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mumms-the-word · 5 months

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Ascension, Return

Pairing: Gale x You (Reader POV) Summary: You watch as Gale restores the Crown of Karsus and temporarily becomes a god before disappearing to return the crown to Mystra. And you can only hope, now that he is a god, that he will return. ao3 link A/N: I was thinking the other day about how in the ending for an Origin run for Gale, regardless of how he plans to deal with the crown business, he always shows up as God!Gale in front of Mystra before agreeing to hand over the crown or deciding to stay a god. And it got me thinking...wouldn't a romanced Tav who is expecting him to give up the crown see him ascend? So anyway I wrote this to get those thoughts out there. As usual pic of my Tav Dani because I keep forgetting to ask to borrow people’s better pictures

It doesn’t take long for you and Gale to make plans to retrieve the crown from the depths of the Chionthar River. The sooner you get this over with, the better, you think, and yet something about this endeavor has you on edge. You secretly wish you can just leave the crown down below the waters…but then, anyone could get it down there, with the right spells or the right technology. You can’t risk that.

You don’t want it in Mystra’s hands either, but what choice do you have? She, at least, is a goddess interested in balance, neither evil like the Dead Three, nor entirely good and thus subject to extreme corruption. There’s no telling what she’ll do with the crown, but she has offered one thing in exchange—a cure for your lover’s affliction.

He’ll be free of the dark hungering orb at last.

It’s enough to convince you. You retrieve your worn bedrolls from the Elfsong and shoulder your pack, ready for your next little adventure—a small boat ride to the other side of the river, and a few days spent with Gale as he searches the murky waters.

You join him on the banks of the Chionthar, well away from the bustle of the city as it is trying to rebuild, watching over him as he sits, eyes glazed with concentration, guiding simulacrums to walk the riverbeds and floors of the river, combing through the mud for the crown. He could have let his simulacrums search without him guiding them, but he wants to be sure, to search closely. He doesn’t want to waste his time turning away simulacrums who bring back scraps of metal, shrapnel from the Iron Throne, or bits from the carnage of the fight against the Netherbrain. So he looks through their eyes, seeing nothing for hours but hazy water, mud, and river plants.

Though you long to lie back and watch the sails of fishing vessels drift by like clouds on the breeze, reveling in a hard-won moment of peace, you don’t want to miss a moment where he might need you. You do not want him to be caught unawares by some curious animal, or worse, a lingering enemy. So you sit and watch, your stomach twisting into knots as you face what you know will be inevitable—the moment when he finally finds the crown.

It takes all of two days of searching. After hours upon hours of looking, he stiffens, his physical body reacting to something beyond your sight, and you know at last that he has found it. You both stand as his simulacrum emerges, dripping water, with the cold bronze of the crown in its hands.

The Crown of Karsus.

It’s so much smaller than you remember. When you faced it on the top of the Netherbrain it had easily been the size of a large carriage. Here, on the banks of the Chionthar, it’s no bigger than a normal crown. It looks innocent. Harmless.

But you know better.

The power it releases…you are no stranger to it. You readily recall the metallic taste on your tongue as you drew near it atop the Netherbrain and the way its very aura tried to drive you to your knees. Its power is weaker now, pulsating from the bronze metal like a faint heartbeat, but you know that it won’t stay that way.

You glance at Gale, wondering what you’ll see in his face. Dark hunger, perhaps, or something bittersweet. Reluctance, dread, or tired resignation. But his expression is surprisingly neutral. He doesn’t step forward to take the crown just yet. Instead, he studies it with his eyes before taking a deep breath through his nose and turning to look at you.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

You blink, a little taken aback. “Of course,” you say. “Always.”

“That’s gratifying to hear. It will take me some time to restore the crown and the Netherstones to their original state, fit enough to give to Mystra. The process will be necessarily delicate, given the orb I carry. I should ask you to keep a safe distance. A city’s worth of space, perhaps, just in case, but—”

You cross your arms. “I’m not leaving your side, Gale. I’m here with you, for good or ill.”

He smiles then, as much relieved as he is amused and resigned. “I know. I expected as much. But I thought it best to offer or warn you regardless.” He takes a deep breath. “Very well, then. We stay together. I just hope you’ll be patient with me.”

You reach out and take his hand, threading your fingers between his. “I will be. I’m here for you. Take all the time you need, my love.”

He gives you a grateful look, squeezing your hand affectionately before leaning in to brush a sweet, gentle kiss against your lips. You let him pull away, slipping out of reach, and watch with bated breath as he steps forward to accept the crown, the mark on his chest glowing brighter and brighter as he nears and finally takes the crown in his hands.

You don’t know what you expect. A light show, perhaps. A wave of dark, Netherese magic, or a black hole effect. You steel yourself to the fear that he will simply evaporate or fall to his knees in pain.

But nothing spectacular happens, aside from his mark glowing brightly. To your eyes, the crown acts as little more than a normal crown. To him…

You see his chest expand with a deep breath, the orb flaring brighter, watch him blow the air slowly through his lips, his face tense. But without the tadpole in your heads, you can’t guess at what he’s thinking or feeling. He closes his eyes, simply breathing, concentrating. Fighting, perhaps. Wrestling with some unseen force. The glow on his chest dims slowly until it is only a faint purple tint on his skin. Only then does he finally tighten his hold on the crown and turn back to you.

You get the sense that he has just won a silent, unseen battle within himself. It occurs to you too late that putting the crown and the orb in close proximity might actually hurt him. But it seems that the danger has passed...for now. If he’s in pain, he isn’t showing it.

“Come,” he says. “Let us make sure we’re a safe distance from the city. Just in case.”

His words don't inspire confidence, but you say nothing. You merely follow him back to your camp further up hillside. You know he has work to do.

———

You give him time. That’s all he asked for. Time to concentrate on the magic. Time to manipulate threads of the Weave. The Mystran Weave and the Karsite Weave. Sometimes you think you understand what he’s doing, but more often than not, you don’t. The magic he is performing is beyond your comprehension, guided by notes in the Annals of Karsus which lays open in front of him. You suspect some of it comes innately to him, an understanding born from carrying Netherese magic for so long. The rest must come from Karsus himself, written down as instructions or incantations. You give up trying to understand and simply make yourself useful. Or you try to, anyway.

All you can really do is linger nearby, keeping an eye out for anything that might interrupt his work. You barely interrupt him yourself, save to place some food and water near him with a soft reminder that he needs to eat to keep his energy up. He’s not a god yet, you tease, but the words taste sour on your tongue.

Yet. But soon.

You don’t feel ready for it. You know it’ll only be temporary. You hope so, anyway. But you’re still not ready.

The day passes by without you noticing. Gale sits with the crown, working, weaving, an illuminated aura around him filled with heavy magic. You leave him to his work as the sun moves slowly overhead toward the horizon, painting the sky in tones of orange, red, and purple. You lay down to watch the swirls of violet and indigo magic that gather around him as night falls, until in your exhaustion, you close your eyes for a moment to rest.

You don’t know when you drifted off to sleep, but you’re awoken in the early hours of the morning by his hand on your shoulder. You stir, blinking groggily up at him.

“It’s time,” he says softly. He helps you sit up, hands lingering on your arms, your hands. The crown isn’t with him, but sits on top of his pack several feet away. “I’ve done all I can. The stones and the crown are together again. Functionally the crown is complete, but…there is one last step I need to take.”

He kneels in front of you, dark eyes searching your face in the dim firelight. No, you realize. Memorizing. You feel a sudden knot in your throat and though you are seated safely on the ground, it feels as though a yawning void is opening up around you, threatening to swallow you whole should you tip too far to one side.

This feels like a goodbye.

“Once I put on the crown, the magic of the orb will finally combine with that of the crown. And I will…change,” he explains quietly, while you try to calm the surge of fear that grips your heart. “The magic of the crown and orb will become one and give me the power at last to meet with Mystra as an equal.”

An equal. He doesn’t say as a god. But you both know the truth.

You can scarcely breathe. You want to trust him. You want so desperately to believe in him. And he is looking at you so lovingly, but the very air seems tinged with sorrow. Nothing is certain. Nothing save his love for you, and even then, the tiniest doubt worms its way into your head and your heart.

Once he is a god…will he even remember to come back to you?

“And then?” you ask, your voice no more than a whisper.

“And then…I will hand the crown over to Mystra. And hope she keeps her word.”

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I trust you, my love.” You use the words, saying them out loud, to dispel your doubts and fears. You do trust him. With your life, with your heart, with your all.

If only you could trust Mystra. Can she be trusted to cure him? Can she be trusted to let him return? And if he does return, can she be trusted to let him return unchanged? Chosen or not, will he still be Gale Dekarios, the man you love? You don’t know. But you hope so.

He smiles at you and brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek, his fingertips trailing along the line of your jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He leans in for a kiss and you, selfishly, wrap your arms around him and hold him tightly to you as your lips move against his, wanting to never let go. You rise to your knees, following him as he tries to pull away, kissing him deeply, tangling your fingers in his hair, until at last you are both breathless and you have to hide your face in his shoulder. You cling to him, reluctant to let him go just yet.

“Just come back to me,” you whisper. “Whatever happens.”

His arms tighten around you and you feel the bob of his throat as he swallows with difficulty. He strokes your hair and your back, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your head. You can feel it in every touch and breath he takes. He doesn’t want to let go yet either.

“I will, my love,” he whispers back. “I swear it.”

It’s enough for now. It has to be. You could delay this day for a thousand days and still never be ready to let him go. But you have to. If he wants to be whole again, free of the orb, perhaps even free of Mystra…he has to do this.

You reluctantly loosen your hold on him and sit back on your heels, meeting his dark-eyed gaze in the early hours of the morning. He takes your hands and lifts them to his lips, brushing kisses against your knuckles, turning your hands over to kiss the center of your palms. Each touch of his lips to your skin is a reverent confession of love and longing and it only makes your heart ache more.

Please don’t let this be goodbye.

“Wait for me,” he says.

You cradle his cheek in your hand, gazing earnestly at him, soaking in every detail of his handsome face, committing it all to memory. “I will, my love. I swear it.”

He smiles at you then, full of love and happiness. He steals one last kiss from your lips before finally pulling away and standing, taking several steps back.

You stand too, preparing yourself for what is about to happen, even though you scarcely have any idea. You expect some of what you expected before, with light shows and waves of magic at best, disintegration and death at the worst, but now it feels even more real. Even more likely. You don’t know what will happen, so you brace yourself for the worst, heart pounding in your throat, gut churning with dread, and hope, desperately hope, for the best, even though you don’t know what that will look like.

You hold your breath as he moves several paces away from you and bends to pick up the crown. This image, too, you commit to memory. The way he looks illuminated by the firelight, the lights of the city glimmering behind and below him, the stars glittering above him. The sight of him with the crown in his hands, contemplating it with an expression of deep gravity. The crown looks small and harmless, despite the sharp curls and the soft glow of the purple, orange, and pink Netherstones that are now set once more in the bronze. But he looks serious, regal even, with it cradled in his hands. Like a king mulling over the weight of his position and the choices that lay ahead. He is beautiful. Heart-achingly beautiful. You wish this moment could stretch on forever, if only because it means not losing him to the crown. To godhood.

He turns to give you one last lingering look, your eyes meeting over the distance between you, before he slowly raises the crown to his head and settles it over his brown and gray locks.

The effect is instantaneous. A blast of magic blows outward from him, kicking up wind and dust and flashing bright enough to rival the sun. You cover your eyes, shielding your face, the light blinding you. Suddenly the air feels electric, tasting of metal and ozone, as though you’re about to be struck by lightning at any second. Wind swirls around you, picking up speed, a cyclone of power and magic with you caught in the edges. You struggle to stay on your feet, your body resisting the pull into the vortex. What little you can see is naught but a haze of magic, purple, blue, and inky black, rushing around you and mixing with the wind. Threads of blue and silver lightning dance around you, passing close enough to make your hair stand on end, shocking you when you take an unsteady step backward. The vortex of wind, lightning, and magic threatens to suck the very air from your lungs until, with crack like thunder, everything around you stops.

The air grows still. It is as though you suspended in time. Held fast by magic. Your ears are ringing with the sudden silence.

You cautiously lower your hand. You have to blink a few times for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, the sight of Gale causes a flurry of emotions within you.

He stands before you as something…more. A god in all but name. He’s taller, you swear he must be, or else his very presence makes him seem bigger. His skin has turned a shade of hard silver, his hair ashen gray. The mark of the orb stands out in stark black on his chest and when he turns his head to examine his hands, his body, you see splintered blue lightning crackling at his temples and down the sides of his face. His brown eyes now glow blue-white with magic, any trace of his former warmth consumed by the light of the power within him. He’s striking, awe-inspiring…

And you can’t help but fear him, just a little.

On instinct you have the compulsion to kneel, but you don’t. You force yourself to stay on your feet and look at him, really look at him, and try to find the man you love behind this new godly veneer. He has to be in there somewhere. He has to be.

“Amazing,” he murmurs, and his voice is layered two or three times over with a strange echo, one that gives you unpleasant shivers. Even his voice carries tiny waves of power. You already miss the warm tones of his mortal voice with its Waterdhavian accent.

He flexes his hands, raising them before his face, his expression one of wonder and awe. With but a gesture, he summons threads of the Weave together in glyphs and effects you can barely make sense of, though you feel the thrum of magic deep in your chest and know, instinctively, that he is capable of snapping your mind with a thought or destroying you with a word. He smiles, and the effect is strange. He looks like himself but he doesn’t. Something about it seems wrong to you. Uncanny. Familiar and unfamiliar.

The pit of dread in your stomach grows.

But then he catches sight of you, waiting, watching breathlessly, nervously, hoping that he’ll remember his promise to you. His smile fades and for the briefest moment you catch a glimpse of the man you love. Even his blue-white eyes, shining eerily from his familiar face, can’t hide the love he has for you.

He lowers his hands to his sides. “It is done. The crown is fully restored once more.”

You nod. You haven’t the faintest clue what to say next. You’re still trying to make sense of the man-god before you.

He smiles again, and something about it is both patronizing, as though he pities you for not understanding, and sincere, an echo of his mortal kindness and patience. He presses a hand to his chest. “Well, I’d best be off then.”

“Wait—” You reach out as if to stop him and he pauses. Your hand hovers uncertainly in the air before you lower it to your side. "One last kiss, before you go. Please."

His smile softens. "I can deny you nothing, my love," he murmurs. He crosses the distance between you with a strange grace he didn't have before. Before he was elegant, but at times a little awkward. None of the awkwardness remains in him now.

You look up as he stops in front of you, his fingers curling beneath your chin the way he does when he wants to lift your face or guide your lips to his. You stare into his glowing eyes a moment before letting your eyes flutter closed. His lips touch yours...and it's different.

There's a magnetism there now that wasn't there before. You seem drawn in as if by gravity. He tastes of metal and magic, his skin cold but not unyielding. Your lips tingle with each kiss and the moment you seek to deepen the kiss—you gasp as a blue electric shock drives your mouths apart, your teeth practically rattling, your lips suddenly hot, almost burned. You press a hand to your mouth, looking up at him in shock, but he's just as surprised as you are. He seems unharmed, despite the tiny sparks of white-blue lightning still skittering over his lips.

"Ah...what an interesting side effect," he says, touching his hand to his mouth. The lightning calms. "Are you all right?"

You nod, rubbing your lips lightly as the numbness from the shock begins to subside and the tingling begins to fade. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't unpleasant either. Still, you're wary of trying it again.

He watches you, looking torn, before a new resolve settles his features. "Then I suppose that is my signal to go. The sooner I depart, the sooner I can return." He takes your hand carefully, moving it away from your face, and presses a cautious kiss to the back of your hand. His lips impart another, smaller shock to your skin, but this time you're ready for it. Your fingertips go a little numb, but you manage not to wince.

"Wait for me, my love," he says, finally letting go of your hand. "I won’t be long."

You step back, giving him room to do whatever he needs to do, and watch as he begins to glow, brighter than your eyes can stand. You keep your gaze on his until the very last second, when the light grows too bright to stare at. You blink—and then he’s gone, disappearing in a shower of starlight that fades too quickly.

You are left alone in the cool night, with naught but a dying fire for company.

———

You don’t sleep. You barely bring yourself to tend to the dying embers of your campfire and stoke it back into warm flames. After that, all you can do is sit.

And wait.

And wonder.

And pray.

“Come back to me, my love,” you whisper into the cool night air. "Please."

You half-wonder if he can hear you. If, on some level, you’re praying to him, the newest of the gods. You don’t know if that thought comforts you or worsens your dread. How does he think of you now, now that his mind is that of a god, capable of seeing beyond the constraints of a mortal’s limited view? If he hears your prayers, does he think less of you, or love you more? Will he remember his promise, or will the power he now holds tempt him to break it? You want to have faith in him—you do have faith in him—but doubt creeps in despite your best efforts.

Come back to me.

You recall what it was like to wait for him at Mystra’s shrine at the Stormshore Tabernacle. How he had explained that time runs differently in the Outer Planes. How he would only be gone for a moment. Each second that had ticked by during that time felt like a year.

Now, sitting on the hillside, every second that passes feels like an eternity.

The fire crackles. The lights of the city begin to dim. One by one the stars fade out, hiding from view as the black of night begins to lighten into the blue hues of pre-dawn. And still, he isn’t back.

Wait for me, he said. And you will. You’ll wait as long as you have to.

But what if…?

No. You can’t bring yourself to put your fears into words anymore. Doing so will only make them seem more real. More feasible. There could be a thousand explanations for why he isn’t back quickly. You just have to have faith in him.

You get up and begin to pace. You start breaking little sticks and twigs into tiny pieces to feed to the fire, piece by tiny piece, just for something to do with your hands. You pluck blades of grass one by one or count the stars you can see. And you wait.

And wait.

Your thoughts are your own worst enemy and you wish you had called an ally to come and sit with you. Even Scratch with his favorite ball would have been enough to quiet your heart and mind. But instead, you sit alone, the crackle of a fire the only sound to break the silence.

Your eyelids are heavy now and your body longs to drag you down into slumber, but you resist. You want to be there when he comes back. If he comes back. When he comes back.

You get up to pace again, rubbing warmth into your stiff fingers, amusing yourself with memories of him. His smile. His sly jests and silly puns. His hands on your body and his body against yours, yours against his. The smell of him, as much as you can remember. The way he looked during battles, magic crackling and swirling around him. The way he looked in your bed, fast asleep. Gale Dekarios in all his mortal glory, the man you fell in love with. The man you wish was at your side once more.

Gods, but you miss him. You press your hands to your chest, feeling your heart beat beneath your palms. What is taking so long?

The first hints of pink and orange appear on the horizon as you turn to pace away from the fire again, your steps wearing a noticeable path through the grass. At this rate, you fear the sun will arrive before your love does.

You contemplate how you’re supposed to face the whole of a new day alone when a flash of light illuminates the darkness behind you. You whirl, heart racing, to see a shower of starlight once more—and out of it steps Gale.

Mortal. Human. Alive.

“Gale!”

You fly into his arms, which he is already holding out wide for you, nearly toppling you both into the ground with the force of your embrace. You both stagger, but you don’t let go, and his arms around you are as fierce in their hold on you as yours are around him. He practically lifts you off your feet. You can’t put into words how much it means to you that he’s solid your arms—warm, breathing, alive in your arms.

“You’re back,” you gasp, the tears in your eyes and clogging your throat making it difficult to speak. You don’t want to sob and make it seem like you doubted him, but the emotions welling up inside you are hard to suppress. “You came back.”

“Of course, my love,” he says soothingly, not yet relinquishing his hold of you. “You are everything to me. I could do nothing else.”

You untangle yourself from him to wipe the tears from your face and look at him, looking for any changes wrought by his visit to the Outer Planes or from his brief time at godhood. He looks like himself again, his lightly tanned skin flush with warmth and love, his dark brown eyes as rich and deep as ever. You comb your fingers through his soft hair, once more brown and shot through with hints of gray, rather than all over ashen as it was a while ago. Your fingers linger on his cheek, noticing for the first time that the dark vein-like threads that trailed from his eye to his chest are no longer visible.

The mark of the orb is gone.

In its place are a series of faint scars in the same threads and shapes as the old mark, appearing just below his jaw and flowing down to form a circle over his chest. The tattoo-like color has faded away entirely and there is no dark bruise at the center of the circular marking. Any trace of Netherese magic is gone, leaving behind little more than scars faint enough to be missed by any who are not actively searching for them.

You trace the circular scar lightly with the tips of your fingers. “Does this mean…?”

“It does,” he says, pressing his hand over yours so that both of your hands are pressed flat to his chest. You feel his heart beating, his pulse perhaps a little elevated, but every beat strong and vibrant. “Mystra has cured me of the orb. Completely.”

You want to hate her, and perhaps you still do, and always will on some level. But in that moment you’re grateful and relieved too. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight, overwhelmed with happiness and relief and joy. Your love is cured at last. The threat of losing him to Netherese magic is at last put to rest. He is whole again. Restored.

And he is yours. Not hers.

As dawn colors the sky overhead and spills pink-golden light over the both of you, you kiss him, reveling in the taste of him, in the warmth and weight of him, in his hands on you. Not a single spark of lightning threatens to drive you apart, so you deepen your kisses as much as you please. You simultaneously want to push him down into the grass and make love to him there and kiss him for an eternity you know you both don’t have and simply gaze at him in awe and wonder that even while he had godhood in grasp and a crown on his head, he gave it all up for you.

He gave up godhood for you.

You never realized you could love him more than you already did. But you do. Your every heartbeat sings love for him.

You lose track of time kissing him. It could be moments or hours. You don’t know nor do you care. But at last, when you finally pull away from him, it takes you a second to remember where you are, standing out on the hillside across the river from the city. The sun is rising over the horizon now, painting the world in gold and shifting the hue of the sky to a beautiful, cloudless blue. A new day is beginning.

A whole future awaits. And it is yours to shape with your love at your side.

“What’s next, my love?” you ask. “Now that we have everything we both want.”

“Next? For us?” He chuckles and takes your hand, bringing it up to press a tiny kiss on your empty ring finger. “If you still want me, I believe we have a wedding to plan.”

“I will always want you, Gale Dekarios. Now and forever.”

“Is that a yes to planning the wedding? Because I’ll have you know that Waterdhavian weddings are quite the large-scale affair.”

You laugh, his humor clearing the air like the sunlight warming away the fog of a morning and the dew on the grass. “Yes. Come on, let’s find some food to eat and get started. I can’t wait to begin a new life together with you.”

“My love, that new life starts now,” he says, bringing you in for another kiss. You smile against his lips and allow yourself to be corrected. He is right, of course.

Your new life with him begins now.

#bg3 #gale dekarios #gale #baldur's gate 3 #my fic #gale x reader #gale x you #I’m not super happy with this one but if I keep staring at it I’ll hate it #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

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redroses07 · 6 months

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JJ Maybank Dating HCS // SFW + NSFW

A/N: Hey guys!! This is just a collection of my thoughts on what I think dating JJ would be like! Sorry if any are a little too cheesy. I can make a part two if you guys want, and maybe a Rafe version upon request. Anyways hope y'all enjoy! Love u guys! ♡⋆˙

SFW

Literally the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for, he has a temper but would never ever hurt you.

You are literally his everything, like when I tell you this man worships you. No matter what he is doing, if you need him he will be there.

One time he was hanging out with Pope and John B, and you called him crying. There wasn't a car nearby and he didn't want to waste time looking for one, so he no joke ran to your house. It wasn't far, but it was far enough for him to nearly collapse at your doorstep when he arrived.

"JJ, are you alright?"

"Mhm- now that m' with you baby."

I feel like whenever y'all are going out he would act all silly and say something like "Your carriage awaits m'lady" in a fake British accent when he picks you up. Then he'd kiss your hand and open the car door for you.

I think his love language is either physical touch or gift giving.

He's definitely a PDA person, like he's always got his arm around you when you're with your friends.

Sometimes he takes it a little overboard and Kie tells his that the two of you are disgusting.

"JJ stop stop." You giggled as JJ peppered kisses down your neck in front of the bonfire.

"Oh my God, just get a room already." Kie snapped.

"Oh shut up you're just jealous!" JJ says.

JJ knows he doesn't always have money to buy you things but that doesn't stop him from still giving you the most thoughtful gifts.

Once he found a patch of wild flowers, picked as many as he could hold in his hands, tied a ribbon around them, and gave them to you.

You of course loved them, and gave him the biggest hug.

SPEAKING OF HUGS!!!! JJ is totally the type to sneak up behind you and attack you with a hug.

This happens so often that you would think you'd learn to see it coming, but somehow he always manages to surprise you.

You squeal as JJ aggressively wraps his arms around your waist, smothering your face in kisses.

He's also the WORST about picking you up and throwing you in the water.

"JJ it's cold!!" you squealed in protest as he threw you over his shoulder.

"Oh well that's too bad!!" JJ cackled as he threw you off the pier into the icy water.

NSFW

HIS RINGS. This is probably weird but I don't think JJ takes his rings off when he fingers you. And I know DAMN WELL that cold metal feels so good.

I am a firm believer that JJ is a little munch. He loves loves loves to eat you out, especially when he's high. He's surprisingly good at it too, and definitely gets pussy drunk.

I just know that JJ could be super submissive at times, especially when he's had a long day.

When he comes home after a stressful day he wants nothing more than for you to relieve that stress.

"I need you right now baby, can you please take care of me." JJ whines. tugging at your clothes.

"Whatever you want, my pretty boy." You say, climbing on top of him.

I feel like JJ has a thing for doing it outside. Like whether it's on the beach, on his boat, or just straight up in the ocean.

You two cannot go to the beach alone at night without it ending with your clothes discarded off to the side.

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

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Jungkook/ Platonic!Ot6

The Twilight State | TEASER

There's a place for everyone, somewhere out there.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Alien!Bangtan, Platonic!ot6 x Reader, romantic!Jungkook x Reader, cold climate, a lot of physical affection/contact, angst, romance, fluff, more warnings TBA

Length: ???

There is no taglist for this fic.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°👽°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"She was used as bait, in that case." Yoongi dryly explains. "Gives an explanation as to how she survived an attack. Vrax don't eat humans- but other groups use them as distraction to avert attention anyways in case they encounter them along the way." He says.

"That's horrible.." jimin whines, watching how further away at the pitiful fire, Jungkook tries to help move you. "Well, at least she got away.."

"She most likely won't survive." Namjoon hums darkly, having seen you after all. "We don't know how long she's been out here, but her state is more than worrisome." He shakes his head.

"We should at least bring her to another town-" Taehyung wonders.

"For what? So that we'll be excluded from trading because we brought another mouth to feed instead of anything valuable?" Yoongi snaps. "We can't afford that. The long night is approaching, we shouldn't be stopping in the first place.." he argues.

"I doubt he'll give her up like that." Hoseok sighs. "He seems very attached already.."

"Then he'll have to detach himself quickly." Namjoon agrees with his other friend. "We can't afford to care for her." He shakes his head.

Jungkook, meanwhile, is busy fastening some rope around the blankets he'd rolled you up in, in no way thinking about just leaving you here all by yourself. He knows what it's like to be left alone and behind just because you're considered nothing but weight- he won't be letting you feel that. You deserve a place and group just as much as he did, back then.

Your eyes are barely open as you look at him, now all bundled up in multiple blankets. "You.. probably won't understand what I'm saying, but I'll bring you to the carriage now." He tells you. You want to answer, want to tell him that you do, somewhat, understand him- but you're just too tired. You can't really even think very well- as if your thoughts are about to freeze, everything slow as he turns around and moves you onto his back to be carried towards the large carriage.

"Jungkook- do not get your hopes up with her." Yoongi tries, but Jungkook shakes his head as he lays you down where he usually sleeps.

"I'm not. I'm aware of what might happen." He says, shutting the entrance. "But she deserves to have a chance." He worries. "And even if she's too far gone, no one should die alone." Jungkook shakes his head, sitting close to you, Jimin placing another blanket over you.

"…Let's go then, for now, so we don't fall behind any further." Namjoon sighs. "We'll need all the time we can gain to bury her appropriately later." He simply informs Yoongi, who moves to sit up front with Taehyung, to control the reigns and move the carriage again.

And Jungkook watches you with worry, hoping that you won't need a burial.

Hoping that you'll stay.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook drabble #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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selfindulgentpixies · 8 months

Text

Blood upon the snow: chapter 1

Vampire!Gojo x gn!reader

You read that right folks, it's finally here. Or part of it is anyway. I decided to split my vampire Gojo fic into several parts just because feed back really helps me stay inspired and I'm not sure how long this potential beast of a fic will take me to finish otherwise in all honesty. I've put a lot of work into this fic so far. probably one of the most refined things i've written.

CW: canon typical violence, blood drinking (you know vampire stuff),GN!Afab!reader, reader isn't a blank slate but I still hope you will enjoy putting yourself in their shoes, reader is a hunter(the normal kind), Sukuna is here and he's his own warning. Potential for vampire politics in a future parts if i'm feeling crazy, past satosugu (what you thought i'd be able to leave suguru out of this?)

4.2k

It had been years since it happened but you’d never forget it. The winter had been a particularly harsh one and you’d heard the adults talking about bandit attacks being on the rise due to scarcity. Your mother had soothed you and told you nothing would happen though. That you'd get safely from one city to the next. She’d been wrong.

A merchant caravan was far too tempting a target with all the potential goods on board. From the food to all the valuables carried within. You’d been asleep when it happened, curled up safely in your mother’s lap the both of you wrapped in warm furs and being gently rocked by the movements of the carriage. You were meant to make it to the next major settlement by noon the next day. But right now the moon hung high in the sky, bright enough to to be seen through the thin cloud cover. The world outside was all shimmering shades of blue and white under the winter moon’s silver gaze.

The silence of the snow muffled night is cut sharply by a scream followed by a loud crack of splintering wood echoing through the air, likely from the back of the caravan. You wake groggily in your mother’s arms, dazed and confused as she sets you down on the seat so she can look out one of the carriage’s windows toward the front where your father was at the reins. A wet thump, followed by a scream from your mother. More screams, seemingly from all around, cries from adults scrambling to issue orders. Then your carriage veers, the horses startled by the chaos.

You’re knocked from your seat, tiny body tumbling across the carriage when something suddenly rams into its side, sending it over and off the path. The world goes dark, you’re not sure for how long. When you come to the caravan isn’t immediately in sight though the screams seem to echo all around you. When you finally catch sight of an orange glow in the distance your eyes are able to focus on something much closer as well. A dark shape lying in the snow, red slowly spreading around it. No. Not it. Her. Your mother. There’s several figures in the distance backlit by the distant chaos approaching but you can’t tear your wide eyes from your mother. You begin to crawl toward her when her eyes suddenly fixate on you. “Run.” You freeze. With more strength she speaks again. “Run.” The figures in the distance grow closer. “I said RUN.”

You stumble up to your feet then. A step backward.

“RUN”

And you do. Turning on your heel to stumble through the forest. You hear shouting then but you don’t listen to it. Can’t listen to it because you need to listen to your mother. Her face in that moment seared into your mind. Cold air burns through your throat and lungs as you push yourself to run. To where you had no idea. You didn’t know these woods. You’re quick though, like a little rabbit, running with fur boot clad feet you barely sink into the snow at all while your pursuers stumble and sink through the deep drifts of snow. Too heavy to be supported by the shimmering shell that is the snow’s top layer.

You keep running long after you stop hearing their crashing footsteps and shouts. You keep running until you can’t. You collapse, coughing, lungs burning from the effort and cold. You curl into a ball right there beneath the canopy of pines. You’re not sure how long you lie there, but eventually somehow silent and without sinking into the snow at all a pair of boots appear in your line of sight. You weakly turn your face to look up, your lashes and cheeks decorated with jewels made of frozen tears

A person.. Are they really a person, they seem too beautiful to be a person, it’s as if the moon took human form and came to earth. They kneel down in front of you, expression solemn as they reach out to brush away some of the frozen tears before cupping your tiny face in their large hands. Their hands are nearly as cold as the snow you’re laying upon. All you’re really focused on now though are their bright blue eyes, not just bright but glowing. You attempt to speak but no sound comes out of your raw throat.

“Shhh… Don’t try to speak.” The voice is deep yet melodic, you think it might be soothing if you weren’t so numb. The deepness of the voice at least makes you think they’re a man of some kind even if not a human one. He picks you up and bundles you into his coat. You gaze up at him as he carries you, where to, you have no idea but you can’t seem to care in your current state, so instead you gaze up at him. His eyelashes like the snowflakes that fall around you as they dust over his cheeks with each blink.

You’re apparently not the best listener because you weakly croak out a question. “Are you an angel? Did I die..?”

He pauses mid stride and glances down at you, crystalline eyes wide. Then he laughs, the action jostling you against his chest. “Now that’s a new one.” He adjusts his hold on you and continues. “You don’t need to worry about what I am and no you didn’t die.” His solemn expression has been replaced with a soft one. Lips gently curving at least for a moment and gaze soft before he looks ahead. “No more talking from you, you need your rest.”

You don’t need to be told again as your eyelids feel heavy. The exhaustion from before settling over you like a blanket, wrapped in this strange man’s coat and being gently rocked by his steps you drift off.

You stare up at the ceiling of your small room, blinking away sleep. It’s been years since that night and yet you still dream of it. You roll from your cot, immediately stuffing your feet into a pair of slippers. It was beginning to get cold out, the chill always bringing with it the dreams. Not that it was winter yet. Instead of a world dusted in white the world outside was a fiery palette of reds, oranges and yellows.

You wander your way to the small kitchen where your grandmother sits with a cup of tea clutched between her weathered fingers. “You slept in.” It’s simply an observation not an accusation. “That’s not like you. Normally you’re up before the sun, not well after it.”

You reach for the pot of tea and pour yourself a cup, happy to cradle the warmth in your hands. You hum. “And yet you didn’t come to wake me.”

Your grandmother hums in turn then, it was a response you picked up from her after all. “Of course not. You need to get more rest or you’ll burn yourself out. You’ve spent nearly everyday in the woods either hunting or gathering other supplies.”

“I need to make sure we’re both taken care of. It’s predicted to be a harsh winter. This fall has already been particularly cold.” You blow on your tea and sit across from your grandmother.

“We already have more than enough smoked and dried meats to get through the winter.”

“And the extra can go around to others in the village who need it in that case. If not that I can take it to trade in the larger towns for other supplies we might need. You know, like your medicine. OW!” You yelp as she gives your leg a thwack under the table with her cane.

“Watch your tone,” She replies, both hands returning to her cup to raise it to her lips for another sip. “And stop worrying so much about me. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself still.”

You grumble and rub at your leg. “Stubborn old bat…” you mumble beneath your breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing~” You sip at your tea as she narrows her eyes at you.

Before she’s able to say anything more there’s a knock at the door, drawing both of your attention. “Expecting someone today?” You ask her as you begin to get up and go to the door.

“Not at all.”

Not that it was abnormal for people to stop by for any number of reasons in a village like this. What wasn’t normal was when you looked through the peephole and saw one of the lead elders had stopped by your home unannounced. You open the door quickly and step to the side so your grandmother can see who it is.

“Now to what do I owe the visit, Gakuganji? The elders council isn’t meant to gather until the end of the week.” Your grandmother was technically on the council though she was the current youngest member to be welcomed on. Meanwhile she’s said before that she remembers Gakuganji being old already while she was young. Honestly you can’t imagine this fossil ever being young anyway.

“There’s an urgent matter that I need to discuss with you.” He says to your grandmother while his eyes flick pointedly toward you.

You raise your hands in mock defeat. “Alright alright I’ll make myself scarce. Just give me a minute to get properly changed, old man.” This earns you a glare from Gakuganji and a snort from your grandmother as you head back to your room. Soon enough you’re dressed and heading out the door, grabbing your bow and quiver as you go. Your hunting knife already secured to a belt at your waist. Admittedly you’re curious about what could be so urgent that it would bring Gakuganji here, especially when as your grandmother had said there was to be a regularly scheduled meeting of the elders from the various villages at the end of the week.

You stretch and breathe in the crisp air. Glancing toward the sky you realize just how late you actually had slept in and feel a bit mortified. Your grandmother had really let you sleep in well past noon. You grumble and go to bundle up one of your kills from the previous day onto the back of your horse to bring to the city to sell. You really did need to go and get more medicine for your grandmother anyway.

It’s grown dark once you’re on your way home. The days grow shorter and shorter giving way to long nights. You didn’t mind it much. There was a certain peace that came with it, though while on the roads you didn’t allow yourself a false sense of security. It’s why even when you weren’t hunting you always had your knife and bow. It’s a habit that’s saved your life on more than one occasion, both from creatures of the night and simple brigands who think you’d make an easy target.

Something is wrong tonight. You feel it in the air. Everything is too quiet and when the forest is quiet it often means something dangerous is around. You pet your horse’s neck, aiming to soothe it. That’s when not far ahead you see a figure on the road. You slide your bow off your shoulder, your free hand poised to grab for an arrow if you need it as you steer your horse with your thighs. Not that it needed guidance on the path home which you’ve taken hundreds of times.

“So even rabbits can bare their teeth, hmm?” The figure speaks without looking at you. His voice is deep and dripping with amusement. “Put that arrow away before you get hurt, human. I have no business with you”

A shiver goes through you at the words. Human. Your horse stops and refuses to go forward. Your horse that’s encountered all sorts of beasts and kept its nerve. When you don’t say anything the man looks over at you, his eyes are crimson and his face is adorned with tattoos. You know who he is even without having ever seen him in person. You press your lips into a firm line. Sukuna the vampire lord from a distant land. His territory brushed precariously with the Vampire lord who called your own lands home. Two vampires who were closer to gods than anything walking this earth truly ought to be. Crystalline blue eyes and a snowy night flash through your mind’s eye.

You at least know better than to question his presence out loud. But still you don’t avert your gaze and his eyes narrow. Suddenly he is much much closer, making your horse rear back in panic, knocking you off before it lets out a sound of fear and runs off into the woods, leaving you on your back on the dirt road.

“Perhaps your beast is smarter than you are.”

You let out a hiss of pain before opening your eyes and looking up. He’s standing above you, crimson eyes gazing down at you unimpressed. Fear pricks across your skin and keeps your mouth shut. After what feels like an eternity he snorts and suddenly you feel as if you can move again. You scramble to your feet and look away. Years of experience have told you not to take your eyes off a predator and give them an opening lest they rip out your throat but your instincts say to stop meeting his eyes and get away. You think your instincts have the better of it this time.

“Now you show sense,” His tone is incredulous. Now that you’re looking away from his face he begins to walk past you. He pauses when he’s right beside you. “You should be grateful I’m in a good mood tonight.” And like that he’s gone.

The encounter leaves you shaken and without a ride. You curse and shakily gather up anything that fell off your horse with you before heading home. Hopefully your horse would find their way back home just fine and wouldn’t get picked off. You’d worry about them being stolen if they liked anyone but you.

You debate the whole way home if you should tell your grandmother that you encountered Sukuna. Would she even believe you? And if she does, what can she do with the information? Bring it up to the other elders at the end of the week? Or maybe Gakuganji is still at the house… Your whole face sours like you just drank bad milk. That old man wouldn’t believe you. There’s no way.

You’re incredibly surprised then when you crest the hill to the village and see chaos. People rushing around everywhere, loading carriages and preparing livestock to move. You break into a run toward your home. This had to do with the elder’s visit, there’s no way it wasn’t related. When you burst through the front door and into the kitchen you’re surprised to find your grandmother much like you had this afternoon when you’d gotten up. Though this time she’s smoking instead of drinking tea. Blue grey smoke curls into the air from the intricately carved pipe.

“Grandma, what’s going on? Why is everyone panicking and why’re you just sitting here?”

A deep inhale and the end of the pipe shines bright with embers casting the old woman’s face in orange light before she sighs out a plume of smoke and sets the pipe down against her little wooden ashtray. “I told the villagers they need to evacuate.”

Your brows furrow together and dread begins to tighten your chest. “But why? What did the old fossil say, and don’t try and say it’s unrelated.”

She snorts. “Don’t let him hear you call him that…” she ignores your mumbled ‘you call him that all the time’ and sighs deeply. “You’re aware that we fall within a vampire lord’s domain correct?”

You’re a bit taken aback but you nod. “Lord Gojo oversees this territory and the vampires within it.” Not that he exercised any direct power over the human population. Not in a ruling sense anyway.

Your grandmother nods. “The people of his territory are lucky. He’s benevolent as far as vampire lords are considered. He limits the hunting of vampires within his territory and protects us from outside threats.” She pauses, seeming to think for a moment. “He even saved you and brought you home to me without asking for anything in return.”

You’d started to brew tea as she spoke, needing to direct your attention somewhere to control the dread, but now after lowering the kettle over the flames in the hearth you look at her. Really look at your grandmother, frail and forlorn but with a slightest hint of a smile on her face.

“Imagine my shock when he showed up at my door with you bundled up tight. By the time he brought you home I’d heard tell of what happened to the caravan, I’d assumed you’d been lost. But there he was with you, rosy cheeked and cared for. You’d been missing until you were able to tell him who your family were… “

You sit across from her, wondering where she was going with bringing up this story. “I don’t really remember much other than when he found me to be honest..”

“I’m surprised you remember that much.. Truly though I’d expected him to ask for something in return. Perhaps even ask for you once you were of age.”

You choke on nothing at her words and your cheeks flush with heat. “Grandma! That isn’t funny.” Your voice is indignant.

“It’s not meant to be,” she says seriously then sighs. “My point is we’re lucky. He mostly leaves us all be despite his eccentric whims. That isn’t something many who live within a vampire lord’s territory can say. Afterall when I was growing up I fled from the territory of one who was far more malevolent.”

Lord Sukuna. Your encounter on the road flashes through your mind. Things are slowly clicking into place in your mind.

“Lord Gojo has been challenged to a battle by Lord Sukuna.” She folds her hands on the table in front of her, the weight of her words creating a pit beneath you that threatens to swallow you whole. You'd heard the stories of how those who lived within his domain lived or died based on his pleasure of displeasure.

“On the road tonight-” you begin but your grandmother cuts you off.

“This is why the village is evacuating. We’re too close to where the battle is to take place. Though some are going to go further than others. If Lord Sukuna wins, who's to say how quickly all our lives will be thrown into chaos. If he’ll decide to try and take over or if this is simply a game to test his power.”

You chew your lip. “Okay if that’s the case why aren’t you preparing to leave as well?”

She makes an incredulous sound. “Please, you know how my health is. I’m staying here, I won’t be run off from my home by him again. I told the villagers to evacuate so they can make their own choice. Mine is to stay here.”

You stare in disbelief. Maybe you shouldn’t be shocked considering this small village basically sprung up around your grandmother after she settled here. But still to just stay and wait for whatever happens…

The kettle begins to whistle and you push away from the table to get it. To prepare you both steaming cups of tea.

“My question then, oh grandchild of mine, is what will you do?”

Your hands tremble slightly as you pour each of you a cup. “How long do we have, do you know?”

“Two nights from now on the harvest moon.”

“Thats-”

“Incredibly short notice? I imagine Sukuna is forcing lord Gojo’s hand for it to be so sudden. Fight him on that night willingly or he’ll simply begin wreaking havoc in his domain regardless and force him into a confrontation that way.”

“And i really can’t convince you to leave…?”

“No. I decided years ago that I would live out my life here in this village. If it’s to end in a blaze of glory during a battle of titans? Then so be it.”

You tightly clutch at the tea cup in your hands. There’s an unspoken ‘you won’t take that away from me will you?’ that hangs in the air between the two of you. And you won’t. Despite how much it pains you, you won’t take that away from the woman who’s given you so much over the years.

—

In the end you’d left. You stayed longer than most, until the autumn sun was high in the sky, uncaring of the destruction that was sure to be wrought that night. Hadn’t the sun realized that a day like this was meant for storms and gloom? But you’d stayed until your grandmother urged you out the door. You’d wanted to drag her with you but if her final wish truly was to live and die in this village you couldn’t take that away.

You didn’t go far. Only as far as you had to, something in you deciding that you’d bear witness even if from a distance. The powers at play were hard to comprehend. Two beings who appear to be but mere men but with power so immense that you think your grandmother’s description of titans failed to convey it fully. You imagined this is what it was for gods to clash.

The night is old when all seems to have settled and you make your way toward the battlefield. Your intention was merely to see what was left of your home and if your grandmother perhaps still lived. You don’t make it that far though under the harvest moon’s orange red glow. Instead halfway through a scorched field you find him. Pale form covered in ash and blood, once brilliant blue eyes staring dully at the night sky above.

Your breath stutters in your chest. Part of you wishes you could say you hesitate but you don’t. You move to the vampire lord’s side, gently going to your knees by his head. There’s no reaction, not at first anyway. But then dull eyes slowly move toward you. Even still you knew he was dying. If nothing was done he was going to die just like you would have in the snow all those years ago if he hadn't found you.

You draw your hunting knife from your belt, the worn handle carved from the antler of your first kill making it feel like an extension of yourself. You stare at it and its glinting blade, kept meticulously sharp and clean by you, before glancing back down at the man who’d saved you. You weren’t sure if this would even work but you felt you needed to try. Cold steel cuts into the back of your wrist cleanly. You let out a hiss between your teeth at the feeling, and then watch mesmerized by the blood welling to the surface.

With the knife tucked away you slip one hand beneath his head and then lower your bleeding wrist to his lips. At first he doesn’t react. Instead your life simply flows passively past his lips. “Please… I never got to thank you,” Your plea is quiet.

You feel it then, his lips moving against your skin. His lashes flutter before his eyes seem to gain a hazy sort of focus, different from the dullness of moments prior. You press your wrist more firmly to his mouth and you feel his tongue laving over the cut in your wrist. The action surprising you both as something unfamiliar in itself but also in how it soothes the stinging wound. Then like a steel trap being triggered his hands fly up and grab your arm securely before his mouth fully latches onto your wrist, fangs cleanly piercing your flesh as if you were nothing more than a ripe summer peach. You cry out, both from the sudden sting of pain and the abruptness of his action. You don’t try to yank away, instead curling forward, the hand that was once supporting his head going to the ground to curl into the soil. You pant, your face directly above his with your eyes closed tight. The pain is fading as quickly as it started, numbness taking its place similar to when he’d licked the cut you’d made. Your eyes flutter back open and for the first time the eyes you remember from that winter night meet your own. Crystalline as they hold your gaze even as it grows hazy.

You wonder then if you were trading your life for his. If he would drink you dry with every pull of your blood past his lips. You don’t think you’d mind that since your time had been borrowed from him anyway. You sway even on your knees and begin to fall forward. It’s only distantly that you note him releasing your wrist before everything swims out of focus. __

Ba-thump

“Gojo! You’re alive! We thought- .. who is that?”

Ba-thump

“I don’t have time to explain. Get Shoko-”

Ba-thump

And there you have it folks! And i used dividers for the for the first time. Nothin too fancy but I felt this deserved it. I would love to hear if you guys enjoyed this and what your favorite part/s were. This fic is sorta my baby. It's somthing I'll work on when the mood strikes because I want to do it right and put a lot of love into it. I'm really trying for those gothic romance vibes. Also sorry Gojo wasn't in this chapter a ton but I really needed to set the scene and tone of this story.

tag list!: @icy-spicy @margumis @fah-keet @missmugiwara @pastelle-rabbit @mysugu @fushigurro @nanamikentoseyebags @whispers-of-lilith @princess-okkotsu @strawberrystepmom @chifuyuskoneko @katsulock @kinjuutsu @kweenkatsuki-main @biscuitsngravie @pupkashi @chuuyasboots @porridgesblog @kailali @4sat0ruu

divider credit: @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x gn!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x gn!reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gn!reader #vampire gojo #vampire x reader #rossi writes

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forbiddenforestofdesire · 25 days

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Summer of Stancest: Unlikely Lovers

It wasn't that they were twins that made it unlikely.

“Stanley, you knucklehead! You spent thirty years in my house and you didn't bother keeping my glassware in order?!”

”Well, excuse me Poindexter, for having other priorities. Like fixing the Portal. And making sure you had a house to come back to.”

“You're excused. And what is this I hear about you marrying a statue in my name?!”

It's that they were so stubborn, it never would have worked out.

“I call shotgun!”

“No, Stan! You call shotgun every time. It's my turn to sit in the front!”

“Snooze you lose, Sixer!”

“Stanley, let your brother sit up front. He's earned it. And Ford, don't stick your tongue out like that, you look like a hooligan.”

"Yes, Pa."

And it seemed like arguing was a competitive sport.

“You need to go 35 degrees starboard.”

“I know what I'm doing, Stanley. My navigation device hasn't failed me yet. It's accurate..”

“Yeah? Well, Magellan, the Earth based gps says you're going the wrong way.”

”Oh, yeah? Do you want to come over here and see for yourself?”

But when it really matters…

“If you've got anything to say to my brother, say it to my face! No? You wanna piece of this?”

"Stanley's not stupid! If you don't want to help him pass, maybe you're stupid!”

They are a team.

”Ford! I got the rope! I can't hold on too long, get out that damn journal of yours and start chanting!”

“Stay with me Stanley, yes, I know it hurts, but don't go to sleep. Look at me. Do you remember that story you told me, when we were kids? When we saw Treasure Island in the cinema, and you made a version with us? I was Jim Hawkins and you were Silver?”

“Who says cinema?

“I don't have to stop your bleeding, you know. Hey, what did I say? No sleeping until we take care of that concussion.

You could say, they were soulmates.

“Well, the kids are in bed. I got us a DVD of that nerd movie you wanted to check out.”

“I’d hardly call Interstellar a ‘nerd movie’ but Fiddleford told me he found it entertaining. Perhaps the gaffs and inaccuracies will be fun to point out.

"Sure. Let’s watch your thing first, then tomorrow, we’re watching Pride and Prejudice."

“Again? Can't we at least try Persuasion, or Mansfield Park?"

“I like what I like, don't tell me you're not a sucker for that scene where Darcy helps Elizabeth in the carriage?

”Alright. I'll get the blanket Mabel knitted.

But lovers?

“You sure you want to do this Poindexter?”

“More than anything.

”But it's…”

"I don't care. I don't care what anyone thinks, not anymore. Who's out here to judge us anyway. I…I understand if you don't feel this way, and I promise I'll never bring it up again.”

“Oh, what the hell's Kiss me, you idiot.

Lovers seems well, unlikely.

“Yes, yes yes! Oh, like that. Ah…ah!”

“You got where you wanted to go, huh? Told you I knew you'd like that.”

“Don't ruin the moment, just…just hold me.”

“As you wish.

Lovers?

“Why did you bring me to the top of this lighthouse?”

“It's been exactly one year since we started our adventure, Stanley.

“And? Why are you getting on your knee? I know we wanted to try stuff in public, but you know how I feel about heights.”

“Don’t be gross. I…well, I got you something.

“Is…is that a new gold chain?"

“As tacky as they are, I know if I made you choose, you'd choose them over me. So, I made you one. I know you aren't the type for rings…”

“Ford, get up. You already had me at the part where you got me a new chain…wow, you went all out. Looks 24k. What does it say on the back?”

“Read it yourself.”

“Oh, Sixer. Yes. Even if we can't officially…you know I…I….”

“I love you too, Stan. And thank you. For making me so happy.

Maybe the word Lover isn't enough to really describe what they are.

#stancest #ford pines #stan pines #stancest summer 2k24 #summer of stancest #unlikely lovers #love is the one thing we are capable of that transcends time and space #you have bewitched me body and soul #fluff #suggestive #5summersofstancest

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bosbas · 2 months

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Chapter 14: honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy

series masterlist previous part || epilogue

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 2.7k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, healthy amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, slow burn burning a little quicker now, some smooching

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: soooo bittersweet nearing the end of their story </3 sorry for my absence!! but i hope these two getting their lives together is worth it

August 6, 1816 – And finally, this author would have been remiss not to notice a certain Bridgerton’s lovesick behavior at the Worthington ball yesterday evening. And though I’m certain no one who attended the ball would be remotely surprised by this information, the members of the ton who did not can rest knowing that Colin Bridgerton seems to remain utterly captivated by Y/N Montclair.

The pair danced together twice despite not officially courting. This would be highly unusual if the look in Mr. Bridgerton’s eyes whenever he was near Lady Y/N was not a very familiar one. It seems that this season might not be a complete disaster for Lady Y/N after all, given that one man is still fighting for her hand. Whether or not she knows that Mr. Bridgerton feels this way remains to be seen.

“On y va,” said Louis, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you out the front door (Let’s go).

You blinked, surprised that the rest of your family was already piling into a carriage headed toward Bridgerton house. Heavens, you really needed to start paying attention.

The past few days– ever since your father told you Colin would be a suitable match, to be exact– you had been so deep in thought you’d barely managed to function. The possibility of marrying Colin Bridgerton, if he even wanted you, was a daunting one, and you had opted to devote hours of thought to this very notion.

In fact, your pondering had been so extensive that you hadn’t even managed to read Lady Whistledown. After a summer of religiously reading the gossip sheet, you had somehow missed the last two installments without even remembering to look for it at the breakfast table.

Hopping into the carriage alongside Louis, you mulled over the previous night’s ball. Colin had asked you to dance twice, which was highly unusual for two people in polite society who weren't courting. However, you reasoned that he probably was trying to compensate for all the time he spent being a nuisance. Besides, he was a great dancer, and you really didn’t mind.

Especially now that you were friends, it was exceedingly easy to spend time with him.

But did you love him?

The question lingered in your mind, unmoving and unrelenting.

Wouldn’t you know for sure if you did? Was your uncertainty indicative of something deeper? A fundamental lack of romantic feelings for Colin, perhaps? Your sister, Isabelle, and her husband were completely in love with one another, and you weren’t quite sure you felt the same way about the third Bridgerton.

---

As soon as you stepped through the garden door, your eyes immediately scanned the garden, searching for Colin. Finding him engaged in some sort of competition with Gregory and Benedict involving three Pall Mall balls and a fencing sword, you giggled to yourself as you started toward them.

“Y/N,” a hand on your arm interrupted your purposeful walk.

You turned to see Eloise’s excited face, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

“Hello!” you greeted, kissing both of her cheeks as she dragged you toward a shadier spot.

As she launched into a lengthy explanation about her latest read, you listened to your friend intently. Of course, it had only been a few days since you’d last seen her, but the two of you always found something or other to discuss, and you found yourself in deep conversation with Eloise before you knew it.

What felt like a few minutes later, but was probably closer to an hour, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“I didn’t know you were here,” said Colin, not sounding entirely happy with you. “I thought you would have come by and said hello by now,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.

You smiled fondly at his pouting face, unable to help yourself as you looked at this grown man completely worked up over the fact that Eloise had gotten to you first.

“That would be my fault,” laughed Eloise. “You don’t have a monopoly over Y/N, you know. But I fear I’ve talked her ear off already, so I’ll leave you to it.”

Colin rolled his eyes but bent down to kiss both of your cheeks anyway.

“It’s lovely to see you,” you said softly, eyes fixated on his long eyelashes fanning over his face. He really was very handsome, when you thought about it.

You had to physically clasp your hands together to keep from reaching out to him once he pulled back, and you scolded yourself for forgetting your manners. This was certainly not an appropriate way to act as an unmarried lady!

“You’re not upset with me, then?” asked Colin, looking you up and down.

You laughed. “Why would I be?”

“I dunno,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I was just used to it after so long, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well, we’re friends now,” you reassured him. “So there’s no need to worry.”

“Right, friends,” Colin repeated after you, not entirely pleased with the way the words felt coming out of his mouth.

Suddenly, you heard a scream from across the garden, and a bright blue ball shooting in your direction. Turning around just in time to see Gregory’s horrified expression, you came face to face with what was certain to be a Pall Mall ball directly to the face.

But a strong pair of arms grabbed your waist and pulled you away. For a moment you couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened, and you were simply enjoying the feel of Colin’s arms around you as he hugged you tight to him.

Realizing that he had saved you from what would have most certainly been a black eye, you turned your head up to look at Colin. But he was already looking down at you, his grip still tight as he held you to his chest.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes not letting go of yours.

You nodded slowly, not trusting yourself to speak because you were so mesmerized by his eyes. He let out a sigh of relief, loosening his grip on you ever so slightly.

Hearing Gregory’s footsteps approaching, Colin quickly let go of you and cleared his throat awkwardly. But he couldn’t find it in himself to let you go completely, so he settled for leaving a hand on your waist, thumb rubbing up and down comfortingly.

Needing to keep feeling his touch, you raised one of your hands and reached across your waist, placing your hand softly over his and loosely interlocking your fingers.

“I’m so sorry!” yelled Gregory once he reached you. “I wasn’t looking and I swear I would have never hit you on purpose and-”

You laughed, cutting him off. “It’s quite alright, Gregory. Though I’m not certain your mother would agree,” you teased, nodding to where Violet was sitting, clearly furious at her son.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “I’ve got to go save myself,” he said seriously, immediately taking off running across the garden and away from his mother.

You heard Colin laughing at Gregory’s antics next to you, and as you turned around to watch him with his head thrown back and a roguish smile on his face, you took in a sharp breath.

It might have been the sun shining through his hair, the mirth in his eyes, or the fact that he had just saved you from a very painful fate, but you felt like you were seeing him for the first time. You felt a tidal wave of realization so strong come over you that you had to take a step back.

“Oh,” you said softly, barely audible. Oh.

You loved Colin Bridgerton.

That’s what this feeling was. Feeling completely safe around him, so comfortable being yourself, and wanting more of him in any way possible. The need to feel his touch, the pull you felt toward him every time he was near you, and the desire to keep speaking with him for hours– it all made sense now.

You loved Colin Bridgerton.

Of course you did. It was frankly astounding that you hadn’t realized it sooner. But you couldn’t ruin the friendship you’d built with him over some silly feelings, could you?

Despite wanting to run into Colin’s arms, you knew you needed to get as far away from him as possible right then. So, you excused yourself to sit on a more secluded bench where you could think freely about the consequences of your realization.

---

It had been two hours since you had last spoken to Colin, and he was getting antsy.

Everything had been fine. Or at least that’s what he thought. Gregory had catapulted a ball directly at your head, and he had grabbed you and pulled you out of the way. And then refused to let go of you. All because he was too taken with you to remember how to act properly as a member of polite society.

Colin started pacing. You had probably figured out that he loved you. His behavior today had been a dead giveaway. There was simply no possibility of you still not knowing of his feelings for you, and Colin was three seconds away from losing his mind.

You had found out and now you were probably avoiding him, how dreadfully embarrassing. He needed to fix this now. Before your family went home and you never let him see you again.

Wringing his hands behind his back as he approached the bench you had been sitting on for the past two hours, Colin cleared his throat softly.

“Do you have a moment to speak?” he asked, overly formal as he navigated uncharted waters.

You nodded in response, gesturing toward the empty seat next to you. “I suppose we should,” you assented, the past few hours of nerves completely soothed by Colin’s presence.

“I very much appreciate our friendship as it is,” stated Colin. “And I really can’t apologize enough for my conduct earlier in the season.”

“Oh, Colin, that’s not-”

“No, no just let me finish. Otherwise, I won’t have the courage to get it out.”

Colin swallowed before continuing.

“I… I know that you want to marry a titled man and I know I don’t have a fortune. I am a third son with no talents and… and yet, I love you anyway. And I am so sorry. I promise I never meant for this to happen, but I love you. I do.”

You stared dumbly at him, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you realized that he had the same feelings for you as you did for him.

Admittedly, it was a bit entertaining watching him get all worked up over nothing, you mused. But it seemed like he was determined to keep speaking, so you only nodded as he continued.

“Y/N, you are all I think about, and all I picture as my future,” Colin said, eyes not quite reaching yours. “And I’ve never come across someone quite like you, who makes me feel the way you do. I know it’s horrible timing and it’s not at all my place to feel this way or to tell you. You must understand that I am so sorry, but I love you anyway.”

Then, lifting his worried eyes to meet yours, he started reaching for your hand, stopping himself before his fingers touched yours. “I hope you can forgive me because I would be more than happy to attend your wedding and see your dreams realized. But, believe me. I’ve tried, and I can’t help it. Not with you.”

“Colin,” you whispered, hand reaching out to touch his cheek.

He shook his head in response and closed his eyes, clearly pained by the thought of seeing you with anyone else.

“You can send me away if you like,” Colin assured you. “If you tell me to never speak to you again, I will. I’m so sorry. I just needed you to hear it from me.”

“Colin,” you repeated this time a bit more forcefully.

His eyes shot open, and he furrowed his brows at your smiling face. “Yes?”

You giggled. “I think I’d like to kiss you now.”

“What?” he said, dumbfounded.

“I’d like to kiss you now if that’s alright with you,” you said, biting your lip as you held back a laugh.

Colin took a second to process what you had just said. You nodded at him, confirming that you did, in fact, want to kiss him, and his face broke out into the biggest smile you’d ever seen on his face.

Placing a hand on your cheek, he fluttered his eyes closed and put his lips on yours. You brought a hand behind his neck and pulled him in closer, amazed at the feeling of finally kissing someone.

You rather suspected you had wanted this for a while, you thought, your lips moving in sync with Colin’s. How on earth you had managed to keep your hands to yourself before this you had no idea, but as the kiss deepened, you brought your hands to his shoulders and pulled Colin in, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Suddenly remembering why you were kissing in the first place, you pulled away from Colin, who whined softly as you leaned away from him, chasing your lips with his.

“I love you, too, you know,” you said, pecking Colin as he stared at you like you had personally hung every star in the sky.

Colin groaned under his breath, breathing deeply as he once again placed his lips on yours. “I love you,” he said between kisses, not ready to let you go long enough to say it properly. “So much.”

You smiled into the kiss, slipping your tongue into Colin’s mouth and tentatively exploring the new feeling. How you had ever lived without this was beyond you, but you supposed you had never really wanted this before you met him. Even at the beginning of the season, when you supposedly hated him, you could recall more than a few times you had felt this exact desire.

“I hope you don’t plan on defiling my daughter if you don’t intend to marry her,” came your father’s deep voice from behind you two.

Instantly separating from one another, you both coughed awkwardly and tried to disentangle yourselves.

“Marry her?” sputtered Colin, momentarily forgetting that your father had walked in on the two of you kissing a mere ten seconds ago. “I could do that? You would let me marry her?”

Your father laughed. “Even after that," he said, gesturing in Colin's general direction, "it would still be an honor to have you join our family.”

As you watched him walk away, Colin squeezed your hand, laughing gleefully. “Did you hear that? I get to marry you!”

“Were you not planning on marrying me after kissing me?” you scolded, tone only half accusatory.

“No, I mean– Well, I was just–” he rushed out, eyes searching yours frantically.

“It’s alright,” you laughed. “I was only joking.”

Colin let out a sigh of relief, kissing you firmly on the lips. “You never cease to vex me, woman.”

“Isn’t that what you like most about me?” you teased, biting down on his lip softly.

He groaned, unable to contain his desire for you. “We’d better get married tomorrow if you’re going to keep doing that.”

Then, separating himself from you slightly, Colin turned serious again. “You do want to marry me, don’t you? I know I obviously do, and your father said I have his permission, but do you want to?”

You bit your lip, full of affection for the boy who stole your heart. Even after kissing him and telling him you loved him, he still wanted to ensure that you wanted to marry him.

“I think we’d make a good pair, don’t you?” you said, nodding at him.

“I’ve thought that since the moment I saw you.”

“Well, we got there in the end didn’t we?”

“And I’d do it all again just to be able to marry you,” Colin assured you, kissing you on the nose.

—

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akko-kagori · 3 months

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ok but like can we all stop acting like Diluc hates Kaeya????

Like so much ragbros stuff I see is Diluc physically assaulting or just being an asshole to him or berating him for no reason when canon Diluc would NEVER do that to Kaeya

Yes, Diluc did attack Kaeya, but he wasn't thinking clearly and was in a horrible mindset. Obviously this does NOT excuse him attacking Kaeya, but imagine what had just happened to him.

He'd just witnessed mere hours earlier an entire carriage of people get brutally killed, he not only had just witnessed his father die in front of him, but he had to kill him with his own bare hands. And then his brother, the only family he has left, admits to being a spy to aid in the destruction of the city he'd dedicated his life to protecting.

Again, this does not excuse him attacking Kaeya, Diluc needs to apologize to Kaeya, he needs to own up to the attack, but people act like he attacked him randomly, like Kaeya confessed his guilt and laid himself bare and then Diluc tried to kill him for it. But this just isn't the case.

Again, I know I keep saying that this doesn't excuse it, but I feel like if I don't mention it a million times people will think that I'm excusing it or want him to be left off the hook

And it's not like Diluc feels zero guilt or remorse for it, no, he does regret it, he feels guilty about it, in hidden strife it implies that he feels bad about it, so it's not like he attacked him and then feels absolutely no guilt about it.

And in hidden strife, through the letters we learn that Diluc and Kaeya are writing to each other and Diluc clearly cares about his well being. In Kaeya's hangout quest Kaeya tries to lie/trick Diluc into giving him wine, Diluc sees through the lies, but gives it to him anyways. If Diluc hated Kaeya as much as people (Kaeya simps) act like he does, then he would've told him to fuck off or hit him for it. And in the archon quest, Diluc tells Kaeya to just drink responsibly on his premises.

Diluc clearly cares about Kaeya and is trying to be at least a little nice to him, and the entire fandom is just like "Diluc clearly wants him dead and despises him with every fiber of his being :3"

Can we please stop victimizing Kaeya and demonizing Diluc? They're people with deep flaws who both care about each other but are really bad at showing it. Not everything is black and white.

#genshin impact #diluc #genshin #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya #kaeya alberich #ragbros #kaeya simp #kaeya simps #kaeya main #kaeya mains #Diluc simp #Diluc simps #diluc main #diluc mains #diluc lore #genshin lore

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ghostofskywalker · 2 months

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Mayhaps a GN!reader who met Tyler while he was just starting out his storm chasing days. And was there, and helped, as he built up and fortified the truck?

thank you so much for the request!! i don't know if this is exactly what you pictured, but i hope you enjoy it :)

words: 1,476

summary: you and tyler have been friends forever, and the two of you spend some time tricking out his storm chasing trucks.

tyler owens masterlist

When you were kids, you had always been the voice of reason, and Tyler never tried to argue with that moniker. You had always thought that after the two of you went to college and started your adult lives that things would be different, but right now, as you stood there with your oldest friend in front of his busted looking pickup truck, you knew that he would truly never change.

Your eyebrows were raised as you looked between him and the metal monstrosity in front of you. “You’re going to use that to chase storms?”

“I already have, and it’s great,” he said, a huge smile on his face.

“Are there any safety features on it?” you asked. Electing to not mention the giant hole in the front passenger floor (which has been covered up by a stolen cut up stop sign since the two of you were teenagers), you couldn’t help but worry that this wasn’t going to turn out well (for both him and the truck).

Silence. The smile on his face faltered, and you knew when he didn’t have a quick retort that you were not going to like the answer. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”

You sighed, plans already running through your head as you considered what could be done to make that death trap of a truck a little safer. He was just lucky you had spent a few summers helping out at your family’s mechanic and body shop, and that you happened to be free this afternoon.

The modifications were rudimentary at first, especially since neither of you had the money or the connections to get what you wanted. You managed to rig up some simple anchoring devices and attach them to the sides of the running board, but it was clear from the start that these particular supports would not last as long as you wanted them to, and might not even be able to stand up to an F5 tornado, should he come face to face with one.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tyler said from underneath the truck when you had voiced your concerns once more, tightening the connection as you affixed sturdier racks to the roof of the cab. “I want to get a new truck down the line anyway.”

When he rolled out from under the carriage, your eyebrows were raised. “Where are you going to find a truck that’s got the features you need? Especially if you don’t want to be a ‘stuffy suited weatherman’ like you told me?”

Tyler laughed when you brought up the career everyone had been suggesting for him, especially because he had gone to school for meteorology. “I want to do something more than get a desk job,” he said. “Maybe I’ll be one of those people that gets famous for storm chasing.”

“I could see that,” you mused. He certainly had the looks and general charisma to be successful, and based on the way he’s always been able to smile his way out of any problem that crossed his path, you could see people online being enthralled with him. “You have to come up with some kind of cool name though.”

“What about The Tornado Man?”

“I don’t know about that one.”

“Oh! Or Doctor Vortex?” That one, if you were being honest, sounded more like the name of a comic super villain than a storm chaser.

Laughing, you just shook your head. “We can workshop a name for you later. Right now I want to make sure you don’t get blown away the next time you’re out in the middle of a twister.”

***

Unsurprisingly, the decade-old truck you had spent teenage summers drinking beer under the light of the stars in did not last long when placed in the paths of tornadoes at least a few times a month. You hadn’t been there on its last ride, but you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness when Tyler told you about it. The two of you were sitting on the couch in his living room, and pizza had already been ordered for movie night. “I’m going to miss that thing,” you said. “Even though I never wanted to be seen with it.”

Tyler’s laughter was infectious, and soon the two of you were nothing but guffaws and giggles. “Damn,” he said. “You didn’t even ask if I was okay.”

“I did too!”

He smiled, and you just rolled your eyes in response, having known him long enough to be used to the jokes he made.

“So,” you asked quietly, wondering what the response was going to be. “What are you going to use to chase now?” He had indeed been correct on his offhand statement before, that he could be someone that gets famous for all this. Now, after only six months of posting videos on YouTube, he was getting more and more recognition for his actions. The Tornado Wrangler was the name that had eventually been settled on, one that had taken an entire six pack and a rainy afternoon to come up with (and it was your idea, thank you very much).

“I got a new truck,” he said, eyes lighting up. “And I was hoping you’d help me trick it out.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “If the modifications we made before only lasted you a year, I wouldn’t want to ruin a brand new truck. At least the old one was so ugly looking it didn’t matter what we did to it.”

“And if we had some better gear?”

You paused before responding to him. There was a selfish little part of you that wanted him to stop this, because you had seen enough to know just how dangerous some of these storms are. But you were not going to join the cacophony of voices already voicing that opinion on a regular basis (namely, his family), so this was the second best option. You knew that this made him happy, even if you didn’t understand how anyone could ever enjoy it. If you could in some way keep him safe (or as safe as one can be in situations like that), maybe his new truck wouldn’t flip three times with the strength of a particularly strong storm (like the old one did).

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll help.”

The smile on his face only grew at your words. “We can start now if you’d like.”

“Lead the way Owens,” you said, allowing him to lead you to where the truck was parked. Secretly, you were a little more excited than you let on.

His new truck was nice, and the movie playing inside had been long forgotten as the two of you worked. You didn’t ask where he had gotten all these cool new gadgets, and you seriously hoped that this vehicle would be able to withstand what Tyler was about to put it through.

It was like deja vu, as once again you were standing in the bay of the pickup truck and attaching things to the sides, and Tyler was underneath the chassis. “So,” he said. “Are you gonna come chasing with me one day?”

“I don’t know,” you called down to him. “With all your new toys, will there even be room for me?”

“Of course, I’ll just kick Boone out and you can do all the camera work.”

You laughed. “I don’t think he’d be okay with that.” You had recently met the people that Tyler worked with to create his YouTube videos, and you loved every single one of them (you just weren’t sure how they’d feel about you being their replacement).

“Eh, he’d be fine,” Tyler laughed. “But seriously, if you want to go chasing with me sometime, just say so. I’d hate for the person who helped me put all this together to never get to experience it in action.”

You usually weren’t a thrill-seeker, not to the extent that he was. You weren’t usually timid either, but something about storm chasing had never really appealed to you. It was a lot more dangerous than riding a tall coaster or zip lining after all. But now, as you spent this time with Tyler working on the truck, you kind of wanted to experience it, to understand on a deeper level why he loved doing it so much.

“Once you take it out for a test run, then maybe we can go,” you said.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Tyler smiled often; it was an expression that you were so used to seeing on him at this point that you sometimes didn’t even notice it. But right now, as he looked up at you with his legs still under the truck, you thought that this was the biggest smile he’s ever worn in his entire life, and you couldn’t help but grin just as wide.

- the end -

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#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x gender neutral reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfiction #twisters fanfic

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dreamerschroniclesofstories · 10 months

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Goodbye, Tommy Shelby.

A/n: Hey guys, this is my first fic after finishing my previous series, if you haven’t read it then please do and leave a like or any opinions. It’s all appreciated!. Also, I recommend listening to ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine whilst reading since i listen to it whilst writing this x.

I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED ONTO A DIFFERENT SITE OR TO BE TRANSLATED.

Summary: Amelia has been in love with Tommy since she was 17.Today’s tommy's wedding day and Amelia can’t cope.

Word count: 1,575

Ada always told Amelia that there were “plenty of other fish in the sea” and she could do better than her brother, Tommy Shelby but Amelia had her doubts. The idea that there is someone else out there for her was ridiculous. If there were then why had she wasted twelve years of her life loving Tommy Shelby.

It’s to late now, Tommy was getting married and Amelia still felt like the seventeen year old in her room giggling about how Tommy smiled at her. The lead up to the wedding was the worst, every time someone spoke about how beautiful the wedding will be or how Tommy and Grace look more in love as the days pass would cause her heart to feel like, at any minute, it would crawl up her throat and jump onto the floor to be crushed by the passing carriages in the streets or even by the drunken’s getting thrown out of the garrison after closing time.

She knew she was being stupid, she was 29 and still pining over a man who clearly didn’t feel the same emotions she felt for him. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop loving him. The day before the wedding, Amelia decided she couldn't stay in Birmingham any longer. she would leave after the wedding, maybe go to London or even go to new York, she didn't care where, just a place that Tommy Shelby isn't.

Tommy's wedding day.

Amelia hadn't slept the night before, every-time she would try to sleep and close her eyes, all she could see if Tommy's' face, which in turn caused her to silently sob knowing she had lost the man she loved so dearly. She decided to write a letter to Tommy, to give him after the wedding. Confessing her love.

Four hours.

Four hours until Tommy gets married. Amelia was sat at her small kitchen table, holding her freshly brewed tea whilst Ada walks around talking about something that Amelia wasn't listening too. Amelia stared into the dark gloomy depths of her drink, slowly sinking into her sadness as the minutes pass. Ada had placed a plate full of bacon, eggs and sausage, stating that it would be a long day but Amelia couldn't get herself to eat anything, if she does she knew she would bring it back up anyway.

Ada stops her frantic movements when she realises that Amelia hadn't eaten or moved since she sat down “ it will be alright Mia” she whispers reassuringly. Using her nickname given to her by the Shelby family.

Amelia looks towards Ada, the corners of her mouth lifting ever so slightly “ yeah, hopefully” the brokenhearted woman murmured.

Two hours.

Two hours until Amelia leaves, everyone had arrived at Tommy's' house threes hours before the wedding, needing to help set up the rest of the decorations before the wedding had to start. Amelia had been at the house for nearly an hour and she hadn't said a word. Every-time Tommy goes to talk to her, she quickly leaves, pretending that she was going for a smoke break or going to find the toilet. She knew that if she spoke a word to Tommy, she would break down right there, in front of him and in front of the guests that were arriving.

Amelia was stood by the fountain outside of tommys house, holding a cigarette between her lips as she watched the water flowing into the small concrete pond that surrounds it. Amelia was wearing one of her nicest dresses, she had it kept in the back of her wardrobe for special occasions. The gorgeous deep blue garment was embroidered with sliver sequins, though the dress was formal, there was a merriment in its nature and beautiful folds, making it easy for one to run but also to waltz. Amelia knew it was the perfect dress to wear for when she runs off before anyone sees. She didn't want the dress to stop her.

Amelia was in a trance like state, staring at the water. She failed to notice Polly walking over to her. She knew Polly wasn't stupid, Amelia knew Polly knows about her feelings for Tommy. Amelia jumps slightly when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“ you'll catch a fever if you stay out here” the older woman warns.

“ i prefer to be here then in there” Amelia admits, taking a puff of her cigarette then slowly blows out the smoke “ its very overwhelming with everyone rushing around” she quickly covers herself.

Polly lights her own cigarette and raises an eyebrow at Amelia “ if it was my choice, i would want Tommy to marry you instead of grace” she confessed.

Amelia sighs, her eyes glossing as the tears in her soul become tears in her eyes “ it wasn't meant to be pol” she whispers, her voice quivering. She takes a deep breath as she glances at Polly, the waterline of her eyes threatening to spill out, she knew she had to tell Polly she was leaving, since Polly had treated her like a daughter since the day Ada brought her over for tea for the first time.

“ whats on your mind?” the older woman quizzed, holding her cigarette between her fingers, her dark eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Amelia chuckles and shakes her head, around Polly you can't keep a secret because she'll know automatically “ i'm leaving pol, after the wedding”

it's time

Its time for Amelia to watch as her life collapses, its time she had to sit in the crowd and pretend her heart wasn't shattering into a million pieces as if her heart was made of glass. She was sat in the second to front row with Polly, Ada, Ada's son and Michael.

The wedding had started half an hour ago and for that thirty minutes her tears came freely, like an overflowed storm drain. Luckily, the people around here wouldn't think differently then her being happy for the couple. However, Polly and Ada knew differently.

As the priest announces the newly wed husband and wife, the Shelby brothers and graces family surround the couple. Amelia knew this was the time she had to leave, she looks around to make sure no one was watching, once she knew it was safe she turns around and walks towards the double doors leading to the corridor. She turns her head and glumly smiles, seeing the smile on Tommy's face. She was happy for him, he deserved to be happy.

As Amelia walks outside, the air hits her face, the tip of her nose immediately turning red. Amelia wraps her arms around herself as she begins to rush towards the carriage that was awaiting her with her bags. Her fingers ached in the bitter winter wind, as she clenched and unclenched them trying to keeping an feelings in the tips. As she climbs into the carriage, she looks out through the window noticing Ada and Polly outside watching her, she waves slowly as the carriage leaves.

Once the carriage disappeared, Polly stomps out her cigarette then turns around, walking back into the house, on a mission to find Tommy. Once, Polly found him, she wraps her hand around his wrist “ Thomas come with me” she whispers, taking him to his office.

Tommy's office.

Polly closes the door as Tommy walks over to his desk whilst putting a cigarette between his lips “ what is it pol, ey?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Polly walks over to his desk, picking up the envelope from the oak desk “ Amelia has left, this is for you” Polly explains, walking back over to the door “ you are stupid Thomas, if you didn't see it” Polly utters, leaving Tommy's office quietly, leaving Tommy alone.

Tommy sits down at his desk, immediately opening the letter, leaning back in his seat as he begins to read the handwritten letter.

Dear Tommy,

As i sit here, the night before you get married to someone who is not me, My heart is breaking because i love you Tommy. I love you with every fibre, every cell, every pore of my whole body. I love you, every good part and every bad part of you. It's been such an amazing journey since we first met, but our journey has come to an end. I hope you and grace get the life you are hoping for. How can i put into words something I've never experienced before until recently. i'm dead Tommy, yet very much still alive. You have allowed me to see the power of love, from point A to point Z. I want you to be happy Tommy, have someone experiencing that smile you keep locked away. I don't regret anything that I've felt for you. However, There is one thing i wish you could have seen, it's the things i did for love. For you. Letting you go is forever the hardest thing i'll do in my life but i want you to know you are the most amazing person, the only person i'll truly love with my whole heart.

I know you don't love me, i'm sorry i fell in love with you. i'm sorry i had to leave on the happiest day of your life. You deserve more. i'll hold these last twelve years so damn tight in my heart. I just hope you will too.

Goodbye, Thomas Shelby.

A/N: Well that was an emotional journey wasn't it? i hope you enjoyed this fic. Leave a like, comment , re-blog. Its all appreciated so much xx

#peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders masterlist #peaky blinders fandom #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fic

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gleefullypolin · 3 months

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Stacy's Tipsy Musing's – Penelope Bridgerton Hot Takes - Part 1

Ok boys and girls, we need to have a little chat about Penelope Bridgerton.

Part 2 has been out now for a couple of days and there have been a lot of hot takes to come out of the season. A LOT of hot takes. I’m going to break this down into 4 parts like I did for Colin ((Part 1, 2, 3, 4, Bonus). 4 questions that I'm seeing really bad hot takes about Penelope.

Not surprising I see lots of hot takes about Pen, because either A) people cannot handle a woman complex emotions and facets, B) hate on a woman who does not fit societal norms and standards or C) are stans who refuse to see that all characters have imperfections which make them even more delicious to watch.

So let’s get to question number one:

Why didn’t Pen leave Colin after the entrapment comment or express more anger toward him, she seemed to give up?

Let’s start with where the idea of entrapment lives within Pen. In Season 1 she worked really hard to stop Marina and her mother’s plan to entrap Colin into marriage by deceiving him into compromising her so that he would marry her quickly while she was pregnant with another man’s child. She used Lady Whistledown to stop this from happening when Colin did not heed her warnings about Marina being in love with another man.

Move on to Season 3 and her mother finds out that she is now engaged to Colin and her very first thought is that Pen must have entrapped Colin herself to get him to marry her. Colin puts a stop to this notion with her mother of course, but the comment was there.

“And now you’ve been out at all hours of the night with no chaperone. And then you traipse in this morning with news of an engagement to the very same Bridgerton Boy! Using Lord knows what wiles to entrap him.” – Portia

Now when Colin finds out about Lady Whistledown, if you read my musing earlier, he reacted angrily and lashes out to hurt Pen with his own entrapment comment. And while it stings, I can tell you Pen does not react the way that so many fics that are being written today have her reacting.

“Perhaps that was another part of your planned entrapment.” - Colin

“I did not mean to entrap you, Colin. I love you.” - Penelope

So let’s discuss.

Pen did not tell Colin about LW herself (we will discuss this in part 2) so he found out on his own. At this point, he is still reconciling with her lie. And at this point it has been a lie. Up until the point she had simply been keeping this a secret, but when he asked her directly about the ink on her fingers when he gave her the engagement ring, she lied. She was writing letters. Again, this post isn’t going to go into that, tune in for part 2 for that piece. But anyway, he’s reeling from the lies he realizes she has now told. And Pen knows she hurt him.

Pen knows she has made mistakes. And at this point, she does not feel that she deserves Colin. She even says so when she speaks to Gen the night before her wedding. So we know that she knows what entrapment means. She knows what her mother accused her of, she knows what Marina did, but she KNOWS she did not entrap Colin.

If anyone entrapped anyone in marriage, Colin entrapped Pen. He ruined her engagement to a Lord in front of the Queen and the ton. He chased her carriage in front of others, he was alone with her, he was inappropriate with her in that carriage. He then proposed, he has taken her alone to their home, compromised her, and if he ended this engagement would ruin her, especially now knowing she was pregnant after their first time. So, let’s get that out of the way.

Pen knows she did not entrap Colin; however, she also does not feel deserving of him. She knows she lied to him. But all she knows she can do in this moment is to remind him that she loves him. That she did this to protect him, because she loves him. Pen does not fight him. She simply wants to know what he intends to do. She cannot bear his silence.

I honestly feel like at this point, it is more torture for her that he is NOT yelling at her, that he has not released his anger at her. I think she wants him to yell at her, she wants him to engage, she wants him to tell her that she is not worthy of him. Because then she would know the truth. It’s his holding to being a good man, to his honor, to marrying her because they were intimate that seems to rattle her more. Because that is NOT love. She wants more than anything for Colin to love her, she does NOT want him to be trapped by the fact he had sex with her.

And that is why she offers him the annulment even after EVERYTHING is said and done. Even after they are married, after he has told her he loves her still, after she has given up her identity, given reprieve from the Queen, laid herself bare to society, even after all of that, her biggest concern is to him. She still does not want him to feel trapped by her. She still offers him grace, and a way to release himself from her if he chooses. She is not angry; she smiles as she says it. Because she loves him.

At the bottom of everything, she wants to do better. She told her mother the same. Their family needed to do better. She would not allow her mother’s schemes; their past ways of entrapping men like they had tried with Marina. So, at the end of it, Pen did not give up when Colin spoke those words to her originally, she did not shrink back in anger or attack, instead she listened, she responded with regret, she reiterated her love and in the end she released him because she loved him. And she was rewarded with unconditional requited love in return.

Stick around for part 2....

Why didn’t Pen tell Colin about Lady Whistledown after X? (Their first time, during the engagement party, when he gave her the engagement ring, after El met with her and she decided to write the column to protect the Bridgerton’s)

#penelope bridgerton #stacy's tipsy musings #bridgerton spoilers #hot takes #polin #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton #strong women are complicated

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lolqiqi · 4 months

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GN! Reader x YANDERE! King of hearts

Warnings:Implied kidnapping.Implied death(unmajor).The usual for yans(obviously). Possible use of y/n!/you.I (tried) to make this based of the queen of hearts buttt male.

Authors note:I finally got inspo back. I'll probably redo the yan god later this week (hopefully) because it was ✨rushed✨. This is more like a ramble, I'll probably edit the yan god to be more of a ramble as well.

You were just trying the town's humble baker, sure most of the town's folk said you were to pretty to be just that baker in town, but you didn't think much of it.

You were just baking at your usual shift at your family's bakery, when out of nowhere one of the king's servants walked in. They were accompanied by one or two guards and had a worried look, no terrified look on their face.

💌:Excuse me, the king demands a cake, and if you will make it themed after roses.Don't make it too basic either, me or you both wouldn't want to see your chopped off

After to hearing this you immediately go to work, it was harder then usual since your parents had to go get ingredients out of town.It took you about 4 hours to finish the cake, it hopefully not being to basic. Right on time too, because the servant just walked in.

💌:Is the cake finished? *You nod your head* Thank goodness! You don't how much of a help this will be!

He snapps his fingers and a few guards come take the cake

💌:While I must thank you for your hard work, the King must taste the cake first before he decides to save it for later. And if my King doesn't like it, you mostly likely will get you head chopped off

He walks off, before you could possibly ask him anything. He never told you you could get your damn head cut off! But about tenish so minutes later you hear yelling

👑:'WHO MADE THIS?! I need you of you pathetic excuses of guards to bring the baker who made this to me now! Or I'll have ALL OF YOUR HEADS CUT OFF!'

He was loud enough so you could hear it from down the street. You panicked thinking that the king hated your cake and you'll be executed. Before you could move however, the king's guards came into the front door of your bakery and took you away.

The king looked..more harmless then you thought, for someone who never saw him before. He tilted his head when he saw you, eyes narrowing.

👑:You absolute buffoons! I told you to bring me the baker, not some noble! OFF WITH YOUR-

You interrupt him

'Your highness, I am the baker. Please don't kill them, I took over for my parents today.'

👑:I..I..my apologies. You don't look like a baker, you like a noble to me. EHM..Anyways before my knights interrupted me, I found your cake delightful, delishous even. My bakers I have at my castle or useless compared too you, so chop chop pack your things. You're coming with me, you've now been assigned to be my baker, no if's and's or but's pack your things and let's go rose.

You are in disbelief and quickly try and tell him that your parents will be worried when they come back. You explain how you'd have to take over the business one-day as well.

👑:Don't defy your king. I'll take care of those old mutts. Might as well make a show of it as well, it'd be the most perfect execution for rose's parnets. Besides why would you need that old shop of yours if you have me..rose? Now.. I'd rather not lose my temper so let's go I have duties with other kingdoms to attend too.

With a snap his guards drag you along into a extra carriage he brought, with a few others bringing what appears to be your things in the trunk. You hear a horse whine and your carriage starts moving.

There's no escape for now after all..who'd want to deny the lovey king of hearts?

Extra notes:I kinda want to design him as a Tsundere type yan that turns into *big* simp for you when you get to know him.

(Anyways thanks for reading! Consider liking if you enjoyed)

#yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x male reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere king #yandere

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kissagii · 1 year

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stardance - prince!sae x knight!reader

a fic for a trade with the lovely @saenora <33

cw: 2.5k words, gn!reader, hurt comfort, sae is pretty rude (to reader), mild descriptions of violence, there's a failed assassination but no blood or serious injury

When the palace walls and king’s carriages proved at last too confining for the eldest prince of the Itoshi family, Sae was assigned a knight of his own. A soldier to fend off the creatures of the forests; to discourage burglars with a glare and blade; to guard a door in a palace so thoroughly guarded that at times even visitors struggled to enter. In his mind, his guard was an excessive layer of protection for an already coddled son, another attempt to shelter him from the kingdom he would one day come to rule.

But mostly, his guard was a nuisance.

“With all due respect, your highness, just how long do you plan to look through these historical tomes that - if I may remind you - your father’s library already has.”

At the mere sound of your voice, he stopped flipping through the large volume in front of him. It wasn’t the one he wanted anyways, and neither were the twenty others the bookshop owner had presented him with. An honor to help the prince with his studies? Hah. If only the fools had what I needed. With a frustrated sigh, he motioned to leave in search of yet another shop.

“I’ll look until one of these shops has what I need.” He hardly looked back as he began making his way to the next bookstore. Technically, he was supposed to let you walk in front, parting the crowds around their crown, but in the near-empty twilight streets, he set a pace brisk enough to discourage anyone wishing to follow him, his guard included. For a moment, as the stars began to rise, he could forget.

Though peace of mind could never never last long. “Your Highness, it’s too late for you to be out. You know as well as I do that your father doesn’t like you being out in the city late, especially not on some wild goose chase for a history book that might not even exist.”

Sae knew that he should be returning to the palace. But in those grand halls, he couldn’t forget, not even for a moment. It was always someone or someone else pestering about something he couldn’t bring himself to care about. Courtship. Parties. Foreign gossip. Meaningless awards. Petty disputes between lords. His brother. His blasted annoying guard.

“Really, your highness, what even is it that you’re looking for?” You continued, beginning to get impatient. “Primary sources from the Cretaceous period? Because, I hate to break it to you, but crabs can’t write.”

Against his better judgment, Sae nearly chuckled at that remark. Nearly.

At this point, you didn’t know if Sae genuinely hated you or if his tendency towards bitter words was an overdramatized facade. Though whichever it was, it was slowly slipping further toward loathing as you urged him out of the library. It was a war of his stubbornness against your orders, and though the king’s own word should always win, it never seemed to.

Worn down by tiredness and the convoluted organization of his father’s library, Sae snapped. Once more you tried to convince him to leave and he turned sharply to face you, eyes darkened. Whatever curious stars had once been behind them had died out, leaving only the aquamarine void.

“Just leave me.”

So this is how he’s playing this. You pulled out his chair, a not-so-subtle sign that it was time to leave, regardless of what he thought. “Your Highness, I’m strictly forbidden from leaving you. I’ll escort you to your room now.”

“I’ll get to my room on my own,” He muttered, waving you off, “One of the sentries can take me if they see me.”

“Sae. You’ve had a long night, it’s time for you to sleep. You can find your books on a clear head in the morning.” There was a certain firmness in your voice this time - you weren’t about to let him ignore you, regardless of the fact that he was above you in rank and had no obligation to listen to you.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, your name? I don’t answer to you, I’ll call you whatever I like.”

“I outrank you, remember. I don’t care if my father ordered you to make me rest, you answer to me, not him.” He refused to turn to you, gripping white-knuckled on the arms of his chair. If he squeezed them any harder, they might break. A normal soldier would stop provoking him now - you should stop provoking him now - but there was no point in shoving the frustration down any further. Sae was insolent, stubborn, lived on his own time, and wouldn’t take care of himself. But you would protect him. You swore so on your life and honor.

“They’re not his orders.”

“Then whose are they?” He seethed, turning to look you in the eyes. Though he couldn’t see your face in the dim light, Sae was sure you were grinning smugly, taking some sick satisfaction in watching him snap.

“Mine.” You stated plainly.

“Blasted nuisance,” Sae huffed, “You have no authority to give yourself orders. Leave.”

Suddenly he found himself being pulled by the arm, yanked up and out of his chair by a uniformed hand. Electricity prickled down his spine as he was forced to his feet. “I have plenty of authority to care about you and want you to take care of yourself because I know you wouldn’t otherwise. With that said, I will be escorting you to your room.”

Without sparing even a moment, you began pulling Sae toward the door. Your grip was far from rough - he could escape easily if he felt like it - but he saw no reason to struggle. He had hardly noticed the fatigue seeping into his body, sapping his strength as the night grew late.

Sae’s knight was an inevitability. A constant. Guaranteed to be somewhere in the vicinity, be it hovering at his shoulder or stationed at a doorway just out of sight. Even as he reclined in his barely lit sitting room, there was no mistaking the uniformed figure lurking in the shadows near the tightly bolted door.

“Aren’t I safe enough in here? You can leave,” He waved you off halfheartedly, “Get some of that sleep you’ve been hounding me incessantly about.”

Your laugh floated over from the dark corner. At least someone had the energy for humor at this hour. “Believe me, if I weren’t under direct orders to stay here until Kento comes to replace me, I’d be comfortably cuddled up in my bed. Like you should be right now.”

With a sigh, Sae stood from his reading chair and made his way to his bed. He was hardly tired, but pretending to sleep would at least give you peace of mind. The last thing he needed was yet another person overly concerned about his safety, especially not one who was only concerned because it was their job.

Or was it?

I have plenty of authority to care about you.

Your words echoed in his mind. That hadn’t been on his father’s orders – none of the insistence that Sae cared for himself had been. It was, startlingly, the first time that concern for his safety had extended past duels and burglars and-

“ASSASSIN!!!”

Sae turned his head sharply, watching as a badly illuminated figure entered his room from the moonlit balcony, empty glass bottle in hand. His heart stopped in his chest. His feet wouldn’t move. He urged himself to run, to make his way to safety, to make his way toward you. The most he could do was turn and watch you as you charged.

The assassin stepped up behind him. The bottle came crashing down.

The last thing he registered was you running toward him, sword drawn, radiant like starlight incarnate.

“Good morning, your highness. How’d you sleep?”

Of course, the first thing Sae would hear after coming to consciousness would be his knight’s voice. Classic.

“What… what happened?” At some point, he’d been moved from the floor to his bed, and the lack of light from outdoors meant it was still night. The only people in the room, as far as he could tell, were him and the knight.

The knight chuckled. Someone ought to teach them that assassination is not a laughing matter.

“Well, some fool managed to climb up your balcony and hit you over the head with an empty liquor bottle. He got you pretty good, but at least you didn’t get cut by the glass shards. The doc said you’ll be fine in a day or two.” Somewhere across the room, your uniform rustled as you stood to leave, satisfied to know that Sae was alright. “Well, I’ll be going now. Kento, Miroku, and Tatsuki are outside if you need anything, but I’ll hopefully be back before you wake up. Get some sleep, you’ll need it.”

As Sae watched you retreat, he felt the sudden urge to reach out toward you; to thank you for saving his life yet again; to savor your company just a little longer. All that escaped his lips was a croaked, “Don’t-”

“Huh?” You turned, “Don’t what? You’ve gotta be specific if you’re giving me orders.”

Struggling for words, Sae sputtered, not entirely sure what he wanted. Don’t hate me? Don’t abandon me? Don’t resign from your post and never return? “Leave.”

You sighed, turning back again. “Being evasive, I see. Good to know you’re back to normal. Goodnight, your highness.”

“Wait- No- Don’t leave. Stay. Please.” Sae didn’t realize, but he was reaching toward you with his hand as if trying to pull you back toward him. But of course, you were across the room, and his fingers couldn’t find purchase.

“Your Highness, you’ll be perfectly safe, I promise. There are two guards outside and one on the balcony… I can tell Kento to come inside if that would make you feel safer.” It pained Sae how you didn’t look him in the eyes as you spoke – you hardly turned to face him. But that was about the treatment he deserved, considering how he had treated you, pushing you away and still expecting you to save his life.

“It’s not- Stay, Y/n, please. I- It’s nice. Having you around.” He begged, voice breaking. He cursed himself for sounding so foolish, so unnecessarily vulnerable. You were his guard, nothing more.

Oh, how he wished it was more.

“Oh. I guess… I guess I could stay,” You murmur, striding back toward him, “For what it’s worth, you’re not half-bad of a guy to guard. Following you around all day is pretty fun… even when you’re mad at me.”

Sae groaned, wanting nothing more than to hide under his bedsheets. Half the time when he snapped at you it was just to provoke a clever quip or witty insult from you who never seemed to care, and the other half the time, when he stepped too far, his stubbornness left the apologies aching in his chest.

“I’m not mad. Not usually,” He muttered, not entirely sure if you could hear or not. Sae assumed not, from the way you settled into one of his sitting chairs, leaning your sword belt against the arm.

No, don’t sit there- The words were on the tip of his tongue, but you spoke first.

“I’ll sit here as long as you want, but you should get to sleep. Let me know if you need anything, alright? I’ll do my best to not doze off.”

“There is one thing,” Sae said, internally shuddering at how foolish his request seemed. But it was you, and you wouldn’t make fun of it… right?

You chuckled. “Spit it out before I fall asleep. This chair is ridiculously comfortable.”

“Come sleep with me. Propriety be damned.”

You looked at him incredulously, not believing the words that exited his mouth. A sentence you had long given up on hearing. But the response that forms bypasses that yearning entirely.

“Aww, does His Royal Grumpiness get cuddly when he’s concussed?”

He sighed and scowled – though the snarky reply made his heart skip a beat. “Shut it, Y/n. I’m serious. I’d like to be close to you.”

“As you wish, Sae,” You smiled, taking off your uniform coat and discarding it on the same chair that your sword leaned against. Sae watched you intensely as you removed your shoes and climbed into the soft, powder blue sheets. He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, drinking in the warmth of your skin.

If only for a night, you could be his. You were his. And he was yours. By the witness of the stars. His troubled soul was held in the comfort of another, melting into the tenderness of an embrace outside of the reach of prying eyes. For the first time in far too long, the tension left the prince’s muscles, eased out by the soft breathing of his knight, his friend, his beloved.

In the silent depths of night, sweet words were whispered in dulcet tones.

“I love you.”

Bonus: Two Weeks Later

Exactly two weeks after the ridiculous attempt on Prince Sae’s life, Aiku – Captain of the King’s Guard and your somewhat-direct superior – summoned you into his office.

Not pleased to be away from your job for too long, you intended to make this quick.

“Let me guess, you need help training new recruits? Because if that’s what you want, I can’t do it. I’m with Sae full time now,” You said, standing in the doorway. Aiku looked at you from where he leaned against his desk, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Familiar with His Royal Highness, are you?” The Captain asked, smirking, “Well, therein lies the problem.”

You furrowed your brow, not entirely understanding what he meant. “And how is that an issue? You’re plenty familiar with His Majesty the King, why should I not be the same with the man I guard?”

“It’s not quite the same. Rumors are spreading, you know, and if things continue like this then you might be reassigned.”

“Really? Why? I keep Sae perfectly safe, no?” Captain Aiku stepped toward you, straightened posture making him seem unnervingly tall. He lowered his voice, as if worried someone would overhear. “Listen, Y/n. Let me put it this way: If the king catches you and his son making bedroom eyes at each other one more time he will replace you. The rest of us on the guard don’t exactly appreciate it either.”

Suddenly a gentle wrapped around your waist, the newcomer’s chest pressed comfortingly against your back. You didn’t have to turn around to know that Sae had come to intervene, tugging you gently away from the Captain.

“Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but I will look at my knight however I please. If my father chooses to reassign Y/n, I will deal with him myself.”

i'm such a sucker for royalty au

#imagine ⋆｡°✩#sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #sae x gn!reader #sae x gender neutral reader #blue lock x gn!reader #blue lock x gender neutral reader

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