flicked out her tongue, as if tasting the air, and projected her thoughts to the group.

‘Whoever has the infected wound should care for it soon.’ Everyone looked up, mildly startled out of their inner musings. 'It will turn into a deep-rot in another day or so. Just thought they should know.’

“You can smell things like that?” Eragon asked, surprised. “Are you like one of those dogs that can smell cancer?”

The dragon cut her eyes at him and her lip lifted slightly. 'I am nothing like a dog.’

The boy smiled apologetically, realizing his mistake. “I know. Sorry. But it’s pretty cool being able to smell things like that.”

Murtagh raised an eyebrow. “Aye, it’s cool. But shouldn’t we be more focused on who the hell was hiding a possibly necrotic wound? Things like that need to be addressed. It would only slow us down more.”

Then a ringing SMACK! broke through the air as Brom suddenly slapped Arya upside the head. Hard.

“What the hell were you thinking, girl?” He growled, expression dark.

“Ow! Hey, why the fuck do you think it’s me?!” The elf retorted sharply, rubbing the back of her head and glaring back at him.

Everyone, even Saphira, gave the woman a deadpan look that clearly asked 'really?’

She put her hands up. “Alright, alright, so yeah, maybe a cut or two got infected, but I’m already fixing them, okay?” Arya snarled, pointing at the handle of a knife sticking out of the dying fire’s thick pile of coals.

Silence fell.

“Are you sure that is the best idea?” Brom asked slowly. He seemed to have calmed down a bit now that Arya had revealed having an actual plan and wasn’t just ignoring her injuries. His change in tone made Eragon wonder if the latter was a common occurrence. “There’s always magic. You don’t have to–”

“And who, exactly, would cast it, hm? Eragon? Can you instruct him in the intricacies of infection cleansing within the next few minutes? I’ve still got enough drug in me to complicate healing spells, so that’s out of the question. And I’ll not have you working spells on me, not when the Varden will need you at your best.” Arya shook her head. “No, it will have to be burned.”

Murtagh stood at the mention of burning. “Oh, bloody hell. Not right after we ate!” He retreated to where he had tossed his saddlebags and began unrolling his sleeping bag. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again– you’re bloody insane, Arya. I don’t want to see this. I’m going to sleep.”

“Sweet dreams, Murtagh.” The elf called after him in a singsong voice. “Don’t let the sizzling wake you up!” The young man let out a noise of disgust and threw himself on the blankets. “Wuss.”

'She can’t be serious about this!’ Eragon exclaimed to Saphira, worried about the elf who was unlacing her boots as calmly as a praying monk. 'She’s already hurt enough! We should offer to heal it. I know she shot Brom down, but–’

Saphira cut him off. 'Little one, do you honestly think that we know enough about healing to cleanse even a scratch of infection without making it worse? Brom has explained before that waíse heill has its limitations, one of the most dangerous being that if it closes an infected injury the infection will survive beneath the skin.’ Eragon grimaced, cursing himself for nearly forgetting one of the nuances of the spell. 'Once the infected flesh is burned away, thenwe can attempt to heal it for Arya.’

Her logic was sound. 'I still don’t like it. But you’re right.’

The dragon sniffed, a short puff of smoke dissipating into the air above her nostrils. 'Of course I am.’

Eragon grinned, then turned his attention back to where Brom and Arya still sat by the fire as the older Rider grunted, “That looks like it hurt. You’re lucky it didn’t break.” The boy approached them as Arya finished rolling her pant leg up to her knee.

“Perks of elvish bones, I guess.” Arya muttered, gently testing the skin around the injury. On the outside of her left calf was a nasty, scraping gash, most likely left by the sharp edge of a hobnailed boot if the bruising pattern was anything to go by. The skin around the ragged edges was pink and red, and cracks ran through the roughly palm sized scab covering the cut and revealing damp, yellowish flesh beneath. Pinkish, yellow tinged fluid leaked from the cracks. “Damn. At least it isn’t necrotic. You were right, Saphira. This one is about to turn.” The elf flashed a thankful smile to the dragon. “Hell, you might have just saved my leg.”

'You’re quite welcome.’

Eragon winced when he saw the wound. “After you, uh…burn it, I can close it for you. A burn isn’t too hard to heal, and it would keep it from getting infected again and slowing you down.”

For a for a split second the memory of healing the elf’s back jumped to the forefront of his mind. Not images of the horrifying wounds, but of warm skin, lean muscle and an unmistakably feminine body. Eragon felt the tips of his tapering ears turn bright red, and he quickly stuck his hands in his pockets, pinching himself hard through the fabric. It was definitely not the time for those kinds of thoughts.

He was thankful, then, that Arya looked over to Brom after giving him only a quick glance. “What do you think, old man? I can keep up well enough. Wouldn’t mind a little less risk of that changing though.”

Brom crossed his arms. “It’s up to the boy and Saphira. Do you two think you can handle it?”

Eragon nodded firmly. “I’m sure I can. Definitely if Saphira helps. I really don’t mind it, and it’s the least I can do after being unable to heal the rest of your wounds properly.”

“Hey, you and Saphira don’t owe me anything. You saved my life in probably three different ways so far, so I’m the one that owes you all.” Arya pulled a field medkit from her bag and tore off two short wads of gauze from a roll. “If you both want to heal it and it won’t put either of you in danger, I won’t complain. It won’t be the last time I say it, but thank you. Really.”

Eragon smiled, a strange warmth bubbling in his heart at the elf’s expression of gratitude. In the back of his mind he sensed Saphira examining his emotions, and was a little confused when the dragon mentally chuckled at them. “You’re welcome. I like to help where I can.”

“Mm. Let’s get this over with then.” Without further ado Arya pulled the knife from the coals.

It was an old blade of human make, and by the seal stamped on the handle Eragon recognized it as one of the combat knives he had grabbed from a soldier during their mad escape from Gil'ead. In the light of the midmorning sun it was difficult to judge if the metal was glowing fiercely, but the blade had acquired a unmistakeable, faint orange color at the sides and an inch down the tip. At the thicker sections it seemed to be lit on the inside by a deep, dark cherry red glow.

Arya took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and went to stick the wad of gauze in her mouth as she lowered the hot blade towards her leg. Brom’s hand suddenly settled on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, startled out of her grim task.

“Do you want me to do it?” The old Rider’s voice was surprisingly gentle, soft even. In the months he had traveled with him, Eragon had heard him speak in such a tone only a handful of times, mostly murmured under his breath to himself or to Jeod when talking about the Varden and times past. Despite their rough banter, Eragon realized the Brom and Arya were undoubtedly good friends, to the point that he wondered if the two had fought together on the battlefield.

Arya looked between Brom and the knife for a moment, then sighed, “You might have to if I flinch and can’t keep up the pressure. I want to try it myself first, but thanks for having my back.” Brom nodded and pulled his hand back as the elf bit down on the gauze.

Then, without any other warning, she tore her nails across the gash in her leg, ripping away the disintegrating scab, and shoved the flat of the glowing knife into the now open wound.

Eragon jerked back, flinching as his self preservation instinct screamed at the indecency of blatant self-destruction. It wasn’t the visual that disturbed him, but the sound of the metal burning away first the blood and fluids, and then the infected flesh beneath. It hissed and sizzled, and occasionally sounded like the powerful magnet toys he used to buy at the fair and toss in the air hear their buzzing song.

For a moment Arya’s muscles snapped rigid, then she seemed to recover and her face fell into a blank, emotionless mask. After letting the blade rest in its original spot for several long seconds she lifted it and exposed the two remaining sections of the gash to the heat, quickly wiping the knife on the other piece of gauze between each burning. Eragon’s stomach did a sickening maneuver similar to a double full flip he had witnessed Katrina do at one of her gymnastics presentations with Roran when he realized that she was wiping seared flesh off the blade.

Then it was over. The entire procedure couldn’t have taken more than a minute, but the scent of burned meat hung in the air. Where infection had once turned tissue yellow and white, there was now only bright red muscle shot through with soot and darkened epidermis.

“That…wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” Arya hissed and spat the gauze out. Her teeth were clenched and voice tight, but her movements were controlled, smooth, and betrayed no other indications that she was in pain. “I’m not looking forward to it if I need to do it again, though.”

Brom rubbed his face, a little paler than usual. “There’s something just…so much more disturbing about seeing you do it to yourself.”

“Dear Gods above, I HEARD IT ALL THE WAY OVER HERE!” Came a distraught groan from Murtagh’s sleeping bag. Arya snatched a stick from the pile next to the fire, abandoning the still-hot knife, and whipped it at the tucked form huddled in the bag. It pegged the young man exactly where his head should have been, and muffled swearing drifted through the camp before it dwindled off as he rolled over and tried his best to sleep.

Eragon scooted closer, forcing himself to swallow back his queasiness. “Here, can we….” Arya leaned her head back and nodded, eyes shut tight as heat lingered in the wound.

Reaching out a thicker tendril of his consciousness to Saphira, the young Rider met the mind of his dragon halfway. Their thoughts, consciousnesses, and minds twisted around each other, binding together more strongly than they usually did. Saphira’s energy flowed into Eragon, and he in turn shared some of his until the stream equaled out and they were one.

Together they moved Eragon’s hand out, the Gedwëy Ignasia shining bright, and uttered the words needed to heal the now cleansed burn. The icy magic rushed through their joined minds, knitting the skin back together with the ease of water flowing from one side of a creak to the next.

As they completed their task, Saphira pulled back from the increased contact, again leaving their minds connected by the usual tendrils of thought. Once separated, Saphira mentioned to Eragon, 'Your magic tickles.’ and rubbed her snout on the side of her foreleg.

'Does it? It always feels cold to me.’ Eragon sat back on his heels, checking the wound to make sure he had not left any scarring this time. Like the other times he and Saphira had worked magic while bound together, he only felt a slight drain on their combined strength. 'I know when something is healed on me it itches like crazy though. Is that what you’re feeling?’

'Being a conduit is different from both casting and being casted on. Acting as the in-between must be giving me the sensation of both the cold and the itching. It makes my scales tickle.’ As if to demonstrate her point, the scales at Saphira’s neck lifted slightly with a sound similar to dry leaves being whisked away by a strong wind. The scales rose and lowered in a ripple along her entire body, giving the distinct impression that she had shivered. 'So, how did we do?’

“Very well for such a simply worded spell.” Eragon realized that Saphira had projected her last thought to Arya and Brom as well when the elf answered. She tested the new skin, not at all bothered that they had not healed the bruising, and seemed happy with the results of their casting. “You’re quite adept at magic for knowing so few words in the Ancient Language, Eragon. From what I’ve seen, you have an uncanny ability to influence your spells more with your intentions than the words you use.”

Brom grunted, nodding in Eragon’s direction. The older man’s chest seemed to swell with pride at the praise directed at his pupil. “Aye, he’s got a gift. And Saphira carries it as well. I’ve never heard of a dragon acting as such a strong conduit before. You both are learning well.”

Touched, Eragon dipped his head as both he and Saphira answered the compliments. Any praise coming from Brom was few and far between, and now he was practically bragging to Arya about their progress.

A comfortable silence fell once again. Brom laid out his sleeping bag, surrendering his usual first watch to Arya at her insistence that 'old men need their rest,’ and Saphira lifted her head from where it rested to tuck it under the tip of her tail, settling in to sleep. Arya tugged her boots back on and reloaded her pistol. Eragon stayed by the fire with her for a few more minutes, content to be close to the elf for a little longer before he too retired for sleep.

“Oh! Right.” Arya suddenly looked over at him, a gleam in her dark eyes. He met her gaze, puzzled, then let out a yelp as her fist shot out and punched him in the arm twice. He knew it was probably a love tap for someone of elvish strength, but it still stung.

“Hey!” Eragon leaned away from her, rubbing his sore arm. It would definitely be bruised by the time he woke that night. “What was that for?”

The elf grinned, rising to her feet to stretch and take her place for the first watch. She slung her sword and its harness over one shoulder, and Eragon felt a hot blush blossom on his cheeks when she casually roughed up his hair as she stepped by him. “Two for flinching.”

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downbytheouterbanks · 4 years

Text

Happy Place (Rafe x Reader) pt 2

a/n: Hi!! I just wanted to say thanks for the support for the first part of Happy Place I really didn’t think it was any good so it was incredible to me to see people enjoy it ((: Anyways, here’s part two, I had a totally different plan for the next part but then I got sunburnt like really bad and it gave me an idea (;

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The next few days blurred together, all you did was unpack and organize, never again did you want to have to breakdown cardboard boxes. You placed one final poster on your wall before stepping back and taking it all in, proud of your work and excited to show it off, you shoot Sarah a text telling her that your masterpiece is complete and that HGTV would be proud. As soon as your message switched from reading “delivered” to “read” your phone starts buzzing and Sarah’s face appears.

“She’s alive!!” Sarah screams at you through FaceTime, making you laugh. “Now that you’re done settling in, we should celebrate! How about this weekend, when my parents take Wheezie to her first official tour of UNC, we have a girl’s day? We can do our nails, hang by the pool, and catch up! Plus, I know someone who can hook us up with some White Claws. You can sleepover and it’ll be like the good old days!”

“Sounds like a plan! I can have my mom make her famous chocolate chip cookies for us to much on while you fill me in on all the island gossip.” You offer up as you plop onto your bed.

“I can’t say no to that! Now give me ten minutes and I’m coming over for a grand tour of your digs. Plus we gotta pick out cute swimsuits to take pics in because a girl’s day is not complete without a photo-op moment.” She says before blowing a kiss to you and hanging up.

It was Thursday when you had FaceTimed with Sarah and let your parents know that you would be spending the weekend with Sarah, and Saturday had finally rolled around. It was a classic hot and humid summer day in the Outer Banks so the walk to the Cameron’s house had you sweaty and ready for the pool.

You let yourself into the house, instantly stripping down to your swimsuit, you yell, “HONEY, I’M HOME!” as you make your way through the house out towards the pool. You were only expecting Sarah to be home, which feeds your shock as you strut through the kitchen only to be met with Rafe slouched against the counter, eating a bowl of cereal.

“Do you have to be so loud?” He says as he makes his way closer to you, giving you a better opportunity to take in his appearance, his sandy blond hair is disheveled and lays against his forehead, lacking the gelled-back structure it had last time you saw him. You don’t answer his question as your eyes shift down, taking in his tanned skin, exposed thanks to the overly-cut muscle tank he wore. He was about three feet away from you but his tall stature towered you, forcing you to look up to meet his eyes. A soft smile and a light blush grace his features as his eyes meet yours.

“I didn’t realize you were gonna be here.” You respond.

“Someone has got to make sure you and the princess don’t burn the house down,” he chuckles lightly and then takes in your appearance. You had ditched your t-shirt and shorts at the door, leaving you in just your (Y/F/C) bathing suit. Sarah had picked it for you to wear because she said “it is the perfect combination of scandalous and tasteful” she then added, “your insta DMs will thank me later”. Rafe’s eyes rake back up your body to meet yours, he raises his eyebrows in a manner of disbelief, “Did you walk here in just that?”

You retort, “I don’t know did you walk here in just that?”

“Yeah, I live here”

“Well, aren’t you a lucky boy.”

“Hey! Stop stealing her from me, this is a girl’s day!” Sarah exclaims as she makes her way into the kitchen. She grabs your hand and walks you out to the backyard, as she leads you out of the kitchen you raise your free hand and dramatically blow a kiss to Rafe, who responds by catching it and throwing it into the trash. You gasp and exclaim, “how rude!” before you are pulled out of his sight.

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After all afternoon out by the pool, Sarah and you make your way inside to shower and get ready for a no-shame Barbie movie marathon. Sarah lets you use the bathroom attached to her room while she goes and uses her parent’s bathroom. As soon as the water hits your back, your skin is set aflame. You mentally kick yourself for not putting on sunscreen as you finish showering as quickly as possible, desperate to relieve the pain you’re in.

Once you get out of the shower, you wipe the condensation off of the mirror and inspect the damage. You let out a sigh as you realize that the sunburn spans all over your back, out of your reach. You pick up your towel and dry yourself off, putting on your underwear and sweatpants, hesitating when you go to pick up your bra, deciding, eventually, to skip it and put on your oversized t-shirt. You look through Sarah’s medicine cabinet, finally locating your saving grace, a bottle of aloe vera. Stepping out of the bathroom you start heading in the direction of Ward and Rose’s room but stop once you realize you can still hear the water running, Sarah is still in the shower.

Desperate for relief from the burning of your skin, you let out a groan and turn towards Rafe’s room. You stop in front of his door and hear music softly playing as you knock, “Hey, Rafe?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can… uh. Can I come in?” You ask and almost immediately the door opens, revealing Rafe.

“What can I do for you m’lady?” He says in what you could only assume to be an attempt at a British accept as he opens the door for you and he walks back into his room. “Is the favorite Cameron sibling no longer entertaining you?” And then he lets out an exasperated gasp as he falls back onto his bed over-dramatically exclaiming, “Am I your second choice?”

You approach the foot of the bed and stare down at him while he just lazily smiles up at you, “Well, if you want to be technical about it, since Wheezie is not here, and you’re the only other Cameron sibling, then you would be my last choice.”

He sits up slightly, “Ouchie,” he makes a pouty face and then points to his heart, “that hurt me, right here.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re so fragile. Can we stay focused, please? I am in PAIN. Can you please put some of this aloe vera on my back? I got burned really badly today.” You say as you toss the bottle onto the bed next to him.

“Yeah, sure. No-” and then his breath hitches in his throat and he gulps. You had turned your back to him and taken your shirt off, still grasping it in one of your hands. “No problem.” He manages to stutter out as he stands up behind you.

Not thinking much of it, you weren’t really covering yourself up, as Rafe was situated behind you but what you don’t notice is the mirror in the corner of his room. Rafe is busy squeezing out some of the gel into his hands, and then when he gently rubs his hands with the cooling gel onto your searing skin and you let out a soft moan of relief, his head snaps up, instinctively looking to the mirror to see you. And, boy, does he see you.

“JESUS, (Y/N/N)!” He breathes out, soothing touch leaving you back as his head snaps up, looking at the ceiling.

“What is your deal?”

“Can’t you cover yourself up a bit?! I saw you… A LOT of you in the mirror!” He says, and then your eyes widen, your arm that grasps your shirt coming up to grasp at your breasts, gaze shifting around the room to locate said mirror. When your gaze lands on the mirror, you admire the boy in the mirror, all red in the face and neck, head tilted up and away, a hand held up to shield his eyes. You turn around and using your free hand, reach up to lower his hand from his eyes, a sheepish smile adorning your features, your blush only slight in comparison to his.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to flash you.” You giggle softly and turn your back to face him again waiting for his healing touch to return.

“Yeah.. uh… it’s um. Yeah.” He mumbles out, as he returns to rubbing soothing circles on your back, avoiding your stare through the mirror.

“You know you don’t have to act like you’ve never seen someone’s boobs before, Rafe.” You both let out a laugh and his breath hits the newly soothed over skin, and a pleasured sigh escapes your lips at the sensation. Rafe’s gaze raises to meet yours in the mirror, his eyebrows raised.

“Sorry,” You clear your throat, “You just uh breathed on that spot and it uh felt… felt nice.”

Holding his stare with yours, he finishes spreading a layer of aloe over your burning skin. However, as his hand leaves your back, a mischievous look flashes across his features. Suddenly, he fans his breath all over the area he just dampened with his touch, goosebumps raising on the rest of your skin. He pops his head back up to meet your shocked face in the mirror. You quickly turn, ready to bolt from the room to re-evaluate your feelings, but your brain is clouded and your depth perception has never been your strong suit, you turn right into the very culprit of your flustered state.

Rafe goes to grasp your elbows and steady you, “Woah, there. You alright?” He chuckles, amused at the newly flushed state of your face.

“Yep, all good. Good. Good. GREAT. I’m gonna go. Now, and uh wait for Sarah in her room.” You let out, avoiding eye contact with the boy that has undoubtedly got your heart beating out of your throat. You struggle to wiggle your way back into your shirt without the tit-show, again. Suddenly, an extra pair of hands guide your shirt back on you, his hands pulling it down your torso, and then settling onto your hips. Your head slowly lifts and your arms lower back down and settle onto his chest. You both stay here, sharing a stare packed with confusion, curiosity, and longing.

Is it possible to feel absolutely paralyzed while also absolutely overrun by butterflies at the same time? You think to yourself.

“I feel the same way,” Rafe whispers. His response snaps you out of your daze.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I said that out loud.” You say as you detach yourself from the entrancing hold you were in, backing up a few steps. “Okay, well. As I said, I’m just gonna go wait in Sarah’s room.”

“Okay.” You back up more with his response, he looked confused and you mirrored him with the same confusion overtaking your features. Desperate to gather as much space from the source of your racing brain, you turn to the door.

As you’re walking out you rush out a “thanks for the hold. FUCK. Thanks for the help.” And with that, you are walking as fast as you can to Sarah’s room to sit and mentally unpack everything that just happened with her brother.

tag list: @drewsephsmiles @babygurlbarnes

let me know if you want a part three and if you want me to tag you (:

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oreozfox · 3 years

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I posted 729 times in 2021

171 posts created (23%)

558 posts reblogged (77%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.3 posts.

I added 642 tags in 2021

#my post - 167 posts

#kny - 101 posts

#my art - 70 posts

#inuyasha - 59 posts

#mao manga - 56 posts

#rumic world - 48 posts

#ranma 1/2 - 40 posts

#my writing - 38 posts

#hxh - 33 posts

#bnha - 30 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#might redesign the characters but i'll have to change em up just in case those chatlands and foopets ppl are still using their characters

My Top Posts in 2021

Me:

48 notes • Posted 2021-10-19 20:04:24 GMT

my first rumic world meme

56 notes • Posted 2021-02-22 12:04:48 GMT