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curatoroffiction · 2 years

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What You’ve Hidden Part 2

This is a continuation of a story I started writing in response to a post made here. (Which is where you’ll find Part 1 of this story) This is based off of @underqualified-human’s post on their “? Yuu AU” concept, and was really fun to write! I definitely love harassing Crowley. I know I write a lot of anti-Crowley propaganda, but I fuckin’ love his character. He’s such a slimeball and I love it. XD Storytime stops before Idia’s chapter because it hasn’t been released to the English version yet.

----- Story is reader-insert, gender-neutral, and is also a continuation of an existing chunk of story I already wrote. The boys discuss how much they really know the Ramshackle Prefect. That is, until the prefect arrives on the scene and begins to explain themself.

----- The conversation quickly moved from a lighthearted conversation about the Ramshackle prefect to a cautious journey embarking through the group's delicate notions of trust.

"I don't buy it - ___ can't lie. They're too honest." Ruggie shrugs. He's never seen you lie in a way that mattered. You were always so straightforward with him and everyone else in Savannaclaw, even when it probably would've benefitted you to lie. "They're not a goody two-shoes, but they sure aren't about to pull off a scheme."

Jamil on the other hand is now rethinking everything he knows about you. "On the contrary, I've found them to be quite.. Crafty, when they needed to be." He shakes his head thinking back to how you so easily would sneak out of containment prior to his overblot. How you could escape and even collect help. He starts connecting the dots on how you always seem to know just where to look or who to talk to in order to collect help. One could say it's fate, but it was hard for him to believe in fate after meeting you.

"... They *are* capable of lying.. Lying well, at that.." Riddle murmurs, not comfortable with the conversation's route, but incapable of stopping himself from treading into these waters as people talk more about it. "When Ace and Deuce want something kept hidden, they're very good at hiding things from people." His brow furrows as he thinks on the last dorm inspection.

"Well that at least tells us they're loyal to their friends!" Kalim smiles big, refusing to fret. "And that's all I need to know to enjoy their company."

"Are they loyal to their friends? Or are they just loyal to their resources?" Azul once again steers the conversation into the depths.

"Friends! If they were just looking for power, they wouldn't have helped Ace and Deuce when they got in trouble with you, right?" Kalim cocks his head to the side, looking to Azul with genuine confusion. It wasn't hard to imagine what motivated you in his eyes.

"Mmm.. I'm not so sure about that." Jade starts delving into this thought exercise. "Through those two, ___ got a chance to interact with Riddle, which dragged him into their scuffle with Leona - Which was the primary reason it wasn't a disaster. Leona helped with Azul, Azul helped with Jamil, Jamil helped with Vil, and so on..." Many of the dormleaders had never heard of the intertwining threads of their interactions with the prefect, or how perfectly it all seemed to meld together.

This starts to garner some genuine concern, causing even Malleus and Kalim to think on the coincidental nature. It's a little too perfect.

The guys are quiet as they feel themselves consumed with the idea that you might actually be a complete stranger. Someone who has come so close to them all, snaking your way in with ulterior motives. However, they each process the concept very differently.

Riddle just flat out refuses to believe it. He thinks Azul's being paranoid and that you'd have no real reason to lie to him. And even if his overblot put you off from him, you'd have no real reason to lie to Ace and Deuce. No, Azul's the one being paranoid here, and he won't get dragged down with it.

Trey feels like it's a nonsense consideration. Even if you weren't genuine when you first met everyone here, you surely warmed up with time - Isn't that just how being a social person works? No one puts all their cards out on the table without reason. He's got no reason to doubt you.

Leona on the other hand, lets his mind dance on the edge of the idea. He'd seen firsthand how you can change your tune if you need or want to. You're not above forcing people's hands, but.. You also don't really subscribe to the "Work smarter not harder" mantra that it really takes to scheme. You put too much effort into the things you do to be someone who isn't, on some level, genuine. Still, he underestimated you once, and doesn't make mistakes like that twice.

Ruggie on the other OTHER hand figures there's no reason to worry. Hell, he's fake as hell when he wants to be. As far as he's concerned, everyone's got a grift, and it'd be nice to hear you had one too. Even if your friendship was founded on a lie, he doesn't care. You've never treated him like he owed you, and you saved his life from Leona lashing out at him. As far as he's concerned, that makes you someone worthy of respect at the least.

Jade himself doesn't really care either which way. He likes you and is amused by you, but whether you value him as a friend or not matters very little to him. If he wants to deal with you, he will. He doesn't need an invitation or prior rapport. Still, he likes to think he knows you well. Even if he doesn't know your real name, he knows how to poke and prod you to get desired responses, and at the end of the day, isn't that enough?

Kalim's bothered by the prospect. He shakes his head outright refusing to even consider a world where you were disingenuous. Still, his mind thinks on Jamil. Someone he's held dear to his heart since he was a very young child was able to fool him and use him and control him. ... He doesn't like the idea that there could be secrets you keep from him. Still, if you do have secrets, maybe there's a good reason for it. Maybe you're afraid? Or you just need a safe place to open up? Maybe he just needs to be a better friend.

Jamil furrows his brow in thought. He'd overlooked you once, only to be surprised, and much like Leona, he doesn't make that mistake twice. But unlike Leona, he has to care as far as Kalim's wellbeing is concerned. He doesn't think you'd ever do anything to hurt Kalim, considering you once tracked him down to give him treasure that Kalim tried to sneak to you. If you were in it for the money, you'd have never done that. Plus, there were plenty of times that you could have hurt Kalim by now and you didn't. If you were some kind of physical threat, you'd have struck by now. But if it's a power grab, what kind of power triumphs over money?

Vil's not intensely bothered by the idea of you using every tool in your arsenal to collect strength. If you really were so quietly calculated, it'd be something to applaude. A fake smile here, a warm grin there, you're bound to make useful connections. It's no surprise to him that you were able to make useful connections that echoed forward. He finds himself annoyed with Azul's persistence on the matter, figuring that Azul himself has been bothered by this and is now trying to make it everyone else's problem. People often try to project their insecurities onto the people around them.

Rook on the other hand is delighted at the prospect. If you suddenly showed yourself to have a side that even he couldn't see coming, what a rush that would give! Maybe he should poke and prod you more. Maybe he needs to test the waters and see what really makes you tick? People often let the most real facets of themselves surface under pressure..

Idia already had like 20 fears centered around dealing with people going into this conversation - Most of which had to do with them lying to him already. This machiavelean web of social warfare that Azul is painting just gives him a headache. It's like when the business man thinks he's onto something in boardgame club and just won't relent. Idia may not have a high social self esteem, but he knows Azul well enough to not let this get under his skin. At least, that's what he tells himself. It's hard to not be bothered by the idea, but he won't get taken for one of Azul's wild rides.

Ortho's only bothered by this line of conversation because it implies that you could lie in a way that tricks his censors - And that just isn't like you at all! But any attempt to protect your good name is just met with Azul shrugging and saying 'Anything is possible, I suppose.'

Malleus is the only one who is really torn asunder by this conversation. At first, he was offended that anyone could think that way about you, being your fiercest protector in the matter, but then it hit him that you've always been a bit weird. You've never been scared of him - Was that an act? How could he ever really know? He knew he wasn't just a means to an end, but he had no clue if you befriended him genuinely or not. Did you really not know who he was when you met? Or was that a ploy? Whatever the case could be, he's gutted at the idea that you could be anything less than a friend.

Lilia isn't bothered by the idea. He pretends to be someone he isn't all the time. It's good fun! Even people who've spent their lives hiding their true selves in favor of a false self give away truths. He is, however, bothered by the dark look on Malleus' face coupled by the thunder of the rolling clouds outside. "I mean, everyone has something to hide, don't they, Azul?" His tone is more pointed, as though he'd uncover Azul's secrets for all to see if he answers incorrectly.

A shiver runs down Azul's spine at Lilia's sharper gaze, surprising him with the reaction. ".... Yes, but when someone knows all of our secrets, shouldn't we get to know at least SOME of their's?" He looks to the others to back him up, but isn't getting much help.

He can't be the only one bothered by this, right?

---

The group is deep in thought when you arrive. You step into the room and all eyes are on you. Grim gulps from your shoulder, looking at all the staring eyes. Even he can't ignore the palpable energy of the room. ".. Did we miss somethin'?" He asks tentatively.

Azul takes the lead, snaking his way beside you with a big smile. "Of course not! We were just discussing how we don't seem to know anything about you, ___. Tell us about yourself?"

You take a glance around the room, which seems to confirm Azul's claim that the room is waiting for you to talk about yourself. "...." You blink. ".. What do you wanna know?"

"Well, your name, where's it come from? What's it mean? Tell us about it."

Your eyes narrow as you look at the businessman, who laughs off your suspicions. With Azul, there's always an angle. They must've had a bet about your name. Your eyes relax as you look around the room of your friends. Riddle looks annoyed with the octopus man. Trey gives a quiet shrug like 'I dunno why this guy is being weird'. Leona looks more annoyed with Azul than he does with you, but Ruggie seems interested in hearing you explain your answer. Azul is frevently awaiting an answer, Jade making his biggest creepiest smile to the side as his eyes won't budge from you. Kalim looks somewhere between distressed and excited. Jamil looks like he's trying his hardest to look indifferent, but you know by the way he glances at you that he's invested in your answer.

Vil actually moves to shoo Azul away from your shoulder as he takes over the conversation. "Azul's been 'kind' enough to express that we don't know much about you or where you came from. You came here so abruptly, and you had so little to your name in ways of protection. It's still an amazing mystery to us as to how you adapted so well." Quite the improv actor, Vil smoothly transitions you into the conversation with the grace of a socialite. While he's not bothered by the idea of you being cunning and cutthroat, he IS bothered by the idea that Azul might slip up and make it appear as though the entire group is worried. Besides, any chance to get to know you better is a gift.

Rook smiles delightedly as Vil takes over. If there's anything you're hiding, they'll surely be able to sense it. "Ah yes, Trickster, you fascinate with how otherworldly you are! Please tell us more about yourself. How DID you acclimate so well?"

Idia feels sick to his stomach. More social nonsense is piling up. And on the one day Ortho convinced him to come in-person to one of these meetings. He can't just check out and play a game as things are heating up, so he's stuck just looking visually awkward and avoiding your gaze. Ortho looks determined, but happy to see you. He waved when you first came in, which signaled everyone that you were there in the first place. Now that things are getting weird, he's just excited to have a chance to monitor your vitals while you're under questioning, so he can prove to the others that you're not lying.

If you're lying, he'll know.

Malleus looks like he's stuck in his own head and upset over something. Deep in thought - When he finally looks to you, his eyes melt a little and the storm temporarily relaxes. Lilia's more concerned with how strong Malleus' reaction to this than whatever you could possibly hide from them. He does find it amusing that he could scare Azul with just a judgemental glance though, and files that away as something fun to do if the young octopus man's antics cause Malleus or you grief. He's got thousands of years of judgemental dad looks stashed away for such an occasion.

"Well, uh.." You're not sure what question to answer, so you just answer Vil's because he's less creepy about it. "I just did what I could to survive. I'm as surprised as anyone that I've been able to last this long." And it's true - Everything you've done has been on the fly. Ever since arriving in Wonderland, you've found yourself in increasingly strange circumstances. You shrug, sorry that you don't have a better answer.

"But surely, you must have had something - Skills you've relied on, plans you've laid out. Things that helped you survive through the messes you've encountered?" This time, it's Rook speaking up, trying to coax more out of you.

"Not really, no. I showed up and had a flaming monster thrown at me, I held him up by the scruff of his neck and Crowley dubbed me as his handler. I was given a job as a janitor, and I'd have done it just fine, but Grim wasn't having it and threw a fit. We got in trouble for it and got a bigger workload with Ace. Then he dragged Deuce into the mess and we all got expelled.." You recount your first week here at Night Raven College.

No one ever really heard the story of what happened when you got here before.

You were a janitor? Crowley didn't let you be a student? But you came through the mirror! You couldn't even go home! The frustration of the fear that you're anything but genuine slowly bubbles away as they begin to find themselves annoyed with Crowley and his handling of the situation.

"If I got expelled, Crowley was gonna throw me out, and I had nothing, so I had to do what he told me to in order to stick around. We went to the mines, fought an overblot monster that seemed ancient, and got a magestone to replace the one we broke. From there, I was pretty ride or die for Ace and Deuce." You shrug.

Azul isn't having it though. "That explains why you got involved when they had trouble with Riddle, by why did you get involved when Savanaclaw was scheming?" He won't forget that you've somehow endeared everyone here to you.

"Crowley showed up at my door and told me to figure out why students were getting hurt. When I told him 'Nah', he blackmailed me with my food budget."

The room's stunned to silence.

".... Crowley.. *blackmailed* you?" Riddle's the first to speak up, and he's appalled and pissed. That whole ordeal was incredibly dangerous! He knew Crowley was slimy from time to time, but you didn't even have magic! That goes against several regulations!

"With your food budget no less.." Trey looks disturbed. Ruggie's big grin from earlier is gone.

You shrugged once again, desensitized to the idea. "I didn't want to get involved, but then I had to."

None of them can sense a lie off of you, but they're all listening attentively. They need to know more. How do the threads of fate connect you to them?

"What about after that? You didn't really need to help Ace and Deuce when Azul's plans came to fruition." Jade now speaks up, curious. "Surely, if you were scraping to survive at that point, it would have been easier to just ignore and let them fall to their own stupidity. It would even be a great lesson for them, yes?"

"I wasn't gonna get involved that time either - You're right, they deserved a lesson. Even Grim got in trouble there, but I was so tired at that point."

"So what happened??" Kalim asks eagerly, moving closer to listen, like his ears can't hear you if he can't see you well enough.

"Crowley again. Said faculty couldn't get involved because Azul wasn't technically breaking any rules, and he needed the problem fixed. Once again, I told him no and he threatened my housing security."

Malleus' eyes narrow. The storm outside is slowly building again, but this time for a very different reason. Azul feels sheepish. At every turn, you were being threatened and forced into involving yourself in the lives of the other students. So then why were you still so friendly? Ortho's eyes have gotten frustrated at the idea of what you're telling them. He's visibly upset. Rook is stone silent as you have every ounce of his attention.

"And with Jamil..?" Ruggie jabs a thumb in the direction of the long-haired boy from the sands.

"Crowley told me I had to keep the school's heating running while everyone was away, and I barely was able to remind him to get me food for the winter break. Even then, he held it as a reward I had to earn. He gave me a cellphone in case there was an emergency, but the damn thing was on the worst possible plan, and he never picked up when I called him. Kalim invited us to the dorm for a feast, and Grim and I were so hungry that I decided to let him treat us. When we got there, we got roped into everything.."

"But you escaped. You could have just stayed away at that point." Jamil finally speaks up, remembering the events. He's embarrassed by his actions, but he needs to know why you came back.

You throw a thumb towards Azul. "Yeah, but I only escaped because I accidentally flew the magic carpet into Octavinelle, and Azul made me take him back because he had his own agenda. I didn't wanna be indebted to him for the damage the carpet did, and I didn't trust him enough to return the carpet safely, so I begrudgingly obliged and got roped into bullshit again."

Azul looks embarrassed as once again the attention's all on him. This conversation is more exposing him for his shady bullshit than you for yours.

Luckily, he's saved by Vil speaking up once again; "With my.. incident - You were pushed into it by Crowley again, yes?"

"Yeah. Your troupe needed a place to stay, and my dorm was the only one equipped for it. I wanted to stay as far out of your way as possible, but it was kind of impossible when I was named as the manager and you knew where I slept. You whipped everyone into shape, and even pushed me to do my best, lest I find my snacks.. uh.."

"Tampered with as punishment." Jamil nods, remembering the spell Vil had been using. You were in a tough situation, and once again you made the call that allowed you your best chance of survival.

---

Before you can explain anything further, a familiar voice can be heard.

---

"Hello my gracious students! Thank you all for coming to this meeting!" Crowley has finally arrived. Half an hour late. He opens his eyes from his delight to find several people staring at him with malice. He blinks and gulps down his nerves. "... I seem to have missed something." ----- If you like stories like this, check out the rest of my collection in my Masterlist on my profile, or check out my stuff on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuratorOfFiction

#Fiction #Fanfiction #Writing #Writing from other people's posts #Twisted Wonderland #Twst #disney's twisted wonderland #Reader Insert #Reader-Insert #Gender Neutral MC #GN MC #Gender Neutral Main Character #Gender Neutral Reader

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 year

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Sugar and Spice: Part 1

(E.M. x Fem!Reader x S.H.) Part 2 Series Masterlist.

Summary: Steve has massive crush on you, Eddie’s childhood bestfriend who just came home from collage. The only problem is you despised him in highschool and he’s pretty sure Eddie’s in love with you.

Warnings: Eventual smut, pining, love triangle, no upside down, eventual steddie x reader, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, fluff, no use of Y/N so definitely a billion pet names. There’s not really any for this chapter, it’s mostly setting the scene for the rest of the story. Mentions of sex and some swearing. I will add additional warnings each chapter! But still my work is always 18+MNDI

A/N: Okay I found this in my docs and I was reading over it and got inspired to keep writing it. I’ve had this idea in my head for a long time about a Reader who has a kind of like pastel goth type of aesthetic. Like she plays D&D and loves horror but also really loves chick flicks and pink. She listens to Black Sabbath but then will turn around and listen to Blondie in the same 10 minutes. Collects Care Bears but has read every Anne Rice book. I feel like both Eddie and Steve would lose their minds over that. There will be no physical descriptions of reader besides the outfits she wears, which will be things like big chunky goth boots and fuzzy pink sweaters. Ngl it’s kinda self indulgent of me but I hope there’s others who can relate to her.🤭 divider I used is by: @firefly-graphics

Steve wasn’t obsessed with you, at least he tried to convince himself that was the case. He hadn’t seen you since you graduated and moved to the city. But ever since you’ve been back it’s like he sees you everywhere. You come into his work sometimes and rent horror movies, or on rare occasions you rent something totally cute and left-field like The Little Mermaid. You wore outfits that were somehow the hottest and cutest thing he’s ever seen at once, his favorite he’s ever seen you in was this short little black skirt and a pink button up cardigan that you replaced the buttons with little skulls all brought together by the big platform boots you’re usually wearing. That contrast just made him more infatuated with you. You were like sugar and spice wrapped up in one really beautiful girl.

But there were TWO major problems, one being that you hated him In highschool. He was an arrogant asshole who thought he was better than everyone, could do whatever he wanted and looked down on the kind of people you hung around. You were pretty quiet but outspoken and opinionated when you wanted to be, kept close to the few friends you had and always had your head in some kind of horror or vampire book that Steve would definitely not understand but would’ve totally listened to you talk about all day just to hear you talk about something you loved. He always thought you were pretty, even in highschool when you used to dress a lot more reserved. Mostly ripped jeans, the occasional Care Bears tee, and shirts of bands he didn’t know. He even asked you out once Junior year before he got with Nancy and you laughed in his face and said “yeah fucking right Harrington, good one” But now? You’re always wearing those little mini skirts, low cut tank tops, and ripped up fishnets. Steve literally feels like he can’t think around you.

Which brings him to problem number two…Eddie. You and Eddie are bestfriends and have been since middle school, he’s part of the reason you never liked Steve because of the way he and his friends treated Eddie. Even though Steve was never directly mean to YOU, his friends were and that was enough. But Steve and Eddie had a recently developed… acquaintanceship due to their mutual friendship with Dustin. It took some time and convincing but once they got past their preconceived notions of each other they were able to be civil. Eddie being in the group meant when you came back naturally you were integrated in as well. Which means Steve has seen you in an actual social setting multiple times now.

You think that would be great, right? Wrong. Eddie was constantly touching you. Holding your hand, putting his arms around your waist, you sitting IN HIS LAP. It drove Steve fucking crazy, especially because he knows that Eddie loves you and he feels just a little bad about it because he had actually started to really like Eddie and maybe even began to see him as a friend. But seeing him all over you drove him insane and made him have a bad taste in his mouth every time he heard his name. He was pretty sure you loved Eddie. The way you looked at him and the gentle way you handled him and spoke to him like he wasn’t the resident metalhead drug dealer but a giant teddy bear that needed to be hugged and cared for.

Steve would’ve given up in an instant if you said you were Eddie’s girl, but you always said you guys were bestfriends despite the fact that Eddie definitely called you his girl on multiple occasions to the entire group. You definitely had feelings for him. He could see it but there was also something keeping you from making it official and that gave Steve hope. Especially once you warmed up to him and started sitting on HIS lap sometimes. You would just come and plop down across his knees looking at him all sweet like it was the most casual thing and you didn’t just make his brain short circuit. You started calling him cute little pet names and kissing his cheek every time you saw him.

Again, these things would all be fantastic IF you didn’t do all the same things and more with Eddie. Every time you sat on Eddie’s lap he literally wanted to rip you off of him and kiss you right in front of Eddie’s smug face. He was always smirking at Steve over your shoulder because he knew Steve liked you. He confronted him about it last week when they were at the arcade with Dustin and Mike.

“So. You like her don’t you?” Eddie just asked him out of the blue. Steve looked at him with a confused look on his face not really registering what he meant at first “Huh? Like who?”

“Don’t play dumb man, you know who I’m talking about” Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes

“Why would you think she would ever like you back? You treated us like shit in highschool and just because she’s more confident and can stand to be in the same room as you, now you want her? Fuck that. She deserves better than that, she is so much more than how she looks.”

Steve was kind of taken back at first, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong “You don’t think I know that Munson? I don’t just like her because she’s hot. She also has this confidence and energy about her that’s just really attractive. She’s fucking funny and not afraid to be herself. She’s got that whole sugar and spice thing going on where she’s so sweet and gentle one second and the next she’s cussing like a sailor going off on these cute little tangents. I thought we established I’m not the guy I was in highschool anymore. I’m not some player trying to go through women. I like her.” he kind of didn’t mean to say ALL of that but it just kept coming out once he started talking about you he couldn’t help it.

“Okay I get it, you actually like her. Either way she’s never going to go for you, you aren’t even her type.” He grabbed the sleeve of Steve’s bright blue crew neck “I’ve never seen her be into a pretty boy like you, she likes dudes who look like they’re part of the lost boys clan or the dudes she sees on MTV.”

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes “Sooo, you then? If you love her so much then why aren’t you with her?” Eddie flushed and his face fell slightly “because man, she’s the most important person in my life. Imagine if we got together for real and then we broke up? Things wouldn’t be the same between us, I might lose her entirely”

“When you say ‘for real’ what does that mean?” Steve asked him, hoping it didn’t mean what he thought it meant.

“I mean we do a lot of couple things, we go on bestfriend dates, we are super affectionate with each other, we fuck sometimes, but both of us are scared if we decided to be together for real it would ruin it” Eddie shrugged like he didn’t just metaphorically punch Steve in the chest with that information.

“So what? Are you guys exclusive or what? Because if you’re not, I’m going to ask her out.” Steve just shrugged trying to play it off.

“Dude. Are you seriously going to ask out my girl after what I just said!?”

“Yeah, DUDE. You just said she wasn’t yours so is she or isn’t she?”

“Now that I finally have you around without Eddie I can ask the question I’ve been dying to ask, what’s the deal with you two? Are you like, together?” Robin suddenly asked you out of the blue.

Her and Nancy finally convinced you to have a girls day with them. You went and got mani pedis and picked up lunch so you could eat it back at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment while you watched some movies Robin got from work.

“I mean… Technically? No. You could say we are like bestfriends with benefits I guess? We have kind of been fooling around off and on since sophomore year of highschool when we lost our virginity to each other.”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

“Yeah Robin, I’m okay with it. We decided a long time ago that us being together for real wasn't really an option. Imagine if we broke up? I couldn’t handle losing him.” You bit your lip, just the thought of losing Eddie made you anxious.

Now you had Nancy curious “So have you ever been with anyone else? Or are you guys like exclusive friends with benefits? Because if you’ve only ever been with him I’d say you’re pretty much together anyways.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve had hookups and flings, so has Eddie. I had a few guys I went on a couple dates with when I was gone at school but I’ve never had an actual relationship really. Neither has he.”

“So you’re telling us, you’ve been fucking on and off and on for almost EIGHT YEARS, never had a real relationship, and yet you guys still aren’t actually together? Don’t you think that’s maybe the reason neither of you have ever had a relationship? You’re stuck on each other?” Nancy, always the voice of reason.

“I absolutely know that’s why, I compare every guy to Eddie and no one has measured up. He treats me like a princess, why would I want a boyfriend who treats me anything less than that?” You shrugged and took another bite of your egg roll.

“Okay but what about when you do find that person? Or he does? What then? Things will change either way.” Robin questioned. She had her own reasons for bringing this all up in the first place. She knew Steve liked you, and he made her promise not to mettle but just asking if you were single isn’t meddling, right?

“I don’t know Robin, we’ve never talked about it. We will cross that bridge when the time comes.” You hoped they would let it go after that. It’s not that you necessarily didn’t want to talk about your relationship with Eddie, it’s just whenever anyone brings up that it probably has an eventual expiration date you feel like your whole world is crashing down.

“So there’s really no one you’ve ever thought you really really liked?” Okay, maybe she was reaching meddling territory now.

“Nope. Never. Can we just watch dirty dancing now?”

You didn’t feel like elaborating more than that, especially since recently there was someone you’d started to like. It was confusing and very much against your will but you had started to develop a small crush on Steve. You tried really hard to give him the cold shoulder when you first got back, you spent years with feelings of animosity towards him but if even Eddie could give him another chance you figured you could too. Then of course he had to be just so sweet, and such a gentleman, always telling you that you looked pretty and he smelled so good. It honestly made you want to punch him in the face. Or kiss him. Or both.

Robin narrowed her eyes at you but decided to drop it for now, even though she could tell there was definitely something you weren’t telling them with how quickly you decided to change the subject.

“Yeah okay, let’s watch the movie. But I’m not letting this go forever.”

“I didn’t even think for a second that you would.” You laughed and pressed play on the VHS.

Your love life wasn’t brought up anymore after that but that didn’t keep you from thinking about it. What would happen if Eddie got a girlfriend? You and him were never exclusive but the thought of him actually loving someone made you feel sick. Did he feel the same way? You hoped he did. Does that mean you want things with him to be exclusive? You’d never really allowed yourself to have those thoughts but now you were starting to wonder.

Then there was Steve, who just added to your confusion. Something about him just drew you to him, even back in highschool when you felt nothing but negative feelings toward him it was like he was everywhere you looked. Maybe you always had a small crush on him but would’ve never in a million years admitted it to yourself back then. It’s not like you would’ve ever had a chance, he treated everyone like you like dirt under his shoe. He never bullied you directly but him picking on your friends was enough to tell you how he probably felt about you too. Then you remember that one time Junior year when he asked you out, did he actually mean it? The thought that he might like you made your insides heat up and you felt like one of those girls you used to make fun of in highschool for swooning over him.

Robin could practically see the gears turning in your head, it was very obvious you weren’t watching the movie at all and she knew she told Steve she wouldn’t involve herself but she just had this feeling…

“You like Steve don’t you?” Robin’s voice snapped you out of your cycle of spiraling thoughts and you whipped your head around to look at her.

“What!?”

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #steddie x fem!reader

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sugugasm · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 - toji fushiguro

· ₊ ⊹ SYNOPSIS — toji knows just how to get back at your ex.

「❀」 pairing : toji fushiguro x black fem! reader

「❀」 content warning : minors do not interact ! dad’s bestfriend toji, age gap ꒰ toji is forty and reader is in her late twenties ꒱ missionary, fingering, use of the word bitch - during sex - just once, use of pet names such as ꒰ sweetheart, pretty, slut ꒱

「❀」 word count : 3.6K whoop whoop !!

「❀」 author’s note : hiii !!! here’s me re-uploading this edited version of tastiest revenge - apart of my friendship is magic series - bc tumblr took it down the first time :/ i wanted to put out the gojo fic first but due to school starting, i realized how busy i’ve become :0 please enjoy & interactions n reblogs are always loved <33

you were taken aback when toji answered your call. not only was the time 10:56 PM, but it was also the middle of the week. you ought to been fast asleep in your apartment by now, getting a good night's rest for whatever the world had in store for you tomorrow. but, alas, you were slouching on toji fushiguro's porch, your clothes drenched from the light rain and your makeup smeared from all the tears you'd let fall down your pretty face.

toji stands up from his recliner and looks around before hurriedly opening the door. his heart nearly bursts from your change in vigor. the hesitant, kindhearted disposition you always possessed seems to have been lost just about now; you have a slight pout on your face and stare up at him with imploring eyes.

he swiftly draws you into the warmth of his chest and shut the door behind him without you having to speak another word. his contact causes your body to tremble, and the rumble from his chest doesn't do you credit. all you could hear was him repeatedly mumbling phrases like ‘speak to me’ and ‘i’m right here.’

he allows you a brief minute to collect your thoughts as your nose started to run due to all the sniffling you'd been doing. as he goes into the kitchen, you take a seat on one of the three cushions, letting your head rest against the seat. toji could be seen pouring tea into a lovely glass mug out of the corner of your tearful eyes.

“you wanna’ tell me what brings you here?” he asks, settling into the couch and leaving you both with just enough space. you were completely silent. that bubbly, talkative spirit you usually had was much more comforting compared to the silence he was experiencing right now. you looked completely drained— almost as if someone had completely stripped you from your joy.

“im sorry, toji. i didn’t mean to impose l-like this,” you utter and he chuckles. he gathers the remote in his hand and turns the tv down, figuring you were ready to vent.

“it’s not a bother at all, yn. y’know that.”

you weakly smile, taking a sip of the warm liquid given to you. a deep sigh leaves your lips, “he cheated. like.. a lot.”

before you finished speaking, you could see toji clench his jaw. your former boyfriend, or ‘a fucking bastard,’ as toji used to describe him, was a dumbass. toji wasn't surprised when you discussed this matter, given that the kid was well known for his horrible reputation with the ladies at your uni. since the minute he shook his hand at your birthday all those months ago, he was able to tell that the youngster was a jackass.

the son of a bitch was disrespectful when toji first met him. he spoke of you as if you were merely an item on his arm or a tool at his disposal. he was a real asshole and a heartbreaker; he wasn't your typical old bum of a man, and toji could read him from a mile away.

the kid wore a smug look on his face, only a look of someone without pure intentions would have. he was playing you the entire time and it was easy to see from the eyes of someone who was once a player his damn self.

you see, toji was irritated by the notion that someone could be so foolish as to lose a woman like you. someone who was so understanding, determined to get what she wanted, clever, and humorous in response to everything said to her.

blind. he had to be blind is all.

“a video was posted of him today. he was kissing another girl at some party,” yet another stray tear fell from the brim of your eye and there toji was to wipe it away, “i’m such an idiot.”

no you aren’t.

“nah, he’s a dumbass, and i’ll be damned if i have to sit here and watch you cry over something that isn’t your fault.”

you take a tiny pause in an effort to contain the tears that were on the verge of escaping. of course, none of this was your fault, but for some reason, you felt that you had to bear some responsibility. you made a foolish decision by disobeying all the guidance you had been given, and as a result, you are again stuck with the consequences. given that your father and toji had warned you about the man from the start, you were surprised that he had the strength to even talk to you about it.

“i just- i just should’ve listened to you, that’s all.”

toji sighs, grabbing ahold of your hands and squeezing them gently, “it’s a bad time to say i told you so, so i’m just gonna’ say i’m glad that you’ve come to your senses. he was a dickhead.”

toji noticed you smiling for the first time tonight, so his clumsy joke must have succeeded. genuinely. after your brief burst of laughter, you kept your gaze fixed on toji’s flatscreen without saying a word. the house's four walls reverberated with the faint sound of a local broadcaster's voice as the two of you sat in quiet comfort.

he hopes he won't have to be the one to break the news by asking, “does your father know?” he despised doing things behind his back, but if you wanted him to, he could keep a secret. you admired that you could talk to toji about nearly anything, which was one of his best qualities. he wasn't patronizing or disciplining like your dad.

yes, you adored your old man dearly, but there are instances when hearing someone else's point of view than that of a parent can be quite beneficial. toji. would undoubtedly advise you of right and wrong, but he would never make you feel bad about yourself.

we’re human beings and we all make our fair share of mistakes.

by this time, you were no longer sobbing and you were getting a little bit closer to the man. his side profile is followed by your suckling eyes as you savor his sensitive features. even though you've known toji since you were in your early twenties, you've always thought he was gorgeous, but time has been kind to him. as excellent wine ages, so was he. hell, he probably tasted as delicious as he appeared—

toji starts, somewhat unexpectedly, “y'know, for what it's worth, i think you're an amazing woman." he fumbles with the silver chain dangling from his chest before saying, “you’re pretty, you're smart, and you make a mean pho.”

pretty. he called you pretty.

toji’s solemn face prompts you to hastily cover your smile as he adds, “you didn't deserve to be treated that way- and i hope you know that.” you could feel a hand gently caressing your arm. his calluses brushed against your skin as he held it in a warm, rough manner. the gesture almost made you want to pant like a bitch in the heat, even if you had no idea why or how.

he murmurs, “i don't ever wanna' see you cry like that again,” as his dark irises finally contact yours and you two exchange a soft look. unknown to you at the time, something was causing you to approach a little bit more closely than you had intended. you long for a kiss as your gaze moves from his lips to his eyes and back again.

as you prepare to make what would likely be one of your biggest mistakes yet, you close your eyes. you decrease the distance between you two to just a few inches by placing your lips on his. toji ought to have pushed you away at the first moment, but he was driven to submit. the way your mouth felt against his was just so effortlessly natural.

perhaps the novelty of being alone or the warmth of his body against yours is responsible for you feeling this way right now, but all you want is to continue feeling him like this forever.

toji grabs the nape of your neck while you moan into the kiss, luring you in. you take the initiative to straddle his lap as you start to feel a pool between your thighs, your covered pussy pressing on his crotch as you exchanged saliva.

to your surprise, toji pulls away when you ask for more by licking his bottom lip. even before returning to reality, you managed to feel the remorse beginning to rise in your stomach.

“m’ sorry. i don’t- i don’t know what i was thinking,” you mumble, quickly climbing off of his lap and back into your previous position. “i’m sorry. fuck- i’m sorry. i shouldn’t- we shouldn’t-“ you go on, but all that came out of your apology was a weak, anxious whine. toji simply sits there, likely attempting to process what just happened.

you were scared, but you were also humiliated. toji was not only your father's closest friend, but also his business partner. this could endanger his friendships, family, and profession.

you can't bring yourself to say anything else. you start to gather your things and get ready to go to the door, but just as you stand up, a hand delicately grabs hold of your wrist.

“you want me?”

yes.

“toji- i didn’t mean to-“

“yes or no?”

as you swallow, your chest rises and falls from the kiss's delirium. toji manspreads while keeping his hands on his lap and waiting for your response, tapping his foot on floor. he did have an issue with staring. his eyes gave off the impression that they would cut straight through you.

you say, "y-yes," but it sounds more like a moan. when toji hears this, he gets up from his chair and approaches you slowly. his hands were in the pockets of his gray sweats, and he had a smirk on his face. he continues moving until he is directly in front of you, his shirt showing his hardened nipples.

“say it with your chest, yn. did you not just kiss me? or was i imagining things?”

his taunting tone of voice not only annoyed you, but it turned you on too. he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes following your curves, “toji, i want you.”

that was all he needed until it was his turn to attack your mouth with pecks. pecks turned into drawn out kisses and those eventually escalated to biting and sucking on one another’s lips. your noses chafed together as toji groans into your mouth. while your tongues danced to the rhythm of desire, toji’s hand came between your pants and the waistband of your pink panties. he shoves his palm inside the lousy fabric to cup your cunt in his hand.

he flicks his middle finger at your folds as you whimper, "want more, please." he can feel your lust on the tip of his knuckle. “i need you,” your nails skim the happy trail under his shirt, causing toji to grunt. the poor guy had no idea how much power you had over him.

“are you gonna’ regret it?” you ask, and yes, it was blunt of you, but you wondered if he was truly aware of the consequences of this action. you had to think of it from his perspective too.

toji was currently obtaining a happy life. he lived a peaceful existence with just him and his son and had a profession that was more than well compensated, but you? you were a grown woman—twenty eight, to be precise—and although you may have acted impulsively, it may have been just what you wanted. but want eventually turns to greed, and you’d hate to do damage to his conscious over your behavior.

“why would i regret you?”

you wanted to spend the evening lusting over his wonderful words— hearing him tell you the sweetest things, but no matter how sincere and charming his question was, your thoughts were elsewhere.

toji and you each had the ability to choose your own paths. everything you've done up to this point has been deemed inappropriate, and even if he were to stuff you full of his cock, it wouldn't matter. this was already out of line as is.

you make the decision to take matters into your own hands and carry on the passionate makeout session by encircling his neck with your arms. you can feel toji's hands pinching your ass cheeks as he begins to cup them to enfold you in his arms. he sits down on the sofa with you still in his grasp, allowing you to straddle his lap as before.

the hard cock sitting pretty in his sweats did nothing but rub up against you. as much as you wanted to take it slow, you couldn’t suppress the urge to let him have his way with you.

“‘ima fuck you so good, princess. so much better than he ever has,” he utters. you lift your hips up to give him room to finally take his aching cock out of his sweats. while doing so, he doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you.

"look at what you do to me, love," to put it mildly, you were in wonder as he grabbed hold of your chin and lowered your head between you both. first the middle, then the base was displayed. the thin pubic hairs that were still attached to his skin were somewhat cut, lying flat against his shaft as the tip of him flashed a brilliant pink.

as his cock stood up, toji flexed his lower abdomen to move it a little. each time he did this, his cock tapped against your belly, creating a pat.

“big huh? it’ll fit, don’t worry,” he ends his sentence with a wink and grasps on to your ass cheeks again, this time, parting them slowly. as you lift up, his cock aligns with your hole, leaking and eager for some attention.

“please be careful. it’s been a while,” you mumble. you turn to look away but he only comforts you, “i will. i promise.”

as toji entered you, your pussy revealed how horny you truly were. your sopping cunt slobbered around him inch by inch, little by little. your juices had covered his cock and made it easier for your walls to expand, adjusting to his size.

the burn causes your mouth to hiss. feeling him wriggle his way in like this made you feel like a virgin all over again. he had the kind of dick you had to mentally prepare yourself for; the kind that, after only two or more minutes, would have you crying and trembling in his hands.

“focus, yn. just focus on us, for right now.” he didn’t have to tell you twice. how could you not focus on just this? toji had your head spinning and your insides bubbling like never before. it’d be hard to think of anything or anyone else other than him, “you’re so deep- shit!” mushing your ass in his hands, he lifts you up and down his cock, making you feel each and every bit of him. toji bites back a moan when you start to become more comfortable— hips moving with his and your ass melting in his palms.

arms incoherently wrap around toji’s neck as he digs deep, moaning into your ear, “you don’t understand how good you feel. can i go faster? wanna’ make you cum all over my lap like the good girl i know you are.” you practically scream yes and immediately after, you hear a clapping sound.

your ass slamming against toji’s thighs was the cause of the ruckus, you realize as you turn to face the source of the noise. as you watch toji’s cock slip in and out of your pussy, he raises his head to stare at the side of your face, getting excited at how hard you clenched down in him as you watched him fuck you vigorously.

“look at how good you’re doing. takin’ that dick like it’s yours. you look so pretty like this.”

his encouraging words appeared to have given you self-assurance. using both of your forces to fill yourself, you start to slam down on him. you felt as though you were handling a lot at once, but you hardly cared enough to flee. god, did it feel wonderful to be taking dick like a pro.

“ooo- it's stretching me, toji! feels so fuckin’ good. i love it so much.” one thing toji picked up from this was how much of a screamer you were. every thrust ended with another high-pitched moan grumbling from your chest.

“you’re a loud lil’ thing, aren’t you? hope the neighbors don’t mind too much, but they’ll understand, right? i’m fuckin’ you so well they’ll have no choice but to understand.”

it was so easy for him to utter such derogatory phrases knowing the conditions his life would be in after— but he felt like he was compelled to. he loved the sensation of listening to your pussy becoming wetter with each passing stroke. incredibly responsive— his favorite.

his thoughts began to flow as a result of your hands grabbing at his shoulders. you were so desperate that you were delighted to accept whatever he was putting down, “i can’t believe mr. ln’s daughter is such a dirty little bitch. how do you think he’d feel knowin’ i’m ruining you like this, hm?”

that was when you came. something about the secrecy just made you all the more ablazed. although this might’ve been just a temporary feeling, you clamored for more— hollering his name and the curses that trailed behind it.

“m’ cumming! m’ cumming- fuck me, toji!”

he laughs, “how good is it, slut? tell me, how’s it feel?”

you could barely produce a single sound. you could only hold your mouth ajar and let out broken whines. your body was drowning in a sheen coat of sweat and your pussy was a bit sore, but you wanted to cum again.

“it feels a-amazingh,” you babble, unable to even utter the pronunciation of your words as he continues to poke at your g-spot. he was fucking you through it, talking you through it, and pulling you right into his grasp to swallow your whines with his mouth.

after he wrung out the last of your juices, he quickly lifts you up and places you on your back. he could now see just how pretty your pussy truly was. two plumped folds sitting on either side of a puffy clit that was in need of some sucking and a cute hole that ached for good dick.

a dream. a dream indeed.

toji wasted no time slipping it in, feeling your walls comfort his cock like a warm hug. every stroke was tender, but he was so slutty. the chain dangling from his neck beamed in your face and out of instinct, you tug on it a little to pull him down. taking a second to indulge in his features. he was so fucking sexy, especially like this— jet black hair sticking to his forehead, muscle tee drenched in sweat, and his small, hidden whines slipping in every now and then. you couldn’t believe you hadn’t done this sooner.

“i-i love this. love your dick so much- makes m-me feel so happy, toji.” now it was your turn to make your words dig deep, bringing him to the checkpoint with just a few praises.

“don’t say shit like that- fuck.”

you bring your hands to his face to cup his cheeks. you gently press your forehead against his and continue whispering sweet nothings against his lips.

“i can’t believe you’re fucking me like this— like you’ve wanted me for so long. you must love this pussy, huh? love when i take you like this?”

you take note of his sudden shudder, his strokes slowly becoming harder as his breath hitches near your ear, “yn, you better fuckin’ stop.”

“i can’t help it, toji. you just fuck me so much better,” you gasp and reached your arms around his neck, burying your head in his neck. you clench around him, and toji nearly loses it. the knot was finally beginning to unravel, his stomach was fluttering, and he was a bit tired, but he was so close— and you were too, again.

“where do you want me, sweet girl? i’m gonna’ to cum,” he asks, and you answer with a stream of yeses and ‘inside inside’. on command, you feel the wave of toji’s cum filling you full. your pussy wet him up with yet another orgasm and you practically collapse.

toji continues to fuck you through your climax, as well as his own. he was being nothing but dirty, yet a hint of weet. whispering things like ‘good girl’ and ‘i’m so proud of you’ over and over. your head was empty and so was your energy scale. you wanted nothing more than a nice soak in a warm bath to attend to your sore figure.

toji pulls out of you, leaving a airy noise being him when he does. his dick was coated in white, and he was still hard as you were wet, but you were both far too exhausted to give it another go.

he sees some of his cum dripping from your pussy and scoops it onto his index finger. lifting that same hand to your mouth, your lips immediately part to taste the mess the two of you made, “revenge tastes sweet doesn’t it?” he asks as you suck on his fingers until completely clean, letting out a moan while doing so.

as he stands to his full height, he stares down at your limp limbs and shakes his head in disbelief, “i didn’t kill ya’ did i?” he breathlessly laughs. you weakly smile and flip him off as he heads down the hall.

eventually toji returns, watching quietly as your lashes kiss your cheeks with exhaustion. still under a trance, he takes a towel he’d gotten from the bathroom to smooth your back and thighs, making sure to get between them as well. as he finishes, you could feel a delicate kiss being planted behind your ear.

his act as a caretaker drove you into a deep sleep, and he was left to reflect on what took place night. he might be jobless, and friendless in morning, but for right now, he’d rather fall asleep to the sound of your breaths as you lay your head on his chest— dreaming of the life you deserve.

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, repost as your own, or translate any of my work without my knowledge <33

#⇉☆*̣̥⁄⁄ 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 #toji x female reader #toji x black reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro

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lucky-draws · 10 months

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(transcript + some notes/explanation under the cut:)

i feel like the context of this is maybe only apparent in my own head LOL so basically ive kind of imagined an au where, based on the rebirth ending, james has succeeded in bringing mary back to life, but also maria, and also james gets killed in the process. so it's basically just maria and mary alone in the townTM trying to figure each other out. and this is a letter maria sends mary at some point basically. transcript in case the font is annoying to read:

Mary, You’ll have to forgive me if any of this sounds a little weird. I haven’t written anybody a letter in years, and I’m not sure if I have much of a way with words. Though I’ve been spending a lot of time in Ernest’s library lately, so hopefully some of his great literature has rubbed off on me. Somehow, I had this idea that I never liked reading much - that it wasn’t really my style - but I ended up getting kind of hooked. His dusty old books sure aren’t the worst company in this town, at any rate. I wonder what we really are, you and I. I used to think of us as two music box dolls: dancing side by side, spinning in perfect unison to somebody else’s tune. Like a pair of clocks keeping the same time. Two parallel lines, and an impossibility for us to ever intersect, to face each other head-on without some kind of disaster.

We’re not completely identical, though. If you looked closely at me - if you could bear to do that - you’d see all my imperfections. I lack your fine details. The paint on my lips is messier, my joins are showing, and there are bits of sprew left between my fingers. Pick me up, and you’ll feel how much lighter I am - I’m missing a lot of internal parts, you see. I’m a knock-off - we were cast from different molds. You were born of nature, while I was born from your very own killer. But I suppose I don’t need to tell you that. Do you hate me? I understand if you do. Or maybe I’m not so important - maybe you can only think of him. Or perhaps you’re trying not to think of anything at all when you sit by that lake for hours on end. I don’t know how you can stand it - going to the lake every day. It's so quiet. No ducks, not even a single bird. I’d go crazy, I think. That’s why I like to stay at the bar: there’s no one here either, of course, but it feels easier to imagine there might be. To pretend that we’ve only just closed, that those drinks on the table belonged to the last customers, and not to me. I’ve been so restless lately, sitting in the bar all night. I wonder if - no, I guess I’m hoping that - something’s going to give, soon. I think I’m losing the beat - I’m spinning slower than you are. I think it’s because I keep getting distracted, always thinking of you. I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s simply because you’re the only thing in this dreadful town that’s not a monster. But I think you must be as lonely as I am. Much more so, probably. And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if you’d only reach through the mirror and touch me. I’m full of missing pieces, I know - but I have this notion that between us, we might just be able to come together into something like a real person. You know, some days I feel I hardly know who I am; but other times I feel so sure that I’m beginning to dance to my own beat. It’s no fun dancing alone, though. Well, I guess you know where to find me. I’ll be waiting at the bar tonight. I always am. I’ve waited there every night - for something, someone, anything, anyone - for what feels like forever. But these days, I’m just waiting for you. See you around, Maria

#silent hill #sh2 #silent hill 2 #maria silent hill #mary shepherd sunderland #just realised you can see the cursor in some of these because i was being insane and creating these in google docs. oh well <3 #i was gonna do an art piece w like the music box doll visuals and a bit of text but then i realised i had much more than just a bit of text #so it became a whole ass letter

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plushyvi · 4 months

Text

“it’s a common notion!”

game: fallout 4

characters: paladin danse, arthur maxson

summary: he gets a little jealous seeing someone else be interested in you the same way he is. he starts to wonder if it’s a common occurrence for you.

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, reader isn’t sole but you can read it as if they were, jealousy,

↣ paladin danse

“knight.”

you glance up from your seated position to see your sponsor, power armour and all, watching over you. “paladin danse. how was your search in lexington? find anything useful?”

“yes. recovered some brotherhood weapons and holotags for captain kells,” he explains to you as he watches you take your hands off the scribe in front of you, “what have you been doing since i left the prydwen?”

you think it was pretty obvious with how proctor cade has you running a mock infirmary in the armoury bay. you were given a white coat to show people you were acting as a second doctor to cade. the bay was filled with tens of soldiers who came back for a fight with the institute at a hold-out spot in the commonwealth, all injured and most near to death. cade’s office was packed and you offered your help since you worked closely with him a few times.

“are you blind, paladin?” you mumble out in a joking matter. danse shows a slightly embarrassed look. but you smile at him. “the most recent outpost the brotherhood established was overrun by synths. proctor cade cannot tend to all of these soldiers.”

“right…” he grumbles off as you turn back to scribe in front of you.

you hold his hand, wiping the blood off his palm and trying to clean his cut. he winces, but the obvious blush that patterns his pale cheeks is obvious. he cannot stop looking at you.

“i… i have some injuries i’d like you to look at,” danse suddenly speaks up. you look up at him from your seated position. “i know cade is busy.”

“oh, well, i’m also a bit preoccupied too, paladin,” you say and finish wrapping the scribe’s hand, “is it urgent? how badly does it hurt?”

“a ten,” he says without hesitation. you stare at him with a raised brow. “i, uh… just come see me when you have the time.”

you go to respond when proctor cade comes into the armoury in a hurry. his sleeves are tugged up to his elbows and he has dried blood on his fingertips. his eyes meet yours and he hurries over.

“thank you, knight y/n, i appreciate all your help,” he sincerely says. you finish off the bandages before sending the scribe off. he does so reluctantly and shakes your hand for a bit too long for danse’s liking. “i can handle the rest of the soldiers here. you need to get some rest yourself; elder maxson said that you had a tiring mission this morning.”

“are you sure, proctor?” you ask as you stand up. there were still a lot of patients here, albeit you had dealt with the more serious cases. many of the ones left were just injuries. “i can stay for another hour.”

danse stands behind you. cade, looking between the both of you, notices the paladin’s slightly furrowed brows. he only nods.

“yes, knight, do not worry. i’ve been the doctor on this ship for as long as i can remember, i know a thing or two,” he says to you. you nod your head and wipe off the blood on your own hands. “thank you for your help. i’m sure maxson is also grateful for your actions. now, go rest.”

you put the coat down on the box you were sitting on and take out the supplies from your pockets. the medkit was given to cade before you turned to danse.

“okay, leave your power armour here and i’ll meet you at your room.” you tell him. danse agrees and moves carefully around the patients to take off his armour.

as he removes it, the same scribe from before approaches him.

“paladin danse?” he mutters out quietly.

“yes, soldier?” danse replies, head held up tall.

“i wanted to say… thank you for teaching y/n the way of the brotherhood,” the scribe says to danse. his cheeks are tinted red and he plays with his fingers nervously. “they’re an incredible soldier, and they’re so nice… i admire them quite a lot—”

“that is ‘knight y/n’, scribe,” danse interrupts with a harsh tone. the scribe jumps a little at his words, and he slowly nods. “they are just doing their job, as they are ordered to.”

the scribe looks to the ground for a moment, a bit upset. danse feels like he should be apologetic, but he isn’t. he only keeps his stoic look on his face.

“right… i apologise, paladin danse, i did not mean to overstep my boundaries,” the scribe salutes to danse before looking away, “thank you, and knight y/n.”

danse lets the scribe go in silence.

“be easy on the kid, danse,” cade speaks up as he grabs some stimpacks from the box against the wall. danse turns his head to look at him. “it’s just a lil’ crush. knight y/n saved a lot of these soldiers, who wouldn’t be compelled to think about them?”

danse is quiet as he ponders the question. proctor cade goes to do his work as danse moves to his room.

he opens the door quietly to see you sleeping on his bed. your outer layer was taken off, jacket strewn on his desk and you laid on his bed, silently breathing. danse closes the door behind him and unzips the back of his uniform as quietly as he can without disturbing you.

truth be told, he wasn’t injured at all. his retrieval mission went as smooth as humanly possible, so he didn’t need to have anything looked over. he just wanted your attention on him.

he changes into a comfortable shirt and sweatpants before locking the door. it would be heinous is anyone caught you two together in his quarters. you yourself were in a tank top and your pants from your gear, shoes set by the bed. you looked peaceful.

danse sits on the bed as he stares at you.

cade had him thinking; did lots of people have a thing for you? if yes, then how many?

he feels as if it’s childish to wonder such a thing, but he couldn’t help himself. you were an intoxicating thought that clouded his mind.

he thinks that maybe you heard his thoughts, because you suddenly stir and turn around, now facing him. your eyes flutter open and danse feels his face heat up at how you look at him.

“ah, sorry,” you say and start sitting up and wiping your eyes, “i’m exhausted—”

danse leans forward and wraps an arm around your shoulders. he tugs you close before he lays down on the bed. his thin blanket is pulled on top of the both of you. your face is smushed against his chest and your hands press against his upper stomach, trapped.

“get some rest,” he tells you.

“danse…?” you murmur against his skin. he shivers. “what’s going on with you today? i don’t see any injuries.”

he doesn’t say anything in response at first, utterly embarrassed by how he’s acting. he would never tell off a scribe for something like that. perhaps he should apologise when he finds the time.

but for now, danse kisses the crown of tour forehead.

“nothing, soldier,” he sighs out quietly as he closes his eyes. he can feel your hands slowly circle around his waist before you tug him closer, “i was just concerned, is all.”

“i’m okay, danse,” you respond, “you didn’t have to lie.”

“i’m sorry…”

“it’s fine. let’s just sleep now.”

he keeps his eyes open for a bit longer, which prompts you to sigh and lift yourself up. he watches as you plant a kiss to his lips, gentle enough to try and lure him to sleep. he relaxed into you in seconds.

“just talk to me later.” you tell him with a small smile.

he manages to doze off not long after you. the whole entire time, he thinks about how the scribe is right — you are an amazing soldier, and you have the biggest heart. that’s why he fell in love with you.

could he really blame anyone else for doing the same?

↣ arthur maxson

he’s on the ground for a change as he decided he should accompany you on your next task: training the new initiates.

“keep your hands steady,” you say as you watch them attempt to shoot the glass bottles on the boxes. most shots miss. “and don’t hold your breath for so long. you want to pass out in front of the enemy?”

“no, knight-captain!” a call is heard from the firing team.

“i want to see a smashed bottle from each of you,” you say with crossed arms. you watch from the sidelines and see how confident they are with a weapon — which isn’t that much. “we aren’t moving on until we get a clean shot from each of you.”

elder maxson had taken it upon himself to come and watch how you trained them, and he’s impressed. you’re not bad at it, just the right mixture of tough and encouraging. however, he thinks maybe he should’ve asked someone else to do this.

“well done, initiate frieda,” you say as you walk behind her. she lowers her gun and looks back to you, big doe eyes. she was shorter than you and her eyes seemed like the glossiest thing in the world. “you’ll be a sharpshooter in no time. i’m impressed.”

maxson clenches his hands around his bicep. he's let you train initiates before. did you always act so friendly with them? no, you weren't even acting friendly, you were being... genuinely nice. it made maxson wonder how you survived out there.

as you continue to help the other initiates, the girl turns to her friend beside her and begins to squeal quietly.

“did you hear that? knight y/n likes me!” she giggles out, unaware of the looming presence behind her. her friend goes wide eyed before going back to shooting. “i hope i’m on their team when we’re ready for the field, they’re so nice and so pretty—”

“shoot initiate dina’s bottle, soldier.”

frieda slowly looks back behind her to see elder maxson’s glaring eyes. his presence shook her and made the poor girl panic. her laser pistol shoot in her hands before she gulped.

“y—yes, elder maxson, sir!” she replies loudly.

that grabs your attention. you stop mid-sentence as you were talking to another initiate. looking to see the commotion, you’re surprised when you get the scene of maxson standing a foot away from the initiate you had complimented, looking about as mad as ever. you let out a small sigh.

initiate frieda shakily aims at her friend’s bottle. it isn’t a surprise when she misses by a long shot. that makes her friend and all the other initiates, who witnessed you compliment the girl, cringe in fear. the girl swallows the lump of nervousness and carefully lowers her gun.

“if you cannot shoot the target on demand, or under any pressure at all, you are not a suitable candidate for not only the brotherhood, but for knight y/n’a team,” elder maxson’s booming voice reaches across the whole training ground. the initiate looks as if she’s about to cry. but the leader doesn’t let up. “their team is only filled with the ones i deem the best. if you wish to be chosen for such a task, you must work very hard.”

“yes, elder maxson.” initiate frieda mumbles. she wanted to shrivel up.

“and if i may give you a word for advice,” his voice goes quieter, but his glare is harsher. she feels like she’s seen a ghost. “keep you focus on the brotherhood’s goal of freeing the commonwealth. i assure you, knight y/n does not have the time or the interest in someone like you, the way you do for them.”

she’s silent for a moment before she nods her head. elder maxson lifts himself up high again before looking around to the older soldiers.

"take this as a warning to all of you," he shouts as he begins to march. you have to hold back from rolling your eyes. "the brotherhood is now your whole life. you have no time to think of anything other than the good of the commonwealth. if you have joined for any alterior motives," he takes the time to look at you up and down. you don't know whether to be offended or not. "it's best if you leave now while you still can."

the initiates are quiet before they call out a 'yes, sir!' to him. going back to their training, most of them are scared out of their minds. but frieda especially; all she even did was call you pretty.

"elder, may i speak with you for a moment?" you question with a clenched jaw. he stares at you and, without even confirmation, you grab the fur of his jacket and begin dragging him around the corner of a building. you turn back to the eavesdropping initiates. "continue your shooting. when i come back, i do not want to see a single bottle left standing. knight rhys, make sure no one is cheating!"

the knight standing to the side on watch duty at the airport perks up at his name. with a silent groan, he nods his head. he turns to face the initiates and calls out to them to begin. laser shooting fills your ears before you hide behind the corner with maxson.

"arthur!" you grumble out with furrowed brows. he raises a brow at you. "what are you doing? i told you that you could come and watch if it meant you were quiet and didn't scare off my initiates more than you needed to!"

he crosses his arms over his chest as if to show you that he was pissed off as well. you rest your hand on your hip.

"you need to get your initiates in check. you cannot have them thinking this way about you," he tells you with a shake of his head, "not only will they be fawning over you all the time instead of doing brotherhood work, they will be distracted on the battlefield. careless lives will be lost, knight."

"what are you even—arthur," you sigh as you rub your temple. it's not like he was wrong, you needed to whip them into shape, but it was so early. "this is my second lesson with these initiates. give me a week and i'll have soldiers. just... you need to calm down a bit. what happened?"

he holds back from telling you. maxson was only slightly above admitting that he was wrong, but he'd be damned if he had to admit this to you. the crease between his brows becomes more defined.

"initiate frieda will be under knight wagner's supervision. i don't believe she would be an asset to you."

"shouldn't i have a say in that, elder?" you inquire as you raised a brow, "she is becoming a good shooter, and she gets along well with other brotherhood soldiers. not only that, but she got the highest agility score on the first day. i'd say she is an acceptable candidate for my team."

maxson rolls his eyes at you. your eye twitches at his behaviour.

"arthur, seriously," you exhale slowly and take his gloved hand in yours. he finally drops his arms from his chest and slowly relaxes his shoulders. "what's wrong? you've never been so hostile towards an initiate before."

it takes him a moment to gather up the courage to tell you anything, but soon enough he does.

"it would seem that these new initiates have taken a liking to you," he admits, "and i... i don't intend on letting that go any further."

your heart melts at his words before you let the smile you were holding back now take over your face. it’s a little funny, which makes you cover your face with your free hand. maxson’s brow twitches at your reaction.

“alright, that’s enough, knight,” he scoffs at you. he yanks his hand out of yours and massages the back of his neck. “don’t coddle them, is my point. you have to be their commander, not their crush-magnet.”

“‘crush-magnet’? what are you, 12?” you joke with a hearty laugh. that makes his face turn pink with embarrassment. “it’s okay, arthur. i’ll make sure to keep them in line.”

he looks at your face a little longer before he nods his head. you smile again as he rests a hand on your shoulder. he’s always been sheepish when it comes to any form of affection towards you, even if it was just some kind words. you let him come closer to you and soon press a kiss to your cheek. an arm comes around to hold your waist and he sinks against you.

“captain y/n, they’ve successfully—” knight rhys comes around the corner to interrupt, only he widens his eyes at the scene. he stops on his tracks and clears his throat. maxson is quick to remove himself from you and you rake a step away from him. “ah, i apologise, i—i didn’t, uh… excuse me, but the initiates have cleared all the bottles.”

“thank you, rhys,” you say as you nod your head, “i’ll take it from here.”

he nods his head and walks away while rubbing his ear. you glance to maxson before you stretch your arms.

“okay, i have to get back to work,” you say as you straighten your jacket. maxson runs fingers through his hair and fixes his own overcoat too. “now if you’re going to stay, you need to keep quiet, arthur. they need to be scared of me too. the way you look at people is already enough to make them shit their pants.”

“alright, knight, i will still supervise.” he replies.

you flash him one last sweet smile before he hears you call out an order for combat training as you turn the corner. he stands there for a few seconds longer.

he’d have to get over the fact that you were as amazing to him as you were to others.

#paladin danse #paladin danse x reader #danse #danse x reader #elder maxson #elder maxson x reader #arthur maxson #arthur maxson x reader #maxson #maxson x reader #fallout 4 #fallout 4 x reader #fo4 #fo4 x reader

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d6volution · 9 months

Note

OK. I know I’ve been requesting a lot BUUUT. You’re like my favorite writer SO!

May I request a Submissive obsessive Jax! With a praise and maybe,, a mommy kink . X Goth Fem reader

basically, Jax is like obsessed with her, he’s head over heels.! Basically will do anything but of course with hesitation cause of his certain personality. Well. Reader is a slut, and is sexually frustrated. But she talks Jax into breaking the filter just for her, and she uses him to get out her pent up arousal.

alright, this will act as a loose part 2 to my first subby jax fic as well! which can be found here.

tags: submissive!jax , dom!femreader, overstim, light bondage, oral sex, nipple play

(sorry for any typos or mistakes 🙇🏾‍♀️ )

"Ahn.. y/n.." Jax pants, pumping himself into his fist. Imagining you in his mind, that soft yet unwavering expression of yours. 'Taking care of yourself all alone..? Naughty boy, we'll have to do something about that hmm?' He replicated your voice in his head as best as he could. And his hips began to stutter at the notion of you having a reason to punish him again. His dick twitched and throbbed in his hand, ropes of cum shooting from his tip. He panted as he went soft in his own hand. His cheeks were a deep crimson as he gazed at the ceiling.

He'd soon have to make you aware of the monster you created. He couldn't stop thinking about you, hell he couldn't even get off anymore unless he was imagining you.. this must be some sort of karma .. or cosmic joke. Him? With a mommy kink? It's more likely than you think.

------

You were acutely aware of Jax's presence lately. You caught him staring at you more often, or ending up in the same place as you just moments later. He thought you didn't notice, since you failed to comment on his behavior, and you wanted to keep it that way. At least for now. You wanted him to realize that he had to come to you if he wanted more. He needed to admit to himself and you both that he needed something only you could give him. Unfortunately, you knew it wouldn't be that easy. Jax was rather stubborn. But, so were you.

And you guys had nothing else to do. So, let the games begin.

Jax was frustrated and after a few hours of deliberation he finally made up his mind, he needed to at least smell you again. Surely he could get in and out of your room without you noticing, like he'd done time and time before. "C'mon Jax, don't be a wuss.." He urged himself and used the key to open your room door. It unlocked with a soft click and he slipped inside without making a sound.

He could hear water running from the bathroom and immediately stuck to the wall as if it were going to make him disappear.. he stood there for a moment. Chest heaving but he realized.. it was the shower.

The shower?

Whatever higher power was out there, had to be doing this on purpose. They knew Jax couldn't resist trying to take a peek.

He shuffled over to the door , which happened to be left cracked open. And there you were, body slightly hidden by the steam and foggy glass. He could still make out the curves of your body and it was enough to make his pants feel tight already. He felt his cheeks flush from how worked up he was getting so quickly.

He cursed to himself and began to palm his bulge, still watching you wash off the grime from todays adventure.

With a squeak , the showers knob turned off the water abruptly and Jax began to panic.

"I know you're out there.~" You hummed before chuckling, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around your body. He froze— ears shooting straight up, and swallowed... slowly backing away from the bathroom door attempting to make an escape. Unfortunately he tripped over one of your shoes and fell on his ass with a thud.

"So much for bein' lady like, ya know you should really clean up in here tooTS!.." his voice cracked and before he could readjust himself to stand your foot was in between his legs.

"w.. what the hell—!" You pressed down against his bulge and the noise that left his mouth was adorable.

"I don't remember giving you permission to come into my room.. so what makes you think you have the right to judge it?" Your heel grinded against his bulge and he ground, gripping your ankle.

"L.. Listen dollface, I.. just forgot somethin' in your room the other day, sheesh cut me a br..break..!" You heel shifted again before you finally removed your foot.

"Mm.. is that so? That still doesn't explain you peeking in on me showering.." You smirked at him and he avoided eye contact. "Yeah, well maybe don't leave your bathroom door open.." He mumbled,

"Oh, don't go pouting.... you could ... easily make it up to me." You said casually, and he was attempting to stand back up but you stopped him midway as he knelt. Keeping him there on his knees instead. "Stay like that."

"What? I don't think so babe, w-we're not doin' this again." Jax said, lying right through his teeth. Because, he didn’t move.

No, at this point he was trying to convince himself he didn't want this. Even though you've been plaguing his every waking thought since then.

"Oh? We aren't? Then why aren't you moving..?" You asked , standing above him. Arms crossed over your chest. Your hair was still damp, and a bit of water clung to your body here and there.

"........" Jax was silent and you smiled, "C'mon Jax.. it's just the two of us in here. I haven't told anyone about your last session together." You tried to reassure him. "You're safe with me, let me take care of you..~" You purred, because in all reality you wanted him too. Just as badly.

You were just better at hiding it is all.

"What.. do you want me to do..?" Jax said looking up at you with puppy dog eyes and you sat down on the edge of your bed, arching a finger.. silently beckoning him.

He instinctively went to stand but you shook your head slowly and he sighed more in embarrassment than anything as he crawled towards you.. the closer he got the more your legs spread. He almost forgot you were literally naked until he saw your glistening folds between your plush thighs.

He was staring directly at your cunt, his cock throbbing in his pants as he now set directly in front of your spread legs. "Well?"

His hand gripped your thigh and you lightly smacked it. "Where are your manners Jax?" You said with faux disappointment and his ears seemed to flatten just a little, "Please..?" He said, in more of a question, not sure what you expected from him.

"That's more like it.." He felt a goosebumps along his body, and he didn't hesitate in burying his face between your likes much like the animal he was.

You hummed and leaned back on your elbow, he was eager. Missing your scent and taste, his long tongue flicked at your clit flattening against your cunt as a whole. You grabbed at one his ears , pulling him closer and he winced but.. didn't protest to the bit of pain. It only made him more eager to please.

'so good.. mine.. mine.. nn.. need to taste all of you. want to make mommy happy.' He thought to himself , losing himself in your taste as he thrusted his tongue in and out of your tight hole.

You were panting, hand unraveling from his ear and pushing head away, "Mn.. Jax.. baby, let's.. try something.." He wasn't budging at first, you had to use a lot of force to push him away from feasting between your thighs.

"And stop doin' this ..? nu-uh, not until you cum babe—" His trailed off and soon his voice went silent as you were peering down at him with a risen eyebrow.

"Do you wanna cum together or not?" Your voice was firm and that expression he made caused you to smirk. It was laced with obedience and submission. He was trying hard to hide it but you always made him slip.

He nodded his head obediently.

"Good boy."

"How do you feel about being tied up again..? Was that too much for you..?" You asked sweetly, sitting up so you could caress his flushed face.

"N.. Nothin' I can't handle doll.. got a thing for seeing me all stringed up?" He tried to joke.

"Oh, of course, my little rope bunny."

If he thought his erection couldn't get any worse, he was wrong. Good thing you noticed him straining against his overalls. "Let's get those off hmm?" You said and tugged at said overalls.

You have him permission to stand so he could remove his clothes, and that he did. What he wasn't expecting a for you to slide your hands along his waist and pull him towards you. "You're so pretty.~" His waist was so thin but still firm along with the rest of his body , a vast difference from the thick shaft standing tall in between his legs.

"You could take a picture, it would last longer." Jax retorted, again hiding behind humor to mask his embarrassment.

"You what... I think I will.." You smiled and stood up, still somewhat dwarfed by his height you pushed him down onto the bed. He bounced on the plush blankets and you were quick to follow him onto the bed. He didn't even notice you quickly swipe your rope from the night stand.

"What's wrong little bunny? Not chickening out are we?" You asked, noticing his gaze on his wrists as you expertly tied them to the headboard once again.

"What? N—No.." He muttered and you positioned yourself on his lap, his dick pressed up against your warm folds. Slowly your hips rocked against him, teasing him with the warmth and wetness you could offer. "Mnh.." You moaned and he felt goosebumps along his skin. His eyes shut, but soon shot back open when he felt your lips around his nipple.

"W..What are you— ah!" He yelped when you nibbled at the senstive bud on his chest, you could feel him throbbing against you. He was enjoying it. So you continued until he was panting mess and precum was dribbling from his tip.

"So turned on just from this..? So cute.."

"Please.. just need to be inside ya doll, to touch you.."

You chuckled and kept one hand circling his nipple before pinching it, "You know what I like to be called dear, behave and maybe you'll get what you want.~"

"Please.. mommy.. n..need to be inside you.." He whimpered as you gently tugged at his nipple again and finally lined yourself up with his throbbing size, you slowly sunk down onto him.. deliberately taking your time. Unfortunately for him this was the final straw, his dick convulsed and he shot ropes of cum into your cunt before he was fully sheathed inside of you.

He cursed under his breath.

"Did you just..? Oh, baby. Doesn't mean we're done yet." Luckily for you he didn't even get soft, but he did get senstive.

"Hhh..ha.. w-wait.." He tried to catch his breath but you slammed your hips down onto him and he moaned, hips jerking as you bounced up and down on top of him. His shaft pumping in and out of your slick.

Jax strained against the ropes, it was too much. His dick was still so senstive but you wouldn't let up, he couldn't supress the whines and pleas escaping his lips in desperation.

"Mn.. d.. don't worry Jax mommy is .. almost there.. hha.." Your hips kept moving, losing that rhythm it once had and becoming more sporadic until you finally convulsed and squeezed around his already throbbing cock. Causing him to cum again on the spot. "Mnh.." Your legs finally gave out and you laid on his chest. Content with the feeling of his warm seed spilling past your stuffed cunt. "Mnh.. good boy.. see I went easy on you..~" You chuckled and he rolled his eyes.

"Mn.. next time maybe you shouldn't be so easy on me.. I can take it ya know." He huffed.

"Oh, yeah? I'll keep that in mind."

#the amazing digital circus #ask #jax tadc #jax x reader #minors dni

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punkpandapatrixk · 4 months

Text

Full Flower Moon in Sagittarius ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

Yo! Full Flower Moon in Sag was on 23rd May; have you started to feel more light, more confident, more sure-but-chill in the trajectory of your Destiny? Sagittarius is the ruler of the 9th House of philosophy and the foundation of politics…but I dunno why lately I’ve been getting this notion of ‘destiny’ attached to it🤷🏻‍♀️

I think it’s just the time we’re living in~ This year, is the year so many Lightworkers and Starseeds get on with their real missions, and sure, more of the general public are also coming to awakening. Since the ‘battle’ ahead is going to take a toll on many of us both on the spiritual and material levels, the Higher Realms are making sure all of us warriors of Light basic needs are met first. You see, Light is essentially information. The body uses a lot of energy to digest Light—to digest information. Light needs to be integrated well with your cells for it to be useful at all.

With this beautiful Full Flower Moon in powerful and passionate Sag, all of our dreams of material abundance are flowering and blooming majestically with the natural rhythm of the Divine Order. Dance, children. This is a time to fully immerse yourself in feeling abundant, safe and stable, knowing that this security is only getting stronger and realer as the weeks and months go by! <3

Romance, friendship, community, company and communication; all of that is rolling out for everybody as we celebrate the end of the spring faery magick. This summer, fears and anxiety are completely dissolved in the salt waters. Play around, babe <3 Sleep and rest as much as you like. You’ve done so well! You’re been strong for so long, so now you can be soft with yourself~🧸

[Moon PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Not Butting In On Other People’s Karma Nomo

a u t h o r i t y – 10 of Cups

Babe, I think this season you’re finally coming to a realisation that you deserve to be surrounded by a Soul Tribe and Soulmates. Like I’m seeing you’re no longer interested in settling for people whose hearts are not connected to you, those whose values clash with your own. You’ve learnt the hard way just how exhausting it is to be involved in other people’s drama. Originally, it’s not like you yourself are that much into drama. Or if you did before, you’ve grown up enough to not want it anymore~

Right now, you’d much rather be in your own company and figure out ways to connect with your core again. There’s a lot of soul-searching that’s needed for now. All of the habits—and ways of thinking—you’ve absorbed from other people are being flushed out at this moment. I think it’s more like you’re weaning off their influences LOL What’s truly important right now is your own peace of mind. You’re sure from the depths of your heart that this is the real way to manifest a Soul Tribe <3

s u p r e m a c y – 3 of Cups Rx

~supremacy over your own self-defeating tendencies/inclinations/habits~

Unlike the other Piles, your supremacy over yourself this season is more about your sense of freedom in pursuing interests and activities, even studies, that genuinely suit your tastes. You’ve sacrificed enough of your physical and mental energy, as well as your creative and spiritual aenergy on being there for other people. Now you’re saying no. You’re in the midst of building a healthy boundary. Some of you could have been doing this for a while now and this is your confirmation that you’re managing just fine! Don’t doubt yourself <3

Seems like quite a number of you could have doubts every now and then…wondering if you’re turning into an antisocial bitch for choosing to be alone and saying no to helping people or attending social gatherings—or not replying to chats immediately XD So, this is your confirmation that protecting your peace and sanity is not selfish in a bad way. Maybe it’s a bit antisocial or whatever but it’s not like you’re hurting people? You’ve got to work on some things on your own, right? So that’s alright.

PsychicBigSis on YouTube says, ‘Protect your energy, even when it gets lonely~’😏

p h i l o s o p h y – 10 of Wands Rx

Yup, this philosophy is all about you realising that people can only be responsible for their own consumption and manifestation. If you consume shit media and entertain shit ways of thinking, then you manifest shit Reality as well. Now you understand that you can’t save people from the hell of their own making. Their own mindsets and what they choose to entertain are what’s creating their Reality. You understand now that you want no part in it.

Because, babe, you know from the depths of your Soul that you’re meant for a much better Reality. A Reality of abundance and glory and happy, where you get to be authentic and comfortable in your own skin. One way or another, I think your Spirit Guides have sent you an understanding on how bad it is to be involved in other people’s karma. Now you understand people can only resolve their own bad karma because that is their lesson.

If you haven’t necessarily come across this notion, I kinda think Sadhguru prolly has something meaningful to say about it <3

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – True Love’s Kiss Rooted in Self-Worth

a u t h o r i t y – 5 of Pentacles

Oh ma god, babe! What kinda heartbreak have you been through recently? Or maybe it’s an old wound that hasn’t fully, completely healed? But anyway, I’m seeing you rise above these heartaches. More like, you’ve transformed the way you think about these things. About human connections, relationships and friendships, including the essence of a familyship, of course. The betrayals and/or abandonment you’ve experienced have truly taught you that you deserve a soulmate-shit relationship and friendships! <3

You’ve learnt the hardest way that wrong friendships could destroy your Life! For some of you, maybe your past relationships or friendships weren’t necessarily socially wrong or whatever but being with the wrong people destroyed your heart; it destroyed your faith in people; and it’s such a sad thing. You’re now on your way to healing, fully, from those pains. This Flower Moon is assisting new seeds of trust and companionship to bloom in your heart. Everything’s gonna be beautiful again in the end, I promise you ^_~v

s u p r e m a c y – 2 of Cups

~supremacy over your own self-defeating tendencies/inclinations/habits~

See? 2 of Cups is a soulmate card whose focus is on an equal give and take. With the right people, you won’t even have to ask because they’re always giving Love to you anyway. It’s not to say that we should disregard real, direct communication, but more about how we, when in the company of the right people, will never feel like we have to ask for the bare minimum. This reading is basically trying to convince you that you’re not asking for too much when you ask for soulmate-flavoured connections HAHAH

It will be given to you. Because you have asked the Universe for it. Because you have done what’s necessary to transform your own point of view. Because now you want it and believe that you’re deserving of it. It will be yours~ Sorry, bitch, I didn’t make the rules. That’s just how the Law of Assumption(?) works ;P You ask for it, you work towards it, you believe in it, you get it. Not settling for any less than IT anymore. Keep your gaze at IT, vibrations high and standards even higher <3

p h i l o s o p h y – 8 of Cups

This part is probably gonna repeat some things, after all, your current aenergy is quite straightforward. You’re basically learning that it’s OK to leave behind connections that no longer fulfil you on an emotional level. For some of you, especially if you’re a Fire-dominant person, it seems like you’ve truly learnt to separate your expectations of a professional relation from a personal connection. I think you’ve come at a point where you no longer expect a deeper connection with somebody you’re just working with, and you’re fine with it.

You’re patient enough to wait for a true Soulmate friend or group of friends that will prove to be ‘your people’ until the very end. You’re also patient enough to wait for a True Love’s kiss from a divine being who values themselves completely and healthily the way you’ve learnt to value yourself. You may not really know how you’re gonna connect with these people; you just believe that when the time is right, the Universe is gonna take care of everything <3

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – The Wheel of Fucking Fortune Fucking Turning Around, Bitch~

a u t h o r i t y – Page of Pentacles Rx

Who’s been trying to tackle you, bitch? You had massive enemies, didn’t ya? There’s been this huge-ass envy aenergy targeted towards you and your spiritual progress to a point where it was messing up your physical manifestations? Your studying and healing and spiritual rehab and creating new pathways were all jammed by negative thought-forms? Damn, you survived all of that tho? Here you are feeling better than ever and I know that you know that I know that YOU know you’re coming on TOP of your Game!

And you’re just fucking started. No, no, this isn’t the end of your story. This is the end of a fucking ARC. And your aenemies—yup, with an ‘ae’ coz they’ve been up in your aenergetic ass the whole time LMAO—are somehow getting this ANNOYING inkling that you’re coming together with your greatest Destiny! I think…your aenemies are getting this inkling by observing every single thing that’s going wrong in their own lives LMAO Bitch, bad juju backfiring!

All of the fuckers who’ve wished harm and even death upon you are seeing those very wishes manifesting in their own lives ROFLMAO

s u p r e m a c y – 8 of Pentacles

~supremacy over your own self-defeating tendencies/inclinations/habits~

The way I see it, whether or not you’re still seen or in contact with those old stale farts, they somehow know that you’ve been working so hard at transforming your Life and that things are changing for the better. This message I think will resonate more for those of you who have a social media presence or friends/relatives who are talking to each other or something like that. But even if you’re currently living a completely solitary Life, it could be that your aenemies have been getting dreams about you; probably seeing you shine and be happy and successful or something. It could be a very intuitive thing like that.

At this point in time, it’s possible they could’ve changed as a person themselves and some of them are regretting their actions in the past. Many of them who are thinking about you are admitting loudly, NOW, that they’ve always seen you as a hardworking, honest, decent person who wouldn’t slight another person. And they’re bitterly—very bitterly—realising that this is why the Universe is rewarding you for all of the hard spiritual work you’ve done on yourself for yourself, and those whom you genuinely care about who’ve also genuinely got your back.

p h i l o s o p h y – 5 of Cups Rx

So, your aenemies messed up your chances to get your fortune cookies? Fret not, bitch <3 The Universe is in an active phase of sending you a million boxes of fortune macarons straight from the ‘authentic French confectionary’ section of the Cosmos! Take that! <3 What even is this illustration? XX’D

Some of your milder enemies (if that’s even a thing) are prooobably gonna try and get on your good side now that you’re proving yourself ‘useful’ to them again. This reading is advising you not to take anybody back, babe. ANYBODY. These people wished so much harm on to you once, what makes you think they wouldn’t do it again?

Trust that you’re ABSOLUTELY NOT missing out on anything by excluding these stinky-ass bitches from your blessed Life. If you’re gonna spew that Love & Light bullshit first, spew it on yourself first so you can shield yourself from what is NOT Love & Light. You got that?

If you’ve chosen this as your main pile, you’ve gotta check out PsychicBigSis on YouTube because her collective messages could have meaningful revelations for what you’ve been dealing with <3

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feybeasts · 4 months

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I think something that has become a problem on social media, especially the likes of Twitter and Tumblr, is that people can’t interrogate whether they’re engaging with their morality, or with moral posturing.

What I mean is- a lot of people will repeat views and declare beliefs without a moment of self-reflection or interrogation of those views, and even if they’re views that I agree with, it’s apparent pretty quickly that it’s an extremist, unrealistic take on them that has never been considered by that individual once, repeated just for social brownie points or to “score well” on the Morality Test in their own head. It’s people like white, middle-class twenty-somethings who don’t know the first thing about activism declaring that we just need to burn down every Walmart, it’s people declaring that there is a Bad Person and if we simply kill them all, all our problems will be solved, it’s the person wringing their hands over whether their media is Problematic instead of engaging with and dissecting those flaws for themselves.

The whole notion of justice, social or otherwise, has become mantras and creeds and edicts repeated loudly and without a moment of thought, not because an opinion is deeply held, but because it’s the Right Opinion To Have, even when the language used becomes radical and unproductive. It’s not a collection of beliefs borne from real-world experience and self-reflection, but from being raised in the echo chambers that social media has become. It’s loudly declaring your opinions more to convince yourself you’re A Good Person instead of being aware you don’t need to defend things that belong only to you.

I hate to say it- but it’s the exact same way people who wear stupid red hats and hang flags from their pickup trucks think. And it’s prone to the same co-opting and corrupting by self-serving forces as they are.

Your beliefs are not shiny badges you hang from your lapel and collect, show off, they’re not boxes you tick off for Good Little Leftist Points- they’re things you have examined and lived and feel strongly- I think people deserve a baseline of certain, unalienable rights not because I think I’m gonna be applauded on social media for them, but because I’ve had my heart broken living without them. I believe in the liberation and freedom of the gender-nonconforming and the queer and the kinky because those people are my friends, because it is a life I have found true happiness in. I believe in the dangers of authoritarianism and fascism and the military-industrial complex because I’m a student of history and have spent years learning how these things have ruined the lives of millions upon millions of real, innocent people.

My beliefs are a part of my personhood, not a collection of points I think will earn me the praise of the “right” people.

Are yours?

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deecotan · 2 years

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I’ve been playing around with omegaverse ZS lovechild concept for a while and now here she is! Her name is Minori, she was born sometime during the Strawhats’ voyage so she was practically raised in the Sunny. She exists in an omegaverse canon-divergent AU where the plotline is basically the same as canon, diverging post-Wano and post-Strawhat Jinbe (similar to Film Red situation).

Ramblings below:

I created her with the idea of a lovechild who is different from Aoi, the first ZS lovechild that I created. Aoi is an exuberant, happy-go-lucky person, with a tomboyish appearance and a more “unkempt” look that she imprinted from Zoro. Minori is reserved and quiet, if not somewhat shy, with a more feminine, neater appearance and overall looks that is inspired by Sanji, and by extension, Reiju and Sora. Minori is also set in the canon universe and raised on a pirate ship, in contrast to Aoi who is set in a modern AU One Piece and grew up in a family home.

I originally planned her to use rapier as her main weapon at first, but then I thought it would be a little weird for Zoro’s kid to choose a different type of sword, so I decided to scrap it. The name and the general color palette of the sword remains the same, though.

Additionally, her name was originally supposed to be “Marisol” since it can mean “sea and sun” in Spanish and also because I want to try giving her a more European-sounding name. I decided to scrap it since it won’t fit with the rest of the Strawhats’ naming custom; most of the Strawhats have easy-sounding names that are easy to pronounce both in English and Japanese (Luffy/Ru-fi, Na-mi, Zo-ro, etc), and most of them only consist of 2-3 syllables. Marisol is 4 syllables long when pronounced in Japanese (Marisoru), so I decided to change it to a simpler name.

My Japanese VA headcanon for Minori is Yui Ishikawa. She has the type of voice that gives off “elegant and sophisticated lady who can kill you” energy especially when voicing Mikasa from Attack on Titan and 2B from Nier:Automata.

She spends most of her childhood in Thousand Sunny, and then her early teen years to the rest of her life in Sanji’s floating restaurant in All Blue together with her parents, Zeff, and the rest of the Baratie crew. She would then travel to other islands by herself from time to time, sometimes saving people and getting into fights on the way, and send letters back to her parents that tell of her adventures.

Personality-wise, Minori is a calm, collected person. She tends to keep her emotions at bay and rarely overreacts to anything, and likes to solve problems in an analytical way. Deep down, Minori is also a kind and considerate person, and is especially very compassionate towards those who are in need. She has a strong sense of justice, and believes in the notion that the strong must protect the weak. She is also a bit socially awkward, having trouble befriending people normally as they would usually get scared of her first.

Minori is very inquisitive as a child, often questioning many things and finding solace in reading books. Because of this, she looks up a lot to Robin, whom she thinks is very intelligent and “all-knowing”.

Because she grows up in Sunny, aside from Zoro and Sanji themselves, she is practically raised by everyone in the crew and so has imprinted some of them as well. She appreciates Robin’s morbid humor, has a slightly extensive knowledge in first aid from Chopper, can differentiate between a good and a bad lie thanks to Usopp, and comes to love music from Brook.

People would often call her the “Miracle Child” due to the exceptional circumstances during which she was born. She is a child born into a pirate crew, with that pirate crew being the Strawhat Pirates and her parents being two of their strongest members nonetheless, and she is born when Sanji is being held hostage. (I’ll delve into that soon. Later. One day.)

As a result of spending most of her childhood on a pirate ship, Minori has a much more hardened outlook in life, having learned how to fight and defend herself against enemies. She can be downright vicious when circumstances warrant it, especially when dealing with cruel and powerful enemies.

She trains swordsmanship under Zoro, and as she grows stronger and more skillful in it, she begins to develop her own fighting style utilizing her enhanced speed, agility, and dexterity, of which she inherits from Sanji.

Her sword’s tsuba (hand guard) is circular-shaped and has a wave pattern that looks something like this:

Her epithet “Sword Princess” comes from her exceptional swordsmanship, her fighting style that’s been described as being “elegant”, and her overall wardrobe aesthetic that heavily resembles a princess.

She is noted to have exceptional beauty, and many people have praised her for it. Sanji has been notable for furiously beating people up if he catches them ogling or talking to her inappropriately.

Her name written in kanji would be 美緑, consisting of 美 which means “beauty, beautiful” and 緑 which means “green, greenery (the colors of trees and grasses)”. I think it’s an amusingly fitting name for Zoro and Sanji’s child.

Since she technically exists in an A/B/O universe, she does have a secondary gender as well, which is Beta.

#zosan #omegaverse #omegaverse zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #minori

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ao3cassandraic · 1 year

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I’m wondering about your thoughts on something I’ve been musing on after S2. How good is Aziraphale’s reading comprehension? How much does he understand subtext and metaphor? Because his behavior this season struck me with the impression that he didn’t really understand the books he collects. He’s clever at puzzle solving, and contains vast knowledge; but he always seems to take things at face value (when he’s not willfully misunderstanding), and refuses to give up black-and-white thinking, which would make it very difficult to analyze texts.

Angels, demons, language, and culture: part 1

You sure ask the difficult ones. (Which is great, I'm totally jazzed about it!)

I delayed answering this ask because it sent me off in a lot of directions:

What is an angel's starting knowledge base?

In contrast, how and what do we humans learn about our world and one another?

Which of these learning methods is not really available to an angel?

What do humans learn from books, fiction especially?

What kinds of information get left implicit in books because authors are humans writing for other humans?

How would an angel fill in those blanks? How would those blanks distort an angel's notion of How Humans and Human Things Work?

What would angels generally and either Aziraphale or Muriel (because yeah, it's hard to have this discussion without thinking about Muriel too) specifically read human-authored fiction for?

I don't have all the answers to the above questions. Not even CLOSE. I happily invite my fellow meta-ists to weigh in on any or all of them!

But let's see what I can tease out. We'll start with factory settings, so to speak.

Angelic vs. human factory settings

(questions 1 through 3)

Angels have (one) language. They have music -- or, at least, they can sing Her praises (likely by rote). At least some, like our Starmaker, have the knowledge to do specific jobs. Note that Aziraphale not only doesn't know how to make stars and nebulas, he's not even clear on what a nebula is. We can safely assume from that that angels don't all possess the same set of knowledge and skills purely by virtue (heh) of being angels.

We don't see, however, how much of what they know is simply an angel's birthright versus how much of it is somehow educated into them. We also don't know how She divvies up necessary knowledge, though I'd think it safe (given most takes on angelology) to guess that angelic rank and intended function are part of Her calculus, perhaps even the whole of it.

What strikes me hardest is that angels seem to be created either as adults or children (which is what I believe the scareable "cherubs" are), and they may well never change that state. The Starmaker is childlike in some ways, but not a child. Likely never was a child! Aziraphale, Before the Beginning, isn't childlike at all; his personality seems pretty close to fully-formed.

And children learn so very, very much. Babies learn so much as babies, while their neuroplasticity is super super plastic! Especially they learn about relating to other beings! (Which the Starmaker is conspicuously Not Real Great at, honestly -- absorbed in the work of creation, the Starmaker does not pick up the feelings Aziraphale is laying down at all.)

Children also learn one OR MORE languages, and that "more" is rather important, because language shapes how we think to some extent (the extent of that extent, and its nature, are objects of fierce debate among linguists and neuroscientists), and different languages shape us differently. Just as Crowley (as plenty of theologians argue) did humanity a favor with the whole knowledge-of-good-and-evil thing, the Tower of Babel (assuming that was a thing that happened in the GOverse; no reason it wouldn't have, I suppose) added a whole lot of nuance and complexity and competing understandings to humanity's sense of itself and its universe.

Exactly how angels and demons manage to speak all human languages (which Crowley indicates they can) isn't clear. If we accept that the Tower of Babel happened, both Heaven and Hell must have had to figure out a way to deal with it.

We do see, however, that angels and demons can be fluent in human languages without being fluent in human thought or human cultures. Gabriel and Sandalphon speak perfect English yet barely know which end of a book is up. Hastur and Ligur can't disentangle ciao/chow. And, I mean, actual food? Fuhgeddaboudit. So I see their linguistic facility as a sort of Douglas Adams Babel fish: it can translate an angel's or demon's thought into the target language, but it can't help an angel or demon think like an actual speaker of that language.

As an example, Gabriel can tell Job and Sitis about their new children, perfectly fluently. His purely-linguistic fluency does not help him understand that they loved their old children, much less why.

This may explain why Aziraphale studied French under M. Rossignol. He perhaps didn't feel he understood how French speakers think, and was interested enough in that to learn the language (as other meta-ists have noted, the language of love!) the human way.

So yeah, if I have a conclusion here it's that angels and demons can seem as off-center as they often do from a human perspective because they wholly missed out on a key period of human brain development.

What they have in its place appears to be... rules. Which is, I think, where I'll take this next.

#good omens #good omens meta #heaven and hell #the starmaker #aziraphale #hastur #ligur #babel fish #language and culture #tower of babel

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teamfreewill58 · 3 months

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Atem Leaving Was Wrong

Like many other members of the fandom I have a lot of thoughts about Atem going to the afterlife at the end of the series and also a lot of issues with it. I watched it straight through recently and it’s just so clear that it was not the right thing for Atem and also a really shitty way for the story to treat him. Let’s for a moment ignore the weird sudden push of “it’s not right for souls to remain with the living” that Ishizu kept insisting on and then claimed that’s what Yugi was telling Atem through the monster reborn card (which by the way could have been taken another way but I’ll get to that later.) The main reason the story insists on Atem returning to the afterlife is because it’s supposed to signify that Yugi has grown up and grown into himself as a person and no longer needs to rely on Atem the way that he did for a good portion of the series. “If I don’t become stronger, my other self can never leave my soul”. (Yugi Episode 221 8:18)

But the issue with this is that Atem--just like Yugi--is a person and people don’t just peace out of your life because they’ve taught you an important lesson or helped you grow. Yes, Atem and Yugi taught each other and helped each other grow, but that’s not a reason for Atem to leave.

What they learn from each other isn’t going to suddenly get negated because Atem stays--if anything it would create a new growing experience for Atem and Yugi because now they have a different dynamic and relationship that they would have to figure out and try to navigate.

So, back to Ishizu’s “it’s not right for the dead to stay with the living” and “that’s what Yugi is saying to Atem” by putting Monster Reborn in Gold Sarcophagus during the final duel. First off, this doesn’t apply to Atem because he didn’t die. His spirit was used to seal Zorc and as we’ve seen again and again throughout Yu-gi-oh a character’s spirit no longer being inside their body doesn’t mean they’ve died. Characters have lost their souls multiple times and had it put back in a body. Atem’s body is never mentioned and neither is the notion that his mummy is in his tomb. Second, Ishizu is making a whole lot of assumptions for people she hardly even knows. When Yugi reveals the card, Ishizu thinks, “Yugi is sending Atem a message. The soul of the dead must not remain in the world of the living.” (Episode 224 14:33) But no, Yugi isn’t sending Atem a message. And if he is, it's not the one Ishizu says he’s sending. He’s playing the game. “I knew you were going to do that, my other self. Because if I were you, I’d summon a God too.” (Episode 224 13:29) Showcasing how well Yugi and Atem know each other and have gotten to know each other and that Yugi has developed new skills. If we are to interpret it as Yugi giving Atem a message I’d say it’s Yugi saying what he’s said the whole duel, “I’ve grown and you’ve made me better and we both have been reborn”. But it is NOT Yugi telling Atem he needs to leave because Yugi and Atem have stated and showed again and again and again that they want to stay together whether that’s in separate bodies or the same one. In episode 52, right after the Millennium Puzzle got smashed and Yugi is home from the hospital Atem and Yugi talk:

Atem: Thank you. You risked your life to assemble the Millennium Puzzle during the fire.

Yugi: It was Jonouchi and Honda who saved us.

Atem: You’re right. We have great friends.

Yugi: Yes.

Atem: What are you thinking about? (7:21-8:01)

Yugi: Who are you really? I want to know.

Atem: Why?

Yugi: Why? Because….

Atem: I don’t know anything.

Yugi: Huh?

Atem: I knew you would ask me eventually. And I planned to answer honestly. I don’t know my name or where I came from. I don’t have any memories.I don’t know who I am. (13:07-13:39)

Yugi: Sorry. I should’ve never brought it up, so let’s not talk about it again.

Atem: The one thing I know is that I only exist because you hold the Millennium Puzzle.

Yugi: That’s enough.

Atem: But I-

Yugi: I said enough!

Atem: I want to stay with you forever. I don’t care if I never get my memories back.

Yugi: I also want to be with you forever. I’m willing to give you all my memories. (20:27-21:11)

I do feel like its very important to point out here that Yugi is in a heightened emotional state. He was caught in a fire, the Millennium Puzzle was shattered, shattering his connection to Atem and based off how Yugi is sitting on the bed staring at the puzzle hugging his legs--in addition to the fact that he is thinking about reassembling the puzzle in the fire---he didn’t know that Atem was still inside the puzzle until Atem initiated this particular conversation.

Yugi’s clearly been sitting here also thinking about the fact that Atem isn’t another personality of his or anything along those lines because he says “Who are you really?” He then feels a mix of emotions when Atem admits he planned to answer honestly but doesn’t know anything about himself. He feels guilt because he apologizes and says he should never have brought it up and then tries to completely close the conversation “so let’s not talk about it again”. And then he gets upset when Atem adds “I only exist because you hold the Millenium Puzzle.” Because this drives home that if the puzzle had got destroyed or lost in the fire Atem would have really been lost forever and that scares Yugi. At this point in the story it scares Yugi to realize that Atem can leave or be taken away. I suspect that if Yugi hadn’t cut Atem off he would have said “But I do want to know who I am.” However he doesn’t finish it because Yugi cuts him off and Atem picks up just how distressed Yugi is which is why he doesn’t finish his statement and switches to reassuring Yugi that he wants to stay with him.

Atem wants to stay with Yugi but he also wants to know who he is but now he can’t talk about it with Yugi because he’s seen it upset Yugi and this is part of why he’s depressed in the following episode. Yugi mentions “My other self seems depressed these days. He won’t open up to me.” (Episode 53 2:48)

Atem also confirms to Anzu:

“We both don’t know where we want to go. Who am I? Where did I come from? And I don’t know where I’m going. But it’s fine. I’m fine as is.” (Episode 53 5:28-5:49)

Atem: My dreams…But I can keep the status quo by not pursuing my dreams.

Anzu: You’re really fine with that?

Atem: I want to know more about myself. I want to know where I should go. But if I keep the status quo, I can stay in his heart forever. And that’s also what he wants.” (episode 53 10:34-10:56)

Here Atem confirms that he wants to know who he is but that he also meant it when he said he wanted to stay with Yugi, for him it’s not a “I have to choose one or the other it’s I want both of these and plan to do what I can to have both.” He doesn’t say “I want to go where I’m supposed to” he just wants to know what that place is. He further confirms in episode 54 “My partner doesn’t know that I saw the tablet today. Can you keep the tablet and what Ishizu said a secret? Even if I get my memories back I don’t know if I can stay with my partner. I don’t want him to worry for no reason. We always build my deck together. His soul makes up half of this deck. When he truly understands me, this deck will unleash its true power.” (episode 54 17.20)

Again Atem being mindful of Yugi’s fears and concerns that were brought up the previous night but also reaffirming that he wants to stay with Yugi. Then also adding that without his memories Yugi--and honestly, no one--- can truly understand him and that’s something that he wants.

When Ishizu gives them the Millennium Necklace they have this conversation shortly after:

Atem: You can’t sleep? (19:00 Episode 95)

Yugi: The other me.

Atem: What are you thinking about?

Yugi: Well….When we gather all the Millennium Items…I’ll eventually have to go to Egypt and place them in the tablet of memories. That’s my role as the vessel for your soul. When that time comes…Let’s go to sleep! Tomorrow is the finals.

Atem: Yeah. (19:38)

*Yugi then turns on his side so Atem can’t see him and cries.*

Atem: Partner… (19:40 Episode 94)

This scene in particular we can tell from Yugi and Atem’s expressions that they still don’t want to do this, Yugi looks incredibly sad about it and look at the shot of Atem when Yugi is saying “That’s my role as the vessel of your soul.” (12:20 Episode 94) he’s listening attentively but its just so clear in his expression that leaving isn’t what he wants. In their final duel it's mentioned that Atem's pride as a duelist won't let him just lose and Yugi does have some inflections here but unlike Ishizu Yugi does know Atem.

Literally spelled out right here, even on the day of the final duel, his "one chance" to go to the afterlife and Atem and Yugi both don't want him to go. Yugi picks up on this and also admits it in these pages.

The only reason they are doing this is because we have a character who keeps insisting that the dead shouldn't be with the living, that the Millennium Items need to be sealed away, and that if Atem doesn't go he'll be stuck there for eternity.

But the Millennium Items DON'T need to be sealed away anymore. When Atem accepts the Ring from Jonouchi he looks at it and goes, "There's no evil inside the Millennium Ring." (4:19 Ep 220) Zorc is defeated, that means all the Millennium Items are now just gold artifacts. They are EMPTY. Let's not forget the entire process Atem had to use in order to seal Zorc in the Milennium Ring, it isn't as though someone can come by and just infuse it with new darkness. Hell they still could have put them in the tablet, Atem and Yugi have the duel so that they can know Yugi and Atem have grown and are better and the place still collapses after Atem decides he doesn't want to go.

The Atem being stuck there for eternity if he doesn't do it now. Why? What lore says he'll be stuck there? This is an additional arbitrary rule that just got thrown in so that he'd have to leave. When they have the final duel Atem and Yugi split and Atem clearly has a body. His soul is no longer attached to the Puzzle because the Puzzle is in the tablet. Even if he can't have his own body it's clarified that Yugi IS Atem's vessel so why can't Atem and Yugi just share the same body and switch as they have been? It's incredibly unfair to Atem who not only barely had a childhood because he became Pharaoh at 15 AND got sealed but his time with Yugi is very very short, its like a year to little over a year? Yes Atem probably misses his family and friends from Egypt but he also deserved to have an actual life and it's just cruel and fucked up that he gets taken away from the people he loves twice. The first time he had a say and it was his choice but the second and final time he was literally forced by the narrative and it is just such a bullshit way to treat such a good character.

#atem #pharaoh atem #analysis #yami yugi #ygo #atem yugi #yugioh #yami yugi atem #yugioh atem #yugi moto #ishizu ishtar #this was some bullshit #atem deserved better than this #poor boy #so precious

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leeknowsintrusivethots · 5 months

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A Stray Concubine

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Pairings: Prince!Lee Know/You, Prince!Bangchan/You, RivalNoble!Hyunjin/You? We are all about possibility here. Summary: Entering into a harem choosing was something you have been groomed for since you were young. Your aim is to make Crown Prince Christopher fall at your heels in order to restore your ruined family name and fortune, but games of love are much harder than games of lies and deceit. Content: Angst (is it me if it's not?), slow burn, smut(warnings below when applicable), fictional historical universe, dark themes, second person perspective, historical-typical gender roles, imperial harem-inspired concubine system, multi-pov, lotsa plot/world building, political intrigue WC: 5246 Minors do not interact. Do not repost my content to other websites.

Taglist: @blondechannie @torialefay

Notes: Things got out of hand. Side note, our main character now has a last name to avoid the excessive use of 'Y/N.'

You

“I’ve heard the young Lord Hwang is here in the Capital for the festivities.”

“I do wonder what the the Lord is up to now. 'Twas a nasty business with his parents' death and all.”

A flutter of feminine words carried by the cool breeze of dusk. They were as hollow as the chirping of birds, but with the weight of lords clanging swords.

“I suppose that's why he's here,” the middle aged gentleman said conspiratorially to his companion. He was dressed in the fine, rich fabrics of the upper class, but his dress did not hide the lascivious glances he would steal at the young woman he spoke to.

It was another lesson you had learned: social standing was meaningless when it came to the lustful notions of men. It didn't matter King, priest or commoner; all men floundered their morals when presented with something pretty dressed in silks. This gentleman was no different.

“It's such a shame to have felt such tragedy so young,” the woman said softly. It was another flutter, a fine beating of appropriate sympathy and poise. Whatever lot she had hailed from, she had been trained well.

“Oh,” the gentleman intoned with a glance around him. He seemed to be looking for something, or someone. He scanned the ladies and lords who conversed and drank around him quickly before his eyes settled. He was looking directly at you.

You had been wandering through the throngs, seeing and being seen for most of the festivities. You had to ensure you played your part of a well-bred lady making connections. It also served to listen; gauging the mood of the nobles who inhabited the palace alongside the royal residents. You had expected attention, but none so blatant.

“But I do hear the daughter of the Wicked Witch of House Sterling is in attendance,” the man stated, loudly enough for his feminine companion, you, and everyone within the breadth of the long table he occupied to hear. Lords and ladies alike recoiled as if hit. Some laughed with unease, but most seemed unsettled by the reminder of years past.

“My Lord,” she exclaimed with exaggerated scandal covering her classically attractive features. She fanned herself as if the wave of her hand could rid her of the shock of his statement. “Is it true?”

“It is, my dear. They say The Witch and her daughter ensorcel men with the bat of their lashes, and use their livelihood to keep themselves young and beautiful. I fear for the young bucks of the court.”

The woman saw her cue, and like any well trained woman – she took it. She leaned in with the bat of her own lashes to whisper into the man's ear. At her attention, his own wandered from you back to her and her hands on his weak shoulders. She pulled back just far enough to wink directly at you. She was playing the game, and she was playing it well.

Grateful for her intervention, you gathered your skirts loosely in hand and set off through the crowds.

The banquet hall of the palace was large enough to house the entirety of the nobles in the realm and most of their major retainers as well. It was a grand structure with elegance and richness built into the very walls. Tapestries with the heraldry of the Bangs hung from every beam and nook— The yellow eyes of the black and white wolf following all those who dared their presence with a sly keenness.

The women who made up the King's Harem had their own heraldry, passed down from the families they hailed from and kept if only as a token of fondness from their lives before. They were not permitted to hang in places of state, nor were they permitted to even be within eyesight of the Wolf. It was a threat to their power to place such importance on lower houses, and could be seen as an act of treason to even suggest such.

It was a shame. The banners of houses Seo and Yang in particular were vibrant and colorful. They would have brought life to the white, gray and black of House Bang but nothing could overshadow the crowned wolves.

Your thoughts of banners and symbols were a distraction from what you planned. The beating of your heart had its own flutter, one far less beautiful and flattering than the woman from earlier. It's crescendo sped as you stepped into the line of courtiers that neatly led up to the dais where the royal family sat like pretty paintings. The line moved, but painstakingly slow. It inched forward like the crawling of a slug after a hard rain, and you could only wish someone would salt you and be done with it.

Those in front and behind you chatted and carried about merrily as they waited their turn. They were of two sorts: simple creatures who had neither hide nor hair in the affairs of court or sordid schemers whose flattery and lies were concealed enough to be on the winning end. They had no fears of how their presence would be received by the rulers of their realm. They were safe, while your head was already placed on the metaphorical chopping block.

Your only hope at calm were the banners.

Every time the herald at the head of the procession called out names and titles, you brought their banners to mind. House Jeon, Lords of the Anpanman Woods: a wooded forest with an archer riding atop a monstrous hare at its forefront. House Wang, Wardens of the Southern Border: a thin sword with a snarling hound’s head as the pommel. House Kwon, Protectors of the Treasures of the East Sea: an extravagantly colorful sea dragon dripping in molten gold as it ascends from a deep blue ocean. House Min, Keepers of the Western Jungles: a rare, white tiger stalking amongst a dark green growth.

Every Great Lord was in attendance with their minor counterparts, and every one of them had their proud banners and symbols with deep rooted history and lore. You had been taught all of them by your tutors in your childhood, growing up with stories of their conquests and lineages.

You remembered that House Jeon was one of the youngest of the great houses, rising to power by claiming the timber bounty of their woods. House Wang was older and more storied, a history of mismatched allegiances with the King across the wastes and ancient claims to the Crown of Miroh. House Kwon was even older and as powerful as it was queer: Sea Lords with ties to the Free Isles in the West. House Min was the most shrouded. They were covered in the mythos of legends, with fact and fiction blurring reality.

“Lord Hyunjin, of House Hwang, Keepers of the Heartlands,” the Herald called. Their banners depict a common ferret curling around a brilliant sapphire. They were upstarts who had risen with the Bang's rule; they were no friends of you or yours.

You watched as the handsome Lord smiled and jested with the Royals, even with stern King Bang himself. He seemed to pay close attention to the Princes’ Christopher and Felix. It would not do to dwell, but you noted his connections with a keen interest.

The Hwang's had been close to the crown for more than two centuries, since the House Bang had risen from their ancestral home of the Forded Rivers to claim the throne through blood and war. The Hwang's had been Champions of the cause, steadfast allies of the offensive in the Red Rebellion . Their loyalty had not been forgotten and their rise had been meteoric and quick compared to the lengthy reigns of other Great Houses. In a matter of a few generations, they had risen from titles minor landholders to a major power in the politics of the realm. You had no doubt that Lord Hwang sought even more favors with the friendships he curried with the Princes.

As you continued your wait, you watched the man in question lobby about. He was tall, but graceful and as elegant as any old house could be. Even as he spoke to fellow couriers, he was refined but approachable in a way that most were not. He smiled coyly at another courtier before his eyes met yours and his lips fell flat. You averted your gaze quickly, your mind faltering. You had not killed Princess Mai, but his stare suggested otherwise.

“Young Lady Sterling,” was all you received from the Herald when your time came. There were no titles, no honors, no places of power. All you had was a family name that was dying, connected to a murderous traitor.

Relying on your training in graces and decorum, you dropped to your knees and bowed to the family who ruled the lands you called home and recited words from a distant memory. “Of bravery and courage, of rule and might; blessed and long be your reign.”

“You may rise,” King Bang commanded.

And so you rose to regard the man who condemned your father to death.

He sat in the middle of the dais with his queen to his right and his Most Favored, Beauty Lee, to his left. She was as resplendent as ever in expensive silks with her hair coiffed into the most stylish fashion with a pleasant smile curving her rouged lips. The queen was more somber. She wore the dark purple hues of royalty, and kept a regality that was unapproachable to say the least. She regarded you coolly, but you could see the hostility in her eyes. Princess Mai had been her natural daughter.

“You certainly favor your mother,” King Bang commented gruffly. It was not an exclamation of emotion, it was a simple observation.

“I’m pleased to hear I have my mother's charms, Your Majesty,” you replied with eloquence. You spoke softly, keeping a demure coyness about yourself that you had honed to a fine art.

“She was always a welcome sight,” the King added. Courtly arrogance mixed with courtly love. He too was playing the game. He blessed you with a smile that had the scar at the corner of his mouth standing to prominence before posing a question that had you caught off guard. “Which one of my sons is it then?”

“I'm sorry your majesty, I don't–”

“Is it the laughing and fierce Prince Jeongin? Or mayhaps the shy and courtly Prince Jisung? Or do you prefer the bold and strong Prince Changbin?”

“I–”

“Or perhaps your mother plans to aim higher?” He barreled along, his words never losing the flirting intrigue of courtly love but gaining the edge of a longsword. He glanced down the table of the dais, past his queen and to the silver crown threaded with dark iron wolves that sat atop Price Christopher’s head. He made no comment, but he did give you a look akin to pity. You hated it that look and everything it stood for.

“Your Majesty,” you spoke, inflicting an intentional waver to your voice and forcing your eyes to water with tears. It was not hard to fein being the weak, scared girl that King Bang required of you. “I would never dare to presume any grand intentions. I a humble servant of the crown, and I will do whatever you require to earn your love back for the House Sterling.”

“I owe no love to your family, young lady, and I never intend to. House Sterling is dying, and I will not save the family of Traitors. It's only by the good graces of your Mother that you both were not banished across the northern border.” The edge was dulling. One flutter. Two flutters. A few more until it wouldn't even be able to cut butter.

“My mother has retaken her maiden name, returning to the mantle of the Jeons. I have no such luxury, Your Majesty. I will forever be cursed by the sins of my father, but I will forever work to make amends.” A flutter of a sweet song. Honeyed with the naivety of a girl, and blessed to come from pretty lips. The blade was dulled, but you were set on making it crumble to iron dust.

“And how would you do that?”

“Put me to work, Your Majesty. I will slave as a Maid until I earn your love, or my death.”

A rumble went up behind you at your proclamation. You paid them no mind. Your attention was on the King.

He's the king of a realm. Make him feel like the King of the world. The only man within your sights. The highest of them all– a God.

“The youngest of the formerly Great House Sterling content to scrub floors and empty chamber pots?”

“My House’s pride is nothing to me. I serve the crown before all others. My duty is to to realm, Your Majesty– to you.” You dropped to your knees to peform the formal bow again. It was a sign of respect, a sign of your servitude.

“You may outdo your mother's charms yet,” the King remarked with a hidden smile playing in the shadows his golden, heavily bejewelled crown cast upon his face. “I will discuss your plight with my Councilors, Lady Sterling. Until a decision is made, you are welcome to feast and revel in the glory of the Royal Court.”

“You are most kind and just, Your Majesty.” You stood from the ground with the help of the Herald. He touched you delicately and respectfully as the flutters stirred up the dust of iron. You had won. It was a small victory, the first of many, but it was still a victory.

In the haze of the glittering particles, the court watched.

Beauty Lee regarded you with renewed interest. Queen Bang was stony, her murderous eyes portraying her displeasure but no words leaving her pursed lips. The Princes all watched with varying levels of interest in their Father's affairs, but the only one whom mattered still looked at you with pity.

It stoked your anger. You were a daughter of the Great Sterlings, former Wardens of the war torn Northern Borders. Your family was fierce and proud, tempered by the harsh climate and the even harsher hands of the war torn barbarians. You had the blood of warlords, conquers, and leaders. You may strip your pride to appease the King, but it would always be in your heart. You hated the Princes' pity, but you could use it in the same way you used the King's fondness for beautiful damsels.

His son would be no different. He would fall at your feet, ready to restore you and your family for no other reason than the love of being a hero for a the songs of singers across the continent. It was as simple as playing him like the harp you spent so many hours practicing. His tune would be notes of restoration and riches.

“Lady Sterling!” A boy called as you made for the Hall’s exit for a breath of fresh air and to revel in your victory. He was young, freshed faced with the hint of acne playing across his forehead. He dressed in the livery of House Wang: the metallic glint of iron present on all the accents of his dark clothing. He bowed politely before handing you a scratch of gray fabric.

It was rimmed with shiny silver thread and had intricate wolves with gems inlaid into the fabric for eyes at all four corners. The initials LMH elegantly scrawled along the center in delicate lines and swirls.

It was a royal favor, but not the one you had desired.

Christopher

To the great ire of their father, Minho had refused his place on the dais.

The refusal had led to a screaming match that could be heard in the next wing. The roars of his brother and father filled the halls with curses and anger. It only worsened when Minho refused to attend the festivities all together. King Bang had threatened to have him whipped, to which Minho had laughed maniacally and downed the rest of the fire whiskey he insisted on having on hand with his father.

“Do it! I've learned well how to bear pain, Father,” Minho screamed in rage at the threat.

Christopher wasn't certain on what lengths King Bang would have gone had he not stepped in with a sobbing Beauty Lee at his heels. He wasn't even certain on which had calmed the King; his intervention and promises to handle his wayward brother or the tears drenching Beauty Lee's silks. Either way, he had relented and Minho had avoided the whip.

It was the beginning of a deadly dance. He would have to balance the both of them: his father's hot headed rages, and his brother’s own uncontrolled hatred. The price of losing would not be a simple sore foot. A wrong step could ripple across the floor and disrupt the entire performance; sending everyone toppling to their dooms.

“That was the murderer?” Changbin asked from his side. The third prince had been too preoccupied with his food and the ladies milling about to pay much attention to the King's audiences. He had only taken note when the girl had fallen to her knees to prostrate herself in desperation.

“She's no murderer,” Christopher chided.

“Did her family kill our sister or not, Chris?” Changbin countered with annoyance. Anger simmered just under the surface. Princess Mai was a sore topic even so many years later.

“They did. She did not. She was just a kid when it happened.” They had all been young then. A child's blissful ignorance was no place for the blame of their parents’ faults. All of the Princes' should know that, but Christopher knew it most.

“Mai was just a kid, too. An innocent, sweet, lively and damn charming kid. Had she lived, I would probably be in debt for sweets and dresses. I would have been a beggar proudly for our baby sister, yet you take up in defense for the blood of her murderer?”

“I miss Mai as much as you do, more even, but her murderer was executed. There's nothing else for us to do,” Christopher shot back. He was feeling his own anger rise. There were few things that he wouldn't do for his family, his siblings. Changing the past was not within his realm of capabilities.

“Are you truly that much of a fool?” Changbin asked incredulously. His anger was still held tightly in check.

“Is it foolishness to allow a person to pave their own path?” Christopher returned. He lacked the heat of his younger brother. He could never be mad at any of the boys who shared his blood. They were all young, still finding their way into manhood and rule with the black and white lens of good and evil. If only the world were so simply colored.

“It's foolishness that could end in an early grave.”

It was not Changbin who answered. The voice was feminine, but hard. It was the voice of a woman who had seen too much, been forced to harden her edges at the behest of those in power around her.

Queen Bang regarded her natural son and his brother with a stern stare. The panes of her face were sharp, severe even. Hers was a beauty that didn't often mesh with the other ladies of the palace. It was refined but not delicate; the type of face that would strike fear in a man's heart as much as lust. It had both Christopher and Changbin sealing their lips tight to stave off any protest that bubbled.

“This is not appropriate banquet conversation,” she stated with a final withering stare before turning her attention back to the audiences entertaining the King. He was deep in conversation with a Captain from the Free Isles about some strange sea beast that had been spotted. From the look of the table, he was also deep in his cups as he boasted about hunts from his youth of beasts of yore.

Taking the reprieve, Christopher searched the room for Minho. He had promised he would at least be present, wandering the room discreetly so as not to raise gossip about the Second Prince being excluded from the dais. He was to have his first pick of any Lady that caught his eye, and he had only to choose one– one gentlelady to give his father the illusion that the wayward Prince had been subdued into court life.

Of course, Minho had to make even a simple task an effort in patience and persistence.

However, Christopher could not have patience. It went against everything he knew and everything he was, but he had to act. There was no room for error, nor weakness in the Court of Miroh.

At a look, the page was running towards him. He was well dressed in the colors of his Liege, the fabric glinting in the light like polished iron. With a well placed command and Changbin watching curiously, the boy took off with quick feet and vigor for a promised knighthood.

A future King had to be a man of action.

Minho

The palace library was a place of wonder for any intrepid mind. It was filled with the works of great scholars and war strategists renowned for their taciturn. Works from all across the world, they told of histories, battles, and gentleman's philosophy. It was all knowledge that any young man should know, approved by the crown and kept up by an army of ever present eunuchs who dusted the shelves and kept the sight fit for royalty.

Tomes upon tomes of knowledge lined the high walls with ladders placed at intervals to reach the topmost shelves. The tops of the ladders ended in marbled ceilings that supported the second floor balcony. It was a wide open walkway lined with yet more books that opened up to show the floor below.

Minho had spent a lot of his youth in the brightly lit rotunda. He studied with his appointed tutors, absorbing the knowledge a spare must have like a sponge desperate for hydration. Even when the old men would give him leave, he would stay. Day would turn to dusk as he poured over the words of wise men.

But Minho had learned what the library could teach him. When he had reached out for more, he had been denied. The Library eunuchs had told him that they held all the knowledge in the world in their shelves. His tutors had brushed off his queries with well mannered hands. His father had outright scoffed and berated him to work harder at his swordsmanship instead of wasting his time with yet more books.

Desperate for more, Minho had sought knowledge through travel.

His early years had seen him guesting the courts of Great and Lesser Lords, browsing their own shelves for things he had yet to learn. Each time, he was disappointed. Each time, he moved on with more vigor. It wasn't until his desperation took him to the city taverns, art houses, and lone monasteries in tall, reclusive mountains that he learned the greatest lesson of his life: through understanding of life could never be found until one experienced the people of the world itself.

He had come to hate the palace library, disdaining the time he had wasted learning what was deemed appropriate for a Prince. It was unfortunate that it was an excellent place to find a quiet and unassuming corner with few ears that listened. It was even more deserted with the Selection happening. No Lords browsed the shelves, and few eunuchs were on duty.

“How have you been, old friend?” Hwang Hyunjin asked as he slid into the seat next to Minho. They were cushioned and pushed into an empty corner, meant for spending hours reading.

“Better,” Minho answered. The table between them held a silvered platter complete with three tumblers and a decanter of liquor. He poured them both a drink and took a healthy swallow of his own.

“Does the idea of Miroh court life distress you so much?”

“As much as having my manhood chopped off,” he answered wryly.

“I'm sure our glorious King would love to have that arranged if you don't fall in line,” Jackson Wang joked as he took a third seat. He squeezed in next to Hyunjin, the table separating the Prince from his guests.

“Yes. He would,” Minho agreed grimly. Another sip of the liquor had fire burning in his throat. He poured some for the new arrival in the empty glass.

“It needs not be that way,” Hyunjin stated. “It's as simple as doing what he asks.”

“I will not, and I'm surprised you would even suggest such.”

Minho had spent time with almost all the Lords of Miroh. He had supped in their dining halls, listened in on their councils, advocated for reform favoring the small folk with what attention he curried. He was familiar with them all, but none more so than Lords Wang and Hwang. They were as close to him as his own brothers. They knew his views and he knew theirs.

“We have discussed this before. If you want to seek change, you have to be in a position to do so,” Jackson said. He picked up his tumbler and sniffed the liquid indulgently before taking a healthy swallow.

“And it shall not be by so blatantly ignoring your father's wishes,” Hyunjin added. His own glass remained untouched.

“You wish me to abandon everything I believe and play the part?” Minho was annoyed, but not surprised. This was a normal point of contention in the trio.

“Jackson controls the Southern Border. I have dominion over most of the Midland Plains. We have influence, but with a Prince advocating to our ends, we could scarcely be denied”, Hyunjin said, passion deepening with every word. It was the same old conversation, but never had he pushed so blatantly. Minho's return to Court seemed to heighten his resolve.

“We could not risk altering the realm within a fortnight. We have to play the long Game. Even revealing our cards too soon could lose us royal favor, and power. Your father is not so inclined to a liberal nature,” Jackson added. He had abandoned his seat all together, glass of liquor in hand.

“The long game is waiting until Christopher is crow–”

“Your brother is a strong and moral Prince, but he is a traditionalist. Even in him, you will not find the ally you think,” Hyunjin cut off Minho's protest.

“If you are suggesting we overthrow my brother, you won't have to deal with my father. I'll have your head of my own accord,” Minho spat, sudden anger getting the best of him. His brother's all had their faults, but he would forever be loyal to them.

“We would never suggest such a thing, but he will need the right people around him when he ascends. The current Council, baring myself and Lord Wang, are all bootlicking yes-men with traditionalist loyalties. They would see the same wars and the same laws in place for eternity,” Hyunjin countered.

“Ah, the Late Lord Jeon’s writ on the rights of a nobleman. What a crock of shit,” Jackson hummed as he browsed the shelves. He was sipping his liquor as Minho and Hyunjin spoke, browsing through the tomes on the shelves next to their group as he did. Even though he didn't seem too invested, Minho knew it would be unwise to think so.

The Wang were an old name and had ancestral rights to the Southern Border. Across that border, was an endless stretch of desert ruled by a King shunned and forgotten by all except the Wang’s. It was said the family's outlandish politics were an extension of that King's will, and the Wang's did not hide it. If anything, they flaunted it and were the only Great House to push for liberal reform– at least with any visibility.

“He needs you to be his right hand, but the other Lords would never accept you as you are now,” Hyunjin advised, ignoring his friend's outburst.

“What our ever so serious Hyunjin is suggesting is a mummers’ farce. Do your father's bidding where the world can see, while playing your hand behind the scenes,” Jackson said, still making the odd disproving noise as he browsed the books written by less inclined individuals. “It's not ideal, but it's become necessity.”

Minho did not like anything that was being said.

He had spent his whole life concentrating on the belief that rule and power could never end without corruption. It didn't matter how just and moral you were, the reigns of an entire people would callous and blacken your beliefs until your life revolved around cowing populations into submission with the threat of a sword. That was simply how human nature worked.

His beliefs had not come without cause.

The Red Rebellions had torn the realm asunder. It had been all in the name of ridding themselves of a tyrant King Kim. When the Bang's had won, the Kingdom entered a golden age. Arts and philosophy flourished and laws changed to usher in a new world for the people of the time, but history had proven to be cyclic. Even being his own family, Minho could not deny that the reign of the Bang family was heading in the direction of the Kim’s.

His only consolation had been Christopher. He was a just and upright man, but he had been raised to rule under the constant traditionally forged sword of their father. He had never seen the world outside of the Capital, and likely never would.

He would never see the villages in the dense Jungles of the West. The deeper you went into the verdant green, the more sparse populations got until civilization gave way to angry wildness that had retaken abandoned towns; their peoples forever lost to disease. Many still living remained under constant quarantine, never able to leave their homes for fear of spreading illness and death by the swords of those who held them there. They would not be helped. They would die and be forgotten like the others.

He would never know the desperation of the poachers in the Anpanman Woods. They were injured soldiers who had served the realm only to be discarded when they were no longer of use. They were green boys who were forced to support their families. They were the downtrodden no one cared for until they stepped on the toes of a Lord.

He would never see the sorrow of the wives of the Eastern Coast. Their husbands left them with babes still at the breast to mine gold in the crown controlled Free Isles. For the cost of the Crown's coffers, a lot of them would perish at sea or in the mines. They would never see their children grow.

Christopher would have to connect with his people. He would have to live amongst them to remember that it was not a Nation he ruled, but living humans with lives and stories of their own. Forgetting that was often the fall of a good King. He could not forget. Minho would not let him.

“Give me a script and dress me in motley, damnit.”

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz ff #stray kids ff #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #lee know ff #lee know smut #lee minho fanfic #lee minho smut #lee minho ff

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miracleonice87 · 1 year

Text

something in the way she moves

with Jack Hughes

for the summer fic exchange 2k23

a/n: I’ve been in my Taylor Swift and Jack Hughes era all summer, so what better way to write my exchange fic for @wyattjohnston than to combine those two subjects into one project for her? this one was originally inspired by “Question…?” and ended up tying together several Taylor songs all at once – check out the companion playlist for all of those and more songs that inspired the fic! also, shoutout to Brady and Emma’s wedding for providing the perfect backdrop for this story after I stalled out with ideas for the perfect present-day setting. lots of special guests appear in this one! finally, some people might hate the flashback format with all the jumping around, but I’ve been watching a lot of “The Summer I Turned Pretty” so you can thank the show for that! hope everyone enjoys… but especially @wyattjohnston. this one’s for you, my friend! endless thanks to you for putting on this wonderful exchange for us all, and for inviting me to be part of it. (and thanks to the lovely @laurenairay for the assist!)

tropes: whirlwind romance, exes to lovers, fluff, angst

warnings: swearing, alcohol, mention of breakup, arguing / conflict, sexual references but nothing graphic or detailed, quinn and luke and brady and matthew being pests, miles wood being a drunken hooligan lolol

word count: ~8,500+ (hey who knew I still knew how to write long fic)

_____

July 21, 2023 – present day – Brady and Emma Tkachuk’s wedding – Peapack-Gladstone, New Jersey…

“Can I ask you a question?”

Jack tucked his chin to his chest, busying himself with studying the pattern of the brick patio beneath his smart white sneakers. Whatever question Francesca had in mind, he was absolutely sure he was unprepared for it. But he nodded anyway.

Fran stared at his profile as he shuffled his feet beneath him, but as he lifted his head to look at her, she looked away, unable to meet his eyes as she forged ahead. Her gaze settled across the horizon instead, the moonlight casting a glow across the rolling green hills of Natirar.

She sighed, then bit the bullet. “Does it feel like everything’s just like… second best now?” she inquired listlessly.

Jack chuckled sadly, fiddling nervously with the neck of his amber beer bottle. Anybody who knew Jack knew he was never nervous. Except for where Fran was involved. She was the only person who had ever been able to do anything remotely resembling rattling him.

“What, after that meteor strike?” he asked sarcastically.

That’s what it felt like, at least – that night two years ago, when his team was out celebrating the end of their abysmal season before separating for the summer, the very same night her roommates had dragged her kicking and screaming from Fordham’s campus, across the Hudson, to see some indie band for one last hurrah before they went their own respective ways until fall semester, and Jack and Fran found themselves in the same crowded Hoboken bar. It felt like a meteor had crashed directly in his path that May night and blown up his entire life as he had known it.

He nodded wearily before answering his now ex-girlfriend’s, as well as his own rhetorical, question.

“Yeah, Fran. Yeah… it definitely does.”

Because second best was all that anything could have ever been, following the sensational rise and the staggering fall of Jack Hughes and Francesca DeLuca.

He’d never forget the very moment he first laid eyes on her…

___

May 1, 2021 – two years earlier…

From Jack’s perch at the bar next to Nico, nursing a Moscow mule, the girl in the pale yellow halter dress was impossible to miss.

He’d never believed in love at first sight, but as he surveyed the way that dress hugged her curves as she danced with her girlfriends, belting out the lyrics to “Peaches” to Justin Bieber, he thought for the first time that he might be completely wrong about that notion. He watched her hips sway enticingly, her olive-toned skin glowing beneath the bright multicolored lights, dark curls bouncing along with her every step.

Before he knew it, his feet were taking steps of their own, ditching Nico mid-sentence as the young captain stood dumbfounded, arms flung out to his sides in annoyance as Jack sauntered away. As he watched Jack approach a circle of dancing young women, he zeroed in on the one in the yellow dress right away, knowing immediately that she was the reason for the abrupt end to his conversation with his teammate. As he saw Jack approach her, Nico could only smile and roll his eyes as he wandered off to find the rest of the Devils crew, assuming they’d lost #86 to the girl in the yellow dress for the rest of the evening.

Meanwhile, for once, Jack didn’t have a plan, no course of action – didn’t have a pick-up line prepared, didn’t have anything clever in mind to say when he reached the girl in the yellow dress. When he finally did, she had her back to him, and it was only thanks to her perceptive friend, who pressed her lips into a straight line and tapped the woman on the shoulder, pointing to where he stood, that she even turned around and noticed Jack over her shoulder.

And when she finally did lay eyes on him… well, she was as sunk as he was.

Nothing was said between the two for a few moments, only bashful smiles exchanged. The girl took a few steps toward him, and he eventually found the wherewithal to open his mouth, praying that whatever was about to tumble from his lips wouldn’t make him look like a complete idiot.

“Hi… I like your dress.”

Okay, could’ve been better, could’ve been worse.

The girl’s lips spread into a grin, one that made Jack’s stomach flip over itself.

“Thanks,” she said, glancing down to what she was wearing as if she herself had forgotten. Then her eyes scanned his outfit. “I, uh, I like yours, too.”

A giggle escaped Jack before he could stop it, and instead of making things awkward, it seemed to endear the girl to him further.

“Thanks,” he muttered. And then no other words came to mind.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, he berated himself. Say something else, you jackass.

Thankfully, the girl saved them both from complete and total disaster and rescued Jack from himself.

“I’m Francesca,” she said, raising her voice above the thumping music which seemed to get louder with every passing moment. “But everyone calls me Fran.”

Jack extended a hand for a gentlemanly shake, making Fran smile as she grasped it in hers.

“It’s nice to meet you, Fran,” he said, ducking his head close to her ear so that he, too, could be heard above the music… and maybe because it provided the perfect opportunity to be closer to her. “I’m Jack. And everyone calls me Jack.”

That earned a full-on chuckle from Fran which warmed Jack from the inside out. He watched her, grinning from ear to ear, amused by her amusement and encouraged by the fact that him introducing himself hadn’t seemed to spark any instances of the often inescapable “don’t I know you from somewhere?” or “you look so familiar” or, worse, “you play hockey, right?” He could be jinxing it, or she could just have a really impressive poker face, but it seemed that Fran truly had no earthly idea what he did for a living… and that delighted him to no end.

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Jack,” she replied, still allowing her hand to be enveloped by his. “Are you from around here?”

Jackpot.

He fidgeted with the cocktail glass in his hand, making the melting ice cubes clink against the side. “Ah, kind of a long story,” he admitted truthfully with a smirk.

She glanced at her wrist as if checking her watch, though there was no timepiece to be seen.

“Well, I’ve got time,” she retorted playfully. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Jack shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely not, but I’ll buy you one and tell you all about it,” he said, nodding in the direction of the bar. “After you.”

Fran eagerly took the lead, heading straight for the bar as he followed close behind. Once they reached the counter, she rested her elbows on its edge and waited patiently for the bartender to take the orders of the other patrons who had been waiting far longer than the two of them.

But as Jack sidled up to her, resting one arm dangerously, though comfortably, close to hers against the cool aluminum bartop, his chest pressed just close enough to her back to be noteworthy but not overbearing, she noticed that the bartender’s eyes flickered toward him immediately, an immediate smile crossing the woman’s face. Francesca was even more confused, and admittedly disheartened, when the bartender ditched the entire far side of the bar in favor of beelining it toward Jack.

“What can I get you, sweet cheeks?” the bartender said in a syrupy cadence, leaning over the counter as if to make sure Jack noticed her sizable chest on display in her black sports bra.

Blegh, Fran thought. Maybe this guy isn’t such a good idea…

Unfazed, he asked, “Hey, can I please get another vodka cran and then…” Jack motioned to Fran.

“Uh, Bud Light, please?” she ordered, repeating the same go-to drink she’d already had half a dozen of.

Jack pursed his lips to attempt to avoid a full-blown grin. He couldn’t help but love a girl who loved her beer.

The bartender nodded, knocking on the counter and turning toward the taps.

Fran tried to put the awkward encounter with the bartender to the back of her mind for the moment and turned 90 degrees so that she could face Jack more easily.

“So, you are or you aren’t from around here?” she asked, returning to the question that had led the two of them here originally.

Jack smiled, weighing his options. This question was always a complicated one to answer… but something about explaining it to Fran put him oddly at ease.

“So we, uh, we moved around a bit because my dad was a hockey player before he had kids, and then a coach for years while I was growing up,” he began.

“Oh, nice! I don’t know much about hockey,” she told him, shaking her head. “Big on playing sports but never big on watching them.”

Oh, my god, he thought to himself as he nodded, trying to seem casual. It’s like this girl was built in a lab just for me.

However, he didn’t know whether this next part would seem better or worse to a girl who wasn’t a sports fan. But it was his reality, so he decided to lay it bare.

“Gotcha, um… so, I… also play hockey.”

Francesca’s eyebrows shot up.

“Wow… really?”

Jack nodded again, then cleared his throat.

“Yeah, uh, that’s actually why I’m here tonight,” he explained. “All my teammates are here. Our season just ended and everybody’s about to separate for the summer, so we came out for one last night together for a while.”

It was Fran’s turn to nod as the bartender approached, and Jack thanked her and pushed a large bill across the counter. Fran busied herself with running her finger along the rim of her glass, pretending like she didn’t notice the generous denomination. Jack leaned an elbow against the counter to face her, in hopes of continuing the conversation.

“So… wait, you play for, what, the Rangers? Islanders?” she asked, pulling the names of the teams she vaguely recalled from the cobwebbed recesses of her brain.

Jack smacked a hand to his chest dramatically as if he’d just been shot.

“God, Fran,” he hissed, “you really know how to wound me.”

“What?!” she asked, sputtering with laughter. “I dunno! Are those the wrong team names?!”

Jack shook his head, entertained. “No, no,” he assured. “You were right – those are NHL teams, but I play for the Devils. They play just over in Newark.”

“Oh… right,” Fran said softly, biting her lip and tucking her chin to her chest, praying she somehow didn’t look as stupid as she felt.

Jack lowered his head to try and meet her eyes, squeezing her elbow gently. The simple touch alone sent a bolt of electricity through her being.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed,” he said with an easy chuckle. “Trust me, it’s way better having to explain all this to you than having you come up and recite it all to me like some creepy walking encyclopedia.”

Francesca forced a tight smile, but still stared at her shoes. In a gutsy move, he reached his thumb and forefinger to grasp her chin and gently tilt her head upward.

“C’mon, lemme see that pretty face,” he said in a gravelly tone, one that made her spine shiver.

Just as she found herself leaning into his touch, she saw a tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered man approaching Jack from behind, unsteady on his feet. She assumed that this was one of his teammates, as the taller man went to sling a noodly arm around Jack’s shoulders.

“Uh, look out-” Fran warned… but it was too late.

The man’s hand flung Jack’s glass clean out of his grip, sending its red liquid contents splashing all over Fran’s chest and stomach before hitting the floor, thankfully hitting a sopping wet rug beneath the bar, which was the only thing that kept it from shattering into a million pieces.

They both gasped in the process, and Jack instinctively grabbed her by the forearm.

“Oh, my god! Omigod, fuck, Fran, I-I’m so sorry,” he lamented. “Woody! Fuck!” he yelled to the drunken man who apologized apathetically, then disappeared into the crowd.

Fran blinked quickly, her mouth in a tight “o” as she set aside her beer. As a wincing Jack stupidly patted her torso with the flimsy cocktail napkin that had been handed to him with his drink, he took in her expression and felt sick to his stomach.

Well, there you have it, he thought to himself. No way she’s ever gonna see me again after this…

What he hadn’t accounted for, though, was that after the initial shock of wearing the cold drink faded, Fran would throw her head back in uproarious laughter, eyes screwed up tight in hilarity.

Jack let one nervous snicker escape him, and then another, and then another… and by the time thirty seconds had passed, the two of them were breathless in fits of giggles, Jack keeping a firm hand on the crook of Fran’s arm.

“Are you okay?” he managed to utter as they finally began to settle down.

She nodded, wiping tears of hysteria away with her wrist.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she promised, splaying a hand on her chest as she glanced down at the maroon stain on her yellow dress. “I’m just dying because this is my roommate’s dress and she made me swear not to spill anything on it,” she admitted, erupting with laughter all over again. “So much for that.”

Jack’s eyes glittered as he watched her chuckle. “Well, the blame lies squarely on me, so I’ll apologize to her for that one,” he told her, beaming. He cleared his throat before venturing forward. “Hey, my place isn’t far and I think I’ve got some club soda in the fridge… whad’ya say we-”

Before he could finish his thought, Fran picked up where Jack had left off before the drink had been spilled, pressing a hand assertively to his cheek and leaning forward to plant a firm kiss to his lips. Neither of them knew how much time had passed before she eventually pulled away, biting her bottom lip coyly.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, smoothing the back of his finger across her cheekbone. He watched a Cheshire grin spread across her now-swollen lips, and she offered an enthusiastic nod.

He trailed his fingertips down her bare arm, sending chills across her skin despite the heat and humidity of the bar, before he reached for her hand.

“Then let’s go.”

After a short cab ride brimming with stolen glances and squeezes of hands, the two were practically sprinting through his front door, Jack not bothering to even turn on the lights in favor of keeping his hands securely on Fran’s lower back, holding her desperately close as his lips danced across hers with simultaneous ease and desire.

Eventually, he carefully backed her into his kitchen and hoisted her onto the counter, feeling her quiver when the cool marble hit the backs of her thighs.

He smiled against her lips and said roughly, “I gotta get you that club soda.”

She shook her head without breaking away from his kiss.

“It can wait,” she whispered insistently. “Just get me outta this dress.”

Jack smirked, his fingers immediately following orders as they searched for the zipper in the middle of her back.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he retorted, finally pulling the zipper down, allowing him to tug the dress over her head. He offered it to her, one last chance to take care of the task they came here under the guise of doing – removing the maroon stain from the gauzy garment. Instead, she tossed it aside, watching as it floated to the tile floor before grasping Jack’s shoulders purposefully, leaning in to speak against the delicate skin of his ear.

“I want you,” she admitted, nipping at his earlobe.

And after he carried her to his bedroom, she had him, had her fill of him – just the way they both wanted, their union the perfect balance between urgent and reverent, as if they both already knew that whatever this was between the two of them was something meant to be cherished.

More than an hour later, after making the mutual decision that it was time for a snack and a little something else to drink in order to replenish their strength, Jack left her alone with her thoughts in the quiet of his bedroom as he made his way back to the kitchen, donning only a pair of sweats, smiling when he picked up the now-rumpled yellow dress and placed it in his spacious farmhouse-style sink. He secured the drain stopper and retrieved the club soda from the refrigerator, still smirking to himself as he poured the stain-fighting liquid over the fabric to ensure it was completely immersed.

As he turned back to the fridge on the hunt for a satisfactory snack, Jack saw Fran emerge from his bedroom wearing nothing but one of his white dress shirts and a clean pair of his boxers.

She grimaced, and he sensed her unease even from a few yards away.

“I’m sorry, I just kinda put on the first things I found in your closet,” she said, one eye squeezed shut as if it pained her to make the admission. “I hope that’s okay. I swear I don’t make it a habit to put on a guy’s clothes like I own the place, but I, uh… didn’t exactly have a dress to put back on,” she pointed out.

Still distracted by the sight of her in his clothes, he shook his head rapidly.

“No, no, of course… I’m taking care of that as we speak,” he assured, nodding his head in the direction of the sink. “And you can wear whatever you want of mine – I should’ve laid something out for you, but… this is perfect.” He took a few slow steps toward her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “You look amazing,” he said, his voice deep once again.

Francesca bloomed under his praise, preened beneath his touch as he reached out to stroke her cheek, his thumb coming to rest on her plush lips.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pursing her lips to kiss the pad of his thumb.

It took every ounce of gentlemanly will in Jack not to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back into the bedroom again. Instead, he forced himself to take a step back and motion toward the adjacent living room.

“Go on and make yourself comfortable,” he urged as she glanced toward the expansive space. “I’ll grab us a couple things and be right over.”

Fran nodded and obliged, entering the inviting area and finding herself immediately drawn to the vintage Victrola on a shelf on the far side of the room.

Meanwhile, after coming up empty in the liquor cabinet and noticing that the refrigerator was fresh out of beer, Jack opened a crummy bottle of wine he was certain Ty had bought once for a date but had never been touched. He poured two glasses and set them on a sturdy wooden tray, then scrounged through the cupboards to find some crackers that weren’t stale to go along with the Gouda and sopressata he’d found in the fridge. Pleased that he accomplished his mission, he arranged all of the items on the tray and carried it into the living room. As he set it on the coffee table, he found Fran admiring the shelves displaying his substantial collection of vinyls. Upon hearing him approach, a glass of wine for her in hand, Fran turned his way.

“You have quite the record collection there, Mr. Tough Guy Hockey Jock,” she teased, brows raised as she gratefully accepted the glass. “And not just the trendy new stuff, the good stuff – Sinatra, the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, Bowie, Pink Floyd. I’m impressed.”

Jack smirked. “Thanks – to be fair, I inherited a bunch of them from my parents and grandparents. They’d move and they’d always threaten to sell these on eBay but I wouldn’t let ‘em,” he explained. “Go ahead, put one on – anything.”

His request was easier said than done, and as he turned away to close the blinds throughout the room, chomping on cheese and crackers, she faced the impossible task of choosing one, eventually settling on James Taylor’s “Something in the Way She Moves.”

He smiled when he heard the first strains, and her eyes met his when she turned away from the record player after setting the needle.

“Great choice,” he praised, the two of them crossing the room toward one another as if at the mercy of some magnetic force.

“One of my mom’s favorites,” she explained, fingers toying with the hem of the dress shirt as the folksy melody swirled throughout the room.

There's something in the way she moves Or looks my way, or calls my name That seems to leave this troubled world behind…

When they were no more than a foot apart, Jack opened his palm and held it out toward her.

“Dance with me,” he less invited, more demanded, not that Fran minded. She instantly slipped her fingers into his and took a step nearer so that their chests were pressed impossibly close.

She in his shirt and boxers, he in a pair of sweats, neither of them in shoes, they twirled around his living room as if attending a royal ball, until an unmistakable scratch signaled the end of the record… but by then, Jack and Fran were already locked in each others’ embrace again, the only sounds in the room the panting breaths escaping their lips between fiery kisses.

They never did make it back to the bedroom that night, didn’t even ever find sleep where they stayed curled up together in the living room, talking and laughing through the wee hours. Instead, when the sun rose, their only hint that morning had already come, they were sitting on the hardwood floor, laughing with her feet in his lap like he was her closest friend and not some random boy she’d met at a bar mere hours before.

“How’d we end up on the floor anyway?” Jack said, rubbing at a kink in his neck as one hand stayed fixed on her ankles.

Fran lifted the empty bottle of wine next to where she lay, and his eyes reluctantly traveled away from her face and toward her hands.

“Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rose, that’s how,” she retorted, reminding him of the bottle they’d shared after all the drinks they’d already indulged in at the bar.

“Mmm…” he hummed with lifted brows, both of them chuckling at the culprit as she set it back down on the hardwood. “So… coffee?” he inquired, desperate for this night – or, well, now morning – not to end. Desperate for Fran to stay here, with him, and never leave.

To his delight, she cocked her head against the throw pillow and offered him the warmest smile he’d ever seen.

“I’d love some,” she answered simply, realizing she’d be content to never see the outside world, anything beyond the walls of this Hoboken house, again.

They saw each other every day for the next year and a half after that, and starting with that very first one, Jack had painted all Fran’s nights a color she had searched for since.

And still, to this day, she couldn’t remember who she was before him.

___

July 21, 2023 – present day…

“This day,” that is, being Brady and Emma Tkachuk’s wedding day. Which after the breakup, Fran had never anticipated being present for.

But then came the phone call in the dead of winter, just weeks after she’d ended it with Jack. She was still reeling, trying to push through the pain while focusing on excelling in her last semester of undergrad, but anyone who knew her could see that she was struggling, including mutual friends of hers and Jack’s. Which soon made its way back to Emma via Brady.

And when Fran saw Emma’s name on her screen that day as she studied for an exam, she smiled. She hadn’t talked to Emma since before the split, and despite knowing it was more than likely going to be a covert check-up call, Fran was happy to hear from the girl she’d become so close to in the last two years.

___

February 18, 2023 – five months ago…

Fran tapped the “answer” button and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hi, Em,” she said warmly.

“Hi! I miss you! Brady’s here, too,” Emma explained.

“Franny D!” he called over the speakerphone.

“Hey, B! I miss you guys, too,” she said sadly. “How are you guys?”

“We’re good!” Emma answered. “Neck-deep in wedding planning. I know it’s gonna be fun but it’s honestly kinda brutal.”

“Brutal, Franny,” Brady echoed dramatically. “It’s torture.”

Fran chuckled. “What, B, not enjoying picking out linen colors? Did you go with eggshell or warm white?”

“Couldn’t tell ya, Franny,” he replied. “If I had it my way, none of the tables would be covered and everybody’d just be playing beer pong on ‘em.”

Fran swore she could hear Emma’s eye roll. “You’re such a dude,” Fran complained.

“He’s not kidding about making that suggestion, either,” Emma said, feigning (or maybe not) weariness. “But, um, that’s not why we’re calling. First of all, we, uh… we just wanted to see how you were.”

Fran swallowed, staring out the window of her apartment, watching the snow swirl among the towering skyscrapers and across bustling streets. She’d been having trouble answering that question at all, let alone honestly. She reached to rub her palm up and down the length of her shin, suddenly feeling cold.

“I’m, um… I mean, I’ve been better, that’s for sure,” she told them. “I just… I really never thought this would happen, to be totally honest.” Her voice was quieter now, the familiar lump in her throat quivering.

Emma made a sound of understanding.

“Us either, Franny,” Brady gently concurred. “And I know you don’t wanna hear this right now, but I know Jacky didn’t think so either.”

Fran sighed, dropping her chin to her chest as her eyes fell to the azure crewneck with the maize Michigan logo emblazoned on the front, which Jack had left behind once after a trip to visit Luke. She had never returned it, and he eventually noticed it in the background of a FaceTime call while he was on a road trip and told her to keep it because he was certain it looked better on her anyway. And now it hurt to look at it, and it hurt to wear it, and it hurt to not wear it, so she went with wearing it, because even though she’d been the only one to don it for a year, she swore it still smelled like him. Unconsciously, she closed her eyes and breathed deep.

“I know,” she said softly.

“We didn’t wanna make you sad, Fran, but the other reason we were calling is just to say that we’d really like to invite you to the wedding in July-”

Brady interrupted his fiancee. “No, we are inviting you to the wedding, no question,” he said firmly. “But we just want you to know that it’s completely up to you whether you wanna come.”

“Yes,” Emma jumped in again. “We would absolutely love to have you there, because you mean so much to both of us, but we totally get it if it’s too much. Quinn’s in the wedding and we’re inviting their whole family, so… obviously Jack will be there.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she cleared her throat. “Y-yeah, of course, as he should be,” Fran managed. “I really appreciate the invitation, you guys. Seriously, it means so much to me. I’ll check the dates on my calendar, but I’d really love to come-”

Before she could even finish her thought, she heard a loud clap and a “FUCK YEAH!” from Brady, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re the best, Franny D,” he said. “And I’ll promise Quinny’ll keep Jacky on his best behavior.”

“Plus Ellen’ll be there, so you know he’s not getting away with shit,” Emma offered.

“You guys are too much,” Fran said affectionately. “It’s your day – I don’t need you worrying about me and J.” She felt a stab in her heart at her own use of the retired pet name, one that was once used so frequently and so fondly but was now avoided like a plague. She swallowed that lump in her throat again. “We’ll be fine.”

“We know you will,” Brady said softly. “Well, listen, we’ll let you go but, uh… thanks, Franny. I really hope you can make it.”

“Yes, we really do!” Emma reiterated. “We love you, Fran. Talk soon.”

“I love you guys, too,” she told them. “Thanks for calling.”

And Brady must not have been able to keep the news to himself, because within a few hours of agreeing to attend the Tkachuk wedding, her phone had buzzed four more times with text messages from four members of the Hughes clan:

Lukey: yooo B just told me you’re coming to the wedding!!! hell yes, sista 👊 see you soon

Quinny: Franny D, super happy to hear you’re coming to B’s wedding. we love ya, no matter what. can’t wait to see ya

Ellen: Hi, my sweet girl 💖 Chantal just told me that you’re planning to come to Brady and Emma’s wedding. I’m so happy to hear it! I’m counting down the days until I see you. Love always 💋

Jim: Hey Franny! Can’t wait to see you at the Tkachuk wedding this summer. Really glad you’re planning to go. ❤️

The only member of the family that her phone didn’t sound with a message from that night?

Jack.

The one that it hurt the most not to hear from.

She set her phone aside that night and swallowed, hard, pulling her legs to her chest and resting her forehead on her knees. Preparing to see Jack in person for the first time in months was going to be impossible enough, but seeing his entire family… that just might be enough to break her.

Because she’d never fallen out of love with them, either.

___

July 21, 2023 – present day…

And today, after a heartbreakingly long hug with Ellen before the ceremony, and affectionate but melancholy greetings from Jim and Luke, here Fran stood in the midst of Brady’s reception, in front of the middle Hughes son who never did text her leading up to this moment. When he’d seen her approach his family’s seats a few minutes before today’s ceremony, he had only just stood up from his chair at the far end of their row to try and make his way toward her when the processional music started, leaving both of them frozen in place, staring helplessly at one another. She’d mouthed sorry, and he’d nodded and mouthed we’ll talk, as his family sat still between them, awkwardly trying to avoid making eye contact with the estranged couple lest they make the moment even more painful for them than it already was.

When Fran turned to find the nearest single seat, she could feel the tingling heat creeping up her neck, and it wasn’t from the summer sun. She’d spent months agonizing over what she would say to Jack when she finally saw him again, and she still couldn’t believe that the first thing she’d spoken aloud after they’d found each other on the deck for a quiet moment alone was “can I ask you a question?” But how else was she supposed to begin the conversation, anyway?

And at least he’d agreed – conceded that nothing had yet felt as good as the two of them had. For the past six months, she’d been terrified that nothing ever would, and she had to admit, it felt good to know that he seemed to share that same belief.

It felt good and it felt awful all at the same time.

Fran sighed, lifting her gaze to the shimmering stars far above their heads.

“Why are we doing this?” she whispered, half to herself and half to him.

Jack gave her a quizzical look; she was all over the place right now… not that he didn’t feel completely undone and frazzled himself.

“What? Talking? I dunno, Fran, I can go back inside, but I wasn’t just gonna sit in there all night and ignore y-”

Fran stopped him, shaking her head. “No, that’s not what I mean,” she said, a noticeable exhaustion in her tone, one that Jack recognized in his own voice often these days. “I just mean… this hurts so bad, J. And it doesn’t have to – didn’t have to. We were so good together… why did-”

“Because you said it was too much, Fran,” Jack accused, sharply though accurately, remembering how the pressure of being in a serious relationship with one of North America’s most heralded professional athletes at such a young age had often left her curled up in a ball in the corner, something that at 20 and then 21 years old, he had found himself completely unprepared to handle.

“And I made the wrong choice!” Fran admitted, her voice rising an octave by the end of the sentence as her emotions took over. “At least I can admit it. Can you? I mean, you’re the one who left my house in the middle of the night, without even trying to put up a fight. Can you admit that you were in the wrong, too?”

Yeah, I can, he immediately thought to himself, though he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it.

Instead his mind flashed to the very moment in time where he knew he had indeed made the wrong choice.

___

April 3, 2023 – three months earlier…

Jack was trying his hardest to pay attention to his date. He truly was.

In a well-meaning but doomed-from-the-start attempt to help him get over Fran, one of the team WAGs had set him up with her college roommate who had recently moved to the city. So here he was at dinner following a Broadway show he’d never even heard of before, which he had bought tickets to specifically because he knew he wouldn’t have to speak to the girl for at least a couple of hours but would still come away looking like the hero for dropping money on expensive tickets for date number one.

What he hadn’t accounted for, when she had unsurprisingly suggested that they grab a bite to eat after the show at Sugarfish on 56th and Broadway, was that he’d spot, through the front window, Francesca walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand with some guy, laughing with him as he told what were no doubt painfully lame attempts at jokes to try and impress her.

Jack’s blood ran cold, his jaw muscles flexing as he clenched his teeth together, his date still rambling on about her so-called career as a “business owner.” (See also: owner of an Instagram account where she posted regular thirst traps and tagged the brands she wore, unprompted. See also: a quasi-influencer. See also: a Kardashian wanna-be.) Which provided him the perfect opportunity to get lost in his own spiraling thoughts.

Granted, this restaurant wasn't that far from Fran’s apartment on 52nd, a fact which Jack was painfully aware of throughout the entirety of the show and the meal. But goddamn it… this city was filled with eight million people besides her and that dickhead guy, but they just happened to be the two who caught his gaze.

Which maybe wouldn’t have bothered Jack so much if it didn’t look like Fran was actually enjoying the guy’s company.

He slouched in his chair and spoke as few words as possible for the rest of the meal, and when it had finally, mercifully, ended, he called her an Uber, waited until she had gotten picked up, sulked to his car, and deleted her number.

___

July 21, 2023 – present day…

“Well? Can you?” Fran repeated, losing patience as she wondered where his mind had just wandered off to.

“Yeah, I can,” Jack said simply, deciding to lay all his cards on the table at the recall of the recent memory.

Fran’s head snapped toward him. Being that he was by far the most stubborn person she had ever known, she hadn’t expected him to fess up to that. Her mouth opened as she thought of what to say next, then closed it when nothing came to mind quickly enough.

“I can tell you exactly when I realized it, too,” Jack said with a smile devoid of humor, licking his lips – the very same lips she used to call home. “I saw you with some guy walking down 56th a few months ago. And it felt… fuck, it just felt like I was out of time.”

Francesca blinked repeatedly, confusion etched on her features. Though she knew who she would have been with that night, she didn’t even remember the exact instance he was referring to, so it obviously hadn’t left all that much of an impression upon her. But that’s not the information she wanted to inquire about.

“W-what do you mean, ‘out of time’?” she asked, her volume much lower now.

Jack met her with sad eyes, pursing his lips. He shrugged a shoulder.

“I dunno, I guess… I guess I was holding out hope that somehow, we’d work it out,” he replied, his voice suddenly sounding hoarse. “I just always thought it would be us in the end. But seeing you with someone new, I… I just lost that hope.”

Tears pricked at the backs of Fran’s eyelids and she looked away, swiping at her eyes with the side of her hand.

“There’s never been anyone else… I mean, not… not really,” she was suddenly saying, caught off guard that she was opening up so much. “That was the closest I got, but it was only for a few weeks, and he ended it because he said I was being distant. And he was right. I just, I wasn’t in it. Not at all.”

Jack watched her the entire time she spoke, then nodded slowly. He understood that feeling all too well.

“I get it,” he said softly. “Trust me.”

As the two of them let their respective admissions hang between them in the thick summer air, falling into a contemplative silence, unbeknownst to them, a tipsy Luke had made his way back to the open bar at the edge of the dancefloor, which was situated just inside the tall French doors leading to the venue’s back patio where his brother and Fran stood alone as the party raged on. Luke’s eyes never left the acrimonious pair as he ordered himself not one, but two more gin and tonics, then darted, drinks in hand, across the room to where his parents and Quinn sat at a table chatting.

“Luke Warren Hughes, you’d better slow down on the double fisting,” Ellen warned in her best mom voice.

Luke waved her off. “Yeah, whatever – guys, listen to me, this is important,” he urged, out of breath. “Jacky and Franny are outside by themselves talking.”

“What?!” Quinn exclaimed, jumping up from his chair so quickly and so forcefully that it would have tipped over if not for Jim’s quick reflexes, as he shook his head in disapproval. As he watched his eldest son jog to the same door Luke had just been standing near to peer through the panels for himself, Jim scoffed.

“You guys need to give them their privacy – they’ve been through enough,” he stated firmly.

“Yes, and you wouldn’t like it if your brothers were spying on you and a girl,” Ellen pointed out.

Luke swallowed a gulp of his cocktail and beamed.

“Yeah, but… it’s not just some girl. It’s Jack and Fran,” he declared, shaking his head in excited disbelief before following after his brother.

Having lost both their sons to espionage, Ellen and Jim’s eyes met, and they shared a knowing, hopeful smirk.

“It is Jack and Fran,” Jim repeated in a voice near a whisper, tipping the rim of his beer bottle toward his wife, who clinked it with her champagne glass.

“Cheers to that… no matter what happens,” she said softly.

Back outside, ignorant to the fact that they were being carefully watched, Jack was surprised when Fran breathed a laugh through her nose, finally breaking the silence. Her cheeks warmed at the memory replaying in her mind.

“Remember that first night we spent together, at your place in Hoboken? What we did after Miles made you spill that drink on me?” she asked, unaware that he had played those sacred scenes over in his mind hundreds if not thousands of times in the past two years just as she had, particularly when they were each alone in their beds in the dead of night.

“Of course I do,” he replied quietly. “It’s kinda… all I ever do. Well, that night and… a-and lots of other nights after that.” He caught her stare and somberly confessed, “I feel you no matter what.”��

Fran took a few daring steps closer, her hand brushing his. She leaned in so close that her lips nearly grazed the shell of his ear.

“Do you wish you could still touch me, Jack?” she whispered, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on its end.

He slowly exhaled through pursed lips, trying and failing to steady his now-racing pulse.

“Every fuckin’ day, Fran,” he said with little hesitation, turning his head so that their noses were mere centimeters from each other.

“Is it too late to do something about it?” she asked, her eyes locked with his.

“With us?” he let out a singular chuckle. “It’s never too late with us, Fran.”

She smiled so wide it made her cheeks ache, and she ran a hand down the lapel of his jacket.

“Good, because you look really fuckin’ handsome, and I’ve been wanting to tell you that all night,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

He hummed appreciatively and nuzzled his nose against her temple.

“Funny you say that, because I’ve been wanting to tell you all night that I, uh… I like your dress,” he whispered, recycling the very first compliment he ever bestowed upon her before pressing a kiss to the skin just in front of her ear as she giggled, but the laughter died on her lips as Jack kissed a line from her ear, across her cheekbone, to the tip of her nose, to the corner of her mouth, and finally, to her eager lips, which matched the fervor and neediness of his own. It was as though the pain of the past six months melted away as they each attempted to demonstrate how deeply and passionately they had missed the other, hands in hair, chests flush, soft moans being captured by the other’s mouth…

But it wouldn’t be an important moment in Jack and Fran’s story if there weren’t loved ones meddling nearby.

Now it wasn’t only Luke and Quinn at the doors watching the marvelous scene unfold, but it was Matthew, and Ellie, and Taryn, and Robbie, and all the Fitzgerald kids, and Brady, and Emma. Someone pushed open one of the doors, flooding the patio with a cacophony of cheers and jeers from those closest to them.

“Get a room!” “Finally!” “Jack, this is a family wedding!” “Hand check!” “Oww owwww!”

God… embarrassing.

Reluctantly pulling away from the kiss, Jack growled, resting his forehead against Fran’s as she giggled nervously, before whipping his head toward their audience.

“Don’t you all have a wedding to get back to?” His head swiveled to Brady and Emma. “Especially you two?”

Brady shrugged. “Hey, we already had our kiss, man. You go ‘head,” he encouraged.

Emma giggled, one hand wrapped around her groom’s bicep as she swatted nonchalantly toward Jack and Fran with the other.

“Yeah, carry on. Don’t mind us!” she sang.

Jack rolled his eyes, but all inhibition and worry faded away as Fran grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to meet her lips once more, feeling his frown literally turn upside down into a smirk as he sunk into her, hand finding a familiar home low on her back, dangerously close to the curve of her ass.

And at that, the crowd they’d drawn erupted into a fit of laughter and applause, Quinn and Luke in the middle of it all, pumping their fists simultaneously before clapping their palms together and leaning in for a hug.

They got their sister back.

“What are you kids doin’ over here?” came a booming voice from the back of the group. Jack and Fran watched as the seas parted and Keith Tkachuk made his way to the door, following his younger son’s pointed index finger to find the reunited couple embracing on the patio. His eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead.

“Well, can’t say I didn’t see this one coming!” he bellowed, a jolly twinkle in his eye. “Now, you boneheads have had your fun,” he addressed the group. “Leave these two to have their own.” With a wink, he turned away, and their crowd of clamoring cheerleaders dispersed, whispering animatedly among themselves.

Jack exhaled swiftly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Shoutout Big Walt,” he declared, clearing his throat.

Fran nodded, snickering, and pulled him in by the waist.

“Gotta love ‘em, though, hmm?” she mused, nuzzling her nose against his.

“Mmm, yeah, whatever,” Jack dismissed, a tenacious hand on her cheek as he leaned down to press his lips to hers once again. “Now, where were we?” he teased in a whisper as she smiled against his mouth, her hands traveling beneath his suit jacket, across the familiar expanse of his sculpted back. His hands found their original target and slipped down the small of her back, finally reaching the arc of her rear.

“Mmmm… hello, old friend,” Jack murmured in her ear, earning him a playful smack to the hip.

“Shut up,” she sassed him, but she didn’t mean it, and they both knew it. He fixed his lips to hers over and over again, and though the party roared on inside, mere yards away, it was as if Jack and Fran were the only two people on the face of the earth, their bodies fusing together as if they had always been intended to be one.

It was always like that for the two of them.

Nothing could have pulled them from that moment… except the first strains of “Something in the Way She Moves” by James Taylor echoing from the speakers inside.

The pair froze. She pulled away to hold him at arm’s length, in utter disbelief.

Jack ogled at Fran, the pure longing in his eyes mirrored in hers. His siblings and friends were meddlers, sure… but had they been so thoughtful as to remember that this was their song — had been since that very first night? Or was it simply fate?

Either way, Jack could do nothing but extend his upturned palm toward her.

“Dance with me?” he asked softly.

Suddenly self-conscious, she smoothed a hand through her curls, then swiped at the damp corners of her eyes.

“God, Jack, I’m a mess,” she said with a halfhearted chuckle. “I don’t think I can go back in there right now.”

Jack shrugged. “So what?” he asked, taking hold of her hand and pulling her in, his other arm winding around her. “We’ll dance right here.”

She rested her free hand on his chest, melting at the sweet sentiment. Then, she relaxed into him, tucking her head into his neck where it fit perfectly — always had.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, then rested his cheek atop her head as the song carried on...

There's something in the way she moves Or looks my way, or calls my name That seems to leave this troubled world behind If I'm feeling down and blue Or troubled by some foolish game She always seems to make me change my mind And I feel fine anytime she's around me now She's around me now Almost all the time And if I'm well you can tell she's been with me now She's been with me now quite a long, long time And I feel fine…

Jack’s heart soared, his joy permanently etched on his face, as he swayed side to side with Francesca in his arms. In his wildest dreams, he could have never hoped to have her here with him again like this.

He glanced down at the girl he’d loved since the first time he’d laid eyes on her, saw her eyes fluttered closed in blissful contentment, and brushed his lips across her brow as he whispered, “Fran, you know for me, it’s always you, right?”

He watched the corners of her mouth pull upward even further, and she tipped her face up to meet his.

“I hoped so,” she admitted roguishly. “Because for me, it’s always you, too.”

#the summer fic exchange 2k23 #my writing #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fanfic #jack hughes fanfiction

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