#but finally piecing all these ideas i had for king together make him a joy to write

[megsironthrone]

Fated

Based on this request: Can you do a Robert Baratheon x stark!reader. The reader fostered with Ned at the vale and she gets pregnant with mya stone but a couple of months after the birth the reader was sent away the to foster a another house and she took mya with her and Robert has to marry Lyanna but he doesn’t love her he loves the reader and they reunited at the day rheagar crown Lyanna and Robert doesn’t want to marry her anymore and so they changed it so that he marry the reader. I hope that makes sense.

Here you are, lovely! The request was changed just slightly. *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!*

Warnings: AU, angsty. fluffy. Pre-show events AS romantic as I can possibly make Robert.

Pairings/Characters: Robert Baratheon x fem!Stark reader, Lyanna Stark x Rhaegar Targaryen

You watched with tears in your eyes as the Vale grew smaller in the distance. You clutched little Mya to your chest while she cooed. You knew your guardian would be livid at the fact that you had given birth to Robert Baratheon's bastard, but you never thought they'd send you away, especially since Robert didn't even know of the child's existence. They sent you away from the only home you'd ever known to be fostered elsewhere until someone could marry you off. It would be a while before you saw Robert again.

*time skip*

       "Stop fidgeting." You instantly stilled, "Forgive me, Lady Olenna." Lady Olenna Tyrell had been the one to take you and Mya in after your former guardian pushed you out. You had been “raised” alongside her son, Mace, who was older than you. Olenna sighed. She had come to love you and Mya like her own family over the time you'd been a ward of Highgarden. But she knew you were anxious about this visit to King’s Landing. 

When word had reached Highgarden of Robert’s victory and coronation as King of Westeros, you had felt your heart leap with joy that he was alive. Only your heart sank once more when you heard that he was now betrothed to Lyanna, your sister. You loved Lyanna, of course. She was a fierce woman to be admired and was certainly a match for Robert. That didn’t mean you had to like it. In truth, even after all that time, you still loved Robert. Your sister didn’t as far as you knew. 

When the wheelhouse stopped outside the Red Keep, you let out a breath, gathered up little Mya, and stepped out after Lady Olenna. It only took a moment for you to hear, “Sister!” Then you felt Lyanna’s arms wrapping around you and your daughter. “I have missed you!” You attempted to smile at her. You knew it wasn’t her idea to marry the man you loved. 

Someone clearing their throat had Lyanna pulling back from you. You glanced up to see someone who could only be Rhaegar Targaryen standing there. You curtsied before letting your eyes travel to the man next to him. Robert. His blue eyes were riveted on you for a moment before they began bouncing between you and Mya. You greeted the new king as was customary with a “Your Grace,” but your eyes never left his face as you watched him piece together your little secret. 

“Lady Y/N,” Rhaegar broke the awkward tension, “Welcome to King’s Landing.” You gave him a tight smile as Lyanna took your elbow to lead you inside. You could feel Robert’s gaze on you. Lyanna led you to the chambers made up for you and finally let go of your elbow. She glanced around before plopping down on your bed. She looked uncomfortable and you couldn’t tell if it was because she hated being trapped indoors on such a nice day or if she had something to say.

After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke, “I’m sorry.” Your brows drew together in confusion. “What for?” Mya fussed a bit, but you calmed her as you waited for your sister to explain. “Marrying Robert. It was not my idea. I-I know how much you loved him.” You gave her a soft smile. “You do? I didn’t think anyone knew, but I do know that you would never hurt me like this. You never liked the idea of marriage and I’m certain you-” you cut off when you noticed her cheeks tinted pink. 

“What?” Lyanna bit her lip as she motioned for you to come closer. When you drew near, she whispered, “I don’t want to marry him, Y/N.” You smiled and nodded, but she continued, “Because I’m in love with someone else. W-We plan to run off before the wedding.” Your eyes widened, but before you could speak, there was a knock on the door. You hugged Mya a little closer as Lyanna called out and the door opened. 

Robert stood on the other side, his eyes meeting yours once again. “Out,” he stated, causing Lyanna to raise a brow. “It’s alright, Lyanna. We’ll speak again later.”  Your sister sighed, but left the room all the same. Before she walked out of sight, she whispered something to Robert.

Once Lyanna had left, you spoke up. “You’re angry.” Robert’s blue eyes darkened, “Furious, more like. Why the hells didn’t you tell me?!” You rolled your eyes. “When? I didn’t know the last time we saw each other. Once it was discovered, the septa watched me like a hawk to try and determine who the father was. I-I wouldn’t say. I knew how important your titles were as the eldest son and I didn’t know what would happen to you if it got out you’d fathered a bastard. By the time I was free to send a raven, word came that you were being crowned king. You didn’t need to be saddled with the scandal.”

“That wasn’t only your choice to make, Y/N!” You huffed and set Mya down on the floor to play. “King or not, you do NOT yell at me, Robert Baratheon. Especially not in front of my daughter.” Robert opened and closed his fists a few times in an action you knew he used to calm himself. You were one of the few people he would never hit. 

“And now you’re betrothed to my sister. You will marry and have children with her. I expect nothing from you, Robert. Nor will Mya.” Robert’s brows furrowed. He looked deep in thought for a moment until little Mya decided to stand on shaky legs and wobble her way over to him. He looked down when he felt her fall into his legs. 

Without thinking twice, Robert scooped up the little girl in his arms. She gave him a toothy grin and laid her head on his chest with her tiny fist in her mouth. Robert looked up at you and then back down at his daughter. “Hells!” he nearly yelled, but changed his tone to a softer one so as not to scare Mya, “I’m the king, right?” You arched a brow and nodded, unsure where he was going with this. “I say who gets married or not. I won’t marry Lyanna. I don’t want to.”

“Robert, you can’t just break off an engagement like that!”

“Yes he/I can!” Robert and Lyanna, who had decided to burst into the room at that moment, replied in unison. You jumped a little and Mya began to fuss. Robert froze and you stifled a giggle. This man, this hardened warrior, looked absolutely petrified at the crying child in his arms. You swiftly took her from him and shushed her. 

Robert glanced at Lyanna and then at Rhaegar, who stood behind her in the doorway. “Planned on running off, did ya?” Robert asked and Rhaegar’s eyes widened. Lyanna jutted out her chin in defiance. “Yes, if you must know. Now we don’t have to because you’re going to marry my sister and have a dozen more babies while Rhaegar and I marry and leave to find our own adventures.”

“Do I not get a say in this?” you asked, bouncing Mya. Lyanna looked at you. “I mean, I guess Robert could always marry Cersei Lannister and you could find some lord to marry. Maybe Mace Tyrell.” You grimaced at the thought and Lyanna continued, “Besides, Lyanna of Houses Stark and Targaryen suits me better. You and Robert were always meant to be.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at your sister before meeting Robert’s gaze once more. 

“Well? What are you waiting for?” you asked after a moment and Robert’s expression shifted to one of confusion. You laughed. “I positively demand a proper proposal from the king if I am to marry him.” Lyanna and Rhaegar quickly left the room after Lyanna took her niece with your permission. 

Once the door closed behind them, Robert met your gaze. “Come on, Y/N.” You crossed your arms over your chest with a smirk on your lips. Robert was absolutely not a romantic person so this was torture for him. “Oh, just marry me, woman!” At your unimpressed look, he added, “Please. You know I love you.” You beamed. “That’s all I needed to hear.” You stepped closer to him and kissed him deeply.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @line-viper @etherealpotter @cd1242 @frozenhuntress67 @smalltownbigheart @gruffle1 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

[deathmetalunicorn1]

One Piece strawhat pirates with Anya reader from Spy x Family, I thought the interactions would be hilarious and cute

-You were bright and sparkly eyed, finding yourself in a new world, one of pirates and adventures. This is almost as cool as being a world with spies!

-You found yourself rescued by a cheerful man who just felt so warm, like a hug, after the marines had been chasing you, after you accidentally blurted out a secret that nobody was supposed to know and now they needed to shut you up.

-Luffy was so warm and kind to you, like a big brother, and when you called him big brother for the first time, he was beaming so brightly, just like the sun.

-He was pretty simple, only really thinking about food and becoming the pirate king, and protecting his crew if someone was to threaten any of them, including you.

-Zoro didn’t know what to make of you- you were so tiny and weak, but he could tell that you were smarter than you looked, as you always seemed to dodge him when he was teaching you how to use a wooden sword, reading his mind to read his moves.

-He quickly became your second big brother, and he will not hesitate to kill to protect you, which you do think is rather scary, but he was a lot like Luffy, thinking about drinking and becoming stronger, wanting to become the strongest swordsman in the world.

-Nami adored you, especially when you called her big sister, as she had never been a big sister before, as she was the little sister to Nojiko, so when you were brought into the crew, she relished the idea of being a big sister finally.

-Nami is scary at times, yelling and hitting the others, but never you, she would never hit you, only flicking your forehead when you did something reckless, but you could tell that she was a nice person, thinking about her mother, her home, her sister, and always about money for some reason.

-You loved Usopp’s stories, despite knowing that they weren’t true, as he wanted to prove himself a brave adventurer, a brave pirate, so he told stories, ones that you loved to listen to.

-Usopp taught you all about plants and taught you how to use a slingshot, something you enjoyed doing as you found it fun.

-Sanji adored being a big brother to you, always willing to dance with you and he loved when you came into the kitchen, wanting to cook with Sanji, something he treasured.

-Sanji’s mind was complex, showing his past with his family, which he tried not to think about, not wanting to think about his family, and the sad times with Zeff, whom he does miss at times.

-If he was with you, Sanji’s thoughts were about how cute you were and about what dishes you would like, but you have seen it, when he’s talking to Robin and Nami or when he sees a pretty girl. You learned why Zoro calls him Ero-Cook, but you kept that quiet.

-Chopper was easily your favorite person, you loved to cuddle and hug him and he loved your attention and affections, treating you nicely, unlike the others whom he called names, while being happy.

-You normally didn’t like doctors, as it reminded you of your own past, but you didn’t mind Chopper, mainly because he wasn’t scary, and he would have you sit in on exams before your own, showing you what he was going to do, so you don’t get scared.

-His thoughts were all over the place, his memories of the snowy land he once called home, the memories he made with the others during their time together, treats and tasty food he got to eat, and how he wanted to work hard to cure everyone!

-Robin was the only person who knew what you could do, it wasn’t that hard to figure out, as you would do things when she would think about it, like if she wanted to go and take a nap, but didn’t want to go alone, you would tug on her hand, asking her to nap with you.

-She stared hard at you when she figured it out, thinking about peanuts and your face lit up with joy, then she started to think about broccoli and your face fell, looking horrified.

-When she confirmed this, she agreed to keep it a secret, but it was amusing to see you reading the others, being able to do things or get out of doing things- you were really a smart child.

-Robin didn’t want you to read her mind, as she didn’t want you to worry, due to her childhood, which you had seen a bit, so you tried not to read her if you could avoid from doing it.

-Franky was so much fun! He taught you how to build things and how things around the ship worked and he adored you constantly asking questions as he loved explaining things to someone who would listen.

-Franky was odd- he would think about odd random things all the time, from cola, to new speedos, building things, and his memories of his mentor.

-When you first met Brook, you thought he was scary, because he was a skeleton. However, you quickly found out that he was funny, telling jokes and you loved to listen to him playing the violin.

-He was a lot like Sanji, being a pervert, except around you, he behaved around you, thinking you were adorable with all the questions you were asking him, wanting to know more about him- to see a child being so interested in him, it warmed his heart.

-You adored Jinbei- he was so cool as you had never met a fishman before, and for him to be on the crew as well, you couldn’t be happier.

-Jinbei loved to take you swimming, and you constantly asked him questions, which warmed his heart, seeing that you weren’t afraid of him in the slightest.

-Jinbei was a very wise person, most of the time, like when he would let Luffy run wild, as everyone knew not to let him do that, and he would tell you stories of his past, when he was a pirate long ago and his adventures leading up to join Luffy’s crew.

-Your crew adored you, as you always seemed to be there when they needed it most, like if they were feeling sad and needed a hug, you were there, arms open and ready, or you would just sit there, giving them an ear to talk to.

-They couldn’t understand, except for Robin, how you were easily able to figure out where things were, like if you were all looking for treasure in a marine base and nobody could find it, you always could, and if they asked, you just smiled, “Lucky guess!”

-You loved being a pirate, as you had a high bounty now too, since you knew government secrets that nobody should ever know, and you liked getting a higher bounty, as you learned that the more zeros on your bounty, the more important you are, as you really weren’t worried about danger, not with your new family protecting you.

[imagitory]

Hi all! So even if I wasn't thrilled with Wish as a final product, I was really inspired by Brittney Lee's wonderful concept art for a more human-esque "Star"...so I decided to take that idea and put my own twist on it! Because as much as I like Brittney Lee's concept, I had two main thoughts in the back of my head while drawing this --

I actually liked that Star in the film wasn't explicitly male or female, and Disney hasn't ever done a non-binary main character in one of their animated films before, so I thought a more androgynous look could be interesting.

The original concept's hair makes him look A LOT like Jack Frost from Dreamwork's Rise of the Guardians, in my opinion -- and yes, although I like Jack, I don't see Star being much like him.

So -- thinking to salute the original idea of the filmmakers to take inspiration from past Disney projects -- I took visual inspiration from several characters, most from the Golden and Silver Age of Disney Animation (except for Puck from Disney's Gargoyles TV series, but come on, he's just fun), so as to play up the mute, but still very extroverted, sweet, playful personality this character would have. Much like mute side characters from some of Disney's previous works like Dopey, Dumbo, and the Spring Sprite, you would never be in doubt about what Star is feeling (if nothing else than because like Tinker Bell, they're prone to change color like a mood ring 😂) -- but as a central character of a full feature film with a very close (possibly even romantic) bond with our heroine Asha, they would have the chance to express a wider range of feelings than their predecessors...not just through their animation, but also (I would add!) a score that captures their mercurial air and feelings as well as Fantasia blended its art seamlessly with famous classical pieces.

To close us out -- some of the instrumental pieces from previous Disney projects that served as a playlist for my image of Star while working on this! Because for me, music and Disney have always gone hand-in-hand, and honestly, a cohesive and powerful score outside of just the lyrical music numbers always makes a Disney film 150% better...and I think in Wish's case, it would've also been elevated, if its music had come together in conjunction with the instrumentals meant for each scene to create a more cohesive score.

On the Rooftop / What's a Kiss / Perturbed Pixie - Peter Pan Bundle of Joy - Inside Out The Nutcracker Suite - Fantasia To Be Free - Aladdin Magical House Cleaning / Blue or Pink - Sleeping Beauty Under the Stars - The Lion King The Crystal Chamber - Atlantis: The Lost Empire Main Title - Return to Neverland

Have a magical night, everyone! xoxo

[an-angel-in-the-garden]

I loved your Jihae dating hcs, I'm so happy to see people still enjoying this game.

Could you do a prompt where after Jihae wins, Jieun offers to send him back to Earth to be with the mc using the court mages. Would Jihae be able to let Jieun go to be with the mc? And if he does, his reaction to the mc taking him back after being gone for years

Okay so I saw this and fell in love with the idea! I am so happy to hear that you liked my Jihae hcs and it's so nice when I get requests for this and Nameless. Small snippet under the cut, note at the end. Hope you enjoy~

I don't think it was easy for Jiaeh to leave Jieun's side

He would feel guilty, like he doesn't deserve that kindness from Jieun after everything that's happened

It took months maybe even a full year of Jieun pushing for Jihae to finally accept the offer

A part of him is scared there's a chance you'd be angry with him for vanishing suddenly or maybe you've already moved on from him

But the worst thing his mind supplies is the idea that you've forgotten him, that all the time you spent together has been wiped away leaving no room for him to come back

Jieun is who gives him the nudge to take that finally step in finding you again, with a promise that everything will be okay and that no matter what he'll always have a place in the Grass Kingdom

Upon seeing you again Jihae is hit with overwhelming emotions it's this sharp and stinging warmth sweeps over him until its hard to think

He hardly noticed his own body moving, his voice was suddenly calling out and his hand reached for you before he could think

It's not the first time he's hugged you like this but he's never felt more whole then right now

After that there was a lot to talk about, you'd both been so busy over the years yet it felt like nothing had changed between you

He was truly happy that you've been doing well and simarrily it was nice that he had manged to stand on his own again, to find things that made him happy

There's such a sense of fulfillment and joy that comes from you accepting him again and still loving him of course he makes it clear his love for you never vanished either

There's a lot to readjust to, he's spent the past for years working as knight again and helping Jieun become a wonderful king

Thanks to that it's once more ingrained into him that serveing is what he must do but that's not needed anymore

It's almost like having to start over but Jihae is happier with himself, he's more willing to let himself be happy

Being together with you is more than he thought he'd get and Jihae wants to make this second chance with you truly unforgettable

It's been four years since the end of this so-called game. A long four years of hardships and work. Even now it felt strange to see the house so empty no longer was it filled with animals or people instead it was just me. Jiaeh and Jieun had both vanished leaving without a proper goodbye but at least my last memories with Jiaeh had been happy. Jiyeon had been the first to leave after that, it didn't even take a full day before he was gone. Jiwoo was next, giving me thanks before leaving for the mountains to write. I bought his first book recently. Jisoo as expected was the last to go, it seems even if he couldn't remember me he still wanted to make sure I was okay. He still lives nearby and sometimes on my way home I pass by where he works. There's an odd comfort in knowing he's still doing okay.

Since then a lot more has changed as well. Just like me and Jihae had talked about, I continued to pursue my passions and did my best to lead a life I love. To some extent I'm glad the Wizard couldn't grant my wish but it stings knowing he couldn’t just come back. Still I find myself hoping he and Jieun are okay, that back in their kingdom they've found a way to be happy. With that in mind here I was looking at my greatest piece yet, a dandelion already being blown apart by the wind. Seeing it here meant everything to me, after so much work it could finally be here and I just wish Jihae could see it, see me. " Y/n!" Could it really be? A voice I hadn't heard in so long was there and real. The warmth of a hand I was familiar with pulled me close and I was blanketed by that beautiful silver. " Jihae!?"

Well would you look at that! This took me some time even though I was really excited for it. I rewrote it more than once before I was really happy with it but I think it turned out well. Pretty sure this is one of if not the longest thing I've written but I really love Jihae so ya know it was worth it. I hope you liked it and thanks again for requesting! ~ Lilly

[acaciapines]

wow i can’t believe king clawthorne is literally a duckling.

[alluringjae]

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ playlist: lows by pink sweat$ | céline by gallant | i put a spell on you by iza | nasty by ariana grande | dance for you by beyonce | body by sinead harnett

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑  leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”  

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

[bestiesenpai]

Youtuber Sukuna pt3

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life! I never thought youtuber sukuna would be so popular, so thank you everyone for giving me encouragement to continue this lil series. This will be the final part, but who’s to say we can’t have an OVA episode?? I smell a beach episode...or maybe a trip to an onsen? Who knows!

Part one --- part two

This had to be the stupidest thing he’d ever done. It certainly felt like it. Scrolling on Pinterest was the last thing he wanted to do, in fact it was something he openly mocked in the past, but now per your advice, he was looking at thousands of photos of home decor.

Sukuna was hesitant to admit to you that he had no furniture in his home. After seeing how well decorated and lived in your home was, it only made his shame increase at being a grown man with foldable furniture. But you took it in stride and offered to help, even making him share a Pinterest board with you so the two of you could get inspiration for a shopping trip.

That’s how he found himself at IKEA on a bright and early Saturday morning. You’d begged him to let you come shopping with him, and Sukuna was a man unable to refuse any request you made of him.

“Ah, this is going to be so exciting!” You shouted, nearly running to the carts at the front of the store. You were clearly more excited than he was, your energy seemed to know no bounds as you bounced on your heels and waited for him to trudge to the front door.

“What’s so exciting about furniture?” He grumbled, subconsciously taking the cart from your hands. Pushing into the store, Sukuna felt like he had been transported to another world. With staged living quarters that looked more real than his own home, he was at a loss for words.

“Sukuna, c’mere!” You were already ten paces ahead, standing at the entrance to one said fake home. Coming upon it, Sukuna nearly gagged at the color palette. There were bright orange tufted couches with a blue area rug and more pillows than he had owned his whole life. With white accents and gunmetal colored lamps, it looked far too much for him.

“It’s ugly.” He said, not caring about the other people around you that seemed to enjoy it.

“Really?” Taking another look around, you shrugged your shoulders and took a step back. “You’re right, it doesn’t really fit your whole vibe.”

That was definitely correct. If Sukuna had to give a name to his personal style it would be ‘who the fuck cares as long as it works’. He wasn’t one to dwell on his looks for too long, just content grabbing clothes that were easily accessible and trendy, ones that he knew would help him fit in. And that habit had bled into his furniture choice as well.

“Okay, you seemed to pin a lot of pictures that look like this-” Leaning over, he watched you scroll past picture after picture of what almost looked like the same thing, a living room with dark colored couches, a white rug and dark colored walls, almost always with a metal or dark wooden coffee table.

“Yeah, it fits me.” Wandering through the store, Sukuna glanced at an all white room with a window frame encasing a faux view of a city lit up at night. “None of this shit.” He made a vague gesture to the room, and the one following it that looked similar.

“You don’t want any bright colors at all?”

“My hair’s already pink, what more do you want?” That made you snort and giggle, and in turn made Sukuna smile.

“Okay but you can’t just have all black furniture, it’ll make your house feel like a dungeon.” Your hand came to rest on the handle of the shopping cart, dangerously close to laying on top of his. “Promise we’ll get at least a little color today? Maybe a yellow, or a pink to match your hair.”

“S-sure.” Sukuna couldn’t look at anything except for your hand. Your pinky finger was just barely touching his, almost enough that Sukuna could slide his hand under yours and interlace your fingers together.

“Ooh, what about this for your bedroom?” And just like that, you were gone. Dashing off to a display on the wall for bed sheets. “You said you only have a plain white one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How about this? This design is really trendy right now.” You were pointing to one that was a deep navy, white grid lines crossing over to make big squares.

“I like it.”

“Awesome! Now, do you have a queen or a king bed?”

After picking out the bed sheets, Sukuna slowly opened up more to the idea of shopping. He was able to recognize pieces he’d seen on Pinterest, picking them out as things he readily liked and would enjoy looking at in his house. He was even persuaded to get a few area rugs for different places in his house, and before he knew it you had piled the basket high with things.

“Ah, today was so much fun!” You sang, bouncing in your seat on the way home from IKEA.

“Now I just need to build all this shit.” Sukuna was amazed at how much you’d convinced him to buy. He had new furniture for his bedroom, a new couch was going to be delivered, a dining table and chairs and even a new desk and chair for his office setup in the corner of his living room.

“Lemme help!” You looked far too eager to help him build, and although Sukuna wanted to tell you no - he really didn’t want you to see how he was currently living - he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to have you in his house with him, working together on something.

“Alright. Let’s stop somewhere and get food though, I’m hungry.”

One quick fast food meal that Sukuna loathed later, you were carrying things up to his apartment. He refused to let you carry the heavy things even if he could really use the help with some of the oblong boxes. But he didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, so you carried the small things.

When everything was inside the house, Sukuna watched your reaction to his place. You hadn’t made a sound when you first arrived, you were probably too busy trying to bring everything in from his car.

“Sukuna…” Scanning his apartment, your eyes landed on his abysmal furniture.

“Yeah?” He screwed his eyes shut, dreading what you had to say.

“This is totally what I expected from you.” You laughed, unpacking some of the fake plants you made him buy. “It totally fits you.” Letting out the breath he’d been holding in, Sukuna grabbed one of the boxes containing his new desk.

“Let’s get started.”

If Sukuna thought cooking with you was hard, building furniture with you was the final boss level. He had you read the instructions while he laid all the pieces out, and when you let out a whine at how many steps there were, Sukuna could have died happily right then and there.

It was easy to build the furniture he bought, but it wasn’t easy to work with you. There was no problem with your actual work, but the fact that Sukuna had to be so close to you at times, nearly hugging you when he had to hold up a piece for you to put a few screws in, it was too much to handle.

He quickly banished you to work on another project. It was your fault he kept getting distracted and forgetting what step he was on, so the only solution was to work on separate things. Plus, watching you flit around his house, hearing you change the bed sheets and lay down a new mat in the bathroom made him feel like you were newlyweds decorating your first home together.

“It looks so good in here!” It was well past dark when you finished everything. It truly did look like a brand new space, and not just in the living room. The touches you’d added, with bright pillows, fake plants and some actual art on the walls, made Sukuna happy to be home. His place finally felt like a home and not just somewhere to crash at the end of the day.

“You did a great job picking shit out, I woulda never been able to do all this.” Putting his arm around your shoulder, he gave you a squeeze.

“Are you gonna do a house tour when the couch and table come?” A house tour? Why would he do that? Knitting his brows together, Sukuna sent you a look. “C’mon, you know what a house tour is! All the popular Youtubers do them.” You giggled, wiggling your eyebrows. “And aren’t you a popular Youtuber?”

“I-” Well, you had him beat there. His subscriber count was well into the millions at this point. “Okay, I’ll do one when the rest of the stuff comes.”

“Yes!” Bouncing up and down in joy, you clapped your hands together. “I’ll help you film, I know how bad you are at angles.”

“Hey! I’ve been getting better!”

In a week, you were back at his place, more excited than him to film this video. You’d helped prepare a little script should he need it, and you were fluffing all the pillows so they looked nice on camera.

“Let’s have an entryway shot, those always look so cool!”

“Whatever you say.” Sukuna was merely a puppet on your strings, maneuvering however you saw fit. He made his hands as steady as possible getting b-roll shots of everything in advance.

“If you forget what to say, remember I made a script!” With that final warning, you were standing at the entrance to his apartment and waving your hand. “Okay, start!”

“Hi people on the internet. This is my house tour that (Y/N) is making me do.”

“Shut up!” You laughed behind the camera, trying not to shake it.

“This is my kitchen and dining room, (Y/N) picked out the table and chairs for me.” Doing a sweep over the kitchen, he transitioned to the living room. “And this is the lounge room, where (Y/N) picked out the couch and rug, and my desk stuff over there.”

“Yeah, Sukuna had no rugs in his apartment before!”

“Mhmm.” Somehow Sukuna managed to not stumble over his words, easily recalling parts of the script you had written for him. Highlighting the fake plants and cheap art on the walls, the two of you stood in the bathroom together.

“Look, it’s us!” You waved to the camera in the mirror, nudging your shoulder with Sukuna. Suddenly, the image of getting ready in the morning with you or winding down after a long day together in the bath flashed before Sukunas eyes. What would it be like to come into the bathroom while you were in the shower and join you? Give you a shoulder massage under the hot running water, or to brush his teeth and tell you to hurry up and not waste water.

“And this is the bedroom.” Quickly exiting the bathroom, Sukuna hid his blush with his hand as he entered the room.

“Hold this.” Shoving the camera in his hands, you leapt onto the bed. “This is where I sleep!” Your laugh was easy and you rolled around his bed a few times, simply having fun wrinkling the sheets.

“Uh- w-wha-” Sukuna nearly dropped the camera in shock. Seeing you in his bed, even if it was just on top of the sheets fully clothed, made his heart stop. Gripping the camera hard in his suddenly sweaty hands, Sukuna nearly tossed it to the side and joined you.

“Just kidding!” You were already climbing out of bed as soon as that thought entered his head. “But isn’t this room pretty? I picked out most of the stuff in here too.” Just like that you were back to normal, talking about some random print on the wall that he’d ordered per your suggestion.

Needless to say, Sukuna had a hard time falling asleep that night, the image of you in his bed burned into his mind like it was the only thought he’d ever have again. His imagination was going wild, and he tossed and turned all night - even after relieving some tension.

With his new desk setup, Sukuna felt motivated to edit the video as fast as he could. What you said about improving his living quarters was true; now that his place looked nice, he felt nice in turn. He even left in the part where you jumped on his bed, adding a funny break in the video like you’d shown him.

‘IT’S CONFIRMED. IT’S CONFIRMED. THEY’RE DATING’

‘sirpohdjb my ship has sailed!!’

‘I come here to see why sukunax(Y/N) is trending and it’s this bullshit?? Y’all need to get a life’

Sukuna often felt like a fool when he was with you, and sometime after as well. Even from the first comment he left on your Instagram, he knew people shipped you together and wanted you to date. He felt embarrassed more times than not, but it seemed he never learned his lesson. That scene of you on his bed had gone viral and he regretted leaving it in.

But could you blame him? You made his head spin, most of the time leaving him incapable of doing anything else beside standing in his place looking stupid. It was hard to edit the videos you did together because reliving the footage made him dizzy all over again.

(Y/N): SUKUNA. ANSWER ME ITS URGENT

It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week and Sukuna had nothing better to do than laze around and do nothing. Except now, he was texting you back with his heart suddenly pounding.

Sukuna: what?! Is something wrong where are you??

So much adrenaline was coursing through his body that he had started to shake.

(Y/N): I just got a great idea, I need to know if you’ll do a video with me!

What the fuck.

“What the fuck?” Sukuna said out loud, staring at his phone in disbelief. This is what was so urgent? Nearly sending him into an early grave for a possible video?

Sukuna: what the fuck I thought it was serious

Sukuna: I thought you were in trouble

He wasn’t upset per say, but Sukuna was definitely annoyed.

(Y/N): sorry :( i didn’t mean to scare you

Sukuna: you did more than scare me

(Y/N): I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!

Now Sukuna felt bad and it wasn’t even his fault. In all the time you’d known each other, you never had a negative interaction. He waited five minutes for you to text something, but you didn’t and it was making him anxious all over again.

Sukuna: well tell me what the idea is

(Y/N): no, it’s okay it was a stupid idea anyway

It took you another five minutes to respond, and your answer made Sukuna groan.

Sukuna: you got me all worked up and you’re just gonna leave me hanging?

He had to rectify the situation somehow.

(Y/N): I just thought...of maybe doing your makeup for a video?

Sukuna: what

(Y/N): I told you it was stupid! Just forget it

Sukuna: shut up it’s not stupid

As typing bubbles appeared and then disappeared, Sukuna could just imagine the way your cheeks puffed out indignantly.

(Y/N): here’s a link to someone else who did it with her boyfriend, they had so much fun together!

(Y/N): let me know if you wanna do it, I think it could be a lot of fun…

Sukuna only needed to look at the thumbnail to know he would say yes. The two people on the screen were very close, with the girl nearly touching her boyfriend's face with her own. They had big smiles on their faces as well, and that enticed him more.

Sukuna: I’ll do it

(Y/N): really?? That’s awesome! Come over to my place on Friday, we’ll order pizza and make a day of it!

And that’s how Sukuna found himself in your filming room, stomach full of pizza with a disgustingly cute green frog headband keeping his hair back. He’d seen this room a hundred times in the backgrounds of your videos, but now he was actually here. There were even more plushies than appeared on camera and you had a humidifier going in the corner.

“Okay now stay still, I’m going to wipe a toner on your face.” He had no idea what that meant, watching you with curious eyes pick up a bottle from the table in front of you and dab the liquid onto a cotton pad. “Usually I use my hands to apply toner, but we wanna wipe the dust off.”

With a gentle hand, you held Sukuna by the chin and swiped the cotton across his face, it’s soft chemical scent wafting into his nose. It felt nice, having you apply toner and moisturizer on his face. The most he ever applied was sunscreen, but maybe he could convince you to do his skincare for him every day.

“So today, I chose this makeup look by Beyoncés makeup artist! It’s a really popular style called ‘soft glam’.” Sukuna nodded along with you like he understood what you meant, taking a glance at the picture on your phone before you showed it to the camera. “I think Sukuna would really fit this kind of look, he is a natural beauty afterall.”

“Shut up.” He snorted, a light flush heating his cheeks.

“It’s true! There’s so many comments under your house tour video saying how good you look with the new furniture.” You spoke about the new makeup you bought for the video as you applied the products. Sukuna tried to keep up with what you were doing and saying, but he couldn’t really contribute anything to the conversation about makeup.

“Tuck your lips in so you don’t get foundation in your mouth.”

“What?” He jerked away right as you lifted the small dish you had with what he assumed was foundation.

“I don’t think you want to eat makeup, do you?” You chuckled and pat him on the cheek. “Tuck your lips in.” Doing as you asked, Sukuna flinched when you gripped the back of his head. “Try not to move too much, I want it to be even.”

As you applied the foundation and subsequently the concealer and powder, Sukuna barely moved. In fact, he barely breathed. You had leaned in far closer than you’ve ever been to him, your breath lightly fanning over his face as you worked to smooth everything out.

The hand on the back of his head dipped down to rest at the base of his neck, your body coming to lean more onto him as time went by. You were speaking, Sukuna could hear it, but he wasn’t responding. The excuse was he didn’t want to mess you up, but in truth he couldn’t find any words to say.

“Look at you!” Holding up a mirror for him, you laughed at his shocked face. “How do you like it?”

“I look so flat.” Turning his head side to side, Sukuna lifted a hand to touch his face.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll mess it up!” Snatching his hand away, you held it tightly in your grasp. Sukuna was thankful for the layer of makeup he had on now, no one could see his blush.

“What’s next? This eyeshadow shit?” He picked up a product on a whim, opening it up and staring at it. “Why’s there only two colors? Why are both of them brown?”

“That’s contour, we’ll get to that! This is the eyeshadow!”

Putting eyeshadow on Sukuna was harder than both of you thought. Not used to the feeling of the brush, he twitched every time it was swiped across his eyelid. Through plenty of trial and error, and many times of you telling him to just take a deep breath, you got through it.

“I’m gonna have to cut out so much of you flinching.” You teased, checking the camera to make sure everything was still working.

“I don’t get how you can do this shit, it’s fucking awful.” All Sukuna wanted to do was rub his eyes and face until his skin went raw.

“We aren’t even at the worst part yet: eyeliner.” Taking a seat, you lifted up a simple black pen.

“Oh god.” Hanging his head, Sukuna said a quick prayer for his eyes before straightening up and taking a deep breath.

“Sukuna, I gotta ask you something.”

“What is it?” Cracking an eye open, you were looking at him with your lip caught between your teeth.

“Can I...I need to sit in your lap to do eyeliner.” Sukuna audibly and quite loudly gasped in shock, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. “When I help my friends with eyeliner I sit in their laps! It’s just easier that way!”

“I-I uhm- okay?” He eventually forced the word out, copying your movements and turning his chair to face yours. “What uh- what should I…?”

“Sit still.” Pulling your chair flush with his, you pushed Sukuna’s legs closed and scooted up his thighs until your butt was firmly seated on him. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, you uncapped the eyeliner. “There, now I can get started.”

Sukuna was in so much shock, he didn’t move. Even when the eyeliner tickled the inner corner of his eye, even when you moved his hands to rest near your lower back so you wouldn’t slide off, even when you did the bottom lashline, he was frozen.

If this is what heaven looked like for him, he would gladly take it and never leave. Your face was so close, he could feel it even when his eyes were closed. The soft skin of your hand held his powdered cheek gently, keeping yourself steady as you drew the lines on his eyes.

“All done.” You whispered. Sukuna opened his eyes and made a noise in the back of his throat; your face was close enough that if he tried to focus too hard he’d go cross eyed. You weren’t paying attention to his reaction at all, too focused on making sure his eyes were even.

The rest of the time went by in a blur. You’d slid off his lap after that, diving right into putting more powders on his cheeks. Swiping thick gloss on his lips is what drew him out of his stupor and into another one as you once again held his chin, swiping the corner of his mouth with your thumb when you were done.

“Sukuna, you look so good!” You said with a slight whine, showing all angles of his face off to the camera before showing him. “You have to promise when you get rich and famous and become a global celebrity that you won’t forget about me.”

“Shut up, you know I won’t.” He said with a smirk, swiping the mirror from you. “(Y/N)...I look fucking hot.” Bursting into laughter, you wiped imaginary sweat off your brow.

“Well I guess I don’t have to ask how you like it!” Patting him on the back, you got up to stretch and check the camera one last time.

“Would you fuck me, ‘cause I’d fuck me.” Sukuna said to himself, striking a few poses in the mirror and for the camera. “Hey, you watching this video you better fucking share this with all your friends. Everyone needs to see how hot I am.”

“We should have ordered you some clothes, turned you into an Instagram baddie!” You teased from behind the camera.

“Please, I don’t need fancy clothes when I’m this sexy.” Running a hand through his hair, Sukuna pointed the mirror at you. “Be honest (Y/N), you wanna date me right now. I look so hot, I bet I’m gonna have thousands of DM’s.” Sukuna’s confidence was the highest it's ever been around you. For some reason, the makeup gave him more assurance.

“Well let me know when to schedule a date with you then, I’d love to grab dinner sometime.”

“I’ll have my assistant pencil you in.” He joked, looking back at himself in the mirror. Sitting back down, you ended the video and made Sukuna wave to the camera. Not turning off the lights you used to film, you made him snap several pictures with you.

“This video was so much fun, Sukuna, thank you!” Rocking back and forth in your seat, you had a demure look while you fiddled with your phone. “And I wasn’t joking about dinner. I really like you, Sukuna.” That made Sukuna stop in his tracks, nearly throwing the mirror down in shock as he turned to look at you.

“Huh?!”

“I-I mean- I mean I like hanging out with you!” Obviously embarrassed, you leaped from your seat and began turning the filming lights off, pointedly avoiding his gaze. Both yours and Sukunas faces were burning with embarrassment, awkwardly not looking at each other.

“(Y/N)...” Sukuna half stood from his chair, forcing himself to move despite how awkward he felt. “I-”

“Let’s wash off that makeup now, I bet it’s uncomfortable.” Keeping your eyes trained on the floor, you went to the door. “I’ll show you what to use in the bathroom.”

The tension in the air was thick after that, and it remained that way for a few days after. Sukuna knew what he heard, he saw how your face looked as you said you liked him, he could hear the sincerity in your voice. But it obviously wasn’t something you were ready to say, as evident as you not texting him as much as you usually did.

When the video went up, Sukuna immediately felt butterflies in his stomach all over again watching it. Reminded of how close you were to him made him ache to have you near him, and seeing you sitting on his lap had another feeling rising in his stomach, warming him up in an embarrassing way.

He patrolled the comments as usual, but there were no mean ones that he could yell at. All of them were screaming about how the video just confirms that the two of you are dating, and surprisingly they weren’t calling out him for looking like he was in love with you.

The comments teased you this time, keen longtime viewers of yours pointing out specific timestamps where you looked embarrassed or looked like you wanted to kiss him. Sukuna checked out every single one, liking the comment for showing him that what you said earlier wasn’t a mistake.

Ever since that day, it seemed like you were promoting on Instagram and Twitter a lot more. Sukuna already had notifications turned on for all your socials and there was a definite uptick in your content posted to those platforms.

There were more sponsored posts and polls posted asking your followers for style advice, and which beauty items they preferred more. Sukuna was happy to see you got an increase in brand deals from the video you did together, a video that had now easily reached five million views and counting. He congratulated you whenever he saw a sponsored post, sending you cute little emojis along with the praise.

All week you had been hinting that there was a big announcement coming, a major event in your life that you were so excited to share with everyone. Sukuna, along with all your other followers, ate up all the crumbs you left throughout the week. Many suspected you were going to go work for a designer label, while others assumed you’d announce a sudden marriage.

(Y/N): Sukuna, check Instagram!

You texted him in the evening on Friday, but he didn’t need the update. He was already on your page when the post was dropped, waiting impatiently for the picture to load.

“A TV show, huh?” As he read the promo photo, he smiled. Appearing on a TV show was a big opportunity for you, one that was sure to lead to many more. Your role wasn’t stated in the photo, but your promo picture was a professional one no doubt taken at a studio.

“Wait, what?” When Sukuna got to the caption, he took a pause. Why were you going on a dating show? He read the words over and over, hoping for a different outcome each time. But there was no denying you’d be going on a dating show.

Checking out the show's page, Sukuna let out a groan. All the male contestants were hot and not even he could deny it. Some had muscles like he did, others were more unconventionally attractive.

Sukuna: you’re going on a dating show?

It took him a while to text you back. In fact, it took nearly thirty minutes for him to text you. Sukuna had gone through all five stages of grief several times, coming back to being in denial over and over again.

Dragging his feet to his kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of wine that one of his rich clients at the gym gifted him. Popping the cork, he collapsed onto his couch and took a long drink from the bottle.

(Y/N): yeah, I’m super nervous!

Sukuna: I bet

Oh, did he fucking bet. He’d gone through all the male contestants' Instagram pages, trying to talk them down in an attempt to lessen the blow that he could potentially lose you to one of them. Why did he have to wait so long to confess to you? Now the chance was gone, possibly forever.

(Y/N): what do you think about the show? I was kind of scared to take the deal

You didn’t want to know how he really felt.

Sukuna: it’s a great opportunity, great for exposure and it’s a lot of money

(Y/N): that’s true!! I’ll have to treat you to dinner with my first TV check!

Just great, a chance for you to gush about whoever you met on the dating show. Taking another long drink from the bottle, Sukuna crumpled even more into his couch. Back were the stages of grief, each emotion washing over him until he mustered up the courage to do something about it.

“Hello?” You answered the phone, confused as to why Sukuna called you instead of replying to your messages.

“(Y/N).” Sukuna said your name firmly, honing in on a spot in the ceiling. Swallowing around a growing lump in his throat, Sukuna forced the next words out. “I like you. I-I really, really like you.”

“What?” He could hear you gasp over the phone.

“I know, what kind of asshole confesses to you when you’re about to go on a TV dating show?” He chuckled, taking a deep breath. “But it’s true. I wanna be your boyfriend, (Y/N). I know it’s too late to back out of the show but-”

“Sukuna-”

“No, let me say this. I know it’s too late to back out, and-”

“Sukuna!”

“And I don’t want to hold you back from finding someone better suited-”

“Sukuna!”

“Better suited for you than me. I’m just a dumb, muscled up chump that-”

“Sukuna I’m a stylist, not a contestant!” You were finally able to get a word in, face flushed from the sudden onslaught of emotions going through you. Sukuna was silent on the other end, mouth hanging open as he processed the words.

“Y-you’re a...a stylist? So you won’t be dating any of them?” He whispered after a few moments, the shock starting to wear off and being replaced with humiliation.

“Yeah, I’ll be on the styling team.” Your voice also dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words beginning to settle down on the both of you.

“Oh god.” Putting the bottle down, Sukuna slapped himself in the forehead. He had never felt like a bigger idiot than in this moment. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, just- just forget it.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t want to forget it. I...I want you to be my boyfriend too, Sukuna.” There was a pregnant pause, and you could practically hear Sukuna’s brain working overdrive.

“Let’s go out on a date!” He shouted, pushing himself off the couch and to a shaky stand. “I’m free whenever, let’s go on a date!” The alcohol was definitely affecting him more than he first thought, and Sukuna fell back down onto the couch.

“Really? Okay, how about tomorrow? That’s like the only day with good weather for the rest of the week.”

“I’ll pick you up at noon.”

Sleeping restlessly through the night, Sukuna woke up way earlier than his alarm. Taking an obscene amount of time getting ready, he was still early to your house. Taking a lap around the block, he went to a flower shop and bought you a handful of flowers.

“Hi.” Your voice was soft, almost meek as you entered his car.

“Hey. I got you these.” Handing you the flowers, Sukuna bit his lip nervously.

“That’s so sweet, thank you!” Gently hugging them to your chest, your nerves began to melt away and you smiled, making Sukuna smile as well.

Sukuna once again had you pick the cafe you were going to. This one was in a bustling downtown street, not in the middle of the countryside, and as you two walked down the street there were couples passing you left and right.

Snagging an outdoor seat, Sukuna went inside to order for you. This cafe, unlike the last, actually served coffee and Sukuna was quick to get a large cup of it. Buying a few croissants cutely decorated with various creams, he went back outside.

“Say, you’re really cute, why don’t we sit and chat for a bit?” An unknown man was standing near your table, and Sukuna caught the tail end of his sentence.

“N-no, I’m good.” Your eyes were glued to your lap, obviously uncomfortable with the attention you were receiving.

“Aw, really? A pretty face like yours shouldn’t be all alone!” The man had a sleazy grin on his face, visibly eyeing you up in a salacious manner. “My name is-”

“Baby, who’s this guy?” Sukuna had had enough. Stepping right up to the table, he nearly slammed the tray in his hands down on the table. Your head shot up, relief flashing across your face.

“Who are you?” The man scoffed, curling his lip in disgust.

“I’m their boyfriend. Who the fuck are you?” Puffing up his chest a little bit, Sukuna stared the man down.

“Boyfriend? They didn’t say anything about having a boyfriend.” The man attempted to look at you again, but Sukuna beat him to it and caught your eye instead.

“Geez baby, I know we had that fight before we came but I’m hurt! If I get rid of this creep, will you call me your boyfriend again?” Laying a heavy hand on the man's shoulder, Sukuna gave it a squeeze.

“Y-you’re always gonna be my boyfriend, dummy.”

“That just warms my heart!” Sighing loudly, Sukuna gave the man a not so subtle push away from the table. “Well, you heard ‘em. Get lost, you worthless sack of shit.” Grumbling, the man walked away and Sukuna took his rightful seat next to you.

“Thank you.” Immediately, you latched onto him, squeezing his arm in a tight hug as you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” Wrapping you up more tightly in a hug, Sukuna pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I would have beat him up if you wanted. Men are fucking disgusting.”

“Sukuna, you are a man.” You laughed lightly.

“Exactly my point.” Rubbing a hand on your back, Sukuna picked up one of the croissants. “I hope you like these because I can already tell it’ll be too sweet for me.” You laughed again and sat up, keeping your face close to his.

“I have something sweet for you too, I hope you like it.”

“What is it?” Quirking a brow, Sukuna jumped when you planted your lips on his. The kiss didn’t last long and the taste of your lip balm and feel of your lips was permanently engraved into Sukunas brain.

“There.” Your cheeks were absolutely on fire, shame rolling off of you in waves at having your first kiss in a crowded cafe on a busy day in the city. It wasn’t even a particularly romantic setting, but something spurred you to do it.

“W-what the hell! You can’t just do that!” Sukuna gasped, his own cheeks burning a deep, scalding red. “You gotta warn a guy first!” His dramatics were drawing attention from the other patrons, making the situation even worse.

“Sshh, you’re being too loud!”

“Like I care! Kiss me again, I’m ready this time!” Grabbing you by the shoulders, Sukuna tried to kiss you.

“W-wait, there’s people watching!”

“I don’t give a fuck who’s watching!” Grabbing your chin, Sukuna kissed you much firmer than when you kissed him. It lasted longer as well, bordering on too long for what is accepted in public. “There.” Pulling away slightly out of breath, Sukuna sat back in his seat and took a sip of his coffee.

“You’re so embarrassing.” You whined, hiding your face in your hands and hitting Sukuna with your head.

“All I’m hearing is how great of a boyfriend I am.”

“No you’re not.” You countered, getting wrapped in a side hug by Sukuna.

“It’s debatable.” Picking up the croissant he dropped, Sukuna took a bite. “Hm, this is sweet but not as sweet as that kiss you gave me.”

“Sukuna!”

[goldengoddess]

soooo the idea is a fic set during king of scars where the reader is nikolai's childhood best first and we stumble into his room one evening and we actually see him change into the demon and just absjajnsns

i am yours - nikolai lantsov

* KING OF SCARS & RULE OF WOLVES SPOILERS *

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader

a/n: okay this is absolutely garbage rae i am so sorry pls forgive me,,, i KNOW this is not how nikolai’s demon works and he wouldn’t just like turn back but for the sake of this fic pls pretend <33333

for the lovley @wtfrae !!! i love u pls go read her work everyone <3

warnings: spoilers! some angst n like threat of violence but y’all know me, everything is good and happy by the end

nikolai had always been the one person you could turn to. since the two of you were kids, it had always been an unbreakable bond. something no one else seemed to understand. how to kids, tossed aside by their family, tested in every way possible, were able to find each other and bring out the best in one another. nikolai made you better, made you good.

life in ravka was never easy, it was a constant struggle. especially in the years leading up to nikolai’s reign. the two of you almost hadn’t made it out alive then, and while nikolai had been out fighting with alina in the fold, you had stayed at the spinning wheel helping the injured.

but when things finally settled down, alina and mal safe and away, nikolai had told you so many stories. the two of you had spent months apart. so out of nostalgia, every night you’d sneak into nikolai’s room and listen to your best friend tell you stories about everything. all the battles he’d fought along as sturmhond, what the battle against the darkling had looked like.

and even when nikolai ran out of stories, and you ran out of questions, you kept sneaking into his room to talk to him. he was the king of ravka, during the day he never even stopped to take a breath. but his nights were reserved for you. just so he could hear the sound of your voice before he was bound to his bed by chains.

nikolai loved you dearly, you were the only constant he had ever known. but he couldn’t bring himself to share what had happened to him during the battle with the darkling, what he’d become. instead, he told you the stories he told everyone else, how he was captured and tortured. it hurt him, to lie to you. but he couldn’t have you seeing him the way he saw himself, a monster. so even though lying to you pained him every night, he would do it to hear your excited questions and giggles as you snuck out of his room.

he always made sure you were gone before zoya came in. he wouldn’t be able to explain the drugging potion. or even worse, his horrible transformation into the demon that lived inside of him.

but secrets almost never stay secrets.

“saints nikolai,” you gasped, rushing off his bed to grab grab your coat, “it’s past midnight. i can’t be in here!”

nikolai sat up and looked out his window, you watched the color drain from his face. he cleared his throat and walked over to you, “you’re right you should probably go.”

you nodded and shuffled away from him, but before opening the door you paused. you turned back to the blonde haired boy, “nikolai?”

“yes sweetheart?” he answered, facing you.

“i could,” you hesitated, “i could sleep over. one night, i’m not saying tonight. just some night. i’ll sleep on the floor but, i spend all of my night here anyways. just like when we were kids.”

as nikolai slowly walked closer to you, you waited for his teasing remark and eventual acceptance. the two of you w had a sleepover since before he left ravka. of course it wouldn’t be the same, as he was now king, but he was your nikolai.

instead, he gently tucked a piece of your hair and kissed your forehead. “i don’t think that’s such a good idea sweetheart.”

your heart shattered at his words and his at the fact that he had to say them. there was nothing he wanted more. nothing that would bring him more peace than holding you in his arms until the sunrise. not just for a couple of hours right before bed, not having to pretend that everything he felt for you was strictly platonic.

“oh” you said defeatedly. “that, yeah that’s okay. i’ll see you tomorrow nikolai.” and with that you rushed out of the room.

later, as zoya gave nikolai genya and david’s potion to knock him out, all he could think about was the horrible look on your face.

at some point in the night you’d made the decision to go talk to nikolai. the two of you couldn’t go on like this, attempting to be way you have been before the darkling and alina while tip toeing around these new feelings you had for eachother.

but as you made your way to nikolai’s doors, hand on the doorknob, you heard a soft growl coming from inside. you covered your mouth with your hand to prevent a gasp from escaping your lips. you slowly turned the handle and stepped into the room.

on nikolai’s kingly bed was a dark giant looking demon. it’s wings were the color of the night sky seen in the window of the bed room. it took your breath away.

you pressed your back against the wall, trying to move back towards the door without making any noise. but the demon heard you and snapped it’s head in your direction.

every part of your body was screaming to run, to scream even. but something stopped you. the eyes. they stopped you. they were dark and pitch black but there was something familiar about them. not the color but the way they watched you. like they were trying to remember every single part of you just in case.

nikolai was the only person who you knew looked at you that way.

“nikolai?” you whispered to the monster.

the creature craned its neck to the side, similar to the confused head tilts that nikolai used to give you during lessons. you took a hesitant step forward, holding your hands up to show that you weren’t going to cause harm.

“nikolai” you tried again, with more conviction in your voice.

the creature let out a small growl as a response and you flinched away. at your movement it out a whine and moved away from you.

you shuffled closer, “hey no no i’m okay. nikolai?”

slowly, as you repeated your best friends name over and over, the creature became less beast and more man. slowly morphing into a messy set of blonde curls and body you’d hugged more times than you can recall. your nikolai.

he curled up in a ball and leaned his back against the end of his bed.

“nikolai” you attempted softly, falling to your knees in front of him.

he scrambled away to a corner of the room, “please. please leave. i’m begging.” his voice was raspy from misuse, thought the two of you had spoken only hours before.

“nikolai i’m not leaving, please explain to me. what was that?” you pleaded with him.

“that was nothing, now go. please please” he sobbed into his hands.

you crossed your arms over your chest in a stubborn gesture that he couldn’t even see, “you’re lying to me again! i’m not leaving until you explain what that was. why can’t you tell me the truth for once?”

“that was me!” he yelled as he lifted his head and met your eyes for the first time.

you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar hazel color of his eyes. you crossed your legs together, “that was you?”

“yes that was me. that is what the darkling did to me. now please,” he let out an exhausted sob “please leave sweetheart.”

you felt tears swelling in your own eyes at his voice. how broken he sounded. your nikolai never sounded so defeated. and if he ever felt that way, he had never shown you. you crawled over to him slowly and placed your hands on the sides of his face, rubbing away the tears.

“what are you doing” he whimpered and dropped his head into your hands, “i could hurt you. sweetheart, you have to go.”

“my nikolai” you whispered, pushing his damp hair away from his forehead.

he closed his eyes and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger, exhaustion, sadness, or a mix of all of it. “i cannot be yours. i’ve lied to you, i’m a demon, a monster. you can’t possibly want me to be yours.” he spit each word about himself as if it were venom, like the words ripped away a little bit of his humanity, or his confidence.

you shook your head and softly placed your forehead again his, still holding the sides of his face. “no. you’re my nikolai. you always will be.”

you placed two soft kisses on his cheeks, one on each side. “my” kiss, “nikolai,” another kiss.

“oh sweetheart, i am yours” he sighed and opened up his knees so you could fall into his embrace. “i am so sorry.”

“you should be” you mumbled into his chest. “what if you had died nikolai? and i wouldn’t have known what was happening to you until it was too late. i could have helped.”

he kissed the top of your head, still hesitantly. “im a fool, you can spend the rest of my life reminding me. i didn’t want to ruin this, us. it’s the last precious thing i have in my life.”

“we are still precious” you whispered and clung to his shirt like your life depended on it. “the same way you are still the nikolai i have always known, since childhood. you are still good. we will fix this.”

“and if we can’t?” he asked so softly that you almost couldn’t hear him.

“then i’ll have to get just as familiar with the demon as i am with you” you joked.

and the rumble of nikolai’s laughing chest told you that everything would be perfectly fine. demon and all, he was still your nikolai.

taglist;

@deardiarystuff @bookishcrows @kazsimp @vintagebitc @obiwansjedi @thegirlwiththeimpala @hybrid-in-progress @mrs-brekker15 @mrsbrekkers @simplyluvzuko @ode-to-joy @gallysonegoodlung @sixofshadowandbone @castielcouldbeasecretdentist @meiitanoia @caaarstairs @itisroe

if your name is in bold, it means i couldn’t tag you <3

[green-socks]

What More Could I Ever Need prologue

Pairing: Benny Miller x F!reader (Tangled AU)

Summary: Tangled AU where Benny is in the role of Rapunzel (without the hair thing) and reader is basically a female Flynn Rider. A criminal running from the law and a boy who has lived locked up in a tower go on an adventure together. And yes, there is an animal sidekick.

Words: 1,012

Warnings: kidnap of a child

Notes: Why yes it is another Benny AU based on a movie where I have reversed the roles (I definitely have a problem). Presenting Disney prince Benny! And I sort of blame @madrefiero for making me obsessed with this idea because she keeps (unknowingly) feeding me with inspo pics but I truly love it. A billion thanks to @writeforfandoms who has listened me ramble about this way too much and read it through to soothe my nerves <33. Oh and the title is from a song that was supposed to be on the movie soundtrack but wasn't. I couldn't resist opening with "once upon a time" and I won't apologize. But after that I will get normal I promise.

The pic is pretty much what prince Ben looks like to me.

MASTERLIST

Once upon a time there was a prosperous kingdom, ruled by a beloved king and queen. They had everything they could want, but there was a piece missing from their lives. Their dearest wish was to have a child, not just to have an heir, but a child to love.

After several years of hoping, the queen finally gave birth to a beautiful baby boy with golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and the brightest smile. The day of the baby’s birth the sun shone so brightly that everyone present swore the new prince had been baptized with little drops of sunlight.

They weren’t wrong.

-

The little prince’s cheerful nature and sunshine energy seemed to only grow as he himself grew.

The queen simply doted on her son and refused to give him over to a nurse for more than what was absolutely necessary. She even put him to sleep every night by herself, holding her precious son close to her chest, singing him to sleep.

The queen sang to her child all the time, in fact, and at just a few months old he started humming tunes after his mother, mimicking the melodies. The first time that happened the queen felt like she had just drunk a cup of very strong coffee. Such was the joy of motherhood, she thought as she beamed at her son.

Month by month little Benjamin’s singing got stronger and stronger. And then one time the queen’s flu just disappeared when she was holding Ben and he hummed a melody to her. That was when she started believing there was something truly special about the boy. And it kept on happening until the nurse noticed it, the maids noticed it - even the palace cat seemed much more energetic after being petted by the humming baby.

And the word spread - as it so often does in big palaces like that. The staff talked amongst themselves, and then someone went home and told their family, who told their friend at the pub, and so on and so on.

Word of the rumored magical golden boy who possessed some kind of healing powers reached even the farthest corners of the kingdom. It so happened that they reached a woman who was struggling with the health issues getting older had brought along, and she wanted to see for herself if it really was true.

So she searched work as a cleaning maid at the castle. That way she was free to roam the palace unnoticed and gather information on the young prince.

One night she sneaked into the prince’s room through the balcony and tried to get him to sing to her. She held the baby in her arms and croaked a lullaby she knew.

And the baby started humming with her.

Instantly, she felt her pains going away. She felt younger even.

In that moment the woman made a decision - she would take the baby with her and raise him far away from the palace. Train his singing even more so that he could keep her young for years and years. The king and queen didn’t need this child’s magical powers, she reasoned, they were healthy and easily rich enough to afford any and all remedies if they happened to get sick.

And so she grabbed the baby from his crib and ran.

A palace guard saw her running away from the palace, only her cloak billowing behind her. He heard the baby’s cries getting farther from him with every step the woman took and realized what must have happened.

He alerted the other guards instantly, and they chased after the woman, but she had vanished. They searched for days through all the kingdom, but they could not find the young prince anywhere.

Eventually the king and queen had to tell the people to give up the search and admit that their son was probably in a land far away by now.

But they never gave up hope.

Every year on the prince’s birthday, the king and queen along with all the people in the kingdom released lanterns into the sky at night, partly as a prayer that their son would someday find his way back home, and partly to thank the sun for blessing their son with that drop of sunlight when he was born, the biggest gift they could have asked for.

--------

Meanwhile, little Benjamin grew up away from his parents, locked up in a tall tower hidden deep in a forest. The woman, Dagmar, who had kidnapped him raised him as her own, and fed him a new life story. By the time Benny was a little older, he had no memory of his true parents or true home and believed everything Dagmar had told him.

He was told that he could not go outside, because terrible things would happen to him; mean people would try to harm him. For Benny knew he was special, that his song could heal, and he knew that his mother only wanted to protect him. She explained to him that people had tried to do bad things to him when he was only a baby, and the thought scared him.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t sometimes long to go outside. Oh yes, he was curious; he wondered what it would be like if he ever went outside - would he be brave enough to face it?

-

Every year on his birthday Benny snuck out of his bedroom at night to go to the window and watch these odd lights flying across the sky.

For some reason he was drawn to them. Maybe it was because they showed up only on his birthdays, or maybe because they proved to him that there truly were other people somewhere out there. He didn’t really know what the lights were, or what they meant, but sometimes he thought they looked like drops of sunlight floating back towards the sleeping sun.

Those mysterious lights, more than anything else, made him dream about someday venturing outside to the real world.

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

Chapter 1

tagsies @writeforfandoms @starlightmornings

[chaozsilhouette]

Moonlit Musings

The night is such a perfect time to face one’s darkest truths. Shrouded in the moon’s light what can one do but admit to their flaws. It can be a time of rejuvenation and rebirth, only if you let it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

It was a quiet night.

The full moon hung high in the heavens accompanied by millions of stars. Not a cloud to be seen, an ideal night for passions to run wild. Normally people would be taking out their telescopes or arranging romantic picnics.

Sadly, nights like these only filled Sun Wukong with dread. It was a night like this when he was finally able to return after the Journey. That was the night he learned he had lost a precious treasure.

When he returned, he expected to be greeted by his subjects until Macaque showed himself. He expected to be strangled as the pale furred monkie admonished him for his recklessness. He expected to watch as fury transformed into tearful joy as they embraced one another for the first time in over five hundred years.

But that wasn’t what happened.

The moment he set foot back onto Flower Fruit Mountain, he sensed something was very wrong. Like his previous return trips, his subjects greeted him with loud celebrations. The new mothers showed off their infants. The young ones wasted no time climbing all over him, taking in the scent of their king.

The immortal elders, however, looked concerned.

That was when he realized Macaque’s scent on the mountain was far too faint. Even the magical signature of his clones no longer felt fresh.

Macaque was nowhere to be found. The monkeys reported Macaque had returned a few years after he stopped by the mountain earlier in the Journey but not as his usual self. He didn’t respond to any of their questions. He didn’t even take time to check in on the infants. He didn’t say a word.

He just entered the mansion, but no one saw him leave.

Entering the mansion, Wukong dashed to their room desperate for answers. Opening the doors, he saw the room was horribly empty, sure all of his belonging were exactly as he remembered them, but all of Macaque’s stuff was gone. Macaque’s closet was empty and all his books had vanished. Despite his desperate hopes, there wasn’t any signs of a struggle or hidden messages to be found.

Macaque left of his own free will, but why?

He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the bed they shared so many nights together. Every time he dared, he awoke expect to be greeted with the comforting warmth of familiar presence, instead he opened his eyes to a cold emptiness.

The lack of answers broke his heart, but he didn’t have time to start tearing the landscape apart trying to find him. Now that he was back for good, he had so many responsibilities to catch up on. He was determined to be a good king for his subjects and that meant ughthinking things through. Plus, he wanted to spend as much time with his master and brothers as possible.

Then there was the concerning fact all his previous allies had severed their alliance with him.

Apparently after all the fuss with the Demon Bull King, word had spread that Wukong broke their alliance by disrespecting protocol and attacking the royal family. Plus, his new position as a defender of humanity annoyed more than a few respectable demons. Combined with the sheer number of powerful demons he killed on the Journey cemented the idea that having an alliance with him would only end poorly.

He was banned from court meetings and the other kings in the surrounding areas wanted nothing to do with him. The chaotic nature of his past had finally caught up to him and in the worst possible way.

He was still recognized as the Monkey King of the Sun Court but was effectively blacklisted. No one wanted to mess with him, but they also didn’t want to interact with him. Not good for his mental health to say the least.

Simians are naturally social creatures. Wukong was used to constantly being around other people and learning new things. His time imprisoned was not kind. His first year of freedom had him constantly climbing over his brothers and master just to reassure himself that this was real.

And now that he couldn’t reconnect with old faces unless it was through a battle to the death…It forced him to delve into old memories. Memories that while sweet only made the emptiness more pronounced.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Sun Wukong smiled as he watched Macaque’s reaction.

The six-eared monkie was furiously pinching the bridge between his eyebrows after he shattered a boulder with a careless headbutt as though it would make his life mercifully easier. “You’ll have to explain it to me again. What did you mean by ‘no longer under Yama’s jurisdiction’?”

“Exactly what I said. I was napping. Having some time to myself, when out of nowhere some idiots tried to take my soul to the afterlife.” Wukong explained as though having entities of death rip out your soul to drag it to the underworld was no big deal.

“Bet you weren’t happy.” Macaque couldn’t help but smirk at the flippant tone. He just made it so difficult to stay mad.

“Not in the slightest. I barged my way to the top brass, bunch of cowards called the Ten Kings (totally undeserved titles by the way) and demanded what the fuck was going on.” He was still ticked off even if the payoff was sweet. Seriously! Did immortality mean nothing to these cowards? They couldn’t even play it off as him dying in battle. He was in the peak of his youth! “Can you believe they tried to play it off as a misunderstanding? Should have smacked the loudmouth when I was there.”

“So, through a series of ridiculous events, you erased your name from the records of the dead.” Macaque could easily piece together the rest from there. No matter how ridiculous the odds. He learned never to bet against his friend when a problem could be handled with brute strength or intimidation. If it didn’t look like such an answer was possible, clearly, they hadn’t experienced the force of a determined Wukong. Something about facing a ticked off monkie of practically infinite strength and invulnerability left harden conquerors pissing themselves.

It was hilarious.

“Not just mine. In my infinite wisdom, I erased the names of several of the monkey inhabitants of esteemed Flower Fruit Mountain, including yours.” Wukong playfully booped Macaque’s nose.

Turning away to hide a light blush, Macaque scoffed to cover his embarrassing response. “Typical. I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without you doing something insane.”

“I know. I’m just that awesome.”

“So what? Are we now double immortal?” That was the question wasn’t it. Due to their master’s instructions, they were immortal and ageless, so what exactly would this give them? He didn’t feel any different. He couldn’t sense any new powers or changes in his instincts.

His counterpart, however, had other things on his mind. “Who cares. All I know is that those idiots have no control over our souls anymore.” And with that the King took his rightful place across Macaque’s lap as the other returned to his scrolls.

Wukong instead took the time to examine his friend, who finally gained enough confidence to fully drop his glamour and embrace his true appearance.

He still couldn’t believe Macaque actually had six ears. The weird part was how natural they looked, almost as if seeing him with only two was bizarre. The coolest part was how each pair softly glowed a different color. Blue. Purple. Red. Sometimes Wukong would just stare at them, imagining that he could see glittering stars emanating from that glow.

Suddenly those magnificent ears twitched. Macaque didn’t bother looking up from the bamboo scroll. “A trespasser...multiple, boar and vulture demon. Another hunting party”.

“Again. Ugh. Don’t these idiots ever give up!” Don’t get him wrong, Wukong loved a good fight. What better way to prove how superior you are to others than to steal what’s most precious to them? But even he was starting to grow bored with the sheer number of hunters that thought kidnapping his subjects was a quick cash grab.

After the fifth army he returned in pieces to the surrounding upstart lords, you’d think they’d take a hint.

Thankfully he wasn’t the only powerhouse on the mountain. “I haven’t tasted blood in a while. Why don’t I defend the kingdom while your highness enjoys a show?” Macaque set aside his reading material, eyes glittering with bloodlust.

Wukong returned the smirk with one of his own. “I’m always up for a good thrashing. One request: make it glorious.”

“Don’t I always.” Macaque joked as he retrieved his spear from his own shadow.

Wukong summoned his cloud and claimed a good vantage point. Once again, he marveled at his friend’s hearing. Judging by the distance it would have been at least three hours before he would have detected their presence.

Kicking back, he transformed some hair into a fruit platter and waited for the screams.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

To this day, Wukong knew Macaque was alive. Thanks to his efforts combined with the intense training, the monkie was double immortal. Besides, that monkkie was way too stubborn to die. He would survive purely on spite if he had to.

Macaque left, but why?

While he may have effectively isolated himself, that didn’t mean he didn’t hear about the other courts. A few centuries ago, he heard rumors about the formation of a new court by someone under the title of the Macaque King. Supposedly they were a powerful monkie who knew way more than he had the right to. For a brief moment, Wukong dared to hope it was his old friend, but it didn’t last. The few recounts he caught described him with black fur. Besides, he knew how much Macaque hated the title of King. Even when Wukong offered him the position as co-ruler of his kingdom, the pale monkie adamantly refused.

Still, he was curious.

For a few weeks he could have sworn he detected a familiar scent hiding underneath Mk’s. And he wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few of the immortal monkeys questioned him on the mango infused scent and what his plans were. It was almost too much to take in.

To think he returned to teach his student instead of showing his face. It hurt just to think about it. He chose to ignore the beckoning scent until it became impossible to ignore MK’s leap in progress. Then it just vanished like it hadn’t been testing his patience. Like it hadn’t brought him to the brink of shaking the kid upside down until he confessed where his old friend was hiding. The kid probably grew wise, or someone told him to change his bathing habits, and by the next training session it was all but gone.

Dragging his hand down his face, Wukong tried to reevaluate his thoughts.

Getting mad at the kid wasn’t going to solve anything. He knew he hadn’t been the most attentive master. Hell, the whole hammer exercise at its core was a desperate attempt to remove a painful reminder of better times. His master would be disappointed in how he was running away from his problems, but would encourage him to take the steps to be better. Zhu Bajie would be a sarcastic little shit, trying to get him riled up so the monkie would prove him wrong. Sha Wujing would sit him down and wouldn’t let him leave until they talked everything through.

He had to make things right with the kid. He deserved a better master. And this New Years he was gonna get one.

He spoke, praying the winds would carry his voice to his Warrior.

“Macaque. I know it’s been a while, but…I-I want to talk. I know you’re out there, somewhere I can’t reach. I miss sparring with you. I miss lazy days napping in the shade by your side. I miss defending the mountain as we held contests to see who could take out the most trespassers before their common sense kicked in. I miss you. Please come home.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The moon was high in the sky. Stars danced in the heavens as the faintest hints of vibrations pulsed through the concrete from the late-night dance clubs. MK lay awake, his mind struggling to make sense of it all.

Ever since Macaque disappeared in order to remain undetected, he kept thinking about his relationship with the Monkey King. Sure, he was being trained and he was definitely making progress. The monkie was still on his case for supposedly cheating on him with another mentor. Nothing MK said or did could make the monkie think otherwise. Thankfully, he was no longer shooting him suspicious glares, but the underlying tension remained.

The sad truth is they just weren’t that close.

He would have expected to learn more about the Monkey King on a personal and emotional level, but he just couldn’t get past that wall. Their training sessions felt more like just the Monkey King arranged just to get it over with. There was no passion at all.

Okay, perhaps that last bit was an exaggeration.

When you peered past the arrogance and pride, you found one socially awkward monkie. It was similar to Red Son the more he thought about it, both seemed to find it difficult to talk to or relate to others in a friendly setting. Sure, Monkey King projected a friendly demeanor and called him “bud”, but if he didn’t know any better he could have sworn the monkie was afraid to take that final step.

The last few sessions had taken a bit of a turn in a positive direction as Sandy would say. Maybe Monkey King decided it was time to make a change? Maybe this was all a trick so MK would lower his guard and reveal Macaque’s identity? Maybe he was just tired and should have conked out an hour ago?

Maybe.

Reality was so different from the legends. When Tang first introduced him to the Monkey stories, he was hooked. He loved listening to the tales of the infamous trickster that flipped off every major religious figure with unbridled confidence. Meeting the Great Sage in the flesh was like a dream come true until he was exposed to the King’s less pleasant tendencies.

Mk couldn’t help but wonder just how much confidence the Monkey King had in his training skills. Did he ever train someone before? Could MK talk to someone about this without appearing even more ungrateful than he already looked? Why didn’t he stop Red Son from unsealing his father when he was there? Why didn’t he simply seal the entire family when they were reunited? Why did the five times immortal sage decide that now he needed to train a disciple? Was Monkey King not telling him something important?

He had so many questions and not even the foggiest idea of where to start looking. Or perhaps he did?

The truth was he missed Macaque. The dark-furred monkie may have only taught him for a month, but the progress he made and the level of care he was exposed to made him feel as though he had finally unlocked the ability to fly.

He missed the regular grooming. He missed learning about the demon community. He missed learning new ways to mess with Red Son through appropriate court manners.

Watching the fire user freeze up at the term “honorable prince of the Iron Bull Court” just made him laugh, when his hair combusted it really matched his face. Now that he thought about it, were those horns starting to peek out of his forehead? And maybe the slightest hint of a tufted tail swiping the bottom of his coat? Seeing the demon frantically compose himself was a treat he didn’t know he needed. He still had the video saved as one of his favorites, didn’t hurt that Mei caught it at the perfect angle.

Oh yeah, he missed that.

With any luck, New Years would be the start of something better.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On an island that remained surrounded by unquenchable storms, a single black-furred monkie sat cross-legged in a secluded part attached to the palace. All around him fruit trees and bushes bore a hefty bounty releasing an intoxicating scent of life.

Ears twitched.

Macaque opened his eyes, aroused from his meditation. It was odd. He had the faintest sensation that someone had been talking about him. Now that wasn’t exactly unusual, he made plenty of allies and enemies across the centuries. What was odd was that the voice sounded like someone he once cherished.

But that couldn’t be right.

The deceptive silence of his personal orchard gave him no answers. Not that he really expected it to.

For some reason he refused to identify, Macaque turned to the single peach tree in the grove. A tribute from his past and a reminder of his mistakes. But it was also a valuable resource once he learned the truth about the peach’s properties. He used its powers to protect many happy relationships, if only it could have helped him so long ago.

No matter.

He still had many projects to work on, including one successor just rife with insecurities. He honestly felt bad ducking out as he did. If things were different, he would have offered him a new life. His Stars were always happy to welcome a new member into their budding community.

As a bonus, his presence would have interrupted their constant attempts to set him up with new dates. He adored their efforts but being paired with partners who only wanted power or he would view only as friends was not something he enjoyed. Although watching them mentally destroy those they didn’t find suitable for him was quite entertaining.

Either way, New Years was coming up fast and he still needed to approve a few changes. His Stars were determined to make sure this event topped last years in every way possible, but they had to make sure they didn’t set the orchard on fire again. Or worse, they could launch the fireworks into the storm barrier. He wasn’t sure why or how, but the tornadoes and clouds turned different colors as explosions rang throughout the night.

It was beautiful but lost its charm after the third day.

[shinsouskitten]

Okay so hc’s of Hawks, Dabi, Bakugo, and Shinsou with an outta pocket s/o plz! She just oozes crackhead energy and says the most funniest most wildest shit. (Hawks:*teasing her* S/O: Ah, so you think cuz your balls drag across the floor, you got jokes huh? ☺️) Sis could come up with the most immaculate of roasts (S/O: Mineta, you waste of sperm! I will rip your spine outta your ass and make it into fine China before sending it to your parents 😡) and do the dumbest things just cuz she wants to (Monoma’s on his bullshit and S/O just suplexes him without saying a single word). Imagine their faces when she breaks the fourth wall a couple of times, says some freaky shit with a straight face, or she’ll just go “Nope” and jump out of a window with no hesitation (she don’t care how high the drop is, she heading out). Need them to be with someone who just has “I woke up and chose violence” energy.

I POSTED IT TO THE WRONG ASK 😭😭😭 i still have the other request saved on the actual document so at least i didnt completely fuck it up

still, im gonna go cry in a corner so brb

---

i had a stroke reading this 😅

but like i read this out to my buddy @grapefantaenby and we both were like BRO I LOVE THAT, even if my writing of it is subpar at best lol

also that m*neta insult is actual perfection. might send it to my ex

Warnings: chaos, some swear words, m*neta exists 🤮

---

Hawks/Keigo Takami: 

🍗 Keigo loves it

🍗 He especially loved when the two are you are partnered up, simply because of how terrified the villains are when they see you. You’re not even that scary, they just have no idea what you’re going to do

🍗 You could either decide your weapon of choice that day is a chair, or take a bag of popcorn from a nearby store and just sit there eating it while Hawks does his job (heroes don’t steal so Keigo always makes sure to go back to the store and pay for you if you forget)

🍗 He’s used to you jumping out of random windows. He was absolutely terrified the first time, and jumped straight after you to catch you, but now he just sends a bunch of his feathers to make sure you make it to the ground safely 

🍗 You don’t bend over and accept everything the commission asks you to do, and it’s quite common for them to demand that Hawks keep an eye on you to ensure you don’t get into too much trouble. It’s also quite common for you to just walk out mid meeting with a middle finger to the rest of the conference room and a scream that you want food

🍗 The fourth wall breaks. Oh God the fourth wall breaks. Hawks literally just stand there like ‘what the fuck’ when you turn to an empty piece of sidewalk and mutter something about villains being too hot for their own good (legit thinks for a moment you mean temperature-wise, but is still confused anyway)

---

Dabi/Touya Todoroki:

💙🔥 Oh boy. If there’s one thing that gets on Dabi’s nerves it’s chaotic individuals. He deals with Toga and Twice on a daily basis, so you’d think he’d know how to tone out the craziness. Alas, he does not

💙🔥 Sometimes he wants to throw you against the wall and just tell you to shut up for a goddamn second, and other times he wants to praise you for showing some low level villain that the league was not to be messed with. Maybe you did it with an insult about his mother, but it still worked, and the villain left you with an apology quickly enough

💙🔥 Not that Dabi would ever actually tell anyone that he thought they did a good job, so he usually just ignores you, attempting to stay out of your way (he also doesn’t really want you to insult his mother)

💙🔥 Eventually he becomes more accustomed to your… uniqueness, and occasionally you actually manage to get a half smile from him with one of your numerous insults aimed towards Shigaraki. They can get pretty creative

💙🔥 If Dabi is ever at odds with the rest of the league for some reason (there’s not really a reason, he’s just being Dabi), they - usually mom Kurogiri - sends you in an attempt to cheer him up. If you don’t manage to cheer him up, you still manage to annoy him enough to force him back to the rest of them. Either way it works out

---

Katsuki Bakugou:

💥 ‘Wow you’re annoying’ is the first thing Bakugou thinks when he meets you (he should meet himself) so he plans to just ignore you. After all, he’s not there to make friends. He’s there to be the best hero

💥 Annoyingly, even with your naturally chaotic energy, you still manage to stay right on his toes. That’s what finally gets him to notice you (notice me senpai), and to his frustration, you’re barely even trying to beat him, and yet you manage to remain hot on his heels

💥 He’s surprised you’re not suspended from all the shit you pull, but you always manage to get yourself out of trouble one way or another. Even if that way is jumping out of a second story window and claiming they can’t kick you out when you’re injured (how that actually works he has no idea)

💥 He’s wanted to throw a chair at that stupid copycat Monoma since he first met him, so when you actually throw a chair at the guy, Bakugou laughs. Like really laughs. Kirishima thought he might’ve been possessed for a moment, but Monoma’s expression when he finally got back up was priceless

💥 It takes a while but he slowly manages to respect your skill as a hero - as much as King Explosion Murder can respect anyone. And even though your personality is… unusual, you’re not Deku, so he can deal with you

💥 Besides, anyone who can and will suplex Monoma without any warning is a worthy friend for him

---

Hitoshi Shinsou:

💜 The first time he met you, you were screaming like a banshee running through the halls of school, chasing after a small purple speck some way off in the distance. He didn’t get involved

💜 He saw you next being held apart from Bakugou with help from Aizawa’s scarf. You were screaming again, but this time at least you sounded human. He heard something about an ‘angry pomeranian’ before he decided to leave you to it

💜 You’re part of 1A, so Shinsou doesn’t pay you much mind other than the infuriating need to prove himself to everyone that ever doubted him. He’s surprised when you don’t act like the others in your class, and first gets to talk to you after you barrel into him in the hallways mid lesson (you were both skipping so he didn’t call you out on it)

💜 He asked if you were okay, and your exasperated response of ‘Bakugou’ explained enough for him. You sat together for a while. Okay, you refused to get up from the floor. He got tired of standing and decided to join you

💜 You get your first smile from him after you’re almost caught by a teacher looking for you, when you grab his hand and make a mad dash to a darkened classroom currently unused by anyone else

💜 Your first laugh comes when you flip off Denki after he tried one of his many pickup lines on you. The blond’s reaction was great, and Shinsou couldn't help but chuckle at how you managed to twist Denki’s pickup line into some distorted insult to his… nether regions

💜 Your chaos is a nice contrast to how nonchalant Shinsou usually is. You bring some much needed joy to the purple haired insomniac, and he helps to calm you down when your usual energy might be unneeded in certain situations. You know what they say; opposites attract

[new-sandrafilter]

How Timothée Chalamet Channeled The Blockbuster Pressure of Leading Denis Villeneuve’s ‘Dune’ Back Into His Role – Venice Q&A

DEADLINE: In a few days Dune will premiere at the Venice Film Festival. You first met Denis Villeneuve about the role in May 2018 and started shooting in the early half of 2019. It was always going to be a long journey, but the pandemic stretched it even further. How does it feel to have finally arrived at this moment?

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET: You know, I like to think that with every film I’ve done, whether it’s Call Me by Your Name or Beautiful Boy, The King, or Little Women, the character you play is almost a piece of your flesh. And that’s always true, but simply from the perspective of how long the shoot for Dune was, and also the arc that Paul Atreides is on, as well as the huge love and almost biblical connection that so many people have for the book and the original film, it really felt… tectonic, if that’s the right word for it. Just getting to this finish line feels like: phew.

And independent of what the film is now, and what it has become, the experience of making it was I was put in such a safe environment, which you can never take for granted as a human, as an actor, but especially when you’re just starting your career, and when this is the first film of this size you’ve ever done.

To get to work with Denis on it, to get to work with someone of his caliber, let alone on a book that he considers the book of his youth and one of the things he has connected to the most… When he would have it in his hands on set, his body language would become that of a fan; of a kid who had fallen in love with the book at home in Montreal. And when all the kids around him were wearing hockey jerseys with their favorite players’ names on the back, this was a kid wearing a jersey that said ‘Spielberg’ on the back.

For it all to come together, especially with the added challenge of the pandemic, it has all combined to make this moment feel especially spicy [laughs].

DEADLINE: The entire ensemble will show up in Venice.

CHALAMET: Right. And I just can’t believe it; Jason Momoa has the number one film on Netflix right now with Sweet Girl, which I just watched. And since we shot, Zendaya has had all this success with Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. Just to be part of this cast, period, let alone as one of the title characters, it’s really the shit you dream of.

And let me not forget, too—and I know I’ve told you this before—that The Dark Knight was the movie that made me want to act. That movie had a score by Hans Zimmer, and he has done the score for Dune. And it’s almost not what you’d think. It’s totally appropriate and excellent for the movie, but he has somehow managed to do something subversive, in my opinion. It’s a pinch-me moment all over.

DEADLINE: So, take me back to the start. Is it true you had a Google alert set up to track the latest news on this project before you were ever cast?

CHALAMET: Yeah, it’s true [laughs]. Not right away—Legendary had the rights and was developing it—but as soon as Denis got involved, I set up a Google alert and that’s when I got the book.

In total honesty, I think my understanding of Dune at that point was from a graphic novel I’d seen at Midtown Comics when I was shopping for Yu-Gi-Oh! cards when I was about 10. The year you and I first met, when I was there at Deadline Contenders with Call Me by Your Name, that would have been 2017 or early 2018, and Denis was there with Blade Runner. I remember I was trying to put myself in front of him as much as possible and set up a meeting with him. We had a night at the BAFTA where one of my good friends, Stéphane Bak—who’s also an actor—saw Denis across the room and was like, “Hey buddy, he’s right over there.” So, we went over to talk to him. I kept trying to put myself in front of him, but I didn’t really get a sense of the possibility [of working with him].

I was about halfway through the book when I got the call that he was going to be the president of the jury at the Cannes Film Festival, and I was in London prepping The King. He asked me if I could come out there, so I quickly busted through the second half of the book as best I could. So, like, the first half of my copy is properly annotated and full of my thoughts, and then the second half I just raced through. And then I had that meeting with him, and it was such a joy.

I’m struggling with this even now, as I’m working with Paul King [on Wonka], because he’s another guy I have huge respect and admiration for, and it’s hard to feel on a level. Not that you ever are, because as an actor you’re a cog in the machine, and you’ve got to be humble to the vision of the director. But with Denis, he was pacing around the room, throwing ideas around, in some fancy suite in Cannes, and all I could think was that a year before I was just sat on a stoop on 9th Street in the East Village or something.

DEADLINE: Was that your first time in Cannes?

CHALAMET: Yeah. Well, bizarrely, my sister would do dance camps growing up. Ballet intensive programs in a town called Mougins, which is nearby Cannes, so I spent a lot of time there growing up, but never during the festival, and not on the Riviera. To get to be there for the festival was just nuts. I went to see the Romain Gavras movie, I think, and it was just a huge joy.

I got attached [to the role in Dune] a couple of months after that, and it was nerve-wracking from the announcement, because like I said before, the fans of the book, and the fans of David Lynch version, the computer game, and everything, there’s so much love and strength of feeling. And so much of our pop culture and films and books have been derived from Dune, and all the philosophy the book. I’ve been shocked to learn how many people have a next-level connection to the book. I compare it to how our generation grew up with Harry Potter, and that one makes sense to me. But it’s cool to see with Dune also, when you actually sit down and read it… It’s not that it’s a quote-unquote “hard read” or anything, but it’s not made to be consumed easily, I think that’s fair to say.

So, I was grateful to be working on something of this size not only with Denis Villeneuve leading it, who between Polytechnique, Incendies and Prisoners had nailed the smaller indie film across languages, and then had nailed Arrival and Blade Runner, but who, in his own words, he didn’t feel he’d made his greatest film yet. But also, to be working with this cast. I don’t know if there’s some nightmare version of a film where a young lead is not supported by the rest of his cast, where every one of them had been the leads in their own huge projects. But on this, everyone was there to support, and I think it’s because we all wanted to be foot soldiers for Denis, and I think we understood the potential, based on the script by Eric Roth, Jon Spaihts and Denis, that this could be something really special.

DEADLINE: I don’t have a connection to Dune; this movie is really my first experience of the story. What strikes me is this is clearly an enormous universe—a broad canvas being painted with various families and factions and politics and mythos—but that ultimately it comes down to very elemental, human themes, and we feel them through this character you play, Paul Atreides. Did those themes help ground the experience for you?

CHALAMET: Yes, and I would give the credit entirely to Denis. He would constantly say on set that he had some opposing drumbeat or something. In my diminished intellectual standing, I didn’t understand it, but it was like some vision for the movie based on how biblical the book is that tries to tackle so much that it doesn’t tackle anything. I think he felt the need to be close to a character in it, and Paul is that guy in the book. He’s a character that is still in formation, like a lump of clay, which makes him a great figure for the audience to mirror off.

It speaks, I think, to Denis’ premonition and his directing ability that there were times when we’d move on from a shot or move on from a scene, and I swear, literally, we’d go back because Denis wanted to get something over my shoulder, or push in on my reaction, just to make sure [it stayed on Paul].

And again, it’s something where I’m pinching myself. I had the best time on Interstellar, and that was one of my favorite films I’ve ever worked on, but it was very much something where I was aware of when I had the opportunity to do real acting. And on a movie like Dune, again, one could think it would get lost in the scale and scope. But I felt every day like my plate was full.

DEADLINE: One of those themes is fear, and Paul must overcome his to become the person he needs to be. When you are number one on the call sheet on a project of this scale, and the cast list reads like an address book of Hollywood in the 21st century, and Legendary has injected hundreds of millions of dollars into this production, and it’s all falling on your shoulders, I have to imagine fear is a theme you can readily relate to.

CHALAMET: Oh yeah, and they can bleed into each other for sure—not to diminish the other work that goes in. It’s great when your life experience can inform the role. That’s not at all to say I’m on some crusade in the universe or anything, but definitely… And I had that same good fortune with The King I think. My life is not nearly as significant or as exciting as Paul or Prince Hal, but we all share an unwitting needle in the haystack feeling. On The King that feeling was because I was so new to having a career. On Dune it’s because of, as you say, just feeling the pressure of the hugeness of the project in all those different ways. Those things can absolutely inform each other.

And then there are the moments of glee that come, too, like seeing Jason Momoa running at you at a hundred miles an hour, or just getting to shoot the shit with Josh Brolin, or getting to do a scene with Oscar Isaac. I felt so supported, whether it was Rebecca Fergusson or Charlotte Rampling. When Zendaya came, it was a total breath of fresh air, and she’s one of my favorite parts of the movie. I just got really lucky, and I can’t wait to see them all in Venice.

Denis split the book in half, and the hope is a second movie will get a greenlight. That’d expand Zendaya’s role in the story.

CHALAMET: Definitely, Chani will play a huge role in the next film. I don’t know if there’s a script yet, but just based on the book, along with Lady Jessica [Rebecca Fergusson], they have a lot to do together, let’s put it like that. And Zendaya was incredible in this movie; the moment she pulls the mask down, it felt properly showstopping and powerful. I was hiding behind the camera, counting my lucky starts, because I was there in month two of the shoot and here was a total powerhouse just coming in for the first time.

And as I said before, this was before I’d seen Euphoria and Malcolm & Marie. She’s doing such incredible work and is just trailblazing her own path, and she’s so, so cool. She also happens to be in the most-watched trailer of the moment, too, for Spider-Man: No Way Home. I cannot wait for that movie, and I was there, by the way, with everybody else, clicking through the trailer frame by frame looking for clues [laughs].

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Unexpected Places (Pt. 01 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

Next part (02)->

{Vikings Masterlist}

×

Sailing Into The Unknown

Walking fast, you keep up with the two Norsemen coming right behind you. Unlike the rest of your maids, who were caught hiding or trying to leave the castle, you were found in your chambers. You knew they'd find you, one way or another, and you'll have much more to gain if you keep fear and despair away from your mind.

You knew this day would come. Your father, the King, was sure of it, and so were you. The political implications of King Ecbert and King Aelle in the last years brought you to this moment. An attack was imminent, and when you were told the Vikings were once again clashing on your cost like the waves, you knew this was inevitable. The only thing you can hope now is that they'll either let you live or give you a quick death. You're a threat, that's obvious. Aethelwulf may be the heir, but you're forth in line after his two sons. And that puts you in a dangerous position.

A yelp from one of your maids gets your attention, and you give her a look. You get why they're scared. These men look like monsters to them, speaking a strange language, dressed in dark, hard material, covered in blood. And everything they were told about the Norsemen, is that they're all savages. Worse than animals, soulless. Fortunately for you, one of the few things you actually wanted to do that your father allowed was to learn the Vikings language. Ecbert taught you himself, and you feel relieved to know what they're saying.

When you reach the main hall, you're pushed to the center, near a table. The maids all stick together, trying to pull you with them as they fall to the ground, using their skirts to dry off the tears. But you stand up, looking around. The place is flooded by them, the so-called monsters. Some are chatting, laughing even. Some of them have their eyes on you and on the other ladies. There's no way to know what will happen next, but you know who's in charge here.

The legend, the man they believe to be a descendant from the Pagan god, Odin. Ragnar Lothbrok. If you want to stand a chance to get out of here alive, that's the man you need to talk to. And, as if being called, he comes from the hall, alongside two other men. He looks, at the same time, exactly how your father described, but also very different. A paradox. His eyes scan the room, and, as you make your way over him, they lay on you.

One of the men who were with him come forward, standing on your way. Looking up, you sustain his stare. “I wish to speak with Ragnar.” You say, trying not to smile at the confused expression on the man's face. Nobody here expects you to speak their language.

“Princess (Y/N).” Ragnar sings songs, and the man steps aside. He has an axe in his hand, playing with it as he comes closer to you. “I was just having a small chat with your dear father.”

“Did you kill him?” The answer is obvious, but still, you need to know. The funny expression on his face changes and he pinches his eyebrows together “My father always said that, if he had to die at all, he'd like to be killed by you.”

“Oh.” He exclaims, glancing at someone behind you. “His wish was granted.”

Nodding to yourself, you look down. You have been preparing yourself for this moment ever since the news of Ragnar's return arrived, but still, your heart sinks a little. “Alright then.” It sounds stupid to ask him to simply let you go. This won't happen. Still, you don't want to face death scared, like your maids, crying and yelling. So, standing before Ragnar, you push your hair away from your shoulders, exposing your neck. “Do it already.” With both hands on your hips, you take a deep breath.

But Ragnar doesn't move, his lips break into a smile. Slowly, he leans closer, his mouth on your ear. “What are you doing?”

“I know you'll kill me. But I don't want to go like them.” Tilting your head at your maids, you shrug your shoulders. “I don't want to be taken as a slave either. So I guess that's it, king Ragnar.” Unlike him, you keep your voice as loud as before. You don't mind being heard.

“Do you–”

Ragnar is cut off by someone's shouts. Soon enough, a man comes, being held by two of the Norsemen. When they move a little, you recognize Edward, the man you were supposed to marry in a short amount of time. He's hurt, a black eye and a wounded lip. The men throw him on the floor, and he stands on his knees. Perhaps you should pity him... But no. It may not be kind of you, but you can't pretend you feel something you don't.

“Princess (Y/N), my lady.” He mumbles, trying to get to his feet and failing. “Stay away from them.”

Ignoring him, you turn to face Ragnar again. “As I was saying, there's no other option in this situation, so you might as well get done with it.” Giving the axe a look, you raise your eyes again. “I'm ready.”

“Don't be stupid, (Y/N)! Get away from him!” Edward shouts, and you run a hand through your hair, frustrated. Even now, he still tries to tell you what to do. You're tired of being ordered around. At least in death, you want to make it on your way.

“Shut up, Edward!” You burst out, moving to stand a few feet away from him, talking in his language since, of course, he wouldn't even dream of learning the pagans tongue. “It's over, don't you see it? We're both dying today, and honestly...” Now, you can say it. You can finally say it, and you can't help but smile. You'll be dead in a minute, but you never felt so... Free. “I'm happy my fate is to die by the Vikings... That's far better than marrying you.”

When you're done talking, Edward jerks forward, too fast, managing to grab your arm with one hand and hitting your face with the back of the other. You taste blood on your mouth, falling to the ground, but easily pushing yourself back up as the Norsemen pull him back, away from you. “You little whore!” He tries to set free, but it's useless. A laugh escapes your lips. “I'm so glad you'll die today. I'm so glad you'll join your devil of a father.”

With a hand on your jaw, you stare at him, shaking your head lightly. “You call then savages, but you were the only one in this room to hit me.” Turning away from him, you return to where Ragnar stands, watching the whole commotion. “So, king Ragnar?”

You can tell he's thinking. About what, you have no idea. From what you've heard, they don't need much thought before killing someone. “I could kill you right here, princess, but this speech you just gave got me interested.” Pacing around you, he swings his axe, resting it on his shoulder. “My wife, a former princess herself, might actually like you.”

“Aslaug?” A man says, and Ragnar looks at him. Following his gaze, you see a man with blond, dirty hair, pulled back in some kind of braid. “She hates Christians. I don't see how she'll like this one.”

“Well, I've never seen a Christian act like this. Have you, Bjorn?”

“No.” The man admits, eyes finally meeting yours, just before you look away from him.

“Well, my wife has been pissing me off lately, so anything that might distract her for a bit sounds like a good idea to me.” He speaks slow, and some people laugh. “So, Princess (Y/N). I will let you chose your fate.” He's back at your face, looking down at you. “Would you rather come with me to Kattegat, or would you rather die here, with your crying maids?”

Giving the women a look, you weigh the odds. Death is final, the very end. Life is full of possibilities... But are you willing to risk it? “Would you keep me safe? I mean...” Gesturing at the other men, you sigh. “I'm sure you understand what I mean.”

“Nobody touches the princess,” Ragnar yells, his voice echoing through the walls. “Is that enough?” He asks you in a much lower voice.

“I guess it is.”

That said, he walks away. Following him with your eyes, you see as he stops by Bjorn. Bjorn Ironside, his oldest son. His name is also well known here. Ragnar tells him something before disappearing, and his son gives you a look. It doesn't take long for you to understand Ragnar told Bjorn to keep an eye on you, since, as you walk down the beach to the boats, Bjorn silently walks beside you, like a bodyguard. He helps you climb up on to the boat, a strong hand on your waist, pushing you up.

When you finally start sailing, you get an idea of their army. Too many boats, filled with far too many warriors. You can't help but make your way to the back of the boat, watching as your home grows distant. But calling it home is a compliment. This was just somewhere you lived, surrounded by people who always expected something of you. Where you were forced to act a certain way, just because you were unlucky enough to be born a princess.

What's coming now, is completely unexpected, unforeseen. If anyone ever told you you'd be sailing away from Wessex, in a Viking boat, you wouldn't believe them. But the feeling that really gets to you, leaving you utterly perplexed is that you feel... Good. Free, even. You can't even count how many times you desired you could just disappear, leave everything behind and go somewhere entirely new. Maybe you're crazy, your mind completely lost already, but you somehow find joy in it. In sailing away, into the unknown, with the very people you were taught to hate and fear.

But this is far better than what your future was holding back there. An unhappy marriage with a disgusting man. This is far better.

Days after you left Wessex, a violent storm starts falling at daybreak. The rain comes lightly at first, but by the moment you stand up, it starts pouring. One of Ragnar's friends, named Floki, stays on the edge of the boat, holding on tight with one arm, the other stretched out. He's laughing, saying things you don't quite understand the meaning of. It's about Thor, and Odin, and othter of their gods. He seems unaffected by the crashing waves. Stumbling, you leave the protection of this dark fabric they hanged above the ship, getting on your knees next to Floki. You don't know what's soaking you, the rain, or the waves, high enough to hit the boat.

“Hear this, Princess?” Floki yells, trying to make himself heard above the deafening sounds. “This is–” A huge wave hits both of you, and Floki almost falls back. But he regains his balance, laughing even louder.

“Will the boat sink?” You ask him, yelling at the top of your lungs. “I can't swim! If we sink, I'll drown.”

“So will I,” Floki answers, glancing at you before turning his attention back at the ocean. This makes you burst into laughter too because you never thought someone who can't swim would face the waves like this.

“(Y/N)!” Someone calls, and you turn around, pushing wet hair away from your face. Bjorn comes your way, grabbing both your arms and helping you stand up. “What are you doing here?”

“She's mesmerized by the powerful waves!” Another wave, hitting both you and Bjorn as well. You're knocked down, your back against Bjorn's chest. But despite the sting you fell on your leg, Floki's laughter makes you giggle. These people are crazy. Nobody on Wessex would be this happy, this carefree in such a storm.

“Come.” Bjorn pulls you with him, back to the safety of the handmade roof. He helps you settle down, and as he does, you lock eyes with him. You've never seen blue eyes like this. “Stay out of the rain.”

“Floki is in the rain. Why can't I?” You snap back, not really enjoying the bossy tone.

“Let the girl have her fun, Bjorn.” You recognize Ragnar's voice, and you find him rowing, trying to keep the boat moving despite the violent waves. There's an empty seat beside him, so, pushing yourself up, you make your way there.

“Mind if I help?”

“If you think you can.” He breathes out, and you nod, grabbing the oar. “Keep it steady... Push, then pull.” He tells you, and you mimic his movements. The thing is heavy, and it takes only a few seconds for your arms to start hurting. But you keep up, ignoring the looks you're getting. No woman would be allowed to do such thing in Wessex. So you're enjoying it, even though you're strength is nothing compared to the rest of them.

When the heavy clouds are blown away, and the sky is once again blue and serene, you bend over the edge of the boat a little, just to better see where the ocean meets the sky, on the horizon. The chaos was replaced by a low chattering, laughter, and giggles. You're mostly on our own, not really speaking to anyone but Ragnar. He's a curious man, and he's curious about you. You're not sure why though.

“Here.” A voice makes you turn around, sitting down. Bjorn offers you a cup of water, which you take and drink after muttering a ‘thank you’. When you give him the empty cup, you wait for him to walk away so you can resume your horizon watching, but instead, he settles down beside you, letting out a heavy breath. “We'll reach Kattegat in a few days.”

“Finally.” You burst out, playing with the tips of your hair. “Sick and tired of this boat already.” Chuckling, you glance at him. He's already staring. “So... Bjorn Ironside. What are you doing talking to a Christian? People here don't really seem to be fond of me.”

“The truth is they're trying to figure you out.” Bjorn lowers his voice, and your eyes scan through the men. “Ever since you stood up with your neck exposed to my father's axe.”

It doesn't seem much of a big deal to you. “I just didn't want to die like those other girls. Whining and crying.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sigh. “I mean, I really thought there would be no other way, so I'd face death with some dignity.”

“Don't tell anyone I said this but...” He leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. “You kinda sounded like a Viking right now.” Then, he stands up and leaves, back to his chores.

You're confused, to say the least, but you guess that was a compliment coming from a Viking himself. Taking a deep breath, you move to where you were, staring at the calming waves.

And Bjorn was right. Eight days after, you're arriving at Kattegat. The many boats stop at the decks, and yours is one of the first. There's a sea of people here, waiting for their loved ones. As you step out of the boat, you don't really know where to go. Everyone is hugging, kissing, telling about the successful raid. You just start walking then, following the flow until you feel someone grabbing your arm. “This way,” Bjorn says, tilting his head at where his father is going. “He wants to introduce you to Aslaug.”

The Queen who hates Christians. Great.

The main hall of Ragnar's house is full. First, he talks to the people, telling them everything they took, everything they found. There's a huge fire in the center, flames reaching high. You're at the corner, half-hidden behind Bjorn's shoulder, eyes flying through the place. You quickly recognize the Queen, seated on a chair beside Ragnar. She's very pretty, dark hair cut off to her shoulders. But she looks... Bored. Very uninterested in this.

By her side, close to the floor, you find a pair of eyes set on you. It takes you by surprise since you weren't expecting anyone to find you among all the people. But he did. Ragnar told you a little about him. His youngest son, Ivar, the Boneless. The cripple. It's not hard to recognize him, but your eyes don't search for his deformity. They're locked on his face, trying to read it, trying to understand why he won't look away.

Suddenly, everybody standing in front of you moves, creating a passage that leads to the very center of the hall. Glancing at Bjorn, you see when he gestures for you to go. And so you do, stopping only when you're standing before Aslaug. She doesn't seem very happy about it.

“And who this might be?” She asks, taking a sip from her cup.

“This is King Ecbert's daughter, princess (Y/N).” Ragnar answers. “She has some spirit, so I thought she'd make a good friend for you since you too were a princess once.”

“A Viking princess.” She snaps, looking you up and down.

You should probably say something, but what? The woman doesn't like you, and why would she? The big question now is what will happen to you next.

“(Y/N) isn't like the other women,” Bjorn speaks up, and you give him a look. He's pacing around, playing with a knife. “While her maids were sobbing and begging for their lives, she stood before Ragnar, accepting her fate. I've never seen one of their women do anything like that.” You don't get why he's doing this. Probably Ragnar's orders, or something like that. “She even helped with the oars when a storm reached us, after staying on the edge with that crazy ass Floki over there.” He gestures at the man, who loudly giggles.

“And what does this all mean?” Aslaug breathes out, clearly annoyed.

“Why don't you give her a chance, wife?” Ragnar sits back on his chair, taking Aslaug's hand. “Talk to her, see if there's anything in common and if you don't like her, well... I can send her to live with Lagertha.”

“Who's Lagertha?” You mutter, to nobody in particular.

But the name makes Aslaug sigh, and she stands up, putting the cup down. “Fine then. Come with me.”

With no other choice, you follow her inside. But on your way, you walk by Ivar, who's holding a clutch. You try hard no to, but your eyes find him nevertheless. He quickly looks away, and you keep walking, deciding not to give it much thought. He probably despises you like most of the people here.

Aslaug has some slaves prepare you a warm bath. And, much to your dislike, she stays in the room as you take off your clothes and step inside the tub. But it doesn't take long for you to relax as one of the girls starts washing and brushing your hair.

“Did you sleep with my husband?” The question comes with an angry voice, and you're not sure what startles you more. The anger or the question itself.

“Of course not.” She gets on your sight, pacing around.

“Do you want to sleep with my husband?”

Then, it clicks. She thinks Ragnar brought you here because he desires you. And that's a very dangerous thought for a Queen to have. “No, I don't.” Resting both your arms on the edges of the tub, you look up at her. “And even if he wants to sleep with me, I won't accept it. That's not the reason why I'm here.”

“And why are you here, so far from home, little princess?” She doesn't sound like she actually wants to know, but you get the feeling that this time you can actually say the truth. Here, there's no reason to keep it hidden, locked in. You can say how you feel about everything, even the things that could've got you imprisoned or even dead in Wessex.

“I'm willing to tell you if you're willing to listen, Queen Aslaug.”

At first, there's silence. But then, Aslaug drags a chair, placing it near the tub before sitting down. “Well, since I have nothing better to do at the moment, let's hear it.”

×

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @midnightmystic

[sleepylixie]

1.5k words, Lovers to Strangers, non-idol AU. Angst, but of fluff

Dancer! Yeosang X Fem! Reader​

A/N: WELCOME TO MY very first official Ateez fanfiction!! This is the first of many fics I have planned for Ateez, can’t wait to show em to y’all! Anyways- onto the fic!

The spotlight wasn’t for everybody; it was a fear for some, an intrigue for others. But for him, your swan… the spotlight was his home. It makes so much sense that he left you behind for it.

//WHAT WAS.\\

“Any reason you were missing from class today?” Kang Yeosang was always alluring, but the years of adolescence had worked its magic on him. The years of hard training and workout had melted the soft, childlike sparkle away to show high cheekbones, a sharp jaw and perfectly straight nose. But his eyes were still the same- soft, warm, always lighting up when he smiled. 

You were yet to grow up- you still looked like an ugly duckling next to a pure white swan, marring beauty with just your presence. Did you even deserve to call him your best friend? Just because you grew up next to him, witnessing his life as an extension of your own? Was that even barely enough to stake your claim as a friend- as anything, to him?

“My ankle was causing trouble again.” you mutter, toeing off the blanket covering your legs to reveal the bandages wrapped around your right ankle. You were no stranger to injury, your body having taken the brunt of consequences for your clumsiness- but when you set foot on the stage, all the world’s pain seemed to melt away. You and Yeosang thrived off the spotlight and so did your friendship- but over the past year, the intensive program you both belonged to had stepped up their training regime and your body was struggling to keep up. “You really need to take care of yourself.” Despite the years spent around each other, it still astounded you how expressive he was without much movement. All he had to do was settle himself on the couch next to you and raise an eyebrow at you, lips curled in disapproval. 

You looked away, the rapid beat of your heart the only betrayal your body gave away for the rush of emotions you were feeling. Damn him for making you feel this way, like summer and winter had descended upon your skin at the same time, like time would stop at your behest when he was around you. Damn him for being so painfully easy to fall in love with. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“You better be, best friend.”

//

“You’re always so good for me.” Kang Yeosang was always alluring, but moments of intimacy made him look otherworldly. He was a passionate lover, that beautiful body of his aiming for pleasure beyond measure. and pleasure you he did, within an inch of your senses.

 You remember not being able to fathom the disbelief you felt when he stood in front of you under a streetlight outside class, hands twisting together nervously as he mumbled out a confession.. a confession of love. It was the dead of night, but you could have sworn you  almost felt the sun’s warmth in that moment, spreading from your heart to your toes, until the second thoughts sunk in. The memory of that momentary terror still numbs your fingertips sometimes, the fear that had coursed through your veins in the aftermath of that sunshine. What if, 6 months down the line, he looked back at this moment and felt nothing but a sea of regret? That you were nothing like the person he’d fallen for, only a shadow that could trail his otherworldly radiance? That he was better off far away from you, that you were better off alone, away from him? But you hadn’t voiced your internal sense of dread, choosing to drown instead in the pure joy that had settled onto Yeosang’s face when you told him his feelings weren’t unrequited. The first drag of his lips against yours was a sensation you knew you’d never be able to forget, the recollection still tinged with midnight softness. That night had  marked the start of your tryst with Yeosang and romance. Shifting from friendship to lovers was smoother than you had anticipated- it was only a matter of your cafe runs now being categorized as dates, the two of you now able to stumble to one of your apartments hand-in-hand, giggling like high school sweethearts. Your belongings were already scattered around each other’s homes, your parents exchanging knowing glances and accepting the other into the family. As the days went by, slowly and then all too soon, you couldn’t help but look back and think, oh, what an enchantment the two of you were.

You were the king and queen of your dance major, the ones most likely to make it in the world, hand-in-hand. Your duets were the tear-jerkers, the seat-shifters, the reason for the wolf-whistles and the frat-boy whoops in the annual showcases. You were savored by the spotlight, adored by the souls in the seats, envied by your peers.. but your love was for no one but each other- until it all went to hell.

//

“You know I have to do this.” Kang Yeosang was always alluring, but the time he chose to walk away made him unattainable. The accident onstage rendered you  with a weak ankle for the rest of your life- imprisoned away from the spotlight. You would never be able to dance again, said the doctors. You were to consider yourself lucky you could still walk. Even trying to dance again would have you running the risk of never leaving a bed again.

And your love, your  swan, he couldn’t stomach the idea of being with a lover who could never live in the spotlight with him. He was young, your swan, and disillusioned by the stars that sparkled in front of him, reckless in his pursuit to reach them. So he took his first ticket out- away from you, away from the country, into a new world with a dance company and a dance scholarship.

You hadn’t even left bed rest when he had slipped into your hospital room, looking for all the world like he’d committed a crime he couldn’t bring himself to regret. “You’re okay with me leaving, right?” The undertone of the question felt clear enough that you didn’t say it aloud- looking back, it was possibly because you were too scared of having to hear the words out loud. What were the chances that he would want to keep a relationship with a broken dancer from an old chapter of his past? That’s right, none. It took everything in your body to subdue the response you yearned to give him- no, you weren’t okay. NO, You wanted him to stay. No, you didn’t want to be left behind. But even in the state of imminent despair, the only thing you registered was the hopeful glint in his tired eyes. The same eyes that had dreamt and fantasized of this day, to be worthy of the world’s best, be the world’s best- “Of course, my love. Congratulations, I’m so happy for you.” You reached out for Yeosang’s hand and let him clasp it, his uncertainty melting away as he pressed one last fleeting kiss to your knuckles before the seconds began to fly. All too soon, he was getting to his feet, squeezing your hand before turning away.

“I’ll miss you.” he breathed hesitantly, turning around at the door to meet your gaze for what felt like one last time. “I love you.” His whisper was as light as air, but the silence of the sunrise allowed the words to grace your ears before he slipped out of the room as quickly as he had come, leaving you all alone. Just as you’d feared. He didn’t even break your heart behind him-

So you steeled your nerves and broke your heart by yourself. “No you don’t.”

You remember feeling broken for a long time, like you’d lost an anchor that had held you to the ground where you were supposed to be. In one fell swoop, you lost the spotlight and you lost him. You had nowhere to go anymore- no safe haven, no safe human. And yet, you couldn’t bring myself to hate him, your swan.

Was this what unconditional love felt like?

//WHAT IS\\

“Miss!Miss ! What are your plans for this fine evening? I’m sure a beautiful young lady of your stature has many places to be?”

The lights shone in your eyes- not as one large blinding gleam, but as tens of tiny blinking ones. The cameras clicked at you, petite spotlights of their own. 

“Maybe attend a recital, maybe find a drink in your marvelous city.” A renowned romance author at your age was unheard of- and with the rarity came fame. You pieced yourself back together, all by yourself. You  grew up, from a broken ugly duckling into something beautiful. This time, you were your own anchor. 

//

Kang Yeosang was alluring, but the spotlight following his solitary movements across a worn wood floor made him look like a god. There was nothing hesitant about his movements, the song building up to the swan song, the final adieu, the farewell of a character who had lived too much, too young. The audience was alive, electric with the feeling he left them with.

He made the right choice, your beautiful black swan. Watching him there, onstage, at the zenith of his existence, glowing, burning, alive under the spotlight that was so beloved to him… the embers of what you felt for him stirred, but you know they’d never come to life again. 

The spotlight was your swan’s home, and your words would always be yours. 

Thank you for reading! Do let me know what you think! - xoxo, Elliana <3

Network Tag: @kpopscape​ 

[pedros-mustache]

clandestine

summary: some things are best kept in secret.

word count: 3k+

warnings: smut (18+ only!): unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight dirty talk, hand over mouth at least once. also: age gap (reader is legal but no specific ages are stated), language, x fem!reader.

a/n: uh—this is relatively unedited and i’m unsure about the ending, but what are you gonna do? it’s also my first smut piece and i am very anxious about it. please be kind.

as is wont with most affairs of the heart, your interest in the surly mercenary begins as a slow simmer. 

he strikes you as unique the first time you lay eyes on his wide shoulders and bronzed skin. he stands in the manor courtyard, muted clothing and worn chainmail so different from his fanciful counterparts. though they have been hired to secure and protect the castle in anticipation of the king’s arrival during the spring festivals, he alone does not spruce his protective gear or tie a brightly colored ribbon around his upper-arm to signal his country of origin. he is simply there: a gray, brooding cloud amidst vibrant, high-flying kites.

you think that’s what interests you the most in the beginning.

there’s something unattainable about him from the very start. he is decidedly removed from it all: the joy of winter leaving at long last, the frenzied preparation for the week of festivals in two months’ time, the slowly encroaching haze of desire that pervades the manor and its inhabitants. while other mercenaries flirt endlessly and take the opportunity to relax before the truly wealthy and powerful arrive, he stands at his guard with a placid face. he does not so much as move a muscle when you do toss a curious glance over your shoulder as you pass him by. he simply… looks on.

he eats with abandon, as though worried one of his fellow sellswords will steal from beneath his nose. from your place at the high table in the great hall, you study his movements and the shift of his eyes. he does not appear nervous. no, he is too confident for that. he’s possessive of his time, his food, his belongings.

your sister discovers his name is tovar—pero tovar, a spanaird recently returned from the far east. she tells you the other men find him too grumpy and too arrogant for their own liking, and before you can question her further, she confesses her curiosity about another mercenary who makes her heart tremble with delight. several years older, it is the first time your sister confesses anything to you of great worth, and you spend the night buried beneath her covers, giggling and dreaming and hoping for her future.

still, when she finally falls asleep, you stare at the ceiling and wonder what sours tovar’s mood. like your sister is affected by her suitor, you are affected by tovar, though he is far from your suitor. he is just a phantom in the back of your mind, ever-present and mysterious. he’s nothing more than that.

yet the first time you hear him speak you feel your chest tighten.

he, as well as the other sellswords, have walked the manor halls for a fortnight, and he has plagued your thoughts for just as long. in all that time and in all your carefully arranged moments of passing, you have not heard him utter a word. he is silent as the grave, as gray and seemingly lifeless as one too.

but then, when you cross the courtyard one afternoon and richard, the pox-ridden son of your father’s dearest advisor, says something lewd in your direction, tovar comes to life.

he steps away from his post by the manor steps. it’s a single step, but it stops you dead in your tracks. he clutches the pommel of his sword and lays an unyielding stare on richard. “watch your tongue, chico,” he drawls.

and that is it. he says nothing more, merely waits for richard to scurry away, tail between his legs, before returning to his post.

for your part, you gape at him. you do not know what to say, how to respond, other than blink in stunned silence. his voice is deep, a rumble in his chest, accented with something unfamiliar but nonetheless sweet to the ears. you want to hear him speak again and again and again until you drip like spilled honey.

he looks at you, then, and your face feels as hot with hellfire. your thoughts are no different—especially when he looks you over, a long glance from the crest of your head to the satin of your slippers. the leather of his glove creaks as he tightens his hold on the sword pommel.

“go on, hermosa,” he says, his tone clipped with something akin to frustration.

you obey and lose yourself to the tasks of the day.

still, he remains in the back of your mind like a specter, and you resolve to keep him that way as the days pass. the festival draws closer, anticipation of the king’s arrival sending the manor into anxious exuberance. you nearly forget him, about the way his voice and his glance quickened your heart, as your mother gives you task after task and your sister spends her evenings waxing romantic about her paramour.

but then as you slip out of your sister’s room late one night, you see him in the hall, and you remember it all, and your gut twists.

it is dark. the moon hangs high in the sky, spilling its light on the stone floor of the outer hall. it casts a glow around tovar, something that makes him appear more angelic than you think he is. perhaps that’s what drives you forward. how can someone shrouded in such light be anything but a godsend?

you speak his name when you reach his side, but you imagine he already knows you’re there. still, his name feels right falling from between your lips, and you say it again when he does not immediately respond.

“tovar?”

he swivels his head to face you. moonlight catches on his faded armor and smooths the rough scar above his eye.  

he kisses you before you can react, his mouth harsh against yours. it is a shock, but not an unwelcome one. you have dreamed of this—of more than this—since you first saw him, and to feel him against you now is ecstasy itself. until, of course, he brings you to new heights of pleasure in that very hall, beneath the moon, shrouded in darkness.

he is firm, but he is not rough, and he truly does not say much. you don’t need him to, you suppose. it’s enough to feel his hands roam your clothed body, his thick length slip in and out of your dripping core. his breathy moans shuddered against your neck sound like prayers, and you squeeze yourself around him when he mutters something in his native tongue as you find your release. he is not far behind, and he removes himself quick enough to spill his seed on the dirty floor.

then he tucks himself back in his trousers and pulls you from the ledge on which he’d taken you. you glance over your shoulder into the courtyard below and wonder if anyone had heard or seen two bodies tumbling together in the cover of night. your legs wobble beneath you, and he grips your hip to hold you steady. his eyes roam your face before he lifts a hand to cradle your cheek. it is such an intimate gesture after a chaotic embrace that you feel your gut twist again.

“go to bed, hermosa,” he whispers. “i will find you on the morrow.”

he kisses you—softly, sweetly, like a husband might his wife—and it ignites desire in you all over again.

dizzy with emotion, you obey him once more and go to bed.

***

it continues—quick fucks in the dark of night or in empty rooms or hay-filled stables—as the days progress and the festivals draw closer.

at first, you do not speak. words seem superfluous when your bodies can do the communicating. he alternates between gentle and soft some days to stern and commanding some nights. he shows you things, does things to you, that the stable boys you’ve run with before could never emulate even in their wildest dreams. he is all-consuming, an itch you find you must scratch whenever you get the chance.

no one can know, of course, that you have all but pledged your heart to the sullen mercenary. your father would never approve. it took all your sister’s will-power to convince him of her own genial and steady paramour. tovar is steady, yes, but hardly the amiable sort, and his is older by a fair many years. if you were to hazard a guess, he might be closer in age to your father than you. that would not sit well with your father; you know that without bringing the idea of your match with tovar forward.

besides, you aren’t sure if tovar wants you for more than you are now. though with each passing day your heart winds itself tighter around him like a vine, he has sworn no fidelity to you. in fact, there are times you are surprised he even remembers your name.

but it doesn’t matter. not when he feels so good and tastes so good and—

you will be content with what he gives you until his time in the manor is complete and he must move on.

to your great delight, as the king’s arrival draws nearer, you find your stolen moments with tovar grow deeper than simple carnal pleasure. he talks more, telling you stories of his long years wandering the wide world. he recounts the story of his many scars as he connects the dots littering your naked flesh. he brings you a trinket he saw in the marketplace that made him think of you and wonder what the pearls would look like nestled in your hair.

you think, on some level, he must care for you. at least, he’s grown to care for you. while he may not wear his affection for you like a badge on his chest, you can tell that there is something that keeps him coming back to your side. it’s in the way his head turns to watch as you walk by and the way his eyes find yours over the crowded great hall at meal time and the way he murmurs sweet nothings in your ear as he takes you by the firelight.

who would have thought—a highborn girl, barely a woman, and a grumpy goose of a spaniard?

on the first day of the spring festival, you don a virginal white gown, soft against your freshly washed skin, and decorate your head with a crown of wildflowers before departing to the festival grounds. it is customary to forego shoes in honor of the earth’s rebirth, and you find the soil beneath your feet chilly compared to the rest of your warm body. you laugh and dance along with your sister and other manor guests, twirling brightly colored ribbons over your head.

you catch sight of tovar several times throughout the day. he guards one of the king’s inner-circle and does not appear all too pleased by the post. of course, what does please tovar is illusive even to you.

he dips his head in acknowledgement when you grin at him from across the meadow. a friend whispers something devilish in your ear about his scar, and you dissolve into giggles, your stare still trained on his unmoving face. perhaps the mulled wine you’ve consumed throughout the day has made you giddy, but, really, the bright spring sun and warm air and smiles all around thaws the winter lingering in your bones. hearing your friend wonder about the size of tovar’s… other amenities as compared to his scar just somehow makes the day better.

he catches you—literally—by surprise late in the afternoon.

everyone is distracted by the king versing your father in a game of lawn bowls deep in the meadow. you hover by the refreshment table adjacent to tover’s post, deep in conversation with your cousin over the merits of satin hair ribbons. when your cousin rises to tour the stables, you rise too—

—and find yourself hauled by the wrist into a hidden alcove, tucked away from prying eyes and listening ears.

tovar’s lips are on yours, his tongue licking into your mouth the moment you grant him access. with a muffled grunt, he lifts you by the backs of the thighs and pushes you further into the alcove. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as you wind your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. the cool stone wall supporting your back feels firm while your limbs turn to gelatin under tovar’s attention.

“pero,” you breathe, dragging your lips from his to suck in a deep breath. “pero?”

“uh?” he draws back slightly, and if your eyes are as hooded with desire as his are, you are both doomed. “what is it?”

“someone will hear.”

“not if you keep your pretty mouth shut.” he latches onto your mouth again, and you sigh into the kiss, losing yourself to the feeling.

not a moment later, you feel him ruck your skirts up and around your hips. a rush of air tingles against your exposed thighs, and the dull throbbing between your legs ratchets to a painful ache. you wiggle your hips against his, searching for some form of relief. that blessed relief comes when tovar presses his thumb against your clothed clit. you whimper, the pressure both a blessing and a curse. though there is relief, you need more before you will burst at the seams.

“do you know how beautiful you are, cariño?” tovar’s words are hot on your throat, and you tilt your head back to allow him better access to your skin. “i don’t think you do.”

he moves his thumb in a slow circle, and you see stars.

“i watch you day in and day out, and you are so—” he grunts when your hips jerk forward. “dios mio, i would be happy to watch you forever in whatever you do. you are kind and gentle and i want to watch you—” he shakes his head, cutting himself off. “fuck.”

“pero, please.”

his eyes flick up. “what is it you want? tell me.”

you moan, and the sound echoes in the alcove. “please,” your murmur. “please.”

you’re sweating, sticky with desire between your legs and perspiration on your brow. words evade you as tovar continues his slow assault on your core, one long finger dipping down to run through your folds. you cry out at the touch, and he rushes to remove his hand and clamp it over your mouth.

“hush,” he says—and you think you hear a laugh on the edge of his voice. “do you want the king to find us?”

you scrabble for purchase on his shoulders, moving your hips against the bulge in his trousers. “if it will get your cock inside me, yes.”

“fuck.” tovar’s hands cannot move fast enough, so you aid him until he is freed from his trousers. he slides into you in one easy thrust, and you throw your head back with a wanton moan.

“oh mother mary,” you groan.

tovar chuckles at this. “i do not know if that is the type of call mariá is accustomed to answering, hermosa.”

he fucks you hard, then, his hips pistoning into yours. the wall behind you grates against your spine, but it doesn’t matter. tovar practically splits you open, and you can feel it all—every ridge and shudder and breath against the side of your face. you bite down on his shoulder, leather and all, to keep from screaming his name. tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you find your undoing when he returns his thumb to your clit.

“wh-where?” he mutters. “i cannot hold on—”

you silence him with a messy kiss, slanting your lips over his. “i’m yours, tovar,” you say, the words tumbling from your mouth before you can stop them. “mark me.”

without hesitation, he paints the inside of you with his seed, his body tight against you as he comes.

after a moment, he releases his hold on your hips, and you slide to your feet. your joints feel stiff from clenching every part of him so tightly, and the evidence of your tryst trickles down the side of your leg as you straighten your skewed clothing.

“hermosa?” his gentle voice pauses your efforts to appear less rumpled. you look up and find him staring openly, softly, at you. again, he lifts a hand to touch your cheek. “you cannot be mine. you—you deserve someone much more than me.”

“that is silliness, pero,” you say.

“but—”

shaking your head, you grab his hand. “i will hear no more on the matter. it is you i adore, and so long as you will have me, i will be by your side.”

he shakes his head, looks away.

heart lurching, you mirror his action and take ahold of his cheek. you rub your thumb over the hair peppering his jaw. “sweet pero, perhaps it is i who does not deserve you?”

he swallows hard then presses his forehead to yours. “you are… remarkable.”

“and you are one damn good fuck.”

at this, pero laughs. it is the first genuine laugh you have heard him utter, and it sends your heart bursting into one thousand butterflies. you grin, watching the delight break his face into a wide grin. when he has regained his composure, he nods to the festivities outside.

“we should return before they miss you.”

“pero?”

he turns at the exit of the alcove, his hand still clinging to yours. “hm?”

“one day—” you steady yourself, straighten your shoulders, and face him head on. “one day i want to tell my father about us. i want him to know. i want them all to know.”

pero blinks then adjusts to your words by stepping forward and sweeping his arms around the small of your back. he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “one day, chiquita. one day you will have that and all that you wish.”

“i wish only for you.”

“then you don’t wish for much.”

drawing back, you kiss him softly—as a wife might her husband. “for me, it is enough.”

a round of excited cheers and applause from the meadow breaks the moment, and pero releases his hold on you. he nods to the party. “come, hermosa,” he says. “for now, i will be your secret and you will be mine. but one day… one day…”

he shakes his head, and his words trail off, his eyes wistful.

you understand him clearly, though.

it might not be tomorrow or the next day or even next year. but you are content to wait. if he cares for you as he seems to, if he is willing to wait for the world to soften and ease, one day your clandestine meetings will be clandestine no longer. until then, alcoves and unfurnished bedrooms will have to do.

but who are you to complain?

***

taglist: @insideafictionaluniverse​

[bbrandy2002]

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 17

This is my @wackydrabbles​ post for week 87. The prompt is bolded. "No offense, but I'm not interested."

Book: TRR

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Warnings: Drake and some language.

*I was in a silly mood and this turned into a dumpster fire lol and it feels very rushed but I was trying to meet the word count. There may be a little bit of plot in this.

Word count: 1999

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

Liam sat on the floor with his back pressed against the mattress; one leg bent upright with the other extended crookedly out in front of him. Half of a bottle of Don Julio dangled loosely from a hand settled on his knee while two shiny gold rings encircled the pinky tip of his other.

In a fit of anger late last night, he searched for and consumed the first bottle of alcohol he came across in the liquor cabinet. He had no intentions of getting hammered or even a little drunk; Liam just needed something to take the edge off the hurt. Not that he for one second believed a word Riley told him before she walked out and boarded a red-eye commercial flight back to the States. 

As Liam pondered her abrupt departure in the early hours of the morning, one thing was for sure: He'd never been in love before, but what he felt for Riley was real -- and reciprocated -- that, "no," she spewed from her mouth when asked if she loved him was a lie.  

But why? That was the question he just couldn't figure out.

Having racked his brain for hours and with the sun finally coloring in the darkness of his chambers, Liam set aside his drink and lifted himself off the ground. Every thought that consumed him for the last several hours was riddled with putting the pieces together of why she actually left and why she felt she couldn't tell him the truth. Nothing made sense, yet ruminating alone in his room until he figured it out wasn't going to solve anything; the only way to get to the bottom of this was to retrace Riley's steps from the time she left the ball to when he made his way up to join her a little later. 

Stumbling to the bathroom -- mostly from exhaustion and perhaps a little drunker than he realized -- Liam stripped off the tuxedo he wore the prior evening and took a quick shower before heading down to the security office.

-----------

Riley's heavily drooping eyelids popped wide open when the plane shook from another vigorous tremor of turbulence. Gripping the armrests on both sides of her seat, she hesitated to peek out the window but was relieved when she saw the billowy waters of the Pacific had transformed into small, mosaic blocks of land covered by a shadow of the nearly setting sun. 

When the aircraft settled again, Riley reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone to check the time, grateful to be landing soon. She planned to go straight home, sink into her bed, and sleep the rest of her life away. Maybe wake up every once in a while to sob again before going back to sleep. Whatever Riley decided to do, she hated Madeleine, she hated Tyler, and she hated telling Liam she didn't love him; the more Riley thought about the stunned look on his face when she said it, the more nauseous her stomach felt.

And the nausea was getting worse.

Riley caught the eye of a nearby stewardess and waved her over; she needed ginger ale, and she needed it fast. 

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"I … I need, ginger ale, please." She asked through ragged breaths.

"Let me check and see if we have more." Riley nodded appreciatively.

"Hey. Don't I know you from somewhere?" A relatively large guy in the center seat, whose sweaty arm flab had been lodged in Riley's shoulder since takeoff, asked. Oh shit! Riley cupped a tight hand over her mouth and shook her head vigorously; the last thing she wanted was to be recognized. 

Or vomit.

While the stewardess searched the service cart for the requested drink, the gentleman's eyes enlarged. "Wait a minute. Yeah! You're that little gal who married some king, with ..." he snapped his fingers before adding in his thick Texan drawl, "the monkey and hookers and shit. Wow, my fiance wants to have a wedding just like yours." He held his hand out to her. "The names Beaver Calhoun, mayor of Slippery Nip, Texas. I guess you could say we're both royals, huh?"

Riley lowered her hand slightly; she was past the point of ginger ale helping, and this guy was blocking her way out. "Beaver, I need you to move." 

He stroked his chin in thought. "Well, I don't know, Queenie. I'm pretty content with my life there in Slippery Nip, Not really lookin' to uproot."

"No!' Riley's strained voice responded forcefully, "move out of the way--" She tried to fight it, but her head flung forward and everything came out with her last word.

Beaver looked down at his shirt and quirked a brow. "That's gonna leave a stain."

=============

On the second floor of a run-down Motel 6, just off the beaten path in Las Vegas, Drake tossed in the last of his clothes and airline tickets in a duffle bag and zipped it. Stepping over to the window, he pulled aside the tattered curtains to check if the airport's shuttle van had arrived yet. Disappointed, he grumbled to himself, "Where the hell are you? I'm ready to get the fuck out of here." 

The past week had been intense -- well, frankly, the entire month had been nothing short of shit balls. Five weeks ago, Drake landed in Las Vegas for Liam's bachelor party and won big money at the casino, only to have it all pissed away on some old, decrepit hooker who stole his wallet, cell phone, dick health, and what little joy he had in the world. Liam left with a sexy ass wife, and all Drake got was the false claim of fathering triplets and his scowling face on the front cover of the National Enquirer with Dr. Ethan Ramsey detailing the entire sordid journey from pre-surgical rooster rot to the aftercare.

He made a quick $500 for the story, in which he badly needed the money, considering he couldn't leave Vegas until the paternity test results came back. It was enough for his lodging, a couple cans of Beenie-Weenies and a few boxes of pepperoni Hot Pockets; his stomach felt like oil sludge at this point. But as a joke, Leo had sent a box of Ding-Dongs, so it wasn't all bad.

The rotary phone in his room rang out, and he answered the call from the front desk, which let him know transportation had arrived. Drake grabbed his bag, flicked a cockroach off of it, and exited his room into the enclosed hallway.

After stepping onto the elevator and hitting the down button, another person strolled on in a black leather mini-skirt, white see-through halter top, and a pair of fishnet stockings that he'd recognize anywhere.

"You!" He growled at the chain-smoking hooker, backing her up into the corner. "Do you have any fucking idea what you did to me? And I WANT my wallet and cell phone back, now!" He hovered menacingly over the much smaller woman.

"No offense, but I'm not interested in giving them back to you," Pinquee Kittee sneered before reaching into her bra for mace and spraying him directly in the eyes. The rapid burn gave way to her next act of defense when a screaming, blinded Drake was doubled over by a swift karate kick to his newly transplanted organ. "Hiiiiyah!"

Drake cupped himself in anguish, fell to the floor, and slumped over as the elevator doors opened. Pinquee Kittee grabbed his duffle bag and peeked down the hallway to make sure no one was around before making her getaway.

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

Just outside of the palace's security office, Liam knocked on the door several times without an answer. It was rare that the King would personally pay a visit. Usually, he would call Bastien and have the head guard look into any issues. With him gone, this just felt like something Liam needed to do in person. 

After several more knocks, Liam reached for the door handle and slowly opened it to let himself inside. The lights were off, with only a few CCTV screens displaying various images of places within and surrounding the palace. Finding the light switch on the wall beside the door, Liam flipped them on, and his mouth fell agape at what he saw.

"What the hell happened in here?" He shouted as his hands shot to his hips, glaring around the room. 

On the floor was a maze of beer cans, whiskey bottles, remnants of silly string, a five-gallon bucket of butter next to a slip-n-slide, a voodoo doll with Liam's face on it, and half-a-dozen guards passed out. 

A furious Liam made his way through, kicking the feet of guardsmen as he stepped along. "Get up! All of you!"

One-by-one, they slowly roused until they realized it was the King in their presence, then they jumped to their feet at attention. 

"Would someone like to explain what the actual fuck happened in here?" Liam wasn't one to swear in front of his staff, but there was no way he could hold back after walking in on this scene. His glowering eyes shifted with expectancy from one man to the next, waiting for an answer, until someone finally called out, "We threw Rogers a going away party for his last night on the job, Your Majesty."

"And you thought having a wild party while you were ON DUTY to protect 400 members of the nobility for a major event was the time to do that?

The guard shook his head. "Not at all, Sir. I admit we weren't as attentive as we should have been last night ..." he pointed behind Liam, "but Prince Leo came by and suggested we kick it up a notch."

Liam turned around and caught Leo slithering along the edge of the wall toward the door. "Leo!"

The Prince stopped dead in his tracks, then flickered his eyes and jolted his body as if he were just waking up. Leo looked at Liam, acting surprised to see him. "Liam? Is that you? H-How did I get in here?"

Liam rolled his eyes. "Knock it off, Leo."

"What?” Leo shrugged innocently. “You know what I think happened. I must have been sleepwalking again. You know how I get when I watch The Duchess before bed." He cocked his head introspectively at his brother. “And you do look like the Duke from that movie, you handsome devil you?” He grinned impishly.

Liam stared blankly at his older brother for a few seconds, then turned around to face the others gathered around. "Who's in charge here?"

When one of the men raised a hand, the King stepped up to him and explained, "Alright, I need you to pull up security footage from last night. I want to review everything from the moment I stepped outside the ballroom to meet the Queen around 9:30, and where she went after I went back into the ballroom." 

If this were any other day, Liam would have fired every one of them on the spot and sent Leo to Antarctica, but he only had one concern: Finding out what happened to Riley.

As the guard typed in his computer to pull up footage from last night, Leo stepped up to Liam, who was hovering over the guard's shoulder with anticipation. "What's going on?"

Never taking his eyes off the screen, he responded. "Riley went back to Las Vegas last night."

"Wh-Why? What happened?"

Liam let out a breath. "That's what I'm trying to find out."

Leo remained silent before giving his little brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and watching with him.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as different camera footages were switched to follow Riley walking from the main staircase, through several passages, and finally ending with the corridor outside of his quarters.

"Stop!" Liam leaned in closer as the guard paused the video; his entire body tensed up at what he saw.

"Is that ..." Leo scrunched up his face in disgust.

"Madeleine."

___________

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