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wileycap · 2 months

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Beings Suffering From Extreme Sleep Deprivation Should Not Attempt Turning To The Dark Side

There he was. Anakin Skywalker, the prize jewel of the Sith... even if he did not know it yet. Sitting in the office of his friend, the Supreme Chancellor.

All the pieces were now in place, and the only thing left to do was to reveal his identity to Skywalker and let him break down. The satisfaction that permeated the form of Sheev Palpatine was so great that he nearly forgot that his parents had named him Sheev.

But not for long. Distaste prickled up his spine. Still, they were entering the glorious morning of a Sith Empire that would never see night. Or, rather more accurately, the night would be neverending. And the metaphors would be better - he would hire (and by hire, he meant enslave) the greatest poets to compose endless lamentations for the suffering he was about to unleash.

Skywalker sat in the chair, looking listless. The nightmares Palpatine had sent had done their job well - it seemed like he had hardly slept. His thoughts were sluggish, his resistance gone, and his terror absolute. Terror for his "secret" wife, who he feared would die in childbirth.

And while the "visions" were far from genuine, oh, Palpatine intended to make sure that Padmé Amidala would.

With the death of his wife, Palpatine's control over Anakin Skywalker would be perfect. And, in ten or twenty years, thirty even, the boy would become his new vessel. After all, the plans of the Sith were measured in the millenia, and Sheev Palpatine had no intention of planting trees in whose shade younger generations might sit. No. He intended to sit there himself, chasing off the whippersnappers so they might get sunburnt. (He really needed to consult a poet.)

But the creation of his Empire was a far more immediate goal, and a very worthy stepping stone indeed. And since all it would take was a push, he had better get to administering said push.

"Dear boy, I don't think I've ever seen you look quite this... disturbed," he intoned, perfectly miming the tones of a concerned grandfather. "Not - and I am terribly sorry to bring this up, but I can't help but be concerned - not even... not even when your mother died."

There. Skywalker was an easy instrument to play. A veil of concern, a dash of "you can tell me anything." A hint of his past trauma, which so neatly (almost as if by design) connected to his current fear. Even calling attention to Skywalker's sorry state served to remind him that the structures he could depend on were now shaky and unsure, ravaged by war.

Palpatine briefly entertained himself by wondering what the boy might think of the sheer amount of planning that had been put into his fall.

"Mom?" Skywalker asked, voice groggy and wide eyes betraying his shock.

And said nothing more, just gaped at Palpatine, as if he were about to pull Shmi Skywalker out from under his robes. Idiot boy.

"I'm terribly sorry for shocking you, Anakin," Palpatine said, suffusing the room with his phony concern. "I know it must be horrible to think about, especially in these... present circumstances."

Well, he'd thrown subtlety out the viewport, but that would certainly get the job done.

Skywalker did not respond. He was blearily gazing into middle distance. And Palpatine was running out of time - Skywalker needed to fall now, before Kenobi could return from Utapau and somehow pull him back from the brink, again.

So, subtlety? Subtlety would die the same death it always died in Skywalker's presence: a sudden one.

"Actually, I've called you here on an important matter," he said, injecting some urgency into his tone - no longer a grandfather, but a concerned statesman. "I now have every reason to believe that Senator Amidala and the Delegation of Two Thousand are planning a coup."

"Huh?" Skywalker said, attempting to sit up. "Padmé's planning..."

And then his train of thought appeared to slip away again, and he resumed his vacant staring.

"Yes." Palpatine gritted out. "Padmé Amidala, your wife, is planning a coup."

"Oh. Yeah, she's good at politics," Anakin mumbled, offering Palpatine a tired smile. "I'm sure she'll do a good job."

"A coup against me." When nothing more than a "hmm" was forthcoming, Palpatine continued. "And it appears she has allied with the Jedi Council."

Skywalker suddenly stood up, ramrod straight. Finally, Palpatine thought.

"What?"

"I'm sorry you have to find out this way-"

"No, no, this is great! She's finally hanging out with my work friends! Now she'll know what it feels like!" Skywalker shook his head. "Like, it's only fair, right? I've sat through a ton of formal dinners and stuff. And Bail is okay, I guess, and Mon, and Fang Zhar is kinda funny, but... they're so boring. Treaty this, agreement that, 'what do you think, Master Jedi?'"

Skywalker started pacing. "Yeah, but who's laughing now, Padmé? I hope she tries to take them out for lunch. Then she'll get to see twelve Jedi Masters meditating to discern which restaurant the Force is pulling them towards."

He turned to Palpatine, as if to explain. "And that takes hours. You wanted lunch? Sorry, it's dinnertime and also tomorrow, and the spot they picked, which, by the way, is always the one Yoda wants,-" and, to the Sith Lord's horror, he launched into an imitation, "'mmm, great darkness I sense within the Jundland Buffet, perhaps to Stewcruiser, we should instead go', but when we finally decide to go to Stewcruiser, it's closed on Taungsday, and the whole thing starts all over again!"

And at that, Skywalker sat down with a huff.

"Indeed," Palpatine said, no longer able to keep the coldness out of his voice. "The inefficiencies of the Jedi are... vexing."

"Tell me about it," Skywalker mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"But rather more pressingly, they are planning a coup." Palpatine said, rather icily.

"Yeah, right," the boy said, looking a bit shamefaced. "Sorry."

"It is no matter," Palpatine replied, still eyeing the Jedi. Skywalker made no move. "What do you think about the coup?"

"Oh, yeah, uh. Like I said, I'm sure she'll do a great job. Sorry, I don't really... pay attention to politics."

Palpatine opened his mouth. And then closed it again. "A coup is a bad thing, Anakin."

"Uh-huh," Skywalker said, clearly paying no attention, and that was just about the limit of Palpatine's patience. He hadn't set the entire galaxy ablaze to be uh-huhed by the boy.

It was time to go for the throat.

"Anakin, I'm going to kill your wife." He said, enunciating every word as clearly as he could. He needed to provoke the boy into fear and anger, which would feed his guilt and shame, which would lead him to the Dark Si-

"Oh, okay. Good luck."

"What?!" He hissed. "I just threatened to kill your wife!"

"Yeah, but..." Skywalker scratched at the back of his neck. "I mean, she's been in like, twenty battles. She can handle herself."

"She is eight months pregnant!"

Skywalker actually shrugged. "The med droid said she can keep doing her usual activities for as long as she feels able. And no offence, but you're kind of... old."

"Old? I am the Lord of the Sith, young fool! I possess powers your feeble mind can't even comprehend!"

Something had gone blank in Skywalker's eyes, but Palpatine was far too angry to notice. "I orchestrated this entire war! All of this is my doing! I planned for your mother to die, I corrupted the Tuskens myself, I was behind Kenobi faking his death, beh-"

And that's about as far as he got, because a sky blue blade had just passed between the spot his head occupied and the spot that was occupied by his body, and had kindly suggested to the two that it was time to part ways.

"Chancellor, Sith Lords are a specialty at the Jundland Buffet," Anakin muttered, turning off his saber. He tried to hook it back on his belt, but apparently somebody had taken his usual hook, and the handle fell to the ground. Sighing, he called it up with the Force and shoved it into his boot for safekeeping, when a thought struck him. "No, that's not right. How did Obi-Wan say it..."

And then he commed Obi-Wan, because that seemed like the thing to do. After a long wait, a small, blue Obi-Wan appeared, looking harried. Before Anakin could compliment him on his new size and color, Obi-Wan was already talking way too fast, something about killing Grievous.

"Hey, Obi-Wan, uh. I killed the Sith, but I-"

"What?" Obi-Wan's voice had a lot of static in it. He should really get that checked out. "Sorry, Anakin, did you say you killed the Sith Lord?"

"Yeah, anyways, back when we were fighting Dooku, you said something about Sith Lords and a specialty, and, uh, is it a specialty dish somewhere? And can we go there next time the Council has lunch? I'm getting really sick of Stewcruiser."

"Anakin. When was the last time you slept?"

"Oh, uh, two weeks ago or something."

There was a heavy, staticy sigh from the other end of the comlink. "Alright, Anakin. Turn the comlink around and show me the Sith, and then I'll guide you through cleaning up the pieces of the duelling droid you dismantled this time, and - oh Force, is that the Chancellor?!"

"Uh-huh," Anakin nodded, forgetting that he wasn't in view of the receiver.

"Don't uh-huh me, Anakin! Did you kill the Supreme Chancellor?"

"Yeah, he was the Sith?" There weren't any more words coming through the comlink, so Anakin figured it was safe to continue. "He said that he orchestrated the whole war and he was the Sith. Also, for some reason, he moved out here to the desert, and that's weird, because I don't think it's gonna agree with his complexion."

There was more silence from the comlink. Anakin remembered to turn it so he was again visible to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan appeared to be frozen.

"Are you... disappointed?" Anakin asked, after a while.

"No more than the usual amount," Obi-Wan sighed. "Go take a nap."

"Oh, good," Anakin smiled. And then frowned. "Wait, what do you mean, 'the usual amount?'"

#sheev has a bad day #star wars #star wars fic #star wars crack #sheev palpatine #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #revenge of the sith

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vampiresfromxenon · 1 year

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Luscious, Succulent, Delectable

Astarion x gn! Tav/Reader

Around 2.3K words

Tags: Fluff, so much kissing, so much moaning (so so much), body (thigh) worship, consensual touching, mutual love, they are so insanely in love, slight angst, consensual biting/blood sucking, soft! Astarion, implied smut, no y/n

Summary: After a tough battle, you can’t help but fall apart in your tent, aching both inside and out. Astarion, whom you’ve recently committed to a relationship with, comes to your side to comfort you. Wanting to help you focus more on yourself and what your wants and needs are, he finds himself lost in exploring your thighs.

It’s been a long day. Hells, it’s been a long life. One day you wake up on a Nautiloid ship and suddenly you’re responsible for saving not just yourself, but pretty much all of Faerûn. Lucky you, right? Life’s punching bag, here in the flesh.

It’s not all bad, though. You’ve been met with some kindness along the way, though perhaps not as much as you feel you deserve. One of your traveling companions, however, has certainly delivered on his promises of ‘kindness’. For nights on end you two would sneak off into the woods, exploring each other’s pleasure limits, and for many, many mornings, Shadowheart was less than pleased to cure you of your bloodlessness.

As time went on, you learned more about Astarion, your pale, vampiric friend. You had your doubts about him at first, but you had grown to love him, caring for him deeply the more you learned about his past, the more he became vulnerable around you. After a drow from Moonrise Towers was very persistent to have Astarion drink from her, and you supported him in telling her to ‘fuck off’ (but in nicer words than you’d hoped for), you found yourselves re-evaluating your situation.

The vampire had grown to care for you, seeing much more in you than just protection. He saw something deeper, something real and fresh and… It was a bit much for him at first, but over time you both grew to be even more comfortable around each other, finding yourselves enjoying the smaller, lighter moments of intimacy that rose from being deeply in love.

Tonight was no different, as your party returns to camp from defending Halsin’s portal in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. You were covered in blood and bruises, trudging along to your tent at a slow pace. Most party members found themselves skipping dinner, just trying to sleep off their wounds and soreness. You found yourself nearly doing the same, sitting down on a soft cushion as you remove your armor, tossing it off to the side to be cleaned and polished later. Lying on your bedroll in your night clothes, you softly sigh, your body relaxing enough to where you can feel the full extent of the trauma your body went through today. Closing your eyes, you begin to doze off, trying to forget it all and think about what a new day could bring.

“How are you feeling?” A smooth voice asks, the flap of your tent crinkling as a figure wanders in. You wake with a start, sitting up to meet the new inhabitant of your tent.

“I’ve never felt better. Poets could write sonnets about how at peace I feel.” You sarcastically scoff, rolling your eyes.

Astarion grunts as he sits at your side, taking claim of the cushion you were previously on. It’s clear that today’s battle had also hit him quite hard. “I’ll be sure to sing along as they recite it.” He teases, trying to hide his discomfort. You both sit there in silence for a moment, not wanting to show a sign of weakness talking about how much your bodies ache from the day’s activities. You can’t help but break the silence first.

“I don’t know how we’re expected to do all of this. My whole body aches, I’m unsure if I’ll be able to walk properly tomorrow!” You say, exasperated.

“You carried on just fine after all those nights I left you unable to walk…” He snickers, and you playfully push at his chest.

“I’m being serious! This is a lot of pressure, so many people are relying on us, relying on me… I just don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.” Your eyes land in your lap.

Astarion takes a softer tone, hating to see his love in such a melancholy mood. “Darling…” He sighs, his hand resting on your thigh. You flinch a little, your legs badly bruised. He is quick to notice this, and he begins to gently massage your thigh through the fabric, hoping to bring you some comfort.

“You take on too much. I know you want to help, it’s a damn curse that you care so much, but we have to focus on taking care of ourselves for a bit. We spend so much time helping other people that I think you forget we have that hellish tadpole behind our eyes. We don’t have much time left, but I know we have enough for you to take a break. Please, you need to rest. You can’t solve everyone’s problems, especially when you can’t solve your own.”

You find yourself on the verge of tears, trying to take in all these words that he would have never said to you before you became close. Hearing this from him, seeing this side of him, you know he’s serious and means every single word. He notices your silence, your closed-offness from the conversation, and he gently places his fingers on your chin, tilting your head up to meet his.

“Promise me you’ll take a break? Only focus on the tadpole stuff for a bit?” He softly asks, his eyes switching between both of yours, looking for any sign of confirmation.

“Ok…” Is all you can breathe before he leans forward to hug you, both of your bodies trembling slightly from the bruises brought on from today. He pulls from you, placing soft kisses on your cheeks before a delicate one on your lips.

“I want to help you relax.” He offers, and you nod your head, trying to follow his words of advice about taking more time for yourself. He smiles as he moves down your body, slowly removing your trousers, leaving you in just your nightshirt and underwear. He tosses them off to the side, taking in the sight of your legs. He frowns before saying something in a low, rumbling, lustful tone.

“Oh Darling, those bruises should be from me.”

He sighs before crawling between your legs, his hands caressing the sides of your thighs as he lifts your legs over his shoulders. Moving his hands up and down your thighs gently, he takes in the scent of your skin. A smile creeps on his face as your body shivers from his touch, already very eager for more. Knowing this, he decides to take his time, teasing you for as long as he can handle. His hands begin to curl around your thighs, his fingertips dragging along the inside curve of your thighs now.

“Gods, why have I been sleeping with that ratty old pillow when these have been here this whole time?” He growls, gripping your thighs a little tighter, holding them closer to his head.

You let out a small gasp from both the pain and excitement from his touch. He’s massaging your thighs a little harder now, and you can’t help but let out small moans here and there, only encouraging him to continue. You throw your head back into the pillow, your hand on your mouth as he massages a particularly sore spot. Seeing this, he stops, waiting for you to meet his gaze again. Distraught from his lack of touching, you open your eyes and look down at him to see him gazing at you through his lashes.

“Don’t you ever hide those sounds from me, darling.” He purrs, a commanding tone in his voice. He reaches through your legs to remove your hand from your face, his hand trailing down your torso in a teasingly slow pace.

“I’m not even close to being done with you yet, I intend to make you sing all night. Your throat will be aching for ages…” His words are dripping with lust, and your heart races at his usage of those dirty double entendres. His hand slips between your legs, hooking around your left thigh again, bringing it closer to his face.

Maintaining eye contact with you, he licks a stripe up your leg, starting near the junction between your torso and thigh, ending all the way up to your knee. His breath tickles your skin as he chuckles, watching you shake from his attention. He does the same with your other thigh, making sure to go just a little bit slower to really drag out your slight frustration. Your chest feels tight as it rises and falls quickly, the sound of your panting becoming loud enough to be quietly heard from outside your tent. At this point, neither of you cared if anyone in the camp heard you; it wouldn’t be the first or last time they’d hear it.

“Your body is so soft, so beautiful, so perfect. Your thighs-” He kisses the inside of your left thigh near your knee softly, his tongue tracing at your skin. As he continues to speak, he sloppily kisses down your thighs, panting from all this excitement he brought on himself. He laps at your skin like a wild, hungry animal, your legs a fresh, raw, succulent steak.

“They are delectable, darling. ~mhm~ I just can’t get enough of them. ~mhm~ The knowledge that you get to have them, ~mhm~ that they’re part of you, ~mhm~ that you walk around with them ~mhm~ every day. ~mhm~ Gods, I envy you. ~mhm~ If I had legs these perfect, ~mhm~ I’d never ~mhm~ hide them ~mhm~ from the world. ~mhm~ Just the sight of you, ~mhm~ lounging on cushions, ~mhm~ your legs draped on each other, ~mhm~ the way your legs look so soft ~mhm~ and inviting… ~mhm~ It's a wonder how ~mhm~ I don’t just take you ~mhm~ right then and there. ~mhm~ You drive me crazy, ~mhm~ my love. ~mhm~”

He pulls away from your thighs, both of you so riled up that you feel as though the air has been knocked out of you. Your head is hot from all the blushing, all the flattering comments, all the kissing. His face is slightly flushed, his pupils blown out, his eyes brimming with both love and lust. He almost sounds drunk as he speaks, his voice nearly cracking at the thought of what he wishes to do to you next. Pleading, he lies his cheek on the inside of your right thigh.

“Your thighs are so delicious. I just need a taste. Just a quick taste. Please.” You can’t deny him, not after how much pleasure he’s brought you without even touching you like that yet. You nod your head, and even though he appears desperate, he makes it clear that he’s still the one in charge, the one with the upper hand.

“If you want it, you’ve got to say it.” You whimper as he massages your leg, teasing you.

“Yes! Gods, yes!” You breathlessly exclaim.

Without wasting a single second, he sinks his teeth into your left thigh, moaning as he bites harder into your soft flesh. You moan with him, the feeling of both pain and pleasure extremely stimulating. In all your excitement, you clamp your thighs together, almost crushing his head between them. He moans even louder, his hands pressing into your thighs, encouraging the pressure. Had your legs not already been bruised, you’re sure you’d have the shape of his hands in your skin for a few days after this. During all of this, you can feel his body moving, shaking… thrusting. If you weren’t already moaning, Gods only know how you’d react to the sight of him rolling, perhaps almost slamming, his hips into your bedroll as he drinks from you, his head clamped between your thighs.

As he drinks from your thigh, you feel the sharp stinging pain from the initial bite fading away, the tingling numbness taking its place. You can feel the blood leaving your body, and it feels different from how it usually does when it leaves your neck. It’s a new, exciting feeling, hard to compare to your neck as both give such different feelings of pleasure.

You can feel him slowing down on drinking from your thigh, his throat thick with your blood, his moans slowly turning into needy little whimpers and whines. He pulls from your thigh, eagerly lapping up the blood that drips from the two puncture wounds. The sight of his desperation makes him look like he’s never had anything to drink before in his life. The pressure from your thighs around his head releases, your legs falling open as you relax. You both lie there together, his head resting on your right thigh and looking up at you as you both try to catch your breath. He goes to speak, his voice wavering as he still continues to pant, his body now full of more energy thanks to your blood.

“For a moment there, I couldn’t breathe at all. I thought about pushing your legs away from me to catch my breath, but then I realized that I could die happy knowing that my head was crushed between your luscious thighs.”

You laugh, realizing how ridiculous his statement is, as well as how arousing it is too. He smiles, gently kissing the puncture wounds on your thigh again. Climbing on top of you, he nestles his hips between your legs, and you can feel just how much he enjoyed all of that. He leans over you, kissing you lightly, pulling back to gaze into your eyes.

“Thank you.” You quietly say, brushing his hair out of his face. Your hand caresses his cheek, feeling how warm he is with all your blood rushing through his body.

“No, thank you. And besides, don’t think we’re done just yet, my love.” He gives you a knowing look, cocking his eyebrow. “I want to be the main reason you can’t walk tomorrow.”

Before anything else can be said, you hungrily grab his face, his lips crashing on to yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing his body closer, his chest grinding into yours. The night wanders on, your tent rustling, full of moans and panting breaths, two people utterly, embarrassingly in love.

Author’s Note:

GUYS. Ok think back to that one scene where he drinks from Tav for the first time. You guys remember that one line of dialogue that happens if you persuade him off of you? “Mhh? Oh, of course. That - that was amazing.” His little whimper. His gulp. His panting. That one line alone was such a huge inspiration for how I wrote this, I need you all to know that that’s basically what he sounds like during most of this fic. Do with that information what you will-

(Also this is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing smut. I don’t feel 100% comfortable writing smut, but I hope you guys enjoy the moments like these as much as I do!!)

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secondcupforyou · 7 months

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seventeen as horrible pick-up lines, a carat/valentine’s day special 🩷🩵

disclaimer, this is purely for entertainment purposes and does not reflect who seventeen are as people.

pairing! ot13 (separate) x gender neutral! reader

warnings! light swearing

word count! ~1k words total

author’s note! i found a list of horrible pick-up lines and couldn’t stop myself…

Seungcheol

“I can't taste my cherry lip gloss! Can you give it a try?”

“Huh? Like you want me to try it out?” you asked as you rummaged around your bag. You had been trying to find your phone to get directions for the restaurant you got reservations for. After you found it, you looked up to see Seungcheol’s pouty face. At that, you realised he was probably asking for something less explicit. “Oh, was that you asking to kiss me? You should have been more clear.”

Jeonghan

“Are you iron? Cause I don’t get enough of you.”

”Last time I checked, I wasn’t Iron Man, so I would check somewhere else.” you joked. However, you weren’t fully expecting the whining that would come after it. As you began to laugh at his reaction, Jeonghan’s complaining got louder. Through broken laughs, you tried to speak, “C’mon, I know you could do better than that.”

Joshua

“On a scale of 1 to America, how free are you this weekend?”

You looked up from your textbook as you heard Joshua’s voice. The two of you were supposed to be working on a project your professor had assigned you for the week. As you looked into his eyes, his small smile irked you just enough to complain: “Can’t you ask like a normal person? If you did, then maybe I would be free.”

Before he could respond, you began to work on the assignment once again.

Jun

“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

You had lost track of the amount of times Jun had used different pick-up lines throughout the day. It started when you first saw each other today, and it hasn’t stopped since. While it was endearing for you, you could also see the annoyance building up from your friends. With a quick laugh, you leaned into his ear to whisper, “I would stop before one of them ends up punching you.”

Soonyoung

“This date is like a big bowl of Frosted Flakes. It’s grrrrrrrrreat!”

When Soonyoung said this to you, you couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe it was because of his complete seriousness as he looked you straight in the eyes, or maybe it was because of the silence that filled the room before. Either way, you weren’t expecting him to tell you a stupid pick-up line.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you were finally able to ask as your laughs began to calm down.

Wonwoo

“Good thing I have a library card, because I'm checking you out.”

Maybe it was because you were at the library that this was so cheesy, but you don’t think it would change much. He quickly moved to continue browsing through the books on the shelves; however, you could see a hint of blush lie across his cheeks. It made you smile.

“Ya’ know,” you began, “if you didn’t read books, then this would have been more awkward.”

Jihoon

“To quote the poet Lee Woozi, ‘Even if my lips are dry, I need to say this, baby: I adore you.’”

“Did you just use your own song to try to pick me up?” you said as you attempted to close the door to his studio. You had just ran to get some snacks from the convenience store before the two of you worked on music for the night, so your hands were filled with snacks. After watching you struggle a bit with the door, Jihoon got out of his chair to close the door for you. You whispered a small ‘thanks’ before setting them down on the table.

Seokmin

“I thought happiness started with ‘h,’ but turns out it begins with ‘u.’”

“And my happiness begins with ‘seok’ and ends with ‘min,’” you laughed as you brought the cup of coffee to your lips. Looking up from your cup, you saw Seokmin’s bright smile at your joke; however, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by it. “That joke was so awkward. I’m sorry.”

Mingyu

“Can I get your soccer jersey? I really want your name and number.”

At first, the line went over your head. One, you don’t play soccer. Two, Mingyu already had both your name and number. Three, why would Mingyu even use a pick-up line while talking to you? Though, the longer you took to respond, the more he began to pout.

As you watched him sulk, you came to the realisation quickly, “Oh, wait, that pick-up line was directed at me?”

Minghao

“Are you a parking ticket? Cause you've got fine written all over you.”

Minghao’s face was distraught, almost as if he was currently questioning his sanity. The sight of it was comedic. You slowly began to laugh at the situation, asking the question, “Who dared you to say that?”

Once you asked that, you could see the relief on his face.

Seungkwan

“If you're a fruit, you'd be a fine-apple.”

“Damn, does that mean it’s cannibalism for me to eat pineapples,” you said as you picked a bunch of bananas. You and Seungkwan had been shopping for your groceries for the week as you had just run out of cooking ingredients. After checking the quality of the bananas, you put them in the cart you were pushing around. “Good thing I like tangerines then.”

Vernon

“Did I tell you I'm filthy rich and my mother's dead?”

“Okay, yeah, that is pretty bad,” you admitted as you picked up a piece of chocolate. The two of you had been reading through lists of pick-up lines to try to find the worst one. At first, it started as a bit of a competition, but you had slowly lost the competitiveness of it. Scrolling through your phone, you tried to find one that was just as bad to beat Vernon’s. “What about this one…”

Chan

“Math is so confusing. It's always talking about x and y and never you and I.”

“I know that was a pick-up line, but I feel like using the variables ‘u’ and ‘i’ would make it worse, “ you said as you finished up the math problem in your textbook. Chan laughed as he grabbed a pencil sharpener from your pencil case. “No, like, seriously. Imagine writing them even just a little bit differently then, all of sudden, it is a 0 or a 1.”

mirajane’s rambles! i actually have no idea how i did this in a couple hours. my found this website where they were referring to pick-up lines as “rizz” lines, and i spiralled lmao. i had fun tho

happy valentine’s and carat day, everyone! <33

all likes/reblogs/comments are appreciated!

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pomegranate-pen · 3 months

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Daym sis !! It took you this long to finally do your reqs ? Better late than never ig, ok but fr tho I’m glad you’ve decided to do your reqs for lackadaisy. Cause I was starting to worry !! So I’m glad your ok <33

Anyways, may I req a Rocky Rickaby x rich (closer to a billionaire) Fem! or gn! reader headcannons? Who is kinda polar opposite to Rocky? They’re kind, social, friendly yet calm, reserved, secretive and kinda mysterious because of their status? And it’s not like they got this money from some distant cousin, they had to work hard.

I can also see them spoiling Rocky in little, subtle ways. Like when his violin is broken from his rumrunning, the reader gifts him with a new one, and despite having no note to specify who exactly gave it to him, he can probably guess who it is. Can this also be like a friends to lovers kind of thing? That’d be cool.

Btw u dont have to do this if u dont wanna, or u can do this later, No pressure ! Make sure to take care of yourself, take breaks and have a wonderful day !!!

Rocky Rickaby x rich!gn!Reader headcanons

A/n: what?? Pomegranate pen actually keeping her promise and releasing something at a weekend?? That's impossible!!! Nsjwjwjwjw anyway, hi dear anon!! Tysm for requesting, I will admit, this was very fun to write,especially since I really missed writing for lackadaisy these few days. Thanks for requesting!! I hope you enjoy this!!

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Maintaining a bountiful fortune costs your time, soul and trust and in the world where greed overtakes all morals people have, you always need to be careful on whom you let see your weakness, whom you let see your heart.

So safe to say, you weren’t so keen on trusting a place so deeply rumoured as the lackadaisy speakeasy, let alone become a sponsor of it.

Or at least, that was the case before you met the infamous bootlegger of the place, Rocky Rickaby when he suddenly crashed face first with your car in a farmer's field late in the night. You truly thought he was dead at that moment, you were certain you just accidentally killed someone late into the night because the exhaustion of your soul-consuming meetings finally caught up to you. but then as you got out of the car, as you tried to reevaluate the situation and tried to find any sort of farm or shelter that you could ask help from, a sudden groan of pain gets your attention. The grey cat looks at you with the wooziest eyes and the silliest of grins.

One of his hands shakily goes up to point at you. “…has the nightingale sent her prettiest angel to take me away?” His voice was anything but coherent. “…why I must be quite the lucky…poet..”

As relief washes over you to the fact that he’s breathing, at the very least, you notice a nasty wound opening up on his head, a bit of blood ready to gush out of it. then you notice the box of what seems to be bottles of moonshine that spilled with him as he was running away.

Before you could think of anything else- you hear grunts, gunshots and yells from across the fields, and in that moment of flight or fight, you grab onto the concerningly lanky cat and drive away.

Through all your yells to yourself about literally taking an injured stranger into your car and running away, you also realized why you felt such an urge. Your brain has seemed to connect the dots.whoever this guy was, it was obvious his job was the unsavoury kind, a bootlegger. An occupation you remember having a long time ago, a job you remember being your worst. Perhaps,you’ve felt sympathy for the guy and decided to save him before things got deadly.

Nevertheless, with an abundance of self-deprecation and worry for what will be the outcome of your quick and on-pressure decision, you took him to your house.

Maids and servants alike gasped in horror when they saw their boss caryying a man who looks like he took a deep swim in the mud, blood trickling down his blue suit and staining your own clothing. You quickly ask for their aid and bring him to the fireplace, let the maids patch him up while you get a proper change of clothes and soothing tea as well.

The servants urge you to go to bed, to be rest assured that when the mysterious lanky cat wakes up they’ll be there to explain everything to him. Yet, you could not let anyone face the burdens of your silly and perhaps bad decision (though some of your employees commented that you could be deemed heroic in a certain lens. “some might even say a tad romantic!” a certain person with a known interest for romance novels added. You dismissed it all.)

You decided to stay the night sitting by the arm-chair next to the couch he laid on, awaiting his clarity while taking a small nap yourself. With a grunt and roll of their eyes,some from amusement and others from worry, they brought a blanket and a pillow and left you be. Next to the lanky, drifted asleep and bad-shape cat that was covered in bandages.

You were expecting at least a decent night’s sleep, since there’d be no way he’d be able to wake up quickly after the day he’s been through.his body would definitely take its time in recovery. What you hadn’t expected, was hearing rustling and shifts in the night, ones you dismissed as servants just shifted around to finish up the last of their tasks, but then hearing creaks, stumbles and the sound of something clunking and shattering on the ground before finally, a creak of a window opening. That is when your eyes immediately opened, and you were met with the cat who was hit with your car tangled up in his own bandages trying to make an escape. You both froze for a moment. Him, being midway out with his escape, his hand still latched on the window, and you, still in your armchair with a frazzled expression.

“uh…sorry about that….” His eyes trail to the ground.”statue?...” he gives a nervous grin while pointing at the shattered artifact.he then looks up and gives a nervous chuckle. “and the torn drapes.” He then looks around again and winces. “annnnd the shattered vase.”

After that failed attempt to escape seemed futile, you brought him back in and briefly explained the situation. Rocky told you his side of the story- though, with a few skipped parts and avoiding to get into details about what specifically failed so spectacularly in his task to retrieve some booze.

You talk for a little while, giving some small brief summaries about who you are and what you do, and gleefully answering some silly questions Rocky had about your status. You found yourself enjoying your talk with Rocky, talking to someone who's so incredibly lively. You've been around soulless businessmen for so long that you almost forgot what it’s like to actually speak to a person, to forget about status and money, to not read between the lines of every sentence someone utters. You finally felt like yourself for a moment, like something about Rocky’s eccentricities and unhinged nature has rejuvenated your soul.

Yet, as Rocky looks back at the clock, he quickly gets up to leave, needing to go back to his work before anyone assumes he’s dead. You tried to convince him to stay a while longer, to sleep for the night so he can heal up. yet he didn’t falter. He quickly put on his coat and hat, looking at you with a charming smile. He tilts his hat, giving a small bow before graciously saying goodbye.

What he hadn’t noticed, was that your eyes trailed his clothing for a moment and noticed something intriguing. Something that could hint at where he truly works at. A small pin, in the shape of a club.

After that, a few weeks have passed by before you decide to finally visit. Your main reason was to just make sure he’s okay and that his injury has finally healed up. yet a part of you knew that you were also deeply curious about him, and had felt the urge to know more about his life. Perhaps, he’ll rise the ranks like you did. Or maybe just like old co-workers of yours at the bootlegging game, he’ll get himself into deep trouble.

Nonetheless, you visited the Lackadaisy speakeasy. The place you heard a cacophony of rumours and chats about, yet never visited it yourself. The empty mine with dark lights engulfed in the room left a lot to be desired. something was missing, something crucial that was holding the whole place up together. The very few guests that were there however, were noneother than the wife of Atlas May and…

“…Wick Sable?!”

Wick chokes on his drink, tail frizzing up in distress as his ears perk up and take a note of the familiarity of that voice. He coughs out the drink he was meaning to enjoy (even if it’s taste wasn’t really in the highest of tiers in terms of ‘enjoyable’), looking at you with a stressed smile. “ah…L/n..what an unexpected surprise.”

Depending on your relationship with Wick, this interaction could go in three ways. If you're good friends, he’d have to suffer a bit with both your teasing and Mitzi's about not telling you about his frequent trips here. If you're mere acquaintances, then though he’d have to suffer only Mitzi's teasing about him being so secretive about his visits, he’d still be forced to explain his relationship with the place to you over a few drinks. If you’re known to be rivals or enemies, well, not only would he be utterly displeased by the idea of you finding his go-to bar, but what would irk him more would be how Mitzi will try to make you a regular patron around here. often shutting up any sort of jab or retort Wick has to your musings and letting you have control over the conversation.

As you start getting accustomed to the ambiance of the mine and the piercing galre of the bartender, the man of the hour-well, your hour, at least, comes in. this time with his suit only a tiny bit ruined by dirt and tears, but still not as bad as his awful state when you first found him.

His eyes beam when he sees you, and he immediately starts flirting with lines of poetry and song while he shoves the cart of illicit beverages he found into a small orange cat;s hands and takes the abandoned violin that was on the bar counter to strum up a tune.

Everyone expected him to be flat out rejected, to be ignored and maybe even weird out the new patron. But low and behold, the new patron merely giggled and smiled, matching his playful energy and cheeky jokes.

Safe to say, everyone’s jaw was dropped, while Rocky himself was beaming with joy and pride.

After that, you’ve become a regular at the speakeasy.often visiting the place to mainly speak with Rocky and develop a nice friendship with him.

Your conversations with him were always insightful, since he was the very clear opposite of you. While you were known in society for your calm demeanour in different matters (often preferring to panic in the inside rather than out.), Rocky was known to be loud and spontaneous. No one knew how on earth you two got along so well, but you somehow did. He was able to bring charm and joy to a conversation, something that you desperately missed from your old life. While you were able to become the reasonable one in the relationship, often convincing Rocky to avoid causing some disastrous chaos that would’ve left the speakeasy in shambles.

Rocky’s clumsiness and acts of chaos has left him with more injuries and broken things than he can count. It’s something that you took note of immediately, and whenever you’d see his clothes, your heart would often ache for him. But you knew Rocky. You knew he wouldn’t accept something you bought with your own money, that though he’d act grateful, he’d somehow make some gleeful excuse to try to avoid taking it. And so, you’ve decided with the help of a few delivery boys to send these gifts to him anonymously instead.

Now, though in everyone else’s eyes, Rocky doesn’t look changed at all, the keen observer would notice his new and clean clothes, and his violin of fine-quality and craftsmanship.

You’d often rant about your job with Rocky. Especially when you had had enough drinks in your system to forget the poised and strong demeanour you must uphold. Ever since you reached the top of the board, you’ve become a fish out of water. You cannot relate nor have any sort of fun with the people you’re often forced to speak with. Especially since the people in question are known to be incredibly judgemental and gossip-obsessed.Rocky would always hear your whines and try to cheer you up with a song, or maybe a funny story he can tell about another dangerous and concerning adventure he had for the day. Since he noticed how you always smile when he rambles on and on, and though you often give him a concerned glance, you never stop listening to him with a smile.

Another way you try to help Rocky is by helping the speakeasy itself, since you know how much it means to him. You sponsor the place and try to help Mitzi when she’s in any sort of financial difficulty, and you try to strum up some business by making your clients and fellow businessmen have meetings in the speakeasy.

This has created a sort of conundrum for the guests you bring. Because unknown to their own knowledge, they're often the same people you rant about all the time to Rocky. And so, Rocky always has the urge to somehow scare and intimidate them with his insanity. He treats them just as he treats Wick, sometimes even worse. He jabs, he nudges and he pretty much freaks them out when you’re too distracted talking about the business at hand to even notice his actions. And the worst part is, whenever you do look up, Rocky immediately stops his actions and gives you a charmed smile and innocent wink. As if he’s been as innocent as an angel the entire time.

After a while, it didn’t take long for your maids to realize that Rocky wasn’t just some simple friend to you, but in fact, someone you’re into. And they made this theory of theirs become known to you when they suddenly start asking for details about your day at the speakeasy, specifically your hangouts with Rocky. You try to deny it at first, but you couldn’t help but admit that something about Rocky was different from others. To you, your friendship with Rocky was an entirely new and incredible experience, an experience that you cherish deeply, and…you wouldn’t mind for it to become something more.

So,you start initiating the flirtations, ones that Rocky immediately answers back with equal amounts of enthusiasm. Slowly but surely, your hangouts have become dates, and your rants have become more personal.

soon enough, and in the other’s point of view, shockingly so, you two have become a couple. An incredibly cheesy one at that.

For a moment, everyone thought perhaps this was a sugar baby type of situation. That was until they all wondered what on earth could their lackluster bootlegger and not-half-bad violinist Rocky Rickaby offer in the sugar baby aspect of it all? they all came out with an utterly empty answer. However, though the relationship was far from such a thing, it doesn’t mean you don’t like showering Rocky with gifts all the time. Especially since you firmly believe he deserves at least some sort of nice luxury in his life. You’d often try to do the same old trick of anonymously gifting them, but he has caught you once in the act, and with a bountiful amount of kisses has convinced you to drop the whole act.

Rocky may at first be in somewhat of a denial for such attention. Though he will gawk, be giddy and awe-struck about the amount of gifts he is receiving, a part of him would also somehow feel guilty for it. like he doesn’t deserve such nice things in life. it’s a guilt that you quickly scold him for, and as punishment by even more gifts for him than before.

Though you are of high-status, both you and Rocky still prefer dates in the dark streets of Mississippi rather than any luxurious restaurant. You once tried to go to one of course, but the night has ended with the kitchen going on fire and Rocky somehow freeing all the lobsters from their tanks. Nevertheless, it was still a great night, one where you couldn’t help but laugh in pure freedom because you felt all the societal pressure in your shoulders wash away. It didn't matter who the guests were in that restaurant, it was of no importance what they whispered about you or your partner whom you wouldn’t trade for the world. All that mattered was you and Rocky, dancing under the stars as rain started to pour.

Teasing Wick has become a mutual activity for you two. An activity Mitzi even joins in from time to time. Lord knows how many jabs Wick has to put up with whenever you both are at the speakeasy at the same time (which unfortunately for him, is quite the common occurrence.) it’s gotten to the point where whenever he sees you two together he gives out an exhausted sigh and asks Viktor to give him a stronger drink.

There are times where Rocky wonders if he’s worth it. times where the stink eyes and glances of high society get in his head a bit and he wonders if he’s truly worth all the reputational risk you’re putting yourself through. Those are the times where you must quickly go against such negative thoughts, to grab his hands and tell him firmly that he’s worth more than anything to you. though it never truly diminishes his insecurity in the matter, it does help lower it down.

You’re absolutely horrified and livid when you realize he’s living in his car. It’s something your heart breaks at and you quickly urge him to just come live with you instead. You have plenty of room to spare and would absolutely adore having him around. It’s an offer you wouldn’t let him say no to, no matter how hard he tried. You even offer to buy a house for him, if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of living with you. He quickly denies having such a thought, and in the end, he moves into your mansion.

Some maids are weirded out by him while others are a bit fearful. But they quickly learn to accommodate him, especially since he’s always bringing you into a better and happier mood. Hell, you even renovated one of the rooms to be his own workshop of sorts where he can write his poems. He never really uses it, preferring to work on his ideas with you beside him instead, but he does put some sizable amount of things in there. things he has definitely brought from his cluttered car.

Even though everyone had their fair share of surprised reactions when they finally found out you were dating, it was Aunt Nina who was the most shocked of all. she never believed Rocky could find a normal partner..let alone one that’s known for their wealth and successful businesses such as yourself. She even once wondered if Rocky has used some sort of devil witchcraft to steal your heart.

There are often times where both of you tend to falter, tend to become incredibly silent after a conversation that went wrong. You both have so many secrets you can’t share, so many thoughts and feelings that are hard to describe, let alone explain where they came from.Rocky admires you, he truly does. Because he knows you’ve worked hard for your status in the world, and that it’s normal for wealthy people to have secrets of their own. You are the same, you respect him, and know that his life wasn’t the most simple nor easiest. Yet both of you cannot help but sometimes get frustrated by the other for keeping important things a secret. You more than him, you will admit. You can’t help it. You don't want him to be in danger. But knowing how strange and unhinged his luck is, you’re certain he’s bound to get into deep trouble if he doesn’t find someone to help him. And that’s when you ask him, why can’t that someone be you? Why can’t he rely on you when he needs it? You’re not a simple person, you have more than enough resources and money to protect both you and him from any problems.

and that is when he asks why can’t you be more open to him,yet ask him for such an act? He knows very little about your family life, and there are times you skip a few stories and relationships you had with certain people you rant about. He has noticed, he just never spoke about it.and then, a chilling silence takes over the room. And you both need time to collect your thoughts before you talk.

In the end, you both reach out for each other at the same time and talk things out, and though you both know talking about each other’s past will take a lot of time and trust, you’re willing to wait for it, and will never forget that you’re by each other’s side for when you’re in need of help.

Though you both are an unexpected match for sure, that doesn’t falter the endless love and admiration you have for each other.

#lackadaisy rocky x reader #x reader #lackadaisy #lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #lackadaisy rocky rickaby #rocky rickaby #lackadaisy rocky rickaby x reader

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fairylights-throughthemist · 16 days

Text

Eddie Munson as tracks on The Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift

Fortnight

Exhusband!Eddie x Jealous!Reader

The Tortured Poets Department

Friends to Lovers to Strangers with Eddie

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Toxic!Mean!Eddie x Reader

Down Bad

Protective!Mafia!Eddie x Reader

So Long, London

Exboyfriend!Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

(Eddie and Reader have spent lots of time in London during their relationship. Now that it’s ended she never wants to return.)

But Daddy I Love Him

Dad’s Best Friend!Eddie / Older!Eddie x Reader

Fresh Out The Slammer

Ex-Con!Eddie x Reader

Florida!!!

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

(Reader’s [now ex]boyfriend cheated on her, she went to Florida on vacation to forget about him. At a local bar she meets a certain rockstar touring the country with his band.)

Guilty As Sin?

Exboyfriend!Eddie x Reader

(Eddie broke up with you, yet you can’t stop thinking about him. Not even with another man in your bed.)

Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me?

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

(Eddie and Reader just made their relationship official and his fans can’t seem to keep their mouths shut. Haters online compare you to other women he’s been seen with, they make comments about your body and they don’t think you deserve Eddie.) (This description also fits for Delicate from Reputation.)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Mafia!Eddie x Catholic / Virgin / Good Girl / Shy! Reader

loml

Exboyfriend!Eddie x Reader

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Situationship!Mean!Toxic!Eddie x Reader

The Alchemy

Hockey player!Eddie x Reader

Clara Bow

Rockstar!Eddie x Actress!Reader

(Reader always getting compared to other actresses, everyone wants her to be bigger and better than anyone before her. Eddie being the only one able to comfort her.)

The Black Dog

Exboyfriend!Eddie x Reader

imgonnagetyouback

Exboyfriend!Rockstar!Eddie x Jealous!Reader

The Albatross

Virgin!Eddie x “Slut”!Reader

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

(Eddie becoming addicted to drugs, reader trying to help him but giving up when he cheats on her.)

How Did It End?

Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

(No one caring about how you’re doing, only asking about Eddie and asking what happened.)

So High School

Best Friends to Lovers, Eddie x Reader

(Eddie and Reader playing Kiss, Marry, Kill while high, Reader naming people when it’s Eddie’s turn, one of them being herself, leading her to ask “Are you gonna marry, kiss or kill me?”)

Read the fic here!

I Hate It Here

Eddie x You

(Yes you. We all know you read to escape reality.)

thanK you aIMee

Eddie x Reader

(Based on the title, not the lyrics)

(Think All Of The Girls You Loved Before, Reader thanking one of Eddie’s exes for contributing to the amazing man he is now.)

I Look In People’s Windows

Exboyfriend!Eddie x Reader

The Prophecy

Eddie x Reader

(Post Vecna…)

Cassandra

Toxic!Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

(Reader watching Eddie’s show in the pit and getting sexually harassed / groped by some creep. Not wanting to interrupt the show or cause a scene, she keeps quiet. Anxiety and stress leading up to a breakdown, Eddie being high out of his mind asking if everything’s okay. You snap at him and tell him about the incident at his concert but he doesn’t believe you. The day after your breakdown, Eddie asks you what happened last night, after a quick recap of the events your petty boyfriend chooses not to believe you.)

Peter

Exboyfriend!Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

(Similar to Who’s Afraid Of Little Old Me. Eddie being ignorant and giving half assed advice like “Just ignore it”. He doesn’t show how much he cares due to his newfound love for drugs.)

The Bolter

Eddie x Reader

(Reader being afraid of relationships and attachment. Her trying to bolt from Eddie’s love but he doesn’t let her. Steve and Robin being supportive of Reader and Eddie’s relationship, they felt the need to tell him about her attachment style before it was too late.)

Robin

Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

The Manuscript

Exboyfriend!Eddie x Reader

A/N: This is my first time writing anything so please be nice !!!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #cowboy!eddie #joseph quinn #taylor swift #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #taylornation #the tortured poets department

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clericofgale · 10 months

Text

Spoilers for Patch 5 and the whole game.

I posted my thoughts about the new ending Gale got in patch 5 on Reddit first, but I might as well post it here with some revisions. I'll say it, I love the god Gale ending. But it is NOT his good ending to me. Before I would never have pursued it, but now it is tantalizing to say the least. I'm into it though Gale the mortal is still my preference.

"Gale Dekarios cuts a poor figure next to the wizarding prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep. You like so many things about me I'd have sooner discarded…"

By ascending Gale, you are killing Gale Dekarios. The nerd that hits on you in front of everyone while you're covered in zombie blood, procced to infodump an entire tangent to complement you, and yet somehow stick the landing to hit you with the most romantic poetry you've ever heard. A sensitive man who wears his emotions on his sleeve and wants to make the world a more beautiful place. An artist of the weave and a poet. The owner of the most overbearing tressym in the world. The moment the spell was complete, Gale Dekarios died and Gale the divine was born.

Even then, why is god Gale now so enticing to me unlike ascended Astarion? Because he loves you. He wants you by his side as an equal. It's actually sweet and romantic, just like all of Gale's romance is. I'm nothing if not a sucker for a romance.

"Follow my Lead" "Show me more. Show me it all." "I want you to seize the crown and make us a new world"

BeMyGod is the name in the data file for the boat scene where Gale asks you if you'll be with him when he seizes the crown. I know file names can be arbitrary, but if you agree to his proposal, you really are asking Gale to be your god. It's so easy to say yes. You're in the stars, Gale says I want to show you so much more, but it's not worth it without you. All you need to do is say yes. You're angry at Mystra who demanded so much of Gale, caused him such suffering and won't lift a finger to help. So You say yes. You love him. He loves you.

When Gale ascends, even in 6 months he is a different entity. The devs indicate: "His posture/demeanor here should feel slightly more aloof/detached than the regular Gale - he's been immortal for six months, his ego is as powerful as his magic. The real Gale's insecurities still lurk beneath his godlike confidence, as does his love for the player, but this is clearly a Gale setting out on a darker path."

The Gale here is a twisted version of the one we loved. His flaws are worse, he good traits have mostly disappeared. Namely his kindness and tolerance to deprecating humor. He no longer tolerates any perceived slight or jab. He doesn't let go of his bitterness towards Mystra. His ego is large yet fragile. You saw a glimpse of it at the ritual circle scene if you succeed in upstaging him in magic. Now it's only gotten worse. Yes even his insecurity. If you rejected him after accepting the proposal, Gale says this.

Tav: No, I think it's the end. What happened to the man I once loved? Gale: He's the god he deserves to be. I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I'm not good enough for you?

He's also lonelier than ever. His last 6 months were in isolation, with nobody he could trust while dealing with the crown and celestial politics. Immortals don't really have friends. They have allies and lovers. He stops talking to his mother who was so dear to him. He develops a spell to polymorph people into Tara, his oldest friend who rejects him after ascension. He then develops a spell that summons Shadowdark ale and forces people to dance and be happy, just like the vignette he told you about the Yawning Portal. The third spell is Power word: Ruin. he's finally back to speaking death into being with a single word, just like he used to.

Gale wanted to be a god to make a better world, but now he's a neutral god answering prayers from any alignment. He doesn't care if they are Thayan wizards aiming for lichdom or unscrupulous Amnian merchants. Ambition is a neutral idea. Ambition also drives healers to develop a cure. For adventurers to slay monsters.

What's the most noticeable remaining good trait in Gale? Gale still loves you. He's much nicer to you if romanced. He refuses to be with you if you don't go with him because he doesn't want to hurt you. He admires your good heart if you want to honor the pact with Raphael. He calls you my love just like before. He will fulfill the promise sealed that night in the astral sea. All you have to do is say yes. And the ascension cinematic is a callback to the romance scenes from before.

"Follow my lead. Close your eyes. I have so much more to show you."

And you know what. I'll go with you. Even if we will eventually lose both our humanity in our folly, and dreams become nightmares. Even if I'll come to regret that night when I said yes to the mortal you, I don't want you to be lonely. Where ever you go, I'll go. You'll always have me. And I'll always have you.

As God Gale would say… "A toast then, to our myriad ambitions. May we each get what we deserve."

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #god gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #Gale thoughts #Love makes fools of us all #Frankly I think the fact his love is genuine is genius #1k+ words

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bberetd · 4 months

Note

If you were the wedding planner of a Luiasy wedding how would you arrange it? What would the location be? What would the theme of the wedding be? And what extras would you add towards the outfits of the bride and groom?

Aaaaahhh this took me forever to get to 😭 @kelbreyworshipper I’ll be real with you, when you sent me this ask, I was walking to my chem final, and I read your prompt and I was like “ummmmm 😳”

Buuut I think it’s safe to say I had enough time to cook, plus it was a fun challenge, so I hope you enjoy this! It's pretty long, so read at your own pace hehe

@peaches2217 (hopefully this lifts your spirits <3) @vulpixfairy1985 @itsavee4117 @supergay-64 @pepperycar @silenzahra, I think you guys may also like this! And @artycomicfangirl you as well!

First of all, I’ve chosen this day in particular to post the becaaauuuseeee…

Today (or yesterday wherever you are) is/was the one-year anniversary of my very first Luaisy drawing! BOY how far we’ve come. Now without further ado…

= LUAISY WEDDING =

This wedding was months in the making. Peach and Mario self-appointed themselves (even though it was obvious from the get-go) to the maid of honor and best man, so they worked tirelessly to ensure everything was perfect and better.

Each Mario lady had an essential part to play in this wedding:

Peach Maid of honor. Her role was to find the best venue for the wedding and send out invites to the Mushroom Kingdom and the other kingdoms within Sarasaland. But Peach being Peach with her overenthusiasm for weddings, carried 95% of the wedding planning and wedding day on her back. Of course, everyone gave her her flowers in the end. Mario definitely made sure she knew she was appreciated

Daisy was a 5'11" sack of nerves for her wedding, so Peach took it in her hands to calm her down, assuring her that it was completely normal to feel that way, and had to keep reminding her of how much Luigi loved her and that he wants this as much as she does. She also reminded Daisy that she should be elated because this is her special day. Peach would know all about it. ;)

Peach ran through the wedding, had multiple (maybe more than needed) rehearsals, and coordinated the wedding dinner that Daisy and Luigi would have.

Pauline Bridesmaid, wedding designer, and performer. I headcanon Pauline to be the most fluent in fashion and designing among the Mario ladies, and it was her who Peach took sewing up. Peach invited Pauline to a lot of her and Daisy's shopping trips for wedding dresses, getting her advice on what would suit her and Luigi's taste for their wedding day.

Pauline also performed at their wedding, doing solo performances, and then concluding with her band.

Rosalina Bridesmaid and vow writer. Even though Rosa is not a woman of many words, when she does have something to say, people are listening.

Out of the ladies, she's the biggest bookworm, spending time in her observatory reading and writing when she can. This makes her an amazing poet. All her close friends find it hard to believe that she doesn't have a significant other. She has shared some of her poems with her friends, and it was a wonder how none of them fell in love with her.

But Daisy called her up (or down) to help her write her vows, and Rosa was more than happy to help. She helped her organize her thoughts and feelings for Luigi and what their relationship truly meant to her. Rosa also helped to plan, outline, revise, and maybe wrote some parts of it herself.

She oversaw all parts of the writing process, yet, when Daisy recited those words back to Luigi on their wedding day, she reacted as if it were her very first time hearing it; tears in her eyes and hands clasped together. She was so proud.

Toadette Bridesmaid and master chef. And even better... free of charge! She was cooking up a storm with the help of other Toad chefs for Daisy and Luigi's special day. The two still provided her and her crew a very generous tip (Luigi is loaded here).

=====

Mario

Best man. With Mario and Luigi, it was pretty much the same story with Peach and Daisy, except Luigi was ten times worse. It took Mario a great deal of effort and convincing Luigi to not call off the wedding, just because of the mere thought of Daisy possibly having second thoughts.

Mario did everything a typical best man would do at a wedding and more, making sure everything was in order, and not a single detail was out of place. Right before, during, and after the wedding, he used at least 3 full rolls of tissue paper.

Another thing on the performance line-up... I'm gonna go ahead and yoink @silenzahra's musician bros hc and say that Mario does a surprise performance for Luigi and Daisy. It’s a song that is a testament to his and Luigi’s bond, which obviously immediately gets Luigi choked up.

As Mario was singing and playing the guitar, it felt so wrong for Mario to be singing their song on his own, so Luigi joined him on the stage, grabbing a mic left behind from Pauline's band group and singing alongside him. Cue forehead touches, and lots of hugging, crying, and ‘I love you’s.

====

Wedding Location and Theme

I 100% believe that their wedding would take place outside. Daisy and Luigi wanted a large, open space with a nice landscape view with not too many manmade buildings. So uh, Brooklyn was out of the question, not that they minded. Daisy decided to make use of the Chai Kingdom (one of the four Kingdoms in Sarasaland) and its naturistic feel.

And then the post-wedding dinner and performances would all take place here:

(Basically, just imagine all of this but green and orange-themed lol)

As for the theme, I feel that they’d go with a fairytale-themed wedding! That, or a forest-themed wedding; green and orange are earthy colors, so I want their wedding to reflect that.

Again, yoinking @silenzahra's Luigi the bookworm hc, I’d like to think that one of the ways Luigi and Daisy grew closer was from reading together, and the National Book Days in Sarasaland. Once Daisy got more into reading, Luigi encouraged her to venture out in her castle’s library and find some genres that she liked. They both noticed that she seemed to gravitate towards stories that were more adventure-packed, as well as fairytales, mythological, and fictional stories. Daisy has a very active imagination and loves otherworldly visuals, so Luigi was more than happy to incorporate that into their wedding theme.

The bridesmaids and maid of honor are decked in golden dresses (for ya girl), and the groomsmen and best man are decked in emerald green (for ya boy). For the wedding guests’ attire… there is not a single trace of black to be found! The wedding looked like a rainbow that threw up all the colors in the visible spectrum.

====

Have some drawings of the important people! (and my wacky attempt to shade gold material)

Bridesmaids: Pauline and Rosalina

To honor Pride Month… let’s just say Rosa is looking for that special someone… right beside her ;)

Lumas

I’m adding the Lumas (plus Lumalee of course!) to be the flower children! The wedding would be decked with 75-100 lumas of all different colors and purposes. They would be the ambiance for the wedding, especially when the sun sets, and at nighttime. The wedding would still use fairy lights in case the Lumas didn't cooperate (was never an issue). But... just imagine dozens of bright moving lights with sparkles trailing behind them in the night sky.

Groomsmen, Ring Bearer, Maid of Honor and Best Man (tumblr has me on a pic limit here 😮‍💨): Wario, Waluigi, and Toad; Yoshi; Mario and Peach

Yeah, Wario and Waluigi were invited, as long as they promised to behave. And if not, Daisy and her family will set em straight… and Mario if they even dare think about ruining his baby brother’s day. The two weren’t so fond of the dress code at first, but they sucked it up. Eventually, emerald green grew on them.

Wario: I look like a leprechaun!

Waluigi: Wah! How bad can this possibly be? (Iykyk)

Also, the tie Mario is wearing was handcrafted by Luigi when they were kids. ;’)

And of course…

Bride and Groom: Daisy and Luigi

She on dem high heels 🤭

I also really wanted to draw Daisy’s dad sending her off. I absolutely LOVE @itsavee4117’s interpretation of him (aka King “Marshmallow” Cris), so I’m yoinking him here toooo~

====

Post-Wedding

Like I said earlier, plenty of food will be provided by Toadette and her crew, and there will be endless games. They would mostly be Mario Party-styled, but there would also be some sports like tennis or mini-golf. That all happens after the newlyweds have their dance and cake. Let’s just say for an itty-bitty second of time, they recreate the dance of all dances.

After all the fun has been had, the two are driven into the moonlight by Toadsworth with a “JUST HITCHED” sign on the back of his Parade Kart from MK Double Dash. They’d be transported in this very familiar fashion.

;)

====

And that’s it! Hopefully I didn’t make the wedding seem too boring or sane for them, or made anything out of character for them. I know I did a lot more than you asked for, but I had way too much fun with it lol. Wanted to do our beloveds justice to the fullest. Let me know what you guys think, and feel free to add on to it!

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asherthehimbo · 15 days

Text

Guardians

previous | Pearl ° | m. list | next

synopsis: when Yeosangs sickness worsens, the Hala-pack are forced to stay in unkown territory, all because their wolves had affections for the towns local doctor. They hope this doctor knows how to treat fish because Yeosang needs help, and his brothers are desperate.

word count: 8.3k (and 4 pictures)

warnings: Cursing, blood, knives(daggers), treating of wounds, treating of sickness, talks of death, screaming, possesive behavior kind of?, blood (obv cause wounds), suggestive thoughts (Mingi needs to FOCUS), mentions of torn snouts, old scars, uhm i think thast it?

notes: to those who don't know what a poet shirt is this is the specific shirt I'm referencing, Also PLEASE read the section named 'Guardians knowledge' for better understanding of refrences in the book itself before reading this chapter thank youuu (Guardians book of knowledge was DEFINITELY inspired by the books in the 'Grimm' series so anybody who watches that HIIIIII), also PLEASE remember to read the Creature lore to understand some things as this IS a fantasy book with my own lore for some creatures thank youuuu

Placing the clear, blue rimmed glass down on the placement cloth in front of you, you throw the drying cloth in your hands on your shoulder. Long white hair tied up lazily at the back of your head, white poet shirt hanging off your shoulders, its strings by your chest having been loosened the moment you bid farewell to your last patron for the night. Your necklace consisting of a dull orange fire stone remains barely concealed beneath your white shirt, its chain placed comfortingly around your neck. The angle your shirt is sitting may expose more of your chest than you would usually feel comfortable with showing in public, but currently it's only you and the Choi’s at the tavern.

‘Moon Tavern’ - the tavern you own- is open 24/7 on weekends, but closes at 11 pm on weeknights, for you have to ensure those on your side of the land, those in your village are ready the next morning for their duties. Unfortunately for your regulars it's a Thursday night, meaning closing time. Meaning cleaning up duty for you and those on your shift. You turn your head and scan around you, looking down both sides of the bar counter to ensure no glasses or coasters are left laying around before your eyes trail to the middle of the tavern where the Choi’s sit waiting for you.

Choi Beomgyu, a young man of 22 who you met when he was only 17, being banished to Obsidian, due to his seeing abilities, when the war came to an end, he became your second ever apprentice. Next to him sits Choi Yeonjun at the age of 24, a snake shifter who followed his friend all the way from their homeland and ended up right in your welcoming embrace.

They both work as waiters at the tavern, sometimes even performing with the band, always insisting on helping you close when you man the bar on night shifts- but never doing the same for your co-owner, you know the reason but pay it no mind.

Cracking your neck before stretching your hands above your head, your back curls in as your chest pushes out, causing the strings of your shirt to loosen even more. Beomgyu wolf-whistles from where he sits as Yeonjun starts chastising you for your actions. “I've told you so many times that that's not healthy Boss, if you’re having pain problems again you need to let Niki or Gyu look at you.” Yeonjun looks at you with a mock scolding gaze.

You scoff, finishing your stretch before looking at the boy- not man, boy because compared to someone of your age that is what he is, a boy, one of your boys. “And I've told you many times not to call me Boss, guess neither of us listen to the other'' you bite back before removing the cloth from your shoulder, placing it on the drying pole attached to the bottom of the bar counter on your end.

“Touche” Yeonjun replies as both he and Beomgyu stand up while you walk out from behind the bar, picking up your jacket and keys that was on the counter, the three of you start walking to the front door as you turn off all the lanterns you walk by, “well, I, for one, was delighted by the show given- so I humbly thank you” Beomgyu gives an over dramatic bow as he speaks, causing Yeonjun to roll his eyes and your lips to quirk up ever so slightly.

The three of you walk until you're outside the tavern, you make sure to lock it before you continue walking, there's a cold breeze tonight, almost calming as it nips at the parts of your exposed skin, the boys behind you shiver and snuggle more into their own jackets as they walk, one on each side of you, you on the other hand do not falter in your steps. Despite your love of warmth you've grown quite accustomed to the cold nights that seem to accompany the dark sky of Obsidian.

You reach the part in your path where you and the boys should split, while they live more to the center of the town, in a neighborhood along with the rest of your pack, your home is located on the outskirts next to the river that separates your land between its two regions. You turn to say goodbye but catch Beomgyu staring at you in a worried manner, his eyes glowing a faint- barely noticeable purple “The water will shine a luminous blue tonight as nature’s soldier will be hurt, and the singers rock will form” you tilt your head inquisitively but when he doesn't say anything else you leave it be.

Seers cannot control the amount of information they are given and Beomgyu would've told you if there was something else. You nod your head in understanding before placing your hand on his shoulder, you look down at him and smile in a reassuring way, “I’ll be safe, don’t worry my little videns “ Beomgyu’s head tilts to rest on your hand at your words.

“I don’t know if I’m fine with letting you walk home alone now..” Yeonjun looks like he’s contemplating following you as he bites the inside of his cheek but you quickly shut him down, “Jun, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, you two need to get home, you have a shift tomorrow morning”. Yeonjun huffs “Yeah with Tea-moo, I don’t think either of us really mind being late for that one” he rolls his eyes as his arms are crossed over his chest, pouting like a child. “He’s still your leader Jun, you should respect him” you scold the boy, knowing your words won't have any impact now as they hadn't before, not on this topic.

“You’re our leader Boss, he’s the guy who you let be the leader and we both know it.” Yeonjun’s distaste for Tea-moo was never a secret, it caused a lot of tension in your pack, but neither he nor Tea-moo made an effort to fix the strain. “Jun I’m not having this conversation again.” you reply sternly, “I’m going home, you two need to do the same. Niki is probably waiting for you and I don’t want him staying up too late we have lessons tomorrow”

Niki, your first apprentice, your little shadow dragon, your son. He lives with you most of the time but often spends nights over at the Choi’s, the three of them act like brothers and it comforts your heart to know they have each other. You’re currently busy teaching Niki everything you know as the boy wants to follow in your footsteps, become a healer and not a destroyer as shadow dragons are often depicted.

“Fine, but if anything feels wrong even in the slightest the you scream, alright” Yeonjun needs that reassurance at least. “I doubt something to that extent will happen Jun”, you don’t want to promise him you would, because a banshee’s scream is a deafening one, it’s not something to be used lightly and something you've only used a handful of times. “Promise me” he does not relent.

“If it gets to that extent, I will scream to alert you.” You nod to him and his tense shoulders seem to relax a little. As Beomgyu lifts his head from your hand on his shoulder both of them come closer to hug you as a goodbye. You hate lying, but you know you won't scream, to resort to such measures is simply not something you're capable of doing. You’ve only used your scream once in your life, and you dread something of the like happening again.

You watch as they walk the opposite direction, walking as one, two halves of a whole. A feeling of contentment stirs in you, despite whatever Beomgyu’s vision foretold you know they’ll be safe, and that's all you could ask for.

“No”, Mingi’s voice is firm, almost angry sounding as his jaw clenches in an effort to not yell at the others in the room. “I told you all, he’s mine-'' his words are interrupted with Yunho’s introjection of "ours” ‘-He’s ours, I’m not bringing you guys to him.” Mingi finishes.

He’s standing with his back leaning against the wall, everyone is gathered in the kitchen, most sitting, except for Yunho- who's standing right next to Mingi- and San who's standing behind Wooyoung. “Mingi, Yeosang is sick, he needs help and it’s something nobody here knows how to deal with. We can’t travel with him in this condition so we are stuck on this island- one that isn't our territory. You say this guy is a doctor, he might know how to help. San’s knowledge of herbs can only get us so far.” Hongjoongs voice is calm as he tries to reason with Mingi, but you can hear the sharp edge of authority it holds as he sits at the head of the table.

“A human doctor, yes, how do we know he’ll be able to help Yeosang?” Yunho’s voice isn’t as strained with anger as Mingi’s, but you can hear his hesitance. ”He lives in a region known for harboring two of the most regal packs, I’m quite sure he’s probably aware of our species, may have even encountered many, he may know at least something that could help us, or point us in the direction of someone who could.” Seonghwa says as he sits beside Hongjoong, his voice flows calm, a sharp contrast to their leaders iciness’ Seonghwas reflects the warmth that’s permanently buried in his chest, but everyone can tell he’s just as worried about Yeosang.

Yunho’s stomach churns at the idea of you having met, let alone interacted with other supernatural creatures as Mingi lets out a low grumble in discontempt. “Listen, I know you guys have some weird possession kink or something over this guy, but Yeosang needs help. Do you really want him to die simply because you couldn't control your jealousy for a few hours?” Jongho asks, annoyed and his words cut deep.

Yunho turns to Mingi, while Yunho may be hesitant he doesn't want Yeosang to die. But Mingi has known you longer, there's a sort of seniority there, Yunho knows how much you mean to Mingi. Fuck you mean just as much to him, but he knows how Mingi’s mind works, he knows he’s not the one that gets to make this decision. Mingi in turn is stone faced, but Yunho can tell he’s conflicted. “Just for a check up? Nothing more?” Mingi asks, voice seeking confirmation in the same vulnerable way a child would from a parent, and the whole room takes a breath of relief.

“Only a check up, we only want to know if he can figure out what’s going on with Yeosang” Hongjoong confirms. After a moment of silence, and another shared look with Yunho, Mingi speaks again “Fine, but you let me and Yunho go in first, explain to him the situation. He doesn't know about us, about this, I want to explain to him first, I need to. Need to have him hear it from me”

The others all nod in agreement as they move to get ready to take Yeosang to your place. Mingi can’t help the anxiety building within him, he doesn't know what he’d do if you hate him after this. Even worse if you’re scared of him after this. He doesnt think he could go on living if you were. He hates the idea, the thought of losing you, loathes it even.

Mingi walks into the room where Yeosang lays on the bed, his skin sickly pale, unnatural and different from the usual light tan the siren has. His lips are chapped and parts of his skin are molting, eye’s closed as he’s barely breathing. San is holding a cold water cloth to his forehead in an effort to try and cool down the sirens fever. Jongho sits at the other side of the bed, he’s taken Yeosang’s sickness the hardest besides Wooyoung and San, solidarity in species and all. Mingi looks at Wooyoung who's standing a bit away, Wooyoung's scared to get too close to his friend, scared his natural heat will only worsen Yeosong’s temperature. It must hurt, not being able to be there for his best friend, and Mingi feels guilt at his apprehension on letting you treat Yeosang, after all that means he’s the one separating these two.

He stands next to Yunho, sharing a look before starting to walk again as he makes his way to the front door, Yunho following. The breeze of the night hit him as the sky began to dusk. The moon is shining brightly, almost as if illuminating the path to your house and Yunho can’t help but think it might be an omen, whether it’s a good or bad one is still undecided.

You walk to your backdoor as you hear knocking. You know it's Mingi and Yunho, they’re the only ones that would use that entrance, only ones that would knock too. What worries you is the fact that the knocking seems frantic and you could sense multiple other life forces as well, although they’re a little farther from the entrance of your house than the wolves.

You open the door as you look at the two, it’s unusual that they’re here tonight, they don’t usually come over on weeknights, so the fact that they’re at your front door, looking quite nervous on a Thursday concerns you. “Oh? To what do I owe the visit?” You ask the two as you step aside to let them in, the other life forces don’t move and so you leave them alone.

Mingi and Yunho both step inside, Yunho looking more nervous as Mingi is more conflicted. “We uhm- we have to talk” Mingi says, fiddling with the bandages on his fingers as he walks into your house a bit more, before leaning on the countertop in the corner. Yunho stays by the door but moves to the side a bit so that he’s not blocking it. “We need your help..”

His words peak your interest, the two never share a lot about their current private affairs and you respect that. Understanding that not every creature wishes to be known, especially if they’re of the rarer types like you know these two are, so them standing before you now asking this question is quite strange. “Oh? What can I help with?” You walk into your home, decidedly leaving the door open.

“Okay so uhm- I’m not sure if you know. Wait what do you know- wait no wait oka-” Mingi’s nervous rambling is cut off by Yunho who looks you dead in the eye, unlike Mingi whose eyes are drilling holes in the floor. “Do you believe in the supernatural?” Yunho’s voice is firm and not as soft as you’re used to. “The supernatural? yeah, why?” You say nonchalantly, thinking of all the ways the direction this conversation can go. Would they confess their true nature? Yunho scratches the back of his neck as he takes a deep breath before speaking “So uhm if we were to say, to tell you uhm we-” his words are interrupted by a loud scream from outside, all three of your heads turning the direction of the scream.

The scream was guttural sounding, desperate and dry as you stand closest to the doorway you can see body’s panicking as they rush out of the bushes, laying another body down on the ground, you can’t see much of what's happening because of the distance but you can that Yunho and Mingi are worried, body’s tense. “I'm guessing that’s why you asked? about the supernatural?” You speak and your voice is steady in an effort to give some comfort, you walk a bit more into your kitchen before reaching a door on the side and opening it. “Tell them to bring him in- only you and one other can come with him- I don’t need this many unknown people in my house.” You say before walking down the stairs of the door you’ve opened. Turning the lights on down the way.

As your back is turned to them you can't see the bafflement on their faces as they freeze at your seeming nonchalant demeanor before rushing out to the rest of their packmates. You walk down into your apothecary room as you turn on the lights and clear your table, you don’t know what you’ll be dealing with, so for now all you do is roll up your sleeves and tie your hair. You hear the footsteps of three males come down the stairs. Mingi and Yunho reach your sight first before you see the two behind them, a shorter blond carrying a platinum blond man.

“[M/n] how-” Mingi’s words are cut off by your own “Put him down on the table” you instruct the blond and he does so with hesitance. “What's your name?” you ask again as you start inspecting the man laying down on your table, “San.” he responds as you remove the man on your table’s shirt, “Okay San, tell me about your friend here- he’s a Siren right?” you ask. “Yeah, wait [M/n] how do you-” Mingi responds instead but you completely ignore him. “Fresh or saltwater?” you ask already knowing the answer, eye’s directed at San. “Fresh water” San responds, “What are you doing- why are you taking off his shirt?” he asks, confusion sounding like anger. “Because I'm gonna need you to smear ointment on his chest- lest you want him to stop breathing” you say as you turn to try and reach for a jar of ointment in the cabinet behind you. Although San is quick to stop you as he grabs the wrist of the hand you had rested on the siren's chest to check his heartbeat.

“Listen I don’t know who you are, but you need to tell me what the fuck-AH!” San’s words are stopped by a sharp wince as he suddenly lets go of your wrist, clutching his arm as he looks at the back of his shoulder. Behind him in the doorway you see your best friend standing with her arm outstretched as she’s just thrown a knife into his shoulder blade.“You wolves couldn't act fast enough to stop your little friend here from grabbing [M/n]?” Lisa asks as she walks over. San tries to pull out the knife but you quickly stop him, “Don’t do that, that knife’s specifically designed to hurt anyone except for Lisa. Mingi go get another one of your friends to help San” you say and Mingi complies, despite the unease in his eyes and the questions you can feel lingering on his lips, he walks back out the room. “San you sit down on that chair over there” you point to a chair in the corner of the room “Lisa help him” she clicks her tongue before looking at you as if asking why “You’re the only one that can touch the knife, you know where the ointment is, Yunho help her I don’t think San would be to keen on letting her touch him” you order and Yunho nods, his mouth closed and it seems even he hasn’t processed whats been happening.

Mingi comes down with another male behind him, this one with short dark hair, “Fire elemental yeah? What’s your name?” you ask him as you get out jars of paste from your cabinets. “Uhm uh yeah Wooyoung what’s going on with San” his eyes instinctively flicker to his friend and you can see the panic in his eyes, “hey don't focus on him, focus on me I need your help with your friend.” Wooyoung's head snaps between the two of his friends before he sees San nod at him and he walks up to the table as you hand him a jar. “Here, smear this into his chest” you say as you start inspecting the siren on your table. “When was the last time he swam- in fresh water specifically” You ask Wooyoung. “Uhm I'm not sure? A few months ago maybe? He and Jongho- a saltwater siren, swam in the Night sea before we came here but he hasn’t been in the water since and then he got sick so we don’t know what to do” Wooyoung's words flow out a mile a minute as he starts rubbing the clear ointment on Yeosangs chest.

“Tell me what you’re doing to him” San speaks from the corner of the room between pained hisses. “Okay you see this?” you point to the open gills of the Siren before you, “Usually sirens' gills only form when they’re underwater, his gills being open, basically gasping for air means he cant breath. Freshwater Sirens are much more sensitive than saltwater ones, they need more water intake and too much salt water can also dry out their skin. I've seen it before one or two times in my lifetime, he’s dehydrated, see how he’s molting and his chapped lips?” Wooyoung's nod’s. “So you know how to help him then?” San asks as he’s being wrapped in a bandage by Yunho, Lisa now standing in the other corner of the room as she cleans her dagger.

“Yeah, yeah I know how, Lisa, would you get me the towels please?” you respond as you wrap your hands around Yeosangs neck, covering his gills as Lisa walks up the stairs of the room into your home. Seeing your actions, San tries to storm up from his chair but is held back by Yunho as Mingi’s voice aggressively tells him to sit.”What are you doing?! You just said his gills are how he breathes?! Wooyoung stop him!” San shouts as he’s struggling against Yunho's hold, Wooyoung tries to reach for your hands but is yanked back by Mingi “I told you not to touch him” his voice is borderline possessive but you can't bring yourself to focus on that now. “The ointment Wooyoung rubbed on his chest helped open up his lungs, I'm closing his gills to ensure he'll breathe out of his mouth.” you say and before they can respond the siren lets out a gasp as his breathing becomes a bit more stable, now from his mouth and nose.

“Alright I have to take him out to the water, you can follow but don’t interrupt okay?” You look at the four men in front of you, three nod as San stays silent. You pick Yeosang up bridal-style and Mingi lets out a noise of protest but stays mostly silent. You walk up the stairs careful not to move the siren in your hold too much. As you walk out of your home and feel the cold breeze hit you for the second time that night, the siren in your hold wines at the temperature drop. You nod your head in acknowledgement at the three other males standing outside, looking worried to all hell, as you continue walking to the stream that flows outside your house only a few miles away.

You feel the seven men following you, some fussing over San as they walk, Mingi and Yunho leading them, Lisa follows with towels in hand. As you reach the edge of the stream you look back at the men, “Don’t interrupt yeah? You might not understand what's happening but interfering will only hurt him” you look back at the water. The men behind you all seem apprehensive but comply to your orders, San only because he’s still being held back by Yunho. The clearing is deathly silent as you start walking into the river, despite the cold of the water you don’t flinch.

As you work and the others watch you, Hongjoongs turns to Mingi, “I thought you said he was human?” he whispers slightly, “I thought he was” Mingi responds, mouth almost agape in awe at your actions. “Then why does his right eye look like that of a banshee? Don't tell me you didn't realize” Hongjoong whispers again, this time Mingi is silent as he hears his leader's revelation. He’s always been curious about your white eye, the intricate markings almost like shattered glass, sometimes even wondering if you were blind in it, but he’d never had the gall to ask.

You let out a whistle as you stand in the water. It reaches your chest as you hold Yeosang, letting him practically float in the freshwater, his whole body, except for his face covered by the usual clear stream that's now blurred by the night's darkness. “Amphitrite, darling I need your help” you call out softly, in the same voice you’d speak to Mingi in when he fell asleep on your shoulder, the voice you'd speak to Yunho in when he came to you teary eyed and in need of comfort. A moment of confusion passes before the water starts swirling around you. The hair you’ve loosely tied has now fallen, cascading down your shoulders like a waterfall as the ends drift in the river. The water around you and the siren starts turning a bright blue, almost blinding. Once again San tries to lurch forward but is held back by Hongjoong, “He said not to interrupt” the leader states, despite his own confusion he is smart enough to know not to mess with the trails of a Banshee.

From the side of the river, the side filled with forest trees so dark the others can’t see past the line that separates the land they currently stand on with the territory named Forest night, emerges a large horse. Not a normal one. The horse seems sickly, almost dark and boney, barely a horse at all as its seaweed-like mane sways lightly in the wind, dripping wet despite the fact that the horse has just come out of the dry forest. The horse- the kelpie’s soulless eyes stare into the 7 men standing on the other side of the river. The way it’s flesh is ripped from the sides of its snout revealing it’s horrific teeth is a picture painted from nightmares of the sickests minds. Its bones crack with every step and the dark shadows around it lash out as whispers follow.

It steps into the water and the liquid seems to be drawn to it. The water crawls up its legs and takes its form, molding with the bloody bones and dark shadows so well, to the point that if you didn’t look too closely the horse would seem normal, beautiful even. No ripped flesh or greasy hair, no teeth are shown from its snout because its skin has no tear. The kelpie is big and dark, looking like a noble steed fit for a true royal, yet it walks over to you so slow and soft that it's clear where its loyalties lie. The kelpie goes silent, no whisper or lashing of shadows as it bows to you. The animal who is known to bring death to many sends a horrid thought through San’s mind. They had just given Yeosang, to the nightmarish stallion, on a silver platter. Instead of the creature luring Yeosang to death, it was his own pack who handed him to the ominous shadows of death looming above the glowing river of life.

You reach out a hand to pet its snout, “Amphritre darling, could you help this young siren for me?” you ask softly, stroking the kelpie, it seems to look down for a moment, makes a noise of dismay before you speak again, “Please?” you ask, removing your hand from its snout and gripping your necklace, the kelpie looks at the stone in your hand and relaxes as you reach back up to pet it once more.

It retracts its snout from your hold before looking down at Yeosang, sniffing his hair slightly before bringing a hoof out of the water, time seems to slow down as the horse slaps its hoof down on Yeosangs chest before it dissolves into the water, as if it was never there. Its former dark hair and pale bones now blending in with the bubbling waters as Yeosang gasps again, his body lurching forward as his eyes fly open. He coughs up water as you gently rub his back, your other arm. still supporting him as he’s basically sitting on it. “It’s okay, It’s okay” you whisper softly, unaware of how both Mingi and Yunho’s eyes are locked on you.

The way your hair reflects the moonlight, glowing bright as it drifts on the water behind your back, the way your white shirt- now wet and clear sticks to your skin, the way your voice dips low as you whisper to Yeosang, despite it being barely audible to those standing on the ground, it sends shivers down their spine. Makes Mingi’s stomach churn with heat and Yunho’s chest rumble with jealousy. Everyone else is focusing on the now conscious Yeosang, but they’re focusing on you.

As Yeosang’s coughing fit stops he looks up at you, eyes lidded and foggy and then he gives you a lazy smile, “My pearl, I’ve found you, my pearl, my pearl” Yeosang chant’s out softly like a mantra, his hand reaches for your cheek and just before he could place it on your skin, you tap his forehead, causing him to drop back down, now in a deep sleep as he practically snuggles into your hold. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes lock with Hongjoong and Seonghwa, whose own had widened significantly, but you try not to react too much as you look down for a moment to ensure he’s sleeping before you start to step out as the water around you calms down, going back to its original dark state, only light being from the reflection of the moon.

“What- how-” Mingi’s splutters of confusion are ignored as the salt water siren rushes forward, frantically looking Yeosang up and down, trying to take him from your hold. The siren in your arms, despite his sleepy state, refuses as he makes a noise of protest. You nod your head at Lisa as she hands you a towel before handing another to the saltwater siren. “What’s your name, little one?” she asks him gently, her voice not even close to the malicious tone she had held earlier when speaking to San, “Jongho” the saltwater Siren states. “Alright Jongho, you’re gonna need to help me transfer your friend here from [M/n]’s arms. Can you sit down for me? Hold your hands open with the towel, be ready to take him” she instructs gently, Jongho does as told, you follow shortly after, sitting down on your knees, the action causing your wet pants to flex against your thighs, which immediately draw’s Yunho’s attention.

“What’s this one's name?” you ask Jongho softly, referring to the man in your arms, “Yeosang” the shifter that stands beside Mingi speaks. He seems regal in a sense, and you can sense a connection of sorts to him… he must be a creature that inhabits water, you hum in acknowledgment at his answer before looking down at the boy in your arms. “Alright Yeosang can you hear me?” You speak, gently using one of your hands that's not holding him against you to move the wet hair out of his face, the siren makes a noise of acknowledgement but doesn't open his eyes. “I'm going to need you to let go of me okay? We need to dry you off lest you get sick” you utter and your voice flows over the clearing, despite your gentle tone, the low rumble of your words seems to keep everyone around you quiet. The siren makes another noise of disagreement and you can sense the starting agitation of the wolves standing a bit to your right.

“Come on, if you do this for me I’ll be here when you wake up okay? Just go into the arms of your brother." Finally Yeosang complies at your words as he relaxes the arms that were wrapped around your neck, you hand him to Jongho who instantly wraps him in the blanket and gently tries to dry him as Wooyoung and San flock to his side. You stand up and start gently drying yourself, Lisa helping you with your long hair as you look at the others. “You need to get him home for now, the water may have helped him but the measures i've used will ensure he’ll be very cold, I’d suggest keeping Wooyoung close to him to warm him up, I’m not sure how long you guys will be here, so he can come swim in the river if he feels his hydration levels get too low, just let me know first.” You speak to the group, mostly the two reptilian shifters given they seem to hold the most authority among the group.

“Wait- what how did you-” Mingi walks closer as he starts questioning what just happened, despite his confusion and search for answers his eyes are stuck on your chest as your shirt sticks to it and the necklace he’s never seen you without dangles from your neck. “Isn't it obvious? Thought those two would have figured it out already” you nod to the two shifters again before pointing to your eye, the one that's white and void, filled with little gray lines. “The eye’s of a Banshee.” The shorter one states, “Although I haven't heard of one being alive in a while, the last known one was when the war ended.” the white haired one follows.

“I like keeping quiet, nothing good comes of my kind being known. You must understand that” you say, voice monotone as the two nod. “I’m Kim Hongjoong, this is my right hand Park Seonghwa. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, we have heard quite a lot” Hongjoong says as he nods his head at you. “Thank you for saving Yeosang, truly we didn’t know what to do.” Seonghwa does the same as Hongjoong as he nods his head.

“Hm, It’s no problem, although I must say not everyday the King of Aurora comes to my home.” You say as you look at Hongjoong, his face is stoic but you see the slight widening of his eyes that shows his shock. “What? You think just because we’re an isolated island that we don’t keep up with what happens in other regions?” you ask half sarcastically, Wooyoung who’s listening into the conversation makes a small shrug of “yeah”. You chuckle slightly and the sound is like music to Mingi and Yunho’s ears in this tense atmosphere. “I think you guys should go home yeah? He needs rest” you nod over to the sleeping Yeosang.

Seonghwa steps forward for a moment, “He’ll ask about you, you know that right? Not everyday a fresh water siren finds their pearl” you nod your head in understanding as you cross your arms, the others make faces of confusion but don't interrupt “Yes I understand that, but right now rest is more important to him.” You say and Hongjoong nods, “We do still need to talk” he motions for the others to start gathering around as his eyes are focused on you.

“Hm, I guess I understand, a King worried about a man of his pack” you hum, not noticing the slight flinch as you refer to him as ‘King’, “There's a tavern a little bit into town, called Moonlight, I’ll meet you there tomorrow to talk, you can come anytime. Although not everyone can come, I'm not sure my pack would appreciate being ambushed by yours” Hongjoong nods at your words as he turns around to signal the rest to leave, but Mingi instantly lurches forward.

“Hey woah no I’m not leaving, since when were you a Banshee? Wait, no that's stupid, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn't you tell us?” There are tears lingering in his eyes as he asks you pleadingly, his pupils wide and glossy. He searches your face for an answer as his hands grip your arms desperately. “Why didn't you tell me you were wolves? Shifters from the Walkam bloodline no less” you don’t mean to seem as cold as you do, but your words send a chill down the wolves spine, one colder than the night sky you’re currently standing under.

“We were scared..” Yunho whispers as he moves closer to both you and Mingi. The others look at the scene unfolding before them and they feel as if they’ve invaded something they shouldn’t have, but they can’t look away. The way the moon is shining on you three is simply mesmerizing, as if she’s capturing the moment in her memory. “And so was I. You must know being a Banshee is not safe, for me nor for you. Some things are better kept unsaid.” You place a hand on each of their cheeks as their faces nuzzle into your skin, warm flushed against your cold hands. “But we weren’t- that's not what we were scared of I- '' Mingi's words are cut off by Lisa, who's standing with the others.

“Loverboy, I don’t think this is the place for your confession okay? Besides [Name] is tired, that ritual takes a lot out of him” she says as she shifts her weight to one hip, she seems a little annoyed to the others but you can see the bit of sympathy in her eyes. The scene seems almost familiar to her but she pushes the feeling away. Mingi turns his head to her and opens his mouth to protest but he’s stopped by you talking instead. “She’s right Mingi, you need to go home, Yeosang needs to rest, I need to rest.” You tell him softly. “But we have to talk” Yunho’s disheartened voice reaches your ears. “Tomorrow is Friday, right? We always meet on friday nights, why would tomorrow be any different? We can talk then, I'll give you all the answers I can then.” your thumb strokes his cheek gently before you retract your hands. Both wolves whine at the loss of your touch but they don't talk back at your words. They listen intently like worshipers would their deity.

“Promise?” they ask in unison, Mingi’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as Yunho’s does with hope. “When have I ever backed out of our Friday night meetings? Why would I skip the chance to see you now meae carissimae lupi” the familiar name rolls off your tongue in a language that makes Hongjoongs eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t comment on it, not in such a fragile atmosphere. Both Mingi and Yunho’s eyes flash with confusion yet fondness, you’ve never told them what the name meant, but they both hold the familiarity of the way your voice vibrates when you refer to them with it dear. “Now I believe you need to help get your brother home hm?” You nod your head to Yeosang who's still in Jongho’s arms. Yunho is the first to start retreating, but Mingi is hesitant to do the same, instead he sends one final glance to his pack. His eyes lock with Yunho, and then his gaze lingers on Yeosang for just a moment longer than a normal look should, before he hugs you, tightly. Not caring for the wetness of your clothes, or the coldness of your skin, he hugs you like his life depends on it, and were you any weaker it would have hurt.

He rests his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as if he’s engraving it in his memory. Your hand automatically rests itself on his head, gently scratching his scalp to try and soothe him from what you believe to be the feelings of his sick brother now crashing down on him. Unbeknownst to you, the action solidifies something, adds oxygen to his lungs, to the fire in his very being that's alight for you.

“Mingi..” Hongjoong calls in warning as he sees Lisa’s gaze. Hongjoong doesn’t want to intrude longer than he already has, the suspicions he and Seonghwa currently hold make him weary of your company, despite the kind gesture you had just done for them. Mingi growls, it’s low, not like any sound they’ve ever heard from him, seems to reverberate from his chest like a demon roaring in a cave, and not that of a normal wolf. Although he lets go, and so no one pays it any mind, all of them having too much to process tonight already, Mingi’s more primal than usual rumble being the last of their worries.

Mingi looks at your face as he lets go of you, leans in and kisses your nose as he cups your cheeks before he turns away and starts walking, not looking at any of his pack members. You stand in shock as you watch his retreating figure, feeling the tingle of his lips on your skin linger. Yunho spares you a glance of longing before going after Mingi, and the otters hang around unsure whether they should stay or go.

“[Name] will meet you at the tavern tomorrow, King. You all should go before I stick another knife in one of you” Lisa says as she assesses the situation at hand, her eyes travel to San as he grits his teeth, shoulders tensing as he seemingly readies himself to jump at her, but he’s stopped by Wooyoung holding his arm. “Yeah we’ll go Ma’am, no need to dagger any of us” he tugs San to follow, the blond making a confused noise at Wooyoung's sudden honorifics for the female. Jongho whose feet have already begun moving the moment Lisa’s first sentence left her mouth.

Now the only people left in the clearing, it’s you, Lisa, Seonghwa and Hongjoong. “You speak the ancient language?” Seonghwa asks, “I was taught at a young age, just as you probably were, lost dragon of Twilight” Seonghwa’s breath hitches at your response, eyes widening as he immediately opens his mouth to respond, yet Hongjoong interrupts him, “Seonghwa, we will go.” Hongjoong who’s been analyzing both you and Lisa makes his decision final as he starts walking, Seonghwa quickly following his leader but still spluttering in confusion. His regal mask seemingly breaking the moment you showed an inkling of knowledge.

Once the two have passed the treeline and are out of your sight, you let out a breath of relief and Lisa immediately moves to your side to support you as your legs give in for a moment. She gives you a second to stabilize yourself before you both move back into your home, you immediately sit on a stool by your kitchen counter as she locks the door. Your head rests in your hands as you hear Lisa rustle around in your kitchen. “Drink”, she says, before placing a glass of water in front of you as she sits down herself.

You take the glass and chug it as she starts speaking, “Tea-moo won’t like this you know” she plays with her dagger as she speaks, the tip of the blade chipping a hole into the paint of the counter top as she spins it under her finger. “Tea-moo has a wife to worry about, and stop it with the blade you’re going to ruin another counter top” you swat her hand playfully to stop her, she huffs and drops the dagger. “She won’t like this either” Lisa gives you a knowing look as she stands back up, now looking through your cupboards. “Just for different reasons” you sigh as she turns around, a jar of salve in her hands.

She walks over to you as you turn in your chair to face her, with her help you remove your shirt as she opens the jar, your muscle’s ache with the strain you’ve put on them tonight, clearly not having used your magic for a long time has an effect on you. Looking down you see the lightning-like scars that litter your torso and crawl all the way to your back. You're just lucky the transparency of your white shirt didn’t expose the usually light pink marks that litter your skin tonight, but now they’re glowing a faint blue. It’s not painful by any means, but still the reminder that it can be excruciating when not treated haunts you. You shake your head to distract yourself as Lisa starts lightly applying the balm along the lines of your healed wounds. It’s become a calming ritual for her, applying the salve on the long forgotten wounds that only re appear when you use your magic. It’s as if the light inside you tries to escape, and Lisa tries her hardest to keep it inside. Lest she fail again. Applying the salve to watch the marks almost completely disappear is the only thing that can help her rest easy after you've used magic such as what you used tonight.

“Vampires are territorial creatures, they are most like wolves in that way” she muses as she continues your previous conversation, “Don’t let them hear you say that” you try and lighten the mood, and under any other circumstance it would have worked. “Tea- moo hearing me compare him to a wolf is not my concern. My concern; is him finding out his previous imprinted- and his wife's savior has been claimed by a Siren- a prince of Dune no less” Lisa’s gaze flickers to the orange stone hung around your neck before she looks at you, you sigh and rub your eyes, already feeling the headache forming, “and why is that your concern?” you voice the question yet already know the answer.

“That nation abandoned you, who's to say their prince wont do the same?” she slams the lid back on the jar of salve before she moves to put it away while you put on your shirt again. “What happened then had nothing to do with him Lisa, you know that. He does not know who I am and does not know I know who he is. Besides, I do not plan on reciprocating his bond. I've had enough dealing with Dune’s sirens to last me all my lifetimes.” you bring your necklace out from under your shirt as Lisa walks back to you, she takes the stone in her hand gently as it glows in response to her touch, you let her.

She lets it drop back to your chest with a gentle jingle of the chain, “And the wolves? You’ve been awfully close to them this last year, and while the others may have been fine with it- having seen them tonight? Having heard the rumble in the angry one’s-""Mingi’s” you interrupt her,”Mingi’s chest” she nods her head, “that's something way more than just adoration for you…” she says, and this time you can’t reassure her in your hesitance to pursue anything like you could with the siren.

She nods her head in understanding, “Just be careful hm?” she pats your chest, “dealing with one supernatural bond is hard enough, having the prospect of three? It might not bode well with the others” You nod your head at her words because you know it’s true, but you can’t bring yourself to deny anything.

Because the last few months, this last year spent with Mingi and Yunho have brought back to you what you thought had been extinguished forever, but you’re scared of accepting the reality of what that means. Accepting reality means accepting them, and you fear you'll drown their fire if you do, just like you did before.

“Do you think it’s stupid of me to live in this delusion?” you ask quietly, fiddling with your necklace as it once again glows in response to you, your emotions. Lisa sighs, “I don’t think it’s stupid- I don’t think it's a delusion either, My little prince” she holds your face in her hands, using the tittle you've long since forgone. Lisa has always been with you, ever since you were a teen knowing nothing about life she had been one of the older flames who helped guide you. “If those wolves are what you desire, then you know i'll help you acquire them- I think they would come willingly” she jokes, and you huff out a laugh. “My desire means nothing in the face of their safety. I just, I like to think that If I was different, if I wasn't-” you stop your sentence, “I like to think that sometimes I could love someone the way you love her” you say. Lisa’s eyes fill with pain and she kisses your forehead, “You will, you'll find someone who loves you like that” ‘You already have’ she thinks but doesn't verbalize.

“Why are you always the one able to make me vulnerable?” you ask rhetorically, biting your cheek in an effort not to cry. Lisa’s warmth sometimes reminds you more of your mother than a sister. “I've been your guard since before you knew what love meant [M/N], if you didn't feel safe enough to be vulnerable with me I wouldn't be doing my job right” she bites back and pats your cheek before her hands leave your face. “You know you don't have to protect me right? I can do it myself” you muse, and she responds without a beat, “I don’t have too, I want to. Just because you're able to protect yourself doesn't mean you should. You protect the others, you protect your kids, so I protect you.”

You smile at her, and she’s reminded of another time, a younger you running between an army of soldiers, laughing as the big burly men in all black gaze with fondness at your little figure. The contrast of your soft white hair and clothing to their intimidating nature always drew a laugh from onlookers. Lisa remembers sitting next to her love as you played with the soldiers, she remembers a time your smile was innocent and not burdened with the pain and knowledge you now hold.

She hopes these wolves could bring back that smile.

Ateez masterlist | Navigation

Taglist [12 /30]: @foxilsdenn @zzstar @glitchyaiko @brrrkdslek @scarfac3 @xavi-in-kpopland @conwunder @venn-ie @dahbee8 @idkwhatto-namethis @seongsangssbitch @grapejellysollie

note: RAAHH IM SO EXCITED TO FINALLY RELEASE THIS, you have no idea how much I love this storyline guys :(( im taking a long time with it because i wnat it to be good!! I hope all my moonies enjoy this <3333 Please remember the reader does have specific characteristics visually (hair and eyes), wich WAS stated in the character introductions and are there for reasons so im asking nicely that everyone be respectfull about that <3 ANYWAY on a happier note I'm using a lot of foreshadowing for this series, so I want my moonies to interact with it a lot :) share with me your theories, parts of thd chapters that stand out to you, headcannons or thoughts you have :)) If your theory is correct I'll give you a lil spoiler on what will happen further in the story. I want to see how smart my moonies are and if they can pick up the crumbs I leave for them- remember no piece of information is given if it won't be used😘

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 5 months

Text

✧*̥˚ my muses, acquired like bruises *̥˚✧

a collection of my fics inspired by taylor swift songs/lyrics, in honor of the release of THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

JOEL MILLER

cruel summer | au | explicit | chapters: 6/6

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise. He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

crimson red paint on my lips | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work

Joel Miller is an asshole. You should have known better than to show up at his door with your lips painted red. Connected to me and the devil and marked me like a bloodstain

↳AO3 | Tumblr

marked me like a bloodstain | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work

You save Joel’s life when the two of you are attacked on a smuggling run. He has an interesting way of saying thank you. Connected to crimson red paint on my lips and me and the devil

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karma is my boyfriend’s dad | au | explicit | connected work

Your boyfriend, Sean Miller, is an asshole. The one redeeming thing about him? His dad, Joel Miller. And he's just invited you along on the family vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida.

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in a feud with her neighbor | au | explicit | connected work

Five times you think Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever, and the one time he isn’t.

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bonus scenes: in a feud with her neighbor | au | PG-13 | connected work

Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!

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toyin’ with them older guys | au | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

help me hold onto you | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

Joel always tries his best to keep his mind from wandering to its darkest corners, but occasionally, the frayed threads holding him together with sloppy stitches start to unravel. Sometimes you need to give him something to hold onto.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

seven | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.

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the last great american dynasty | au | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up. He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream.

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TOMMY MILLER

wrong place, right time | pre-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

What if Joel didn’t answer Tommy’s call from jail? And what if the waitress he’d been defending that night bailed him out instead?

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JAVIER PEÑA

i can see you (javier peña's version) | au | explicit | one-shot

When Javier Peña takes credit for your lead, you take revenge. Good thing you know Javier can't resist a girl in red lipstick.

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FRANKIE MORALES

my tears and my beers and my candles | au | explicit | one-shot

It’s been a bad week and you just need to have a good cry. You didn’t expect Frankie Morales, best friend and unrequited crush, to crash your pity party. He’s got some interesting ways of making you feel better. Maybe it’s not so unrequited after all.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

invisible string | au | explicit | one-shot

After fifteen years, the invisible string that ties you to Frankie Morales pulls you back together

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MIGUEL O'HARA

i can see you (miguel o'hara's version) | au | explicit | one-shot

As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man. But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?

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EDDIE MUNSON

the mark you saw on my collarbone | vampire au | explicit | connected work

A snippet of life with your human and your monster. A oneshot in the bat out of hell series

↳AO3

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buildarocketboys · 5 months

Note

53 + peterick lmao

Haha this one was so perfect for them! Fluffy early band ficlet, Pete takes Patrick out on a 4am ice cream date!

53. “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!”

It's 4am, and Patrick is wide awake.

Not that this is such an unusual occurrence for Patrick. His preferred sleeping schedule lingers somewhere between 3 or 4am and 12 or 1pm. But as a high school student, that's not really sustainable so he's usually at least trying to sleep by this time.

Right now he can't, though. He's thinking about the conversation (argument) he and Pete had earlier. Replaying it over and over in his mind.

Ugh, but Pete just makes him so angry sometimes. They were rehearsing a few of their songs in preparation to record them at Joe's next week.

And then Pete had wanted to change a lyric.

And another.

They weren't sensible changes, either. Half the time, Pete seems to want to replace one word with forty. It's ridiculous.

And he's so smug about it too! As if he thinks-knows-that his lyrics are so much better than Patrick's.

The worst part is, Patrick can't help thinking he's right. Patrick knows he's no poet, or wordsmith. His lyrics are juvenile at best. He's all too aware of this, as Pete well knows.

Pete's words are beautiful, poetic, the metaphors winding and flowing through his writing like a river to the sea.

But at least Patrick's lyrics fit the rhythm of the damn song!

After one too many of these changes, Patrick had lost his temper.

He'd yelled, "If you know so much better than me, maybe you should write the fucking lyrics!"

Pete had gone quiet at that. He hadn't talked for the rest of the rehearsal, which they all mutually decided to cut short. Which doesn't bode well for the recording. They all need the practice.

Patrick knows he went too far, but also - he can't see how he's wrong. Pete needs to put up or shut up when it comes to the lyrics - he could at least work with Patrick when it comes to making the lyrics fit. But the man has no sense of rhythm, at least not on purpose. He doesn't seem to see an issue with adding another twenty words to a verse.

He just gives Patrick an infuriating little smile and tells Patrick that he knows Patrick will make it work.

Pete seems to think Patrick is some kind of musical genius. Which is flattering, he guesses. Except he's really not.

Patrick's perseveration is interrupted by a tapping at the window. He jumps, then twists around, pulling the curtain back to reveal Pete's face at the window.

He groans.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he hisses once he's opened the window.

Pete pouts at him. "Now that's not a very nice way to greet your best friend, is it?"

Patrick grits his teeth. "It's four in the morning!"

Pete shrugs. "So? You're awake, aren't you?" When Patrick continues to glare at him he says, "Also, be quiet - don't wanna wake your mom up."

Patrick rolls his eyes, arms crossed tightly over his chest (only partly to hide his Batman pajamas), then sighs. Relenting, he scrambles back so Pete can climb into his room proper.

"Shut the window," he says, "It's freezing." January in Chicago is no joke.

Pete does so, a grin playing round his lips. It fades when Patrick says, "What are you doing awake at 4am anyway?"

Pete presses his lips together. Instead of answering, he says, "I could ask the same of you."

Patrick stares back at him, stony-faced. He asked first.

Pete sighs, pushing his hair back. "Couldn't stop thinking about earlier," he admits.

Patrick lets out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, me too."

Pete looks up at him, eyes sparkling hopefully. "Thought I could make it up to you."

"Make it up...to me?" Patrick asks. He'd figured Pete was mad at him. Too late he registers Pete's raised eyebrows, and scrambles to correct himself. "How?" he asks, crossing his arms again.

Pete grins, so effortlessly charming that Patrick kind of hates him for it. Patrick could never be so laid back in a million years.

For some reason, Pete likes him anyway. God knows why.

Sometime after they became best friends, Patrick resolved to stop questioning it. Sometimes it's best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I'm taking you out for ice cream," Pete announces.

For a moment, Patrick's not sure he's heard correctly. "Ice cream?" he splutters. "Pete. It's 4am in midwinter in Chicago. We are not going out for ice cream."

"Why not?" says Pete. "You once said that if you could choose one food to eat for the rest of your life, it'd be ice cream."

"Well, yeah, but..." Pete remembers that? How many of the stupid things Patrick says on a daily basis has Pete retained? It doesn't bear thinking about. "Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am to go for ice cream?!"

Pete waggles his eyebrows. "C'mon, Patrick. You know you want to."

Patrick's stomach flip flops in excitement. Pete is always doing shit like this, getting Patrick to step out of his comfort zone, while always, always being there to hold his hand. He pretends to be annoyed, but really he loves it.

"What if my mom finds out?"

Pete shakes his head. "She won't. Just sneak out the window with me. We'll be back before she wakes up."

Patrick moves to the window and looks out dubiously. He's seen Pete do it before - shimmy down the drainpipe and onto the garage roof, before jumping down.

But Pete's athletic. If Patrick tried that, he'd probably break an ankle. Or worse.

"I think I'll go out the front door," Patrick says. He's pretty sure he can make it without his mom waking up. He's an expert at ninja-ing down the stairs in the middle of the night.

Pete shrugs. "It's your funeral." He heads for the window, obviously planning to return the way he came. "Wait, you do want to come, right?"

"Yeah!" Patrick exclaims - a little too loud and enthusiastic. He cringes, and they both listen for any sound of his mom stirring in the next room. "Yeah," he says. "I just need to put, like, ten layers on."

Pete's got a shit-eating grin on his face now. "Alright. See you on the other side, sport." He punches Patrick's shoulder and has disappeared out the window before Patrick can object to the childish nickname.

Patrick sighs and then starts pulling on clothes at random, grateful for his floordrobe for once, as it means he doesn't have to open his squeaky closet door. He darts down the stairs, ninja-style, and stands at the front door for a full minute, pricking his ears for any sounds from his mom's room. When none come, he slips on his shoes and unlocks the door, closing it softly behind him before half-jogging to Pete's car.

Pete smirks as he slips in. "Impressive," he says.

"Oh shut up." He rubs his hands together as Pete starts the car, waiting for the heaters to warm up. "Where do they serve ice cream at 4am in Chicago in January anyway?" he asks. "It's, like, 20 degrees."

Pete grins as he pulls out of Patrick's driveway and guns the engine. "I know a place."

The place turns out to be a diner on the edge of the city.

When they enter, there's nobody else in the place. No customers, no waitresses, not even anyone behind the counter.

The lights are on but nobody's home, thinks Patrick, then giggles.

Pete glances at him. "What's so funny?"

Patrick shakes his head. "Is this place actually open?" he asks.

Pete nods. "Sure it is. The lights were on, the door was open, right? They're probably just out back, having a smoke. Hey!" Pete calls loudly. No answer. He sighs in frustration. "Just wanted to get my boy some ice cream," he mutters under his breath.

Patrick feels his stomach lurch. Something about Pete calling him his boy does things to him. It's kinda like Pete calling him his boyfriend.

Kinda, but not really, he tells himself firmly, as Pete dings the little old-fashioned bell next to the register.

They hear footsteps coming their way. "Finally!" Pete says, as if they've been there for hours. Patrick rolls his eyes fondly. "Why don't you go pick out which flavors you want?" He nods toward the glass box under which a smorgasbord of ice creams are displayed.

"Woah," Patrick says. He scans the flavors, trying to pick his favorite, wishing he hadn't forgotten his glasses. A waitress arrives behind the counter to serve Pete.

"Hey there, darling, sorry about that. You been waitin' long?" she says to Pete, batting her eyelashes, and suddenly the ice cream is the last thing on Patrick's mind. He watches her flirt with Pete, nails digging into his palms, thinking that is the fakest accent he's ever heard in his life.

Pete seems to fall for it though, much to Patrick's disgust. He grins up at her and says, "Not long, no," in this breathy little voice he uses whenever he flirts with girls. Patrick feels sick, for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

"What can I get ya?" she asks.

"I'll have a coffee," Pete says. "And for my friend here..." he trails off, obviously waiting for Patrick to give his order.

Patrick realizes he's been staring at them, open-mouthed.

He slams his mouth shut as the waitress says, flatly, "Oh. Hey there."

"Pete, I...I don't have any money," he admits. He'd been so focused on getting out of the house undetected, and so excited about sneaking around with Pete in the middle of the night, that it hadn't even occurred to him to bring his wallet.

Pete reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him close so he can wrap his arm round Patrick's waist. "That's OK, honey. My treat."

The waitress purses her lips. Patrick feels a zing of delight in the vicinity of his stomach, even as he can feel his cheeks burning.

"Uh, are you not having anything?" he asks Pete.

Pete shakes his head. "Just coffee. I'm not hungry."

"I'll just have some vanilla then," says Patrick.

"Aw, no, c'mon Patrick," Pete says, eyes crinkling in disappointment. "I'm taking you out on an ice cream date, you've gotta have at least two flavors."

The waitress looks at him dubiously - 17, chubby, wearing about 15 layers of clothes. Privately, Patrick agrees with her - why would Pete want to take him on a date, of all people? Even a friend date, which he's sure is what Pete means. But he raises his chin and looks her in the eye.

"Um, OK," he says after a moment, when the waitress has looked away. "I'll have, uh..." he glances at the flavors again, and chooses pretty much at random, "Bubblegum and rocky road."

"Good choice,' says the waitress, smiling a little.

"And put those in a cone!" Pete says as she goes to scoop the ice cream. He nudges Patrick. "It's not ice cream if it's not in a cone, right?"

"Do you remember everything I've ever said to you, or just the ice cream-related things?" Patrick teases.

Pete looks at him, deadly serious. "Patrick Stump, I remember every word you've ever said to me."

Patrick rolls his eyes, but he can't help but smile. He takes the ice cream cone the waitress offers him and they go sit in a booth in the corner.

Then he remembers their argument this afternoon. "Even the bad stuff?" he asks, swallowing nervously.

Pete's eyes soften. "Yeah, not that there's much. But I don't hold it against you." He sips his coffee. Patrick's pretty sure he's just being kind - they argue a lot, and Patrick's not always the most objective or logical when his temper gets the better of him. "Besides, you're usually right, anyway."

Patrick snorts. "Am not," he says, because that's definitely not true, and he doesn't need Pete to mollycoddle him.

Pete flashes him a grin. "Yeah y'are. Like this afternoon-"

Patrick sighs. "Can we not talk about that?" He realizes his ice cream has started to drip down the cone and onto his hand, and launches a rescue mission with his tongue. Pete is silent for long moments and Patrick thinks he's dropped it, but when he looks up again he catches Pete watching him.

Pete clears his throat. "You were right," he says. He sounds kinda weird. "I was being annoying, making all those lyric changes."

Patrick sits back in his seat, satisfied that they're finally in agreement. "Yeah, you were."

"But was I wrong? I mean, didn't my changes make the songs better?"

Patrick snorts. "If changing one word to forty makes a song better, sure." Now that he's cooled down, though, he actually thinks about it. "Your words are better than mine," he admits quietly. "They're more poetic, or whatever."

Actually, Pete's words are kind of really fucking beautiful, but he'd never tell Pete that. It's one of the things that annoys him the most when Pete asks to change the lyrics. Not only are they almost always better than Patrick's lyrics, they also make Patrick feel things. Things he's not sure he wants to feel.

"Exactly!" says Pete, then cringes when Patrick scowls at him. "That's not...that's not what I meant," he says quickly. "I love your songs, Patrick. You know that."

Patrick does. Sometimes he thinks Pete's the only one who likes them.

"But you're a musician. I...I get the feeling you don't really care about the words."

Pete picks his words carefully, but Patrick can't help feeling a little offended. Patrick does care. Sure, he cares about all the other stuff - the melody and the rhythm and the harmonies - way more, but it's not like he's not trying! He tries really hard with the lyrics, they just never come out any good!

"It's not that I don't care-" he starts, then sighs.

"But you see what I'm saying?" Pete asks, pressing his advantage.

"Yeah. I guess." Patrick pays attention to his ice cream for a while before he speaks again. "What's the point of this, Pete? I mean, what can we do different?"

Pete's face lights up with a grin. This is clearly the point he's been wanting to get to the whole time. "I write the lyrics. You write the music."

Patrick considers this for a while, his tongue worming its way into the bright blue ice cream. He doesn't miss the way Pete is staring at him, but for now he just lets it happen. Pete isn't like other people - he likes being under his gaze.

"How would that work through?" he says. "If I write the music, we'll still run into the same problem, trying to fit your lyrics to it." In fact, it'll probably be worse, Patrick thinks.

Pete shrugs. "It's just an idea," he says. "I don't know, maybe I could write the words and you could fit the music around them?"

Patrick screws his face up. Nobody does it like that. That's just not how songwriting works.

But.

Sometimes when he looks at Pete's lyrics, he hears the beginning of a melody. Usually he pushes it back, annoyed at the distraction when he's trying to fit them to the tune he's already got.

But what if he let that impulse run free? What would happen then?

"We could try it," Patrick says tentatively.

Pete's face is split with a grin. "Yeah?"

Patrick shrugs. "Yeah. I'm not saying it'll work, mind you. Nobody writes songs like that for a reason."

Pete lets out a breath. "I know. But we're not like everybody else." He claps his hands together, satisfied, breaking the tension between him and Patrick. "We'll do the recording like we were always gonna, with your lyrics. I'll try not to mess with them too much."

Patrick raises an eyebrow.

"But after that, we try this, yeah? It's an experiment. And if it doesn't work, we can go back to you writing the songs."

Patrick nods. "OK," he says, and attacks the rest of his ice cream with gusto, while Pete sips his coffee and watches him openly.

Pete drives him back at 5:30am. His mom gets up at 6. He should be fine.

Patrick's quiet on the drive back. Just thinking.

"You OK?" Pete asks as he pulls up on Patrick's driveway.

Patrick nods, offering him a small smile. "Just thinking," he tells Pete.

Pete nods encouragingly, and Patrick adds, "Do you actually have words to give me? You know, if that's what we're gonna do?"

Pete nods. "Oh yeah." He leans over Patrick and opens the glovebox, pulling out a hardcover notebook. Patrick's seen him writing in it before. "Here you go." He hands it to Patrick.

Patrick takes it reverently in his hands. "Pete... isn't this basically your diary?"

Pete nods, not looking at him. "Technically it's a journal. But yeah." He breathes shallowly. "But I trust you."

The gravity of that trust is not lost on Patrick.

Pete turns around finally to find Patrick staring at him.

"What?" he says, but his cheeks are ruddy. "You're my best friend."

Patrick blinks, his eyelashes fluttering. "Yeah..." he breathes.

Pete leans forward and brushes his thumb over the corner of Patrick's mouth. Patrick's heart stutters in his chest.

Pete's eyes flicker to Patrick's lips, and for a moment, Pete thinks he's going to close the distance between them.

Then he leans back, breathing hard.

"Might want to wash your face when you get in. Your mouth is blue."

Patrick chokes out a laugh. "Yeah. Will do." He opens the passenger door.

"See you tomorrow?" says Pete hopefully, and Patrick smiles.

"Yeah," he says, squeezing Pete's hand. "Tomorrow."

#qorktrees #asks #ask meme #peterick #patrick stump #pete wentz #fob #my writing

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