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#i was about to put wing instead of wind T^T
xynczachrome · 10 months
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Elemental of Wind
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b00kdiary · 8 months
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Stay With Me | Rhysand (II)
Rhysand x Plus size reader
Y/N gets hurt during a mission- and Rhysand is more than willing to be the one to take care of her.
Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, blood and gore, and smut.
MASTERLIST - 1 and 2
PART ONE
PART THREE
"Cassian, for Cauldron's sake," I scowl, my hands weakly slapping against his broad, solid chest for the fifth time. "Will you put me down? I can walk-"
"Y/N, you have a dagger embedded to the hilt in your fucking thigh," Cassian grimaced, cocking his head down at me, his hazel eyes flaring as he glances down at my wounded leg, his strong arms holding me to his chest so carefully. "You won't be able to stand, never mind walk."
I grumble irate, looking away and dropping my hands back onto my lap with a pout. I hear Azriel chuckle softly, his tall figure following closely behind us as Cassian carries me through the House of Wind.
"Where- where's Rhys?" I ask, my head peeking over Cassian's shoulder, trying to see through the gaps in his powerful wings- looking for those stary eyes and a breathtaking smile. I wince when a sharp pain shoots up my leg, even if my mind is preoccupied with the fact Rhys is nowhere to be found.
"Now you want to know about Rhys," Cassian mutters under his breath and the passive-aggressive tone catches me off guard. I lift my eyes to his hard face, but he doesn't meet my gaze, his jaw locked and eyes staring straight ahead.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I demand, my eyes narrowing but Cassian doesn't reply, he doesn't even react. Instead, he stalks into the lounge, his grip tightening around my body as the fire blazes to life.
"Rhys is dealing with the remaining Hybern soldiers," Azriel clears his throat, coming to stand beside us, his eyes flickering over Cassian's face contemplatively. "He said he would be back as soon as he was done."
Dealing with Hybern, he didn't need to explain what that meant.
"Madja's on her way now," Cassian states and he doesn't give me a second to speak before he marches over to the plush, large green sofa situated directly in front of the fireplace, his movements stiff as he lays me flat against the cushions.
"Cassian, wait-" I frown, groaning as I grab on his arm as it slips out from under me, stopping him from pulling away. "What's wrong with you? You're being-"
"An asshole," He finishes, and upon seeing the hurt in my eyes and then the wound steadily leaking blood over the sofa, he sighs, his handsome face melting into a dejected frown. "I'm acting like an absolute asshole, I know I'm- I'm sorry."
"It's alright, I'm just surprised," I swallow, and relief fills me when his eyes soften, when the Cassian I know and love seems to reappear as he settles on his knees beside me, his large hands cupping mine gently. "I've never been on the receiving end of your anger, Cass."
"I'm not angry, just frustrated," He admits and when I raise a sharp brow at him, he shrugs, "You've been avoiding Rhysand for weeks, Y/N and I don't like seeing the two of you so at odds."
My eyes widen in surprise at his words, and I feel the scrutinising stares of Cassian and Azriel before me, their eyes tracing over every reaction and breath I make.
"I haven't been avoiding him," I swallow, gritting my teeth as Azriel slides a pillow under my right thigh, elevating the injured leg, "I've been busy-"
"Bullshit," Cassian scoffs, and I narrow my eyes at him when his grip on my hand tightens forcing my gaze to his again, "You've been avoiding him and we all know it, Rhys most of all."
"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about," I breathe roughly, and both the males before me share a disbelieving glance between them, one that makes me scowl. "Seriously, I don't- Madja, you're here!"
Relief, pure relief at the sight of the dark-skinned female, her spindrift hair in disarray and her brown eyes narrowing in disapproval at the dagger's hilt poking out of my thigh as she strode into the lounge.
"Thank you to whoever elevated her leg, you've made this easier for us both," Madja greets and Azriel nods unconsciously at her praise. "Let's see what the damage is."
Cassian's knowing eyes don't relent upon me but as Madja crouches on the floor, he rises, sighing as he lets go of my hand, letting it fall between us. I gnaw on my lip at the silence, but I manage a strained smile at the healer before me.
"Thank you for coming so quickly, Madja," I focus on my breathing as her delicate hands press around the entry point of my injury, her fingertips turning stark red immediately.
"You have a hunting dagger in your thigh, Y/N," Madja raises a pointed brow at me, and when I whimper, my jaw locking tight at the tender pain, her face melts into a frown. "I'm going to have to pull this out inch by inch and thread the skin together as I go."
"I hate Hybern soldiers," I mutter dismally, my head lolling back against the pillow and my eyes meeting the worn ceiling, counting the cracks one by one to calm the panic clawing at me. "Do it, do whatever you need to Madja."
I feel their eyes on me, all of them, but when I curl both my hands into steeled fists when I grit my teeth and clamp my eyes shut, I feel Madja sigh- and her hands come to that dagger.
I wish Rhysand was here.
That's the first thought I have, I'm not sure why. I picture his violet gaze and lazy smile and the sound of his laugh, warm and wonderful and somehow, I feel better.
Though it doesn't last long.
"What the fuck were you thinking?!"
A swarm of dark, furious power hits me, hits everyone in the room at the same time that violent, death-incarnate voice bellows out the words. I startle, my body jolting and my eyes snapping back open and moving to the entryway.
Rhysand- covered in blood.
Staining his hands and arms and torso and chest, as if he had ripped apart the males with his bare hands. Splattered across his neck and jaw and cheeks, as if he had been ferocious and merciless with his assault.
And the smell, it wasn't one soldier or two, no, it was dozens and dozens of them. All their scents, all their blood and gore and their fear spread over Rhysand like a second skin and all I could think was that he hadn't stopped.
He hadn't spoken or breathed or thought- he had just killed and killed and killed.
"What the fuck were you thinking, Y/N?!" Rhysand demanded again, his eyes as dark as midnight, his voice as terrifying as I had ever heard it as he glared at me, his chest rising and falling so fast.
"Rhys-" Cassian warns from behind me, but Rhysand can't hear him, I don't think he can hear anything over the roaring anger in his head. I see it in the way he marches forward, see it in every hard and brutal inch of his muscled and lean form the closer he gets.
"You got in the way, that soldier was coming for me-" He seethed, stopping at the back of the sofa, and my eyes blinked heavily as he clamped down two large, ringed hands onto the material, nails cutting into the material to calm his fury. "What the fuck were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that I didn't feel like dealing with your whining when he stabbed you," I grit out, my voice as cold as ice, as cold as Rhysand's as I glared up at him, the anger distracting me from the burning erupting through my leg. "Forgive me for saving you, Rhysand, next time-"
"Next time?" He laughs, a cruel, awful sound and I fought through the fatigue, forcing myself to watch his midnight eyes narrow, to see his lip curl back to reveal his sharp canines as he towered above me. "If you think you're joining us on another mission again darling, then you're not as smart as you like to think you are."
"Rhys now really isn't the time-" Azriel stepped forward, his shadows dancing wildly over his shoulders, the tension and raging emotion in the room making them more chaotic. Rhysand doesn't look at Azriel, he doesn't look at anyone but at me- intense, consuming, powerful.
And I can't look away from him.
"Oh, bite me Rhysand," I snarl, my own canines flashing as I tilt my head up to his, my hair sticking to the sweat on my forehead, my heart hammering in my chest, and my whole body sore from the aftermath of the fight- but still I snarl at him.
"If the two of you are done quarrelling," Madja sighs, drawing us away from our heated argument and it's her words that remind me why we're here- reminds me of the agonising, throbbing pain now lancing through my leg. "I need quiet and calm so I can focus please."
"I'm sorry that you're being burdened on your day off with this, Madja," Rhysand breathes, and despite his voice quietening, every word was sharp and low, full of contempt. I grit my teeth painfully as Madja inches the dagger out of my thigh, so fucking slowly.
"Rhysand," I hiss, the cut of the razor-fine blade as it's eased out, accompanied by the burning light of Madja's magic making bile rise in my throat, "Shut up."
She drags it up another inch and I bite down on my cheek, metal and bitterness filling my mouth, coating my tongue, invading my senses, but it doesn't distract me from the pain.
"Now who's whining?" Rhysand taunted darkly, and I felt the feel of his shadows and starlight dancing around me, over me, laden with anger and frustration. I couldn't open my eyes, couldn't look at him, or speak to him.
Not as Madja dragged out the blade another inch.
"Rhysand-" I warned, my throat as rough as glass now, my hands clenching at either side, so hard my nails cut into my palms, carving crescent moons.
There was a lot of blood, gallons of it, and Madja's hands pressed down firmer, her strength astounding as she tried to staunch the blood flow, working her magic over my severed skin.
"C'mon darling," Rhysand purred, and I blinked my heavy eyelids open to see his violet gaze, dark and cruel and mocking, the beast in him rearing its head as he watched me. My eyes were like steel, and I let every atom of loathing I had for him at this moment show.
It was almost menacing, the look in his eyes, the blood covering his skin, the arrogance in his words.
"Fuck you-"
The words die on my tongue, they turn to ash in my lungs and all my anger vanishes, replaced by one thing- unbelievable pain. Madja pulls the blade free, and I feel it like a shock current through my entire being, so strong I gasp out desperately.
And Rhysand's whole demeanour flips, like a switch.
The anger? Gone. The frustration? Gone. The shadows and violence that had sullied his eyes? Gone.
All gone- replaced by something... scared? Yes, he was scared. He heard that desperate sound rip from my lips, smelt the blood oozing from me in waves, saw my face tighten with unfathomable pain and he was scared.
I saw it in the way his face dropped, paled, that arrogant smile vanishing instantly, a deep frown carving in its place. A worry so strong it creased his brow, sharpened his handsome face, and made his broad form turn unnaturally still.
"Rhys," I choke out his name, and it's that one word on my lips, that one name, his name, that has him moving in an instant. One second, he's towering over me from behind the sofa's back and then the next, he's knelt by my side, his face inches from mine.
"Shit, Y/N," Rhysand sighed, and I saw the hurt in his eyes as he flickered his gaze over me, tracing over every inch of my face, seeing my visceral reaction to everything Madja was doing. "Shit, I'm sorry."
"That's better," I laugh hoarsely, my eyes welling with heavy tears as I glance at Rhys, trying to focus on the night-blooming jasmine and ocean breeze scent of his skin, under all the grime and blood. "I hate when you use your High Lord's voice on me."
"Me too, darling," He manages a strained smile and I sigh when his hand comes to my face, brushing away my damp hair before moving to cup my cheek, his thumb smoothing over the tears slowly leaking.
"Nearly done," Madja mutters and Rhys glances to the side, his nose flaring at the sight of my blood soaking the cushions, his eyes predatory as he sees Madja's magic close the wound bit by bit. "There was some kind of poison coating the blade, it's resisting my magic, that's why it's taking so long."
"And why it's hurting so much?" I muse, blinking away my tears as I look at the healer, and her grim nod tells me all I need to know. "I really fucking hate Hybern soldiers."
Rhysand laughed, I felt the brush of his warm breath, minty with a hint of bourbon infiltrate my senses and when my eyes met his again, I let myself sink into the stars and constellations, let myself bathe in the feel of him.
"This is the longest you've looked me in the eyes in weeks," Rhysand mutters, and despite the teasing in his words, his eyes held a different story- a sadder one.
"Almost forgot how beautiful you were." He whispered through my mind, and I heard the yearning in every single word as it echoed through me.
"Always such a flirt," I say back, and the room is near-silent as we stare at each other, Rhysand's lip tilting at the corner as he watches me, "I'm sorry, Rhys-"
"Don't" His lips purse, his hand cupping my cheek firmer, forcing my eyes to him, to see the sincerity on his face, "Don't worry about that now."
I managed a small nod, smiling softly at him but the conversation, the conflict hung heavy in the air between us still. I had been avoiding him, like the plague, since that night in the cabin, since we did what we did.
"The poison's slowing down the healing process, I've done what I can for now," Madja says, but her voice sounds further away and it's only then I realise my eyes are fluttering closed, that my body is starting to melt into oblivion. "She needs rest."
I vaguely hear the sound of their low voices as they speak, but as the darkness starts to creep over me, all I can feel is Rhysand's thumb brushing my cheek, his touch unbearably soft and endearing, as if lulling me to sleep.
"Stay with me, Rhys."
A star-flecked hand runs across the expanse of my mind, adoringly, and I feel the distinct feel of his lips at my temple, lingering and firm, pressing a sweet kiss there before pulling away.
"Always, darling."
***
I sense him before I even open my eyes.
He’s erected a shield around me, I feel it ripple in response to every rise and fall of breath in my lungs, a shield of shadows and starlight, a shield of his very essence made to protect me while I slept.
I think it might have been healing me too- fighting whatever vile magic Hybern coated that dagger with, working to ease the pain that had been a forever presence burning through my thigh.
“You’re awake,” Rhysand’s voice greets me as I blink my eyes open, the room dim with Fae light and I smile faintly as the shield he made disappears, flickering out like stars around me. “How do you feel?”
A dull ache throbs through my head as I turn to the side, to where Rhysand sits on the edge of his chair- broad shoulders tense, arms braced on his powerful thighs and his beautiful face hard with worry.
Not a splatter of blood remained on him. Clean, regal, the Rhysand I knew.
“I’m-“ My voice splinters, dehydration making the air cut like glass through my lungs and as I screw my eyes shut, body wrecking with coughs, Rhysand’s immediately at my side. I winced as his large hand slipped under me, fingers curling around my waist to sit me up.
“Here, darling, drink,” His voice shook, but the command was still there, and I could do nothing but brace my weak hands against his corded chest, lips parting when he pressed a water bottle to my mouth, hands agonisingly soft as I slowly sipped from it.
A satisfied moan slipped from me as the cold water ran down my throat, and I felt Rhysand’s hand tighten around my body, fingers digging possessively into my flesh at the soft sound. I sighed as he pulled the bottle away, my weak body slumping back against the pillows behind me.
“Thank you,” I whispered and when my head lifted, meeting his violet gaze, my face softened at the concern in his face, the pain, hating every second of hurt I was in. “I’m alright, Rhys, just a bit weak, but I’m going to be alright.”
His throat bobs roughly and there’s a tense silence that seems to stretch on as he bows his head, his lean form sat on the edge of the bed beside me, his hands resting on either side of my hips- as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go, as if he needed to touch me to know I was really here.
I gnaw on my lip at the hurt twisting his lovely face, nothing of the arrogant and smirking High Lord I knew present. No, not at his darkening gaze stayed locked on my bandaged thigh, blood staining the fabric, nothing but the oversized linen shirt I wore covering me.
“I should have been paying attention,” He breathes, a ragged, awful sound and my eyes widen at the way his shoulder curves inwards as if he was physically carrying the burden of his guilt. “I should have torn that bastard to pieces the second I saw him near you.”
“Don’t Rhys, don’t do that, don’t blame yourself,” I plead sharply, my hand coming to his face, cupping his strong jaw, and lifting those starry eyes to me- hating that nothing shined in them, nothing but unshed tears. “I got in the way knowing what would happen, because I would rather it be me than you.”
“I should have protected you-“ He growls, teeth flashing, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Don’t be an overprotective asshole, Rhys, I’m as much of a warrior as you are,” I raise a brow and for a second amusement danced in his eyes, tilts his lip just barely. I soothe my thumb across his jaw, smiling softly, “We protect each other, that’s what we do.”
He chuckles, and fuck, if the sound doesn’t make something warm and full fill my heart.
“I love it when you get all angry with me, darling,” Rhysand pressed his cheek into my palm, a roguish grin stretching across his face and something darkened his gaze, something molten as he stared at me, “It’s very attractive.”
“Always such a flirt,” I tease, but the breath gets tighter in my throat as Rhysand inches closer to me, as if some magnet drew us together, an unstoppable force that made it so hard for the two of us to look away.
My tongue darts out, wetting my bottom lip and Rhysand’s eyes drop to my mouth, and he’s getting closer, so closer that I feel every atom in me tense in anticipation of his lips meeting mine.
“Shit-“
I jump, Rhysand sucking in a sharp breath, the both of us so surprised that we spring apart- eyes flashing to the medical basket that appeared on the bed beside us with a soft thud.
“It seems Madja is reminding me that you need to change your bandages,” Rhys grits out through clenched teeth, and I would laugh at the ire on his face as he grabs the basket- if I weren’t blushing so hard, I could feel my skin burning.
I draw my hands to my lap, fiddling aimlessly with my fingers as Rhysand pulls out the vials and binds his long, nimble fingers, gracefully laying out the objects on the bed beside him, handsome face pursed with concentration as looked over the items one by one.
I stayed silent as he shifted on the bed, tugging back the comforter from my body, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat as his eyes slid down my form, calloused hands moving so surely as stretched my leg over his lap, fingers tugging at my bloodied bandage.
“I can do that, you know,” I mutter, my back tensing at the feel of his fingers moving across the flesh of my thigh, his eyes unwavering on my bare leg as he unwrapped the bind. “You don’t have to-“
“I want to,” He said simply, eyes glancing up at me through dark lashes and I saw the gleam, knowing every touch, every caress made something blaze to life in me- seemed to enjoy having that kind of power.
“Besides, it’s my turn to take care of you now,” He muttered roughly, and his tone, the grumble that purred through his chest, told me that changing my bandages wasn’t all he meant. “Just relax for me, yeah?”
He cocks his head, waiting for me to answer- and all I can do is nod, sinking back into the pillows.
There’s a long silence as Rhysand discards the bloodied bandage on the floor beside us, and I winced at the jagged scar that traced the inner part of my thigh- red and angry, small unhealed sections of skin still leaking blood, the poison actively fighting Madja’s healing.
“I should have made his suffering last longer,” Rhys panted, such terrifying, cold violence in his voice, in his eyes as he stared at that wound, and the room seemed to vibrate with the strength of his raging power. “I should have torn him limb by fucking limb for doing this to you.”
“You made him regret it in the end,” I said gently, remembering that Hybern soldier before me one second and then ash on the wind the next. Rhys curled his fingers around my other thigh, fingers teasing the skin, so close to where I wanted him. “We’re here, he’s not.”
“Right as always, darling,” His throat works and he watches, I watch, as his hand traces up my thigh, over my cellulite and stretch marks and as he curves his way between my legs, I keen, thighs inching apart for him.
I gnaw on my lip in anticipation as his thumb swoops back and forth, callouses tickling my inner thigh, so close to my core I can feel him brushing my underwear. My stomach coils with need and I know Rhys can smell my arousal, thick and desperate and strong in the air.
His nose flares, and I feel his power rumbling from him as if the mere smell of me was enough to have him trembling.
Another brush of his thumb, so close yet so far and my back bows, my core clenching around nothing, the pain in my leg gone now, overwhelmed by the wetness that seems to grow and grow between my thighs.
“Rhys,” I gasped, almost whining as my chest rose and fell like tidal waves, and he glanced at me with eyes like melted chocolate and raised one dark brow in a challenge, “Stop being such a tease.”
“Or what?” He crooned mockingly, I gasped when his thumb inched forward, barely grazing over the front of my damp panties, the pressure so hollow that it was there and gone in seconds. “You’ll find someone else to take care of you?”
I tugged my shirt higher up my stomach, satisfaction filling me when Rhysand’s smirk fell, and like a hunter with prey his eyes narrowed down on my exposed underwear, the black lace barely covering my pulsing cunt.
“So? Should I call Cassian in?” I managed to grit out, enough arrogance in my tone to hide the lust clouding my voice and Rhysand went still, “Or are you going to- oh-“
It was stupid, to taunt the High Lord of the Night Court so brazenly- but I was so fucking glad that I had.
Because one second his thumb was taunting the edge of my underwear and then the next, he had hooked it under the material- and ripped it off.
“This what you want, huh?” Rhysand muses hotly, fingers slipping past my wet folds almost angrily, and I moaned as his callouses rubbed harshly at my clit. “Goading me into touching your cunt, using another male to piss me off?”
“Rhys,” I whimpered, back arching as he circled the pad of his thumb in brash circles, pressing down hard enough that I could feel every single callous, centuries of battle training, deliciously scraping me. “Don’t stop-“
Rhys groaned low in his throat, and I could feel his attention washing over me like waves, pure male satisfaction on his face when he turned his hand, stuffing two fingers into me without warning.
“Fuck, fuck, Rhys-“
“You should see how tight you’re wrapped around me right now, darling,” He growled low, and I could feel my walls suffocating his fingers as he fucked them in and out of me, not even my slopping wetness enough to ease how I clamped around him. “You think you can take another?”
Another finger prods at my entrance and all I can do is lock my ankle around Rhysand’s back, sinking myself further down his fingers as a third digit joins- and the burn, it hurts so fucking good.
Rhys leans forward and my shaking hand finds purchase on his shoulder, curling around the flexing muscles, feeling every stroke of his fingers in and out, getting faster and harder now. I can’t stop the sounds that tear from me, my eyes clamping shut as his fingers stretch me, brushing my walls in a way that makes it impossible to breathe.
“Rhys, I’m close, so close-“ I gasp, and that confession seems to be like a personal challenge for Rhys, edging him on as he curls those fingers deep inside of me, toying his thumb against my clit with every rough jolt.
“Open your eyes, Y/N,” Rhys commanded, voice like midnight- his High Lord's voice and I had no choice but to rip my eyes open, to meet his burning, wild gaze, loving and hating the pleased grin he gave me. “Wanna watch your pretty eyes roll while you come around my fingers.”
I was shaking now, sweat coating my forehead and it took everything in me to not flutter my eyes closed, took everything in me to stare into his violet gaze and let his hand fuck brutally inside me- let him watch me.
He loved watching me, I saw it in his eyes, in his smile, felt it in how easily he clued onto how my body reacted- knowing how hard to press his thumb against my clit to make my back arch, knowing what angle to hook his fingers inside me to make me cry his name.
And as he shoved his thick fingers in until his knuckles inside me and hooked them up, he got his wish, got to see as that chord within me splintered to pieces and my eyes rolled back as I came.
“Rhys I’m-“ I cry out, black dots blurring my vision and my body writhing against his hand, trying to pull away as he still moved those fingers inside me, but he clamped down another hand on my stomach, fingers holding my flesh possessively to keep me in place.
“C’mon darling,” Rhysand cooed, his voice almost cruel, almost patronising as he fucked me through my orgasm, my walls clenching around his fingers again and again, my orgasm spreading through my thighs and stomach and hips like glass. “I’ve got you, your High Lord’s right here.”
I whimpered at the humour in his dark tone, my legs closing around Rhysand’s hand- a mixture of overstimulation from his touch and the filthy words he poured like honey into my ear.
“Too much, too much I can’t-“
He chuckled, like the prick that he is, but mercifully, his fingers stopped, hand halting inside me and I instantly sagged with relief.
I could feel Rhysand’s power thrumming around us, frantic and powerful as if blazing brighter at my climax, at seeing me fall apart. I winced as he slipped his fingers out from me, and he seemed to melt back into being unbearably sweet as he languished his hand along my thigh, waiting for me to catch my breath.
I blinked my eyes open, fighting the exhaustion that ran through me, rooted deep inside me and smiled at the sea of violet and stars that stared back at me.
“I don’t think that was the kind of care Madja meant, Rhys,” I breathe, my voice trembling as tendrils of my climax faded away and the grin that stretched across his face, it was fucking beautiful.
“Well technically I did change your bandage,” He cocked his head, eyes gleaming and only then did I notice the sheet of stars and moonlight wrapped around my thighs, a blanket of Rhysand’s power, iridescent as the night sky outside over my wound- protecting and healing.
“Thank you,” I giggled quietly, pleasantly amazed and the air in the room felt so light as our gazes met, his hand still caressing sweetly against my thigh. He must sense the words on the tip of my tongue because he inches closer, face bright with understanding.
“Rhys, what we-“
“Y/N!”
A tall figure bursts through my room door and I only see flashes of long blonde hair and two sets of wings before Rhysand shifts in front of me, his large body shielding my bareness and his face is beyond frustrated as he tugs down my top, until the material is scraping my mid-thigh.
“Are you okay?” Mor comes rushing in, oblivious to what she just walked in on, and I cringe as Rhysand purses his lips and shuffles back to give the female space as she practically launches at my side. “I heard what happened-“
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I chuckle uncomfortably, seeing the worry in her brown eyes and I smile when she wraps her arms around me, hugging me suffocatingly tight. “Mor, honestly I’m fine.”
“Rhysand’s been taking care of her,” Azriel muses quietly and I shoot him a scathing glare over Mor’s shoulder, seeing his lip tilt at the corner. Rhys rolls his eyes, but I can see the satisfaction in his eyes, that they knew.
Knew that he was the one that made me feel as good as I did.
And something akin to wildfire burns through my blood when I slide my gaze down his body, to the hard, long imprint of his cock straining against his slacks. I swallow at the sight; my mouth watering and I feel a brush of claws tease against my mind.
As if to say- later.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” Mor sighed, before plopping down on the chair by my bed. Rhysand sighed- a truly irate and defeated sound like he couldn’t believe our family had just walked in on us like he was getting very tired of all the interruptions. “When Cassian called me, I came as soon as I could.”
“Thank you, Mor,”  I smile, glancing at her to my side and my body tingles when Rhys pulls the comforter over my body, fingers brushing my breasts as he does so.
I don’t miss the smile he tries to hide.
“Speaking of me,” Cassian steps forward, an absolutely delighted grin stretching his face, eyes flashing knowingly between me and Rhys and my brows furrow when Rhysand’s face darkens like he wants to lunge at the male.
“Did I hear Y/N mention my name earlier?”
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Taking requests for all SJM men!
part 3??
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thehighladywrites · 10 months
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Hii, it's me again, haha.
I got one idea and I though it would be fun, so here I am again...
Can you make texting with acotar characters or just batboys while reader is drunk and she slipped past them to bar and they text her where she went? (I hope it makes sense since my brain doesn't work this late...)
LA /Lulu <3
ACOTAR MEN X READER, SNEAKING OUT TO GO TO A BAR WHILE DRUNK
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Summary: Do you sneak past them successfully? And if you manage to do so, how do they react?
Warnings: Mild nsfw in Eris and Rhysand’s part, mentions of drinking, a bit of crying, mention of reader throwing up in Cassian’s part, just fluff and crack
Author’s note: Hi Lulu, I always love your requests. And you make perfect sense, but i switched it up and made headcanons instead of a text thread because it would’ve been too much text. I hope this is okay!🫶🏽 Also i loved writing this, thank you for your request!!🤍
Azriel:
- There is no sneaking past Azriel, it’s just impossible
- His shadows know if you move a millimeter
- Even if he didn’t have them, he’s the spymaster and there’s just no way you’re able to fool him, especially not when you’re this drunk
- You try to sneak out but very obviously fail when you trip over nothing and bring down the table next to you.
- “ Love, where do you think you’re going? You’re drunk out of your mind.”
- “ Ssshhh... *hiccup* hidin' from my mate. Bar with frens, can't let him kn... *mumbles* the secret, ya know?
- He laughs as he picks you up.
- You scream that you’re mated and then give him a big smile when he puts you down and meets your eyes as you realize it’s your mate.
- “Hey, babyyy, misshed you soso much, like, *slightly mumbles* a looot!”
- you plant a fat kiss on his lips and pull him to you
- Azriel just gives you a small smile and pick you up to put you in bed.
- He’s for sure giving you lessons on how to properly sneak out, because you were too damn obvious,
- The spymaster can’t have his own mate be a bad spy, now can he?
Rhysand:
- He let’s you sneak out.
- This guy trails you, dying of laughter as you have a full on conversation with a tree, thinking it’s a person.
- He loves that you’re tiptoeing in the middle of the streets, trying to be subtle.
- Your eyes widen as you see him standing at the entrance of the bar you tried to sneak into.
- “Hello there darling, fancy meeting you here.”
- “ Whoooa you're here too? *hiccup* Wha' a craaazy coincidence, Cheeers to surprish... *mumbles* meetin's!”
- You beg him for shots and he indulges you, but switches the shots of vodka for water. He knows you were drunk enough to not realize. And if you complain about the taste, he adds a bit of salt for the taste.
- You both dance and sing and make out
- yeah drunkenly making out with Rhysand is heavenly
- He grabs you and leads you somewhere more private because it is unbecoming for the high lady and high lord to be seen like this
- his idea of private is… * drumroll * the bathroom!!!
- Rhys picks you up and plops you down on the sink’s side and just goes at it with no care in the world, after all who can say something to him or you?
- anyways you’re both lucid enough to acknowledge that fucking in a bar might be a bit… yeah… so he takes you home and gives you the time of your life
Cassian:
- Cassian is just as drunk as you are
- In the middle of your drunken giggles you came up with this brilliant idea to sneak out and meet up your friends at Rita’s
- You were in The House of Wind so sneaking out wasn’t really as easy as it sounded since you don’t have wings.
- You really wanna go out so you ask Mor to secretly help you when she’s leaving
- The bar was crowded as you danced on tables and bought shots for everyone.
- All of a sudden you felt nauseous and needed to empty your guts. You run out and stumble into Cassian who looks surprised to see you.
- Before he can explain what he’s doing here, you move away and throw up in the alleyway.
- He makes his way over to you and holds back your hair.
- The whole thing sobers you up a bit as you look up at Cassian, sensing mischief and guilt.
- “Baby, what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely confused.
- “ Um, Rhys and Az are in the bar next door and asked if i wanted to come. Wait- what are YOU doing here?”
- “ Uhhh, I snuck out too. I wanted to meet my friends. But wait did you seriously plan on leaving me alone?”
- His jaw dropped and you bit your lips from laughing.
- “You snuck out first! So actually, you left me first, all alone.”
- You both stare at each other for a hot minute before giggling and agreeing that this never happened and left to meet up with Rhys and Az.
Lucien:
- He trusts you more than anyone in the world, so he doesn’t suspect that you’re lying when you say you’re just going to the bathroom.
- Little does he know you’re drunkenly stumbling over to The Sunshine Delight, the best bar in the Day Court.
- You don’t know how long you’re there for but you go up to the stage and sing a bit, go the bar and drink, dance around and suddenly stumble upon your friends.
- They catch up with you as you sit and play drinking games, laughing and having the time of your lives.
- Your friends sit up straighter and fix their hair and makeup as your brows furrow in confusion. Turning around to see who they’re oogling at, you’re met by Helion’s bewildered expression.
- Shit. If your father-in-law knew you were here then there was only a matter of time before Lucien picked you up. Your friends however didn’t care as Helion approached.
- “ Gods, you’re lucky Y/n, he is so hot! Please put in a good word for me.” You friend not-so-subtly whispered, unaware that Helion was already mated to Lady of Autumn. Helion’s laugh boomed as he plopped down besides you, making you sober up a bit.
- “My dearest daughter, what in The Mother’s name are you doing here all alone? Is my son lurking around here?”
- Oh no, Lucien… Even though you missed your friends, you wanted him here. Tears started forming in your eyes as you started feeling distressed by your mate not being next to you
- “ M’not sure. He should be around here somewhere. Actually let me go check-” He must know you’re lying because he just laughs and tells you Lucien is on his way.
- “ You’re drunk out of your mind and I honestly applaud you for managing to sneak out of the palace at all. But it’s dangerous to be here by yourself, sweetheart. Let’s just wait for Luc, yeah?”
- He was right. Gods, how could you just leave Lucien? Guilt filled you as you started sobbing in the middle of the bar. Your friends and father-in-law looked alarmed and they comforted you as you cried for your mate and husband.
- Lucien was so ready to lecture you about leaving drunk and alone in the middle of the night but all of that came to a halt when he noticed you crying.
- His protective instincts went into overdrive as he hurriedly approached the table, confusion written all over his face as you threw yourself at him in a bone crushing hug, bawling your eyes out.
- Helion and your friends briefly explained as they held back their laughs at your drunken state.
- Lucien took you home and cared for you, whispering comfort and postponed his lecture about the dangers of the night.
- His mate needed him and you were his priority, always.
Eris:
- Yeah…
- I genuinely think he’s one of the smartest sjm-verse characters and if we’re so real, you’re not sneaking past him.
- But let’s be a bit delulu
- He noticed you were a bit buzzed after having too much wine at dinner
- Much to his amusement, you cling to him and act like a complete fool. But he makes sure it’s in private because he knows you’d die if you knew anyone saw you acting like a drunkard.
- At dinner, your ladies informed you that they were visiting this new bar and asked if you wanted to come. Initially you had declined because you wanted to spend time with Eris, but after he informed you that he has a meeting, you changed your mind.
- You had to be very sneaky since Eris knew you inside and out. He could tell when you were up to something. But this was the perfect coverup for your plan.
- “I’m so tired. I think this wine is making me sleepy. Love, I’m gonna turn in for the night, you sure you still have to go to that meeting? You could stay here with me instead.”
- Eris eyes filled with longing as he sighed heavily.
-“ I wish I could cancel, my beloved. But Lord Cruit travelled far and I think it’s best we get these documents signed and dealt with. Besides it’s only two hours and if you behave, i’ll treat you real nice. What do you say?” He gently brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you forward into a kiss.
- You loved when he treated you good, but you loved it even more when he punished you. So you just smiled at him sweetly, putting on your best show.
-“ I’ll behave, I promise. I love you, now hurry. You don’t wanna be late.” You pecked him once, twice and ushered him out as quickly as you could before he could pick up on what you were doing
- You waited for fifteen minutes before you changed into one of your sluttiest dresses you had, and winnowed to the new bar. You spotted your friends and made your way over, deciding not to drink too much since you wanted to remember the inevitable consequences of your decision
- and also the wine from dinner had you buzzed.
- After around two hours, the crowd separated to let High Lord Eris through. He looked beyond unamused, just staring at you without saying anything because, well, it wasn't something he wanted everyone to hear in public.
- he just looks at you from top to toe and simply turns around and walk away.
- That is your cue to go as you fall into step behind him.
- “ Babyyyyyy s-slow down, 'ese shoes, can't... *mumble*... walk right in 'em!” He slows down and extends his hand before throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and winnowing home.
- Eris leads you into your chambers and puts you down before grabbing your chin and looking you deep into your eyes with a wicked smirk as he mentally starts planning your punishment, funishment is more like it
- Safe to say he had fun… and he told you that if you’d just let him know you were going out then he wouldn’t have had to look for you like a maniac. He gave you a dark chuckle when you told him this was your plan all along.
- Here babes, you’re gonna need this wheelchair 👩🏾‍🦽👩‍🦽
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Could I request “accidently sitting on their face” but instead of twst characters, could it be the Overlord floor guardians with a SB! Reader?
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Accidentally Sitting on Their Face | Yandere Overlord
Whether as a fellow Supreme Being and especially as Flower of Nazarick everyone trips every now and again. It’s only a matter of who’s doing the tripping and into what. With a generally soft body and a human behind all of it, it’s up to you to play it off as a mistake or a highly calculated move as a higher being. Too bad the Floor Guardians would never care:
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Demiurge 
It probably happens during training 
As the flower of Nazarick, you’re powers are truly limitless but getting a grasp on what you can do is what Ainz put Demiurge in charge of
“Alright (Y/n)-sama sprout wings that look like mine and go as high as you can.”
“Okay got it! Whoooooo!”
“Don’t go too far up otherwise you’ll hit the–”
BANG 
Crack
You weren’t outside
You were on the training grounds of the sixth floor 
and you've just broken and banged into the roof of the floor
Momentarily stunned you’re on your way to the ground
You’re on the level of Ainz you won’t be hurt but Demiurge still prepares to catch you
“Oooh! Oh no Demiurge are you okay?! Wait where’d you go?”
He’ll wait for you to notice 
Remaining still as a plank as you get up embarrassed
When he does get up he’ll bow his head 
“Excuse me. (Y/n)-sama.”
He teleports to his floor
Before practically destroying the place with his tale 
As he morphs into no specific monster
His servants are horrified but when the thrashing tail of his stills 
There’s a wide smile on his blushing face
He’ll return to train you and act as though nothing has happened
But for the next two weeks, his tail will randomly thrash around in trickling excitement
A Supreme Being touched him 
A Supreme Being sat on him
A Supreme Being sat on his face
Shaltear has nothing on him
“Shall we continue (Y/n)? As your designated instructor I will let nothing impede your blossoming as a true ruler of Nazarick,”
“You’re…not embarrassed at all?”
“Never. Any contact especially of something so intimate is a gift in and of itself.”
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Albedo 
Shadowing her when Ainz says to becomes a common routine
helping her as much as you can though she deems most tasks unworthy of you
You learn to seek her guidance
To follow after her 
To ask her what’s the right thing to do
while Ainz is adamant about correcting her more violent or overprotective lessons there are many he misses
“Uhm A-Albedo I don’t think this is umm a normal thing.”
“(Y/n)-Sama this is for your own good! Learning to punish your subordinates for the filth that comes from their lips! Like that blood-sucking trollop!”
“B-b-b-but Shaltear betrayed all of Nazarick and attacked Ainz.”
“Remember this, my Supreme Being! Ainz has warned us all not to underestimate humans. Yet I’ve insulted them and in front of you when you asked that I wouldn’t! That is worth of punishment!”
“Uh okay but only for a little while…”
“YES! THANK YOU MY FLOWER!”
You’re slow about it 
Too slow in Albedo’s opinion 
 she’ll grab your thighs and hold you in place
She’ll sniff and drool as she bucks her hips into the air
Should anyone walk in they’ll get a knife between the eyes
When she’s done climaxed
She’ll let you stand up and drink in your embarrassed expressions
“T-thank you for the punishment, (Y/n)-sama!” 
“I-I’m going to my room!”
“I’ll join you~shortly!”
If Ainz gets any wind of it she’ll claim that it was all a lesson on properly punishing your subjects
And all you got was flustered from using force
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Shaltear
During a training session, it happens 
Filling in for Demiurge she trains you on her fighting style 
Encouraging you to launch yourself in her direction for practice
But by using too much power you overshot
So instead of front ways tackling Shaltear
Your butt is on her face 
“Oh Shaltear I’m s-sorry..?”
You’re slow to speak as you hear her moan
You wonder if it’s from pain 
So you’ll get up slowly worried that she may be hurt
And her nose does appear to be broken as a blood streak trickles down her blushing cheeks
She’s shaking in excitement 
Jolting in excitement as she hugs herself moaning about something you can’t choose not to pick up
She’ll be like that for a little while 
So you should come back after a little while
Maybe then she’ll be able to form a coherent sentence that isn’t your name
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trivialovehandles · 2 months
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i haven't even finished the 21 days fics but i keep thinking about a future scenario of the minimoni one where jimin DOES find his limit like he mentions near the end (maybe he's getting winded too easily or he's tired of buying new clothes all the time or he's just really into his current size) and starts maintaining rather than actively gaining. and now that he's not so focused on the feeding aspect all the time, he gets to focus more on what it's really like to live in this new, fat body.
he goes to the gym and instead of taking it easy on a too-full stomach, he remembers the musclepig videos he used to watch and admires how now his own bulging stomach squashes against his thick thighs on the leg press.
he goes out dancing with his friends and rather than making sure he keeps himself supplied with the most caloric drinks all night, he takes to the dance floor almost immediately to bounce and shake and feel his ass jiggle to the beat, along with his belly that's hanging perfectly out of his crop top (because why should he have to change how he dresses for the club just because he's fat now? he likes crop tops, he's gonna wear a crop top!).
he shops for new outfits in specialty stores more often than not, because standard sizes in korea only size up to slightly chubby at best. most of the time, he has to buy clothes online, and when they arrive in the mail, he strips down right in the living room to give namjoon a fashion show. if the clothes fit, then great! if they don't, then it's still exciting to marvel at the way jimin's fatter body bulges out of places it never used to: sleeves that are too tight and squeeze the little wings of flab on his biceps, inner thigh seams that stretch and crackle when he tries to pull them up. that old, overgrown company t-shirt is practically a crop top by now, difficult to pull down to cover his pudgy overhang even with the cotton stretched to its limits.
at work, there are people now who never knew him skinny. to them, he's always been pear-shaped, chubby jimin. new hires and transfers are always surprised when they see the wedding photo washi-taped to the cabinet above his desk, taken just a few years ago, rail-thin jimin absolutely tiny in comparison to namjoon, who he's outweighed for a while now. they don't say anything, but he notices how their gazes fall to his thighs that take up the entirety of his desk chair and his belly that bulges over his waistbands to rest on top of them.
namjoon is just as affectionate as ever. jimin hadn't been sure how to approach him with the initial decision to start to maintain rather than continue to gain, but it was met with immediate enthusiasm and love. their nights are still spent cooking together, but jimin doesn't end the day out of breath from stuffing. in bed, he takes time to notice and admire how far namjoon's arms reach out now to pull him closer, and that when he lays on his side, his belly lays on the stretch of sheets in front of him.
jimin just takes up so much more space now than he used to, and it's exciting. the tight fit in his desk chair at work. the wide fit pants he has to special order because he's still short but he's got fat hips and a round ass. the way that he doesn't quite take up two seats on the bus but definitely can't fit anyone next to him (and okay, he feels a little bad for that one sometimes; he'll offer up his seat to expectant parents or elders or kids and stand instead if he has to). the fact that he and namjoon haven't been able lay side-by-side on the couch for a while and if they want to cuddle on it, one has to be on top of the other (and how that's usually namjoon anymore unless he particularly feels like being crushed because jimin has 80 pounds on him now).
jimin looks back at the version of himself who had just realized he'd accidentally put on weight, who thought he'd have to lose it to feel good until he realized he didn't have to lose it, and then he looks at himself now, the happiest he's been and also the fattest he's been. when he'd first talked about hitting limits, he thought that day would be met with dread and discomfort, but he likes this limit. his body feels good like this, thick and heavy and fat and his.
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here’s my entry for day 4 of @gem-pearl-week 2024! today’s prompt is “godhood” :D
Pearl’s arrival into the Empires SMP is marked by confusion.
Everyone around her is dressed in their normal clothes. Save for a few missing pieces and lost inventories, they’re all exactly the same as they were before. And they’re all staring at her.
Pearl is too distracted by the entirely new universe they’ve all crash-landed in to figure out why for a few hours. It’s only while talking to a man who has to be Scott’s soultwin that she finally processes it.
Her normal T-shirt and black hoodie have been replaced by a flowing green dress. She wears golden sandals instead of scuffed black sneakers. Her hair is much longer than it should be, and it’s oddly straight and shiny – very different from the usual tangles that come from hours of building work. The only familiar thing about her outfit is a crown of sunflowers, her favorite flower since childhood. Scott tells her she looks familiar, but that can’t be right. She doesn’t even look like herself.
————
“Pearl, what in the world did you do to her?”
A redheaded dragon hybrid with scaly white wings curls up against her partner as they watch the world from above. “You could’ve at least given them all a transformation,” she continues.
“I didn’t mean to!” A goddess with a sunflower crown wraps a golden goose wing around her. “It just sort of happened, Gem. I’ve got no explanation for it.”
“This can’t be a coincidence,” Gem says. “I’ve been watching my soultwin from a thousand years in the future LARP an entire developed empire for the last six months. I didn’t even know yours existed.”
“It’s a comforting thought.” Pearl smiles. “Maybe we’re supposed to find each other in every universe.”
“Yeah.” Gem closes her eyes and takes in the warmth of Pearl’s embrace. “Still. You could at least give her a hello before you transform her in your image.”
Pearl swats Gem with her other wing. “I told you, that was a complete accident.”
————
“Princess Gem of the kingdom of Dawn,” Pearl repeats, reading over the signature on Dawn’s latest royal decree.
The new universe solves exactly one mystery: where on earth Gem’s been disappearing to every day. It’s comforting to know she hasn’t just been holed up in her Hermitcraft base. Dawn is developed and beautiful, and the empire’s builds all bear a distinct GeminiTay touch. Pearl could wander its winding roads for hours.
Beyond that, though, Pearl has a thousand more questions. How did Gem get through the rift before it was open? How did she find out about this world? Who’s the goddess in the stained-glass window of the church, and why does she kind of look like me? And above all, what on earth is going on with my new outfit?
She doesn’t have time to wonder for long before Gem appears behind her. “Hey, Pearl!”
Pearl drops the scroll and shrieks in surprise. “You startled me! How’d you get back there?”
“I’ve been here for a while!” Gem says with a grin. “How are you doing? Enjoying the kingdom?”
Pearl tries to put on a bright smile. “Yeah, it’s great! I can’t believe what you’ve done with the place.”
Gem sees straight through Pearl’s act. “Okay, I know you better than that. How are you really doing?”
Pearl sits down on a nearby bench and sighs. “I feel weird. Is that bad?”
“Nope. I felt like that when I stumbled on this place. Especially after…” Gem flutters her monarch butterfly wings. “I’m still adjusting to these things. It’s hard to be an elytrian. How do you do it every day?”
Pearl giggles. “Hard work and practice. And, you know, living with them all day, every day since age seven.” She elbows Gem playfully, then sighs. “Your friend Sausage keeps forgetting who I am.”
“Sausage forgets everything,” Gem says without a hint of concern. “He’ll get it back.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. He keeps calling me a goddess.” It occurs to her that Gem might be able to help her solve another mystery. “Do you know who Santa Perla is?”
Gem’s eyes light up. “Of course! She’s a farming goddess. There are all kinds of legends about her. Apparently she lived, like, a thousand years ago. I’ve heard a couple different versions of the story, but the main idea is that she was a guardian who was killed at the end of the world and then brought back to life by the king of Mythland. She’s supposed to bring protection and renewal.”
“Protection and renewal.” Pearl can’t help but smile at that. “Y’know, I don’t mind being compared to that. She sounds nice.”
“Come to think of it, she does kind of look like you,” Gem says.
“Aw, are you calling me pretty?”
Gem jokingly winks. “Brighter than the sun.”
————
“I’ve been trying to figure out how to reach her,” Saint Pearl admits.
Gem looks up from the pie filling she’s halfway through preparing and blinks in surprise. “I thought you never tried to visit the world below anymore.”
“I know. But she’s different.” Pearl grabs a spoon from the kitchen drawer and steals a spoonful of pie filling. “She’s basically my sister. I’ve got to say hello.”
Gem smirks. “And that’s all?”
“I’m not going to ask her if she’s in love with the ruler of Dawn, if that’s what you’re implying.” Pearl steals another spoonful of pie filling. “Oh, that’s really good. What is that, apple?”
“Golden apple and honey.” Gem moves the bowl out of Pearl’s reach with a grin. “I guess you’re right. We already know the answer.”
“Hey, now.” Pearl reaches for another bite of pie and misses by a mile. “I don’t want to make assumptions about her. Or your soultwin, for that matter.”
“She heard your story and immediately built a church for you. And you ‘just so happen’ to resemble her best friend on her home server.” Gem moves the bowl a bit further away. “Save some for the pie, you goofball.”
“And what are you suggesting we do? Play matchmaker?” Pearl moves a bit closer, surreptitiously reaching out a spoon.
“Nope,” Gem says, both to the suggestion and the attempted theft. “I don’t know. However they feel, we shouldn’t try to force them together. I just think we need to…”
“We should just…” Pearl says.
“...say hello,” they say at the same time.
Gem notices Pearl has another spoonful of pie filling in her hand. “Oh, don’t you dare!”
————
Climbing a tree at night is the most foolish thing Gem’s ever done.
In her very weak defense, she panicked. There was a creeper following her, and it’s hard to think straight when a murderous mob is on your tail. Besides, the tree provided a foothold to climb up to the roof of a nearby fisherman’s cottage. He’s out of the house that day, thank goodness – she doesn’t know what she’d do if anyone caught her like this.
With the creeper gone, Gem prepares to step down, then freezes. The ground below her is surrounded on all sides by zombies.
She reaches for her sword, then remembers she doesn’t have one. Gem can’t help but roll her eyes at the realization that she’s effectively the human equivalent of a cat in a tree. “I deserve this. That’s on me.”
From a few blocks away, someone calls, “You alright over there?”
Gem recognizes the voice and immediately puts her head in her hands.
Sure enough, Pearl swoops down and lands on the tree’s highest branch. “Well, now, what do we have here?”
“A lot of zombies,” Gem says.
Pearl peers down at the horde below. “I’m surprised you haven’t cut all their heads off by now.”
Gem sighs. “Well, uh. About that.” She looks down at her feet. “My character– I mean–” She clears her throat. “Princess Gem of Dawn doesn’t carry weapons.”
“A damsel in distress, huh?” Pearl ties her dress out of the way and climbs up to the roof. “Doesn’t sound like the Gemini I know.”
“Shut up and give me a sword.”
“Gladly.” Pearl tosses an iron sword to Gem, then takes her own diamond sword from her inventory. “This might be the last time I ever have better gear than you.”
“Oh, I’ve got full netherite armor on. You just can’t see it.” Gem hops down to the grass and begins taking out the zombies around her.
Pearl joins her after a moment. Gem can’t help but feel a sense of pride at the fact that Pearl has clearly improved since Season 8. A selfish part of her hopes it’s because of their sparring practices.
Saint Pearl watches the sight on her television with one wing wrapped around Gem. “Aw, look at ‘em.”
“They’re such idiots,” Gem giggles.
“Because of the not-unrequited love, or because Gem didn’t have a sword?”
“Can’t it be both?” Gem says with a grin.
The last zombie disappears into a puff of smoke just as the sun peeks over the horizon. Pearl nudges Gem. “Hey, look. Dawn.”
Gem sits down and leans against the wall of the house. “Pretty, isn’t it?”
Pearl sits down next to her. “So beautiful.”
Gem smiles at the sight of the sunrise. “We used to do this sometimes.”
“We still do,” Saint Pearl says.
Pearl sleepily grins. “Thank you for the adventure.”
Pearl rests her head on Gem’s shoulder. Pearl rests her head on Gem’s shoulder.
A soft sense of connection – of something finally feeling right – washes over Pearl and Gem at the same time. Gem yawns. “We should at least get a bit of rest.” She offers Pearl her hand. “Sleepover at my castle?”
“Gladly,” Pearl says.
————
Hello, Pearl.
Your new friends are right that you look familiar. The transformation was an accident, and I apologize for that. I’m not sure how to undo it – not when you’re on this server, I mean. I will say that the dress suits you. Its color matches your hair very nicely.
Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I think I can speak to you and your friends in dreams. It’s much more clear than when I’m in person, at least. It’s true that I’m a goddess, but there’s much more to the story than people know. I was the ruler of Gilded Helianthia, a kingdom full of sunflowers. I learned to fight to protect my friends, much like the way you saved Gemini today. We have a lot in common. I suspect there’s even more that I haven’t yet learned.
My partner is asleep next to me. She’s holding my hand. I think you’d like her. We have that in common, too.
Thank you for making yourself known to me. I’m glad to finally meet you, and I hope we get to learn more about each other in the future. It’s nice to know I have a kind and protective soultwin to look after.
I suppose I might as well leave you with one more tidbit about me, considering you’re going to wake up soon. My partner is the former wizard and ruler of the Crystal Cliffs, a thousand years ago. I love her. She’s a real gem.
I hope you’re well, and that tomorrow brings you more adventures. It’s lovely to finally meet you.
————
When Pearl wakes up, there’s a potted sunflower on Gem’s bedside table that wasn’t there before. She picks it and adds it into her flower crown. “Good morning, Saint Pearl. Thank you for the gift.”
The princess of Dawn rolls over and curls up against Pearl’s side, snoring softly.
Pearl smiles. “And thank you too, Wizard Gem.”
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mothfables · 8 months
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“Hey, Legend, I’ve been meaning to ask. Why do you not eat meat? N-Not that it’s an issue! I was just wondering.” Wind asks one night during dinner.
Legend pauses as he’s taking a bite of his own food. “Oh, um- I can, um, talk t’ animals.”
Wind’s mouth makes an ‘O’ shape. “...I can see how that would put you off, yeah.”
“Have you... always had that ability?” Twilight asks. Four looks intrigued; he’d explained once how he’d used what he called ‘jabber nuts’ during one of his adventures to be able to understand the minish as well as animals.
“No, I got it on my, um...” He stops to think for a moment, counting on his fingers. “On my second ‘venture. I went ta Holodrum an’ ended up havin’ ta save Din. She’s th’ Oracle o’ Seasons. Some o’ them can talk like people, like Ricky an’ Moosh an’ Dimitri! Th’ rest are jus’ normal animals.”
“Who are Ricky, Moosh, and Dimitri?”
Legend brightens, excited to talk about something from his adventures for once. “Ricky’s a kangaroo! He lost his gloves inna boxing match so I got ‘em back for him!” He mimes a boxing stance and throws a few punches. Sky dives to save his bowl from spilling onto the ground and instead holds onto it for him until he’s done.
“You can box?” Twilight looks surprised.
“Enough ta win a match!” He looks very proud of himself. “Moosh is a bear! He’s blue an’ has little white wings so he can fly an’ he likes sleeping a lot. Ricky an’ me met him when we were facing off against a buncha monsters. He woke up cause o’ all th’ noise and then we flew away and escaped.”
“And Dimitri?” Time prompts.
“Dimitri’s a dodongo!” More than one of them gape in surprise. “He’s real nice, an’ really good at swimming! You can tell it’s him cause he has a broken horn.”
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sweetsuke · 1 year
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i've officially joined ithaeli nation!! i can't stop thinking about them dzvbbcbbbgdd
putting my thoughts about them under the cut because. it's A Lot
okay here's just a rundown of why i initially thought they'd be neat together:
-they both wear hoods that cover the majority of their hair and things that cover the majority of their face
-they both have a connection to nature (eli with animals, ithaqua with the forest/wind)
-each of them are self-assured in their abilities
-both will do anything for those they love
-they have similar color palettes
now a specific scenario that won't leave my mind:
i'm thinking about eli's owl being injured during a duo match, maybe it sprains one of its wings or its eye is injured. regardless, it doesn't make its way back to eli during the match, not even when he's chaired and sent back to the mansion. eli, immediately assuming the worst, refuses to use his foresight for fear of what he'll see - his owl bleeding out in a clearing, or crushed underneath a pallet, all alone and unable to return to him. after all, that's the only reason it wouldn't come back, right?
cut to ithaqua, who's just finished a duo match. right before heading back to the manor, he spots a lump of feathers poking out of a group of bushes nearby - when he approaches it, he discovers an injured owl, who begins snapping its beak in defense as he gets closer. ithaqua is a new hunter, so he doesn't immediately recognize it as the seer's owl. instead, he simply sees an injured animal. ithaqua coos gently at the owl until it trusts him enough to pick it up, and then he cradles it in his tattered cloak before bringing it back to the mansion. he's a recluse by nature, so he doesn't share his discovery with the hunter he'd played the match with; it was none of their business, anyhow. (what he doesn't know is that the other hunter had been the one to injure the owl, who all the rest of the hunters had come to realize could take hit for a survivor and recover fine).
after returning to his room on the hunter's side of the manor, itahqua bandages the owl's wounds and catches rats and mice for it to eat since it can't hunt for itself. the owl grows to like ithaqua, who treats it with respect and doesn't seem to have any ulterior motive behind his actions. after the owl is recovered enough, ithaqua releases it outside, where it disappears into the nearby forest. ithaqua is happy to see it fly, even if he's a little sad to watch it go because he'd grown fond of it.
cut back to eli, who's basically given up on his owl ever returning at this point. it's been weeks by now, and he's come to accept the fact that something terrible happened to his beloved owl. he still hasn't used his foresight to see what happened to it, hating what he knew he'd see. he's been useless in matches since then, unable to help his teammates as he used to without the support of his owl. 
and then, during a match one day - eli's owl reappears. he barely registers the familiar bird call before it barrels into him from the air, cooing excitedly and pecking him affectionately as it returns to its perch on his shoulder as if it had never left. eli is so happy he cries. and so, so confused. his owl looks no worse for wear, despite having been gone for so long. he can't imagine where it'd been, why it had left; but his overwhelming relief is what takes precedence. he wins that match with the newfounded hope that comes from reuniting with a missing friend.
sometime later, maybe only a couple of days, eli is taking part in another match. it's against a hunter he's never met before, one that his fellow survivors speak of with worried voices: a hunter on stilts, as fast as the wind and as vicious as winter. eli focuses on decoding the second the match starts, set on staying out of the fray and protecting his teammates from afar. he uses his foresight to observe the hunter, watches the way the hunter moves as it chases the unfortunate doctor. he watches as the hunter downs his teammate, calls for his owl to move before his vision comes true. and then the weirdest thing happens: he watches as his owl swoops in to receive the attack meant for the doctor, only for the hunter to stop short and pause. eli's owl, in a baffling turn of events, lets out a delighted coo and flies up to land on the hunter's shoulder, where it pecks the hunter's masked face affectionately. eli's foresight fizzles out from surprise. deciding to see if he'd somehow miseen, he locates the hunter and approaches it, where sure enough, his owl is excitedly swooping around. eli can't begin to make heads or tails of what's going on.
ithaqua, on the other hand, is ecstatic. the owl friend he'd nursed back to health had shown back up! who cares if the timing wasn't the best? he hadn't expected to see the tiny owl ever again, let alone so soon. he carefully scritches the owl's head, taking care not to injure it with his elongated nails. he doesn't even notice when the survivor he'd been hunting runs away. he does, however, notice when the owl flies off, only to land a short distance away on a different survivor's shoulder. the survivor is unfamiliar, dressed head-to-toe in robes and wearing a strange blindfold. the owl pecks the survivor and coos, and ithaqua realizes the owl belongs to this survivor. oh. he hadn't even considered that the owl belonged to someone. he'd just assumed the owl had gotten injured because it'd been in the area, not because it'd been taking part in the match all those weeks ago. the survivor waves at ithaqua uncertainly, and inthaqua doesn't know how to respond so he activates his wind walk and takes off in the opposite direction.
idk how exactly they'd react to eachother past this point, but i think they'd eventually grow to be friends somehow. and eli's owl would try to wingman them together :3
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vulcan-bourbon · 1 year
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writober 2023
day 10 — południca
In Polish folklore, the Południca, also called Lady Midday or the Noon Witch, is a female supernatural figure that roomed in the roamed field bounds, scaring away the children from ruining the crops. They are said to bring people to madness, and they were used to explain cases of heat stroke.
There were a couple of minutes left until noon. A lazy breeze was walking in the wheat field, as if it was dancing some kind of intricate dance with them, sometimes intensifying and pressing the ears almost to the ground, sometimes as if trying to pull them up to the clouds themselves. The latter absolutely apathetically and indifferently floated across the sky about their business, as if not noticing anything around them.
Especially Scar, who was sitting on a blanket in the middle of a golden wheat field. Around the man himself were scattered in a chaotic-rational (yes, exactly that) order, artifacts that were waiting in the wings.
- Come to me, my love. - he whispers to the wind, hoping that his words will reach the addressee.
Noon comes, and, as if on a click, everything around calms down.
And, as if his whisper had been heard, a couple of meters next to him appears the figure of a young man with light brown hair, pale skin, dressed in white robes that resemble a linen toga, but are not one.
The young man was covered with a white transparent blanket, but so thin and barely noticeable that one could see his violet eyes and a flirtatious smile directed at Scar.
On top of the bedspread and hair, like a crown, the ghost was crowned with a wreath of poppy flowers.
Goodtimes froze in place, afraid to even gasp in surprise that he was able to summon his lover... from the other world?
Scar doesn't have time to say anything before the figure in the blanket begins to hum softly:
- I am death and birth,
I am the rise and fall.
I am peace and struggle,
Rest and movement.
I am what you are looking for
What are you avoiding?
I am what you crave
And what are you rejecting...
— Grian, — Scar whispers barely audibly, wanting to touch his fiancé, but knowing full well that any unnecessary movement could make Xelqua disappear.
The wind freezes in place throughout the entire field, and further confirmation that Grian is next to him is that from the figure of the noonday, the ears of corn move around him when he runs his palm over them.
Time seemed to freeze around them; only noonwraith could move in this world, approaching Scar step by step and smiling more and more contentedly, each time getting closer to him.
The ghost sits down next to him on the blanket, hugging his knees with his arms and tenderly looking at his lover with his piercing amethyst eyes.
- You can’t count my faces,
There are countless incarnations.
I am your dying cry
And a groan of pleasure. - Grian sings, watching as Scar reaches out his hand, wanting to throw off the blanket from the ghost, and quietly laughs at this action, leaning in and quickly kissing him tenderly on the lips through the thin fabric.
Scar froze in place, wanting to respond to the kiss, but instead Grian pulled back laughing, turning his gaze to the ears of corn nearby and moving his palm over them, causing them to sway quietly.
- Grian, take me with you, please. - Scar whispers, looking at his lover who has turned away. - I know that you are an Watcher...
Xelqua shudders in place and turns to the man with a surprised look, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
- Maybe... we can be reborn somewhere and be together? - Scar says barely audibly with sadness in his voice.
Grian looks at the man for a short time, as if calculating something, deliberately teasingly thoughtfully putting a finger to his lips and looking at the sky, as if deep in thought.
Half a moment later, the ghost continues to sing:
- Know your death
Know your goodness.
Between fear and faith
Hope and ruin -
Only one choice
Just one step...
Scar's eyes light up, and he, unable to hold back any longer, pulls his lover towards him by the blanket to dive under the blanket and meet his lips with the creature that is destined for him.
The quiet, barely audible sound of the server rebooting restarted life in these parts.
The wind gently shook the ears of corn, as if awakening from a long sleep. The clouds floating across the sky looked thoughtfully at the field that existed under the midday sun, and completely not understanding where a blanket with a wreath of blood-red poppies appeared in the middle of the golden field.
———
song performed by Grian: Изида под покрывалом — Елена Ханпира, и Хелависа, musical "Последнее Испытание"
// english is not my native language, I hope for your understanding,,,,,,,,,,,
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which-qsmp-egg-would · 5 months
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you said tma influenced your ttrpg, what ttrpg are you playing ? :O and are you a player or a gm ? (or even both idk)
I forgot to answer this--
Its a fully homebrewed one that I really need to rework. it's nearly 3 years old now and I've only done about 4 sessions. I'm the GM, although I'm still improving my storytelling skills. I'm a fic writer, improv is NOT my strong suit.
There's a lot I've written down, and so I really want to give a very basic overview of my ideas, so I'll just throw it all below this cut and you all can ask questions if you want. But this is going to be LONG winded and probably not make any sense.
Gods:
I made too many of them, and they only really make sense to me. Lore wise, they didn't make this world. They found it. They didn't know something was here before them, and don't realise its REALLY angry that they've claimed domains and stolen its power. In terms of the gods currently in charge, we've got:
Dark and Black (2 facets of darkness, and they might just be the same dude.)
Frost, Snow, and Glacier (again, facets of Winter, might all be the same thing)
Death (fr just mumza, ill be honest)
Sky and Air (air's the winds, skys the ..sky, and also gets the trickster archetype)
Light (all my homies hate light, they're dangerous and bored)
Water (dead)
Locations (only the interesting ones):
Winter: winter trio's domain, noone can survive there.
Frozen Woods: also winter trio's domain. a snowy forest of ginormous, and i mean BIG, petrified trees. the petrification all happened at the same time, isn't that weird.
The Dark: Dark and/or Blacks domain, they fought over it a long time ago but noone knows who won. The place is surrounded by mountains and is full of glowy crystals. It also should be super cold but theres thermo vents under it and also hot springs around.
Creeping Wastes: Death's domain, but used to be Dark and/or Black's. Lore wise, it used to be part of The Dark. They share part of the mountains and its also surrounded by mountains but has a little access to the ocean. The people don't know this though, since something happened that put a blight over the entire land to the point nothing can live there. Fun!
Shrouded Peaks: Air's domain. It's a bunch of mountains that form like a horseshoe that faces out onto the ocean. Its really cool and misty there.
The Exiled: A few island off the coast of the Shrouded Peaks. Noone knows what its like over there but that's where bad people get sent. Ya know, ethically!
The Blinding Desert: Light's domain. Used to be all lush like The Wildlands (forest), but something happened and noooow its a desert. woohoo. Noone really goes there if they can help it because theres a river in the way. Beyond that is the Shores but they arnt toooo interesting right now.
Creatures:
Dark Satyrs. When Dark and Black fought over The Dark (and what's now the Wastes), the energy infested the crystals that were growing there, and the Dark Satyrs popped out! They still pop out of the glowy crystals, and the crystals grow on their bodies. That's how they denote families, too, since they aren't related by blood, but instead by vein!
Dragons: I'm not going to do my funky spelling for these for everyone's sake (Dragoens) but this pretty much where the egg's designs come from for me. they're like reptile people with no wings and feathery tails and shoulders. They were made by Air and given funky patterns and colors by Light. They live on the shrouded peaks in big groups. They can fly, even without wings, by bending the energy around them. But they think it comes from the gods specifically, so they're very religious. Oh, also they have 2 sets of horns! the top set is pretty similar to the satyr's horns, but the second set come out a bit behind the ears and curl down towards the front usually.
Ice Fairies: again, I won't do the funny spelling for you all (Faeries). They were made by the winter trio, and live in the frozen woods. They've hollowed out homes in the trunks and decorate the trees. the faries have twisty horns on the tops of their heads and big ol delicate wings on their backs. if the wings get hurt they CAN heal, but it'll come back discolored. the discoloration depends on their diet though, so they have some fun risky tattooing the do sometimes.
Stone Golems: Death got sad that it couldn't create life, so it carved some golems out of "living stone" from the Wastes. It used some left over soul material from the dead to animate them. They can't really die, but they also don't have enough of a soul to pass on if they do, so they bond their soul with another's so they can pass on with them and go back home to Death :]. Its like c!Skeppy and c!Bad, but the other way around. Stone Golems have a very close relationship with their soul bond, and can read their emotions and stuff.
There's more creatures that I'll quickly sum up, like Candles (failed creature by Light), Prisms (like a siren made of colors. by Light), Black Ice (Big monster in the sea by Dark and Glacier), Walker Wraiths/Darsite Husks (sleepwalking demon -> modified creature that took its body but really isn't all that bad if you know how it works), Shadows (lost souls because of improper reaping), Crystal Golems (long story, but the Wastes WERE a part of the Dark so you know) and definitely some more that I can't think of.
So!
Any questions :]?
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life-of-a-dinosaur · 1 year
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Current On Rotation: 06/23/23
"Euclid" by Sleep Token
It's taken me a long time to digest the album, honestly I'm still unpacking the masterpiece and the huge swings that Take Me Back To Eden took. It's unlike anything I've heard in this alternative/metal music space. But I'm also new to the metal genre.
The song that has stuck with me the most by far is the closer, "Euclid," and the track feels even more epic as it's a closer not just for this album, but for all three: Sundowning, This Place Will Become Your Tomb, and Take Me Back to Eden.
And what an epilogue this song is, from start to finish. It's almost overwhelming for me to decipher and type out as I relate so much to the song and one's personal journey overcoming an abusive relationship. Hearing Vessel finally releasing Sleep and choosing himself instead was equal parts overwhelming vulnerable and incredibly healing. I cannot imagine how he felt as a human and musician creating this song and the final chapter of this three album long story.
I honestly could write an essay for each verse of the song, but I will try and just pick my favorites.
Beginning with the second verse and the complexity of feelings after overcoming an abusive relationship. It is layered in so beautifully and to me, very meticulously. From wanting that person far from you, but also still caring for them so much that you'd bring HEAVEN to them if they couldn't find it themselves. You'd still put them first after all the hell they put you through.
"But hope to God you don't know this feeling Yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry A parallel I would lay my life on So if your wings won't find you Heaven I will bring it down like an ancient bygone"
DAMN, he'd bring salvation to them, he cares so much for them that he would literally cause the skies to fall for them. I love the use of the word "bygone," as their relationship is now a relic of the past, but also that he would gather the forces, and the power, of the past and beyond for them to see peace.
It's so powerful and confessional that he notes how similar they were, that they were on parallel paths, so of course he loved them and cannot easily let them go. There was a reason that he fell in love with them in the first place.
Then the reminiscence in the following verse and the wondering if they still think of them as the rain falls, then him admitting that he cannot see the fall leaves without remembering them. What a vulnerable admission.
"Do you remember me When the rain gathers? And do you still believe That nothing else matters?
For me It's still the autumn leaves These ancient canopies That we used to lay beneath"
You're almost like, will he go back? Does he have the rose colored glasses on? Is he lost in the nostalgia of how it was in the beginning?
But then the lyrics that were like a tidal wave of relief came through.
"The night belongs to you This bough has broken through I must be someone new
No, for me."
Jesus. I burst into tears when this part hit on my long drive in the winding canyon roads. Then I played it over and over again listening as Vessel took his power back. And I thought about all the years of work that I've done to get back to myself and I cried even more.
Then the intertwining with the repetition of the first and second verses, a copy of a copy, which is what Euclid means, as the song continues, but it's so masterful that it's not a cacophony of sound, but an unwinding of pain and love. Instead he has moved on. Instead he has chosen himself. Not the seemingly all powerful God Sleep, but himself.
The ending lines that are a callback to the opening track of Sundowning, "The Night Does Not Belong To God" with the repletion of lyrics as the song fades out was a beautiful touch and felt like a true ending of the book that was this complicated and brutal relationship.
"The whites of your eyes Turn black in the low light In turning divine And we tangle endlessly Like lovers entwined I know for the last time You will not be mine So give me the night, the night, the night."
And Now, the Night belongs again to Vessel, but it will always hold the memory of their love.
Wow. I'm crying now even as I type this out as the song plays on repeat from my laptop speakers.
I hope that if you need this song, these albums, and this band that it finds you. I hope that it brings as much healing to you as it has done for me and from what I can interpret, for Vessel as well.
Happy Spinz Everyone. <3 <3 <3
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ghostcasket · 2 years
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T for the OC Alphabet ask game?
Ok i’m gonna cheat a little bit with this one >:)
Tersekova “Kova” Martínez - they/them - 22 at time of introduction (i think. don’t quote me on that)
Ho Boy. Where to even start with Kova Martínez.
They’re another Valiersverse character, because VV has got me by the throat and has Had me by the throat for over a literal year, and they only exist because I thought @aritany’s Rehaan should have a cool partner, and then Alex was like ok bet and now their wedding is fully planned.
So Kova is majoring in mechanical engineering at UofV, because they’re a freakishly smart little goblin who likes to build things that may or may not explode. Valiers is a sort-of magical place, and Kova has some of that magic within themself, which allows them to make things that should not technically be possible to make, like little semi-sentient animatronic beasties brought to life by a combination of gears and wind-up springs and a sprinkle of magic; or a pair of Daedalus-like wings that are also sort of a jet pack. It’s very cool, they’re very cool, their workshop is absolute and utter chaos. They have built weapons that would put them on so many government watchlists so fast if said governments knew about them.
They’ve got 4 siblings, 2 younger brothers and 2 older sisters, whom they’re all on excellent terms with. Their family is hugely important to them—it was just the 5 of them and their dad for a while, Struggle Bussing after their mother went to prison for fraud and identity theft and left them with some major debts, because she sucks so much asshole and we hate her. She’s the one to blame for Tersekova, by the way.
Anyway, the idea was for them to have a sweet little coffee shop romance with Rehaan, but then because Alex and I are both absolute goblins who can’t be chill for a single second ever, we were like “what if instead of cute and fluffy this was just so fucking horrible for both of them” and, well, that’s some excellent points, can’t really argue with that, so now both of them are Suffering, Majorly. (But it’s ok because they get their happy ending. They buy a farm. Rehaan starts a veggie garden. It’s very wholesome.)
I’m gonna cut myself off here, because I could talk about this clown literally for ever, but thank you so much for the ask and the excuse to ramble!!
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evdeanwriter · 2 years
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Canvas | Original Fiction; T
Fictober prompt #1: “I choose you”
-
Trish and Seth were the coolest kids in middle school; so punk rock and not giving a damn. They chose to take Jane under their wing, the new kid, and she memorized the lyrics to all their favorite songs—some of them were like poetry, Jane liked those.
Trish helped her thrift the t-shirts with old British bands so that she could give all her goodie-two-shoes clothes to Goodwill. Seth taught her how to climb out of her window before they all snuck out to her first concert. The venue was stuffy and loud. Jane dripped in sweat and someone else’s beer, but she banged her head just like everyone else. Next time, she brought earplugs, but she never put them in.
The day Jane came back home with a mohawk on her head, mom looked like she was about to get a heart attack. Both about the hair and the stench of smoke. Jane and her best friends had shared a cigarette, while Seth was buzzing the long, mousy strands off the sides of her head. Trish used half a jar of hair gel to turn the chopped up top into thick spikes. Jane shivered when the wind grazed her bare skin.
She got grounded for the rest of the school year and half the summer. By the time August rolled in, Seth and Trish had a bunch of new friends they would be going to high school with.
Michelle was the type of girl who gets crowned the prom queen, not the type of girl who chooses to hang out with someone like Jane. But she needed help with literature classes, and Jane’s essay was loudly praised by the teacher that day. Jane didn’t mind writing two essays instead of one from then on, although making them sound like two different people was kind of tough. Still, she managed to squeeze the task in between shopping with Michelle, getting her hair bleached and nails done with Michelle, and sharing earphones with Michelle when they watched their favorite movies.
They grew inseparable and seen. When they walked down the corridor, the other students parted. Michelle taught Jane how to get perfect pics for Insta and how to flirt with the boys—but never keep them. Even when Jane got grounded for maxing out mom’s credit card, Michelle would sneak into her room through the window and tell her all the gossip from the parties she missed out on.
Until the day the only gossip everyone at school was talking about were all of Jane’s secrets she only revealed to one person, her best friend—her ex-friend—Michelle. At least, there wasn’t much school to suffer through after that, and Michelle moved to LA to become a movie star.
Gregory was like a dream. Law major, handsome, well-spoken, smart as hell. The rich family was a nice bonus, but Jane didn’t care about that. She cared that—somehow—he chose her. On their first date, he took Jane out to a fancy restaurant, the kind with big lobster tanks in the middle. She helped him throw his first charity banquet and the hundredth party on his father’s yacht. For the spring break, he took her to Hawaii, where he surfed and she sunbathed all day, and partied all night. All the girls from her classes were so jealous.
Jane’s mom was, at last, happy with Jane’s choices, because she finally found the right company, a good guy.
And she looked great too, didn’t she? With all the designer clothes and the beauty treatments Greg paid for, with those whitened teeth behind her plump lips. She had to look great; look the part. Not just some eye-candy: she had to act properly and think like a high-class woman would, too. And that’s who she was. In the end, his family grew to love her, too.
By then, Greg loved the free-spirited artist, more, the one he’d been cheating on Jane with for months. She was exciting and spontaneous, she loved poetry, too. She wasn’t proper or high-class. And, most of all, she wasn’t boring—that’s what Greg called Jane when she caught him in flagrante delicto.
Greg made Jane move out of their apartment, into some crappy place she rented with her savings.
It was hard to get used to being all alone, with nothing but Jane as company.
Because Jane is… Who is she, exactly? The heir’s bride (not) to be? The prom queen’s best friend? The punk rocker who doesn’t give a damn? Her mom’s polite, well-mannered daughter?
Looking back, it’s easy to see the string of people coming into her life and overtaking it—all of it—just as she let them. She flocked to others like a bird with no sense of direction; her own North Poles. Once her empty canvas got painted over into exactly what they wanted her to be, they got bored of her and moved on.
Only good for anything when a work in progress—and never hers.
She looks into the mirror. Who is Jane? The mousy roots peeking out from under the golden caramel dye? The puffy eyes from crying, the paling skin, and the lips slowly regaining their old shape and size? She’s shedding the latest layer of herself. Her borrowed self.
Maybe living alone for a while is not such a bad idea? Just with herself, with Jane, whoever she is. Maybe she can discover who she is when she’s not someone else’s chosen girl. She can find out what she likes.
That she likes her hair with no product in it, but a banging winged eyeliner on her face. That she prefers silence to music, and hash browns to caviar. That clothes fit her best when they suit her mood, not her singular identity.
“I choose you,” she says to her reflection in the mirror, feeling only a little awkward. A small smile blooms on her face. “I choose myself.”
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soufsidesiren · 1 year
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blog entry 5: misty rain
today was quite a full day. a full three parter. this morning i woke up around 8am. helped my grandmother get ready for her morning for the first time in a while (a task my father seldom leaves to anyone other than himself). cooked breakfast for my family and did the dishes while i played a jazz vinyl set on yt which is later exchanged for let's make a deal followed by the price is right as is typical for the 10 and 11oclock hours at home. a ton of seemingly menial tasks, but i really found such joy the routine of it all today. it reminded me of the mornings i used to spend in my apartment in los angeles, the only difference was being able to share these moments with my family.
i don't know why but i felt particularly sentimental about my drive to babysit today. maybe because its probably my last time for a while seeing my little angel with such regularity. honestly the fifty-minute drive across town has gotten me way more comfortable with driving and spending time in the car than i could have otherwise anticipated. between the phone calls catching up with friends and new playlists, albums, and djs the car has become a very comforting and intimate quasi third space for me. a misty rain glazed my windows as flew down 75 and for the first time i actually noticed the leaves beginning to change. my typical route now spotted with hues of muted red and yellows nestled between the usual expansive stretches of seemingly endless green. atlanta. my city in the forest. slowly peeks between trees and over hills finally revealing her damped silhouette above the tree line like the castle of the final boss. i have come to learn and love the winds and hills that hide her away for safekeeping.
today was a short day with the little one. i arrived around noon put him down for his nap then woke him after two. because of the rain, there was no park visit today. instead we spent the afternoon exploring the pages of a new book i found yesterday in closet. he has really been enjoying identifying the animals and colors on each page. after a bit of reading, we had lunch. it been really beautiful to watch his appetite grow and his willingness to try new foods expand under my care. while i don't think i can take credit for it, it has been nice to witness regardless. then it was time for me to go, and as if he knew i was leaving for a while my little one gave me a long embrace unlike his usual indifference to my going. today he nestled his cheek up against mine and said "bye bye.. domgameek" oh i will miss the innocent butchering of my name.
then back on the road. sounds sponsored by a friend's dj set. i love the way they put music together and this summer set still plays incredibly through this vivid fall day. i weather through traffic and don't mind to much as it gives me time to enjoy the rain and music all to myself.
then at home. my mother and grandmother hurry out the door for a concert. leaving me, my father, and brother to our own devices. my mother has left the chicken out for me to make dinner. a task that my father is surprised she has entrusted to me and that i so readily obliged. oh, the role of the eldest daughter. i feed myself and tidy my things. find a good playlist and get to the task. part three of my day has begun and honestly, i still enjoy the labor. i catch up with my father. share with him all the fun things i've found this week and that i've started a blog on tumblr. "is tumblr still a thing" he says "to me it is" i reply. "i used to have tumblr. it was good for pictures". i don't inquire about what types, but my father is an enigma that never ceases to surprise me. he eventually returns to his room leaving me to my work. i season the wings my mother has left for me and let them marinade until eventually throwing them into the air fryer. i start work on a playlist i'd been meaning to finish since i found the opening track after being inspired by all the good listening of the day. a call from a friend on the road breaks my temporary solitude. i've missed their voice and stories. their experience is a source of constant inspiration to me. grateful for the call. we catch up for what never feels like long enough. i finish with the evening an edible, a bit of yoga and now here i am writing.
this has been my most thorough entry yet, nothing particularly remarkable happened but i wanted the day to exist as richly as i experienced it. until tomorrow
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finelinevogue · 3 years
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he’s so vogue
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Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue
A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!
warnings: swearing
[masterlist]
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Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.
Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.
That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.
Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".
This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.
Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.
You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.
Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.
"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.
This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    
"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.
"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.
"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.
You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.
After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.
Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.
It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.
But it was still bloody freezing.
You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.
The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.
You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.
It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.
"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.
You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.
"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 
Perfect.
He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.
"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.
"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.
"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.
"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.
"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.
"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."
"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.
"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.
"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.
"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.
You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.
The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.
Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.
It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.
You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.
"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.
"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.
"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.
"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.
"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.
"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.
"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.
"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.
"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.
"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."
"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.
"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.
Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.
"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.
"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.
"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.
"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.
                                                            ••••
You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.
Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.
Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.
"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.
"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.
Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.
"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.
"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.
He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.
You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.
"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.
"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.
"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.
The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.
You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.
You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...
You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.
"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.
"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.
You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.
"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.
"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.
"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.
"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.
"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.
"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.
"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.
"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."
"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.
"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"
Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.
You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.
"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.
"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.
"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.
"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.
"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.
"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.
"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.
For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.
"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.
"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.
"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.
"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.
"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .
"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.
He was amazing though - that was the truth.
"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.
"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.
"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).
"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.
"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.
"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.
"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.
"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.
"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"
"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.
"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.
"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.
"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.
"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.
"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.
"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.
"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.
"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.
"You still see them often?" 
"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.
"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.
"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.
"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.
This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.
"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.
"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.
"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.
"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.
"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.
"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.
"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"
"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.
"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.
He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.
Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.
"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.
"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.
"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."
"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.
"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.
"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 
"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.
"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?
"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.
"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.
"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.
"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.
"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.
"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.
Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
                                                          ••••
After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.
You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.
You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.
You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.
You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.
Today had been a good day.
Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.
People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.
"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.
"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.
"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.
Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.
Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.
The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.
Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.
You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.
Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.
"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.
"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.
"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.
"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.
"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."
Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.
The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.
"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.
"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.
"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"
"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.
"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.
"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.
"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.
"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.
"Sorry I didn't mean to—"
"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.
"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 
You couldn't wait to be in love with him.
"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.
"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.
Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.
"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.
"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.
You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.
Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.
                                                             ••••
A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.
It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.
Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.
Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.
You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.
It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.
And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.
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korruptbrekker · 2 years
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whats the series that you’re so excited about? i dunno anything abt it but you seem v happy and now im interested /gen
Why thank you for asking, I've been itching to rant more about this series. :D
infodump mode: activate
The series is called A Court of Fey and Flowers, and it's a D&D actual play show, like Critical Role or Fantasy High. This show is actually produced by the same company who made Fantasy High and even has some returning players, plus the Fantasy High DM is a player now too which is fantastic.
The premise is the players are all fey of high status attending the Bloom, this big event thet happens every few millennia that celebrates all fey magic. It's D&D but make it fey and regency and I fucking love it.
There are combats here and there, but most of the game is made up of intelligence and deception roles with an emphasis on role playing over combat. The players even have reputation markers that change with each session that mark what the general elite fey think of the characters. It's absolutely amazing and I love it.
Before I move onto characters I do want to note that, though the first episode of this series is on YouTube (check out Dimension 20 on YouTube to find it) the rest of the show is only available on a streaming service called Dropout. At least that's where I watch it. It's only $6.00 a month, but I understand that even that is a lot for some folks (I use a friend's account), so I just wanted to put that out there just in case folks are interested.
Now! 👏 Onto the characters!
Captain K.P. Hob of the Goblin Court: Hob is played by Brennan Lee Mulligan and is a 7ft tall, furry goblin military man tasked with protecting the Lord Blemish and Lady Boil of the goblin court. Hob follows honour codes to a T, which is an issue when goblins are all about mischief and mayhem. But he tries, and he's tall and strong, so the Lords Blemish and Boil keep him around.
Prince Anhera of the Unseelie Court: This poor boy is played by Omar Najam and has lived in caves their whole life and his mother is a strong gust of wind, literally. So when he's tossed into high society to represent the Unseelie court he's very much out of his depth. Previously known as Pillar Boy, Andhera is just trying to make it through the Bloom without fucking up too much. They're kind of succeeding.
Lady Chirp Featherfowl of the Wing, Countess of Cluckingham: The House of the Wing is the only house that has yet to be turned into a court, and they intend to stay that way. Lady Chirp, played by Emily Axford, much like her cousin, is a party animal. She loves going on drugged benders and enjoys bedding every pretty fey that walks by. But when her grandfather declares she must find a lovematch, her days of partying are jerked to a halt and she must turn her attention to finding one to wed instead.
Lord Squak Airavis of the Wing, Earl of Peckersburg: Lord Squak, played by Lou Wilson, is also tasked to find a love match. He still finds ways to stir up trouble, but after a bet is made by all those in attendance of the Bloom that the Lords of the Wing will not behave themselves, he's careful to do everything in private. So far he has yet to be caught, but whether it will stay that was has yet to be seen.
Gwendolyn Thistle-Hop of the Court of Wonder: Gwen, played by Surena Marie, is the sister of the Blue Fairy who turned Pinocchio into a real boy. Gwen was invited to the Bloom in her sister's stead because she's friends with the delivery fey. But she knows nothing about high fey customs; she's blunt and stumbling and cleary is not meant to be there. All she has to do is stay under the radar, and so far she's not doing so great on that.
Delloso de la Rue of the Court of Seafoam: Rue, played by Oscar Montoya, is a picture of perfection. Stunning long hair and outfits serving looks every day of the Bloom. They've been planning this event for millennia, and naturally everything is perfect. But when they start to catch feelings for a certain captain, everything starts to fall apart. Now they have to decide whether or not it's worth it to be true to themself.
This campaign started out as rich people talking and has turned into a story of façades and yearning and drama and it's absolutely amazing. I highly recommend checking it out if you can, it's so cool and isn't even halfway done yet.
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