#no that telling stories thing is not at all inspired by the bridge of long live by taylor swift why on EARTH would you think that

[jessicas-pi]

After several polls of coming in second or third or fourth or whateverth place, Bo-Katan's Obitine Flashbacks finally won!

Bo-Katan doesn’t know specifics, but she does know it hasn’t been more than a month.

She lowers her voice. “I’m sorry for your loss, Wren. I know you and the Jedi were… close…”

And Sabine Wren drops her face into her arms, bursting into tears and then apologizing through her hysterical sobs, which tells Bo-Katan exactly how close they were.

Bo-Katan is hit with a feeling of deja vu, like she’s done this before.

Wait.

No.

She has.

Ha ha. Fun.

This is just exactly what she needed right now, another woman brokenhearted over a Jedi.

And she thought the time with her sister had been awkward.

Wren is still rambling, half-incoherently as she rubs her eyes and tries to pull herself together, a mix of excuses and explanations and aching, soul-deep pain.

She says enough to give Bo-Katan another realization.

Unless Bo has entirely misheard—not only did Wren have feelings for the Jedi boy—not only did the Jedi boy have feelings for Wren in return—not only did they confess to each other—they also said the vows, which is, Bo is pretty sure, farther than Satine ever got with her Jedi, and then the thought of Satine and Kenobi gives Bo-Katan the most horrifying notion yet.

“Oh, my gods, are you pregnant?”

Sabine sits up, eyes huge, mouth hanging open in speechless bewilderment.

“Am I… no!”

Her answer is entirely sincere, and Bo-Katan slumps in relief.

Manda be praised. We don’t need more Korkies.

[marvelouslizzie]

A Lonely Night

summary: Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

word count: 1.9K

warnings: 18+, masturbation (fingering, vibrator use), fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n 

A/N: I actually planned this as a 3 part story where we see his POV as well. I hope to write the remaining 2 parts. I hope my inspiration lasts.

The gif represents the smile that ruined the reader. Who can blame her?

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing on such short notice. You're a lifesaver!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

You don’t know how you ended up here. You had no intention of doing something like this. You didn’t intend to think about sex at all, especially not while your roommate is home. But when you saw his charming smile and those shiny blue eyes, you felt a jolt of electricity running through your body. It somehow felt like a 0.5-millisecond orgasm. It doesn’t matter how short it was, though, because you can feel the dampness of your panties, so you have no other choice but do something about it.

The TV is on, and it sounds like Bucky is watching the news. That’s not the sexiest thing to hear while touching yourself, yet you are grateful there’s something that covers the noises you make. It’s not like you are a really loud person. Especially not while touching yourself, but this time… You feel there’s something different about this time. The way your body responds to your own touch is not something you’ve experienced before. Neither is the wetness that is dripping out of you. It’s like your body is desperate for this. Desperate for attention and release.

You keep rubbing your pussy, touching all the different spots that make yourself feel good, and your whole body starts to shake, your ears buzzing, and your mind completely blank except for the image of Bucky. His smile and those blue eyes... You want him to be on top of you, touching you the way you like it, fingering you, telling you to be a good girl for him, and making you come over and over again. Then when you think it’s over you want him to push himself inside you, making your abused pussy clench with need. You can imagine how tired you would feel yet how wonderful it would be to finally have him inside you. He would start slowly, making you ask for it. You would either beg him to give you a break because you can’t come one more time or beg him to go harder, faster so you can just lose yourself. The thought of him consumes you while you are coming. It’s such a sweet orgasm, not all-consuming. It feels like you are floating in the air. So good. Exactly what you needed. What you don’t expect is how long it lasts. 

You don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Self-pleasuring is something you do often, but it never felt this good. Normally you would be done by now: already reached the top and breathing heavily while enjoying your after-glow, but this time it’s like your body wants even more. You can’t stop touching yourself. It just doesn’t stop feeling good, no overstimulation. At least not yet.

So if your body wants more, you are going to give it more. You will continue until you feel absolutely satisfied. That’s why you keep touching yourself, testing what feels the best and using your wetness. You haven’t used an ounce of lube since you started and yet your fingers are unbelievably sticky. You can’t help yourself but raise on your elbows and look at your pussy. You move your fingers apart and the wetness creates a bridge between them.

“Oh my god…”

He just gave you the most charming smile on the face of the earth. Nothing more. Why are you so freaking wet?

You can actually think of a couple of reasons. One of them is not having sex for a while. You don’t remember when was the last time. You can only remember it wasn’t impressive so you came home and took your vibrator out and rode it until you collapsed on the bed, finally feeling satisfied enough to sleep. Since then, you either used your fingers or your vibrator to get off, and your body needed more. A lot more.

The other reason is, your growing crush on Bucky. You knew this would be a problem when you decided to be roommates with him, yet it didn’t stop you. It’s delightful to see his handsome face every day, but it’s also torture. Seeing him getting out of the shower, with only a towel around his waist, or half naked while working out… It’s impossible not to get a crush. And on top of that, he’s super kind. Always considering you. He doesn’t sleep much, you know that, but he never makes any noise at night. Never disturbs you. Never eats your food. He never even brought someone over. At least not yet. You are dreading the day that might happen. It will hurt so badly, and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. Maybe that will help you get over your silly crush. But truth be told, you’d rather have it forever than hear him fucking someone else.

You keep rubbing yourself, over and over again until your head is thrown back. There’s this hunger building inside you. God, you feel like begging even though you are the one touching yourself.

“Please, please, please…” You try to be as quiet as possible. It’s just a whisper.

“I really need it, please…”

You do. You really do. You need to come so hard that you can’t breathe. Maybe then it will be enough. Maybe then you will feel satisfied. Your fingers start working even faster. You can feel your second orgasm, but there’s something on the back of your mind that’s holding you back. The thought of Bucky finding you like this. You don’t want that to happen. So you are holding back a little. You can’t risk it, can you? Otherwise, you won’t be able to look at him. You keep rubbing different spots trying to find the best one for this orgasm. Nothing works until you hear a sound from the living room. Probably Bucky moving around in the apartment. Somehow that sets you off. Your orgasm comes crashing in, taking your breath away while you silently keep touching yourself. You keep going until you can’t anymore. You feel buzzed, breathing heavily. That might be the best orgasm you had lately. You take a deep breath in, and then out. The thought of him catching you was terrifying yet you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. Can you be actually terrified and excited at the same time? If so, that’s exactly how you felt.

You lay there, in the comfort of your bed, and try to collect your mind. A part of you feels guilty because of what you’ve just done. Not the masturbation part, but pleasuring yourself at the thought of Bucky because he has no idea. He probably never even looked at you like that. Still, you can’t help but feel attraction, and it’s not just a physical thing. His personality is making everything worse. If he was just an asshole, everything would be easier, but he had to be the most amazing guy you’ve ever met. So, it’s his fault if you are masturbating to the thought of him, right? He’s just too perfect.

You breathe in and out, trying to deal with the guilt and your racing thoughts. Normally, this would be more than enough. Two back-to-back orgasms and the second one was so fucking intense yet you can still feel the need. It’s right there. Your core is silently begging while your wetness keeps dripping out of you. When you close your eyes and imagine Bucky pushing himself inside you, your muscles contract and your whole body begs for more.

Sighing, you open your bedside drawer. Here it is, your beloved vibrator. You close the drawer and look at it for a couple of seconds, trying to decide if you should really do this. He’s still in the living room, you can still hear the TV. It’s possible you might get caught, yet the hunger inside you takes over any rational thought. 

After a couple of seconds, you finally give in. Slowly, you push the vibrator inside you and your pussy clenches around it. Even without moving or turning it on, it feels amazing. The feeling of being full… You missed it so much. Then you start to move it in and out, slowly. You close your eyes and imagine it’s a real cock inside you, but it’s hard to get lost in that thought. The texture of the vibrator is far from realistic and the size isn’t that impressive. When that doesn’t work out, you turn it on and let yourself feel it. It’s better. Much better but still not enough. 

“God…” You complain silently while changing your position. You flip around and go on all fours, pushing your ass out as much as you can, the way you would do during sex. That finally hits the spot. You grab your pillow with haste and push your face into it, trying to cover any noise you might make.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your muffled moans can’t reach Bucky. He’s watching the TV after all.

“Yess, right there.” The words leave your lips before you are able to process them. Where are these words coming from? Who are you talking to? Is it a fantasy? You don’t know, but it feels good to let it out.

“Oh please, fuck me.” You try to push all the rational thoughts aside. It’s not the time for that.

“Fuck me, daddy, please.” You close your eyes and imagine Bucky again. Him taking his sweet time, edging you until you beg for release. You would give anything, absolutely anything to do this with him.

“Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder,” you mumble and then turn and press the vibration button again. It starts to pulse faster inside you and you feel like there is no air in your lungs anymore. You choke for a second, raising your head up from the pillow, and take a deep breath while your orgasm rips you apart. It’s nothing like you’ve experienced before. A part of your brain thinks you’re unlocking another level of orgasm while the other part is trying to enjoy this feeling while it lasts.

“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” You let your head fall back on the pillow as you keep imagining Bucky. You have no idea how long your orgasm actually lasts. It’s definitely the longest one you’ve ever had. When your pussy starts to feel too sensitive you take out the vibrator and turn it off. 

Finally, you are feeling satisfied. You place the vibrator on top of your nightstand while you get on your back again. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you notice the lack of TV noise.

Shit.

Why did he turn the TV off? And more important, when? You look at the clock on the wall in front of you and the news program is not over yet. Did he hear you? 

God, please... Don’t let that happen.

You quickly stand up, putting your clothes back on quickly, and then you open the door as carefully as possible. The living room is empty. All you can hear is the shower running.

Thank god!

Bucky is taking a shower. So even with no TV on, he couldn’t have possibly heard you. The sound of the water would cover your moans, right? You hope so at least.

You go back to your room, clueless about the fact that Bucky heard everything, how he paid attention to every single detail, trying to memorize how you sound while coming. How you moan, how you rub yourself, and how needy you are.

Feeling like a creep, he jumped in the shower. Clearly, you were imagining someone else, and he had no right to listen to something as private as this. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop imaging how it would be the one that you call daddy. And he definitely couldn't stop his left hand from wrapping around his cock.

[the-crimson]

I’m just spinning q!bbh in my mind rn I’ve got theories and analysis and bits of it are a stretch and it is rambly and long so it’s going under a cut but here we go XD

Everything he’s done since the eggs were taken has been so incredibly deliberate and he developed this plan when he was in the depths of the greatest despair. According to what he told Baghera today, he developed this plan before the anger stream when he lava cast the presidential office as that was part of the plan to draw out the workers.

So Bad blatantly lying and gaslighting and just being incredibly suspicious to everyone today feels deliberate. It feels like he’s intentionally burning these bridges. The whole gun debacle is a great example of this. I saw a post that suspected bbh took Ron to test Baghera and her loyalty to him by doing something he knows she’d disapprove of and while I don’t think that’s why he took Ron, I defiantly think that’s part of it.

The whole gun thing I feel is Bad’s test for Forever. Bad has lied to his face and changed the story so many times that even when Bad tells him the truth Forever doesn’t care. I think Bad is intentionally pushing Forever just like he is Baghera. He’s pushing him to see what it would take for Forever to cut ties. It’s brutal and is actively hurting Forever just like how Baghera was hurt learning what Bad had done to Ron.

Bad feels no guilt for what he’s done to Ron. All he cares about is what others would think of his actions. He knows what he’s doing is “wrong” but he doesn’t care. Such black and white morality is beneath him. He’s doing what he thinks is necessary.

And that includes his own self destruction. He is testing all of these relationships knowing full well that he might destroy them. He knows Baghera is so much more moral than him and has such a higher value of life so he intentionally showed her something that would shatter her perception of him. Bad knows that trust is very important to forever so he intentionally lies and gaslights him knowing full well that Forever may never trust him again.

Bad created this plan when he was at his lowest point. On an average day, Bad’s value of his own life is nonexistent. He designed a plan to uncover how the federation spies on them knowing full well that it could turn everyone against him. That sure sounds familiar doesn’t it? Bad’s proposed this exact same plan under different circumstances(“joining” the feds to make them worse so everyone revolts against them inspired by his building inspector bit”). He doesn’t care about himself and is willing to throw himself to the wolves and make everyone hate him if it means defeating the federation and getting their children back. Previously, bad never went through with the plan because he wasn’t as desperate but now… during the depths of his grief after the kids were stolen, there was nothing holding him back from complete self annihilation.

I think Tubbo discovering/catching on to bbh’s kidnapping put a hitch in Bad’s plans because now his tests for others are being influenced by an outside variable he can’t control, that’s why he spent the whole day doing damage control. He’s trying to spin the story in such a way that he’s still somewhat in control of the situation. He knows that the cats out of the bag. Everyone is going to suspect him now so what does he do? He spends the day making himself even more suspicious. He admitted to torturing foolish in the past. He admitted to imprisoning forever during the happy pills arc. He admitted to planning on abducting a player in the future. He’s making himself look so much more guilty.

Everything he does is with intent. What could be the intent here? He’s told several people that he wants to be arrested so he has access to the federation prisons/facilities. He’s told several people that he is capable of kidnapping/torturing someone. He denies he’s guilty of Ron’s disappearance while simultaneously making himself look guilty. Is he trying to push the federation? To see if they actually will arrest him? All fingers point to bbh and the federation knows this - they basically say so in the journals Tubbo found. But they continue doing nothing. The workers are warned to stay away from him at all costs but… why wouldn’t they just arrest him? They’ve done so to others for less. That’s the question I want Tubbo to be asking. He’s smart enough to realize there’s something off here. Yes bad has a guy in his basement but why hasn’t the federation done anything about it?

Maybe that’s Bad’s test for Tubbo. Bad knows Tubbo is fiercely intelligent and that he can’t bullshit has way past him so he gave Tubbo so much. Yes there was a lot of bullshit but Bad intentionally gave Tubbo more ammunition against him. Is that Bad’s test? If Tubbo finds proof that Bad has Ron in his basement and the federation continues not to act, will that clear Tubbo of suspicion in his eyes? Tubbo knows the worker Bad is trying to find, is Bad giving Tubbo a chance to unknowingly prove himself by uncovering Bad’s secret? “Has anyone ever told you your too smart for your own good, Tubbo?” It sounded like a threat but it could have been an invitation.

Fred has become an incredibly important npc and I have a feeling he is the key to unlocking the mysteries of the eggs and the great evil. I’m pretty sure he’s the one in the radio transmission that talks about why the eggs disappeared and Ron said he overheard Fred talking about the evil. Fred knows so much more than he lets on and one way or another, the players are gonna find out.

I’m also fascinated by Bad’s conversation with Bagi about Boo. Only after Bagi confessed to telling Forever about the secret did Bad put in his clipboard that she passed the test. We’ll how did she pass the test? She told someone about his secret. We’ll, she came clean about it. She told someone she thought was Bad’s best friend then admitted it. She wasn’t trying to go behind his back and thus was trustworthy. However, as the day went on and Bagi learned about Ron, this changed. Her perception of Bad changed and Bad updated his notes about her in response. She went from trustworthy to sometimes trustworthy to be careful what you tell her. She still passed the test but the level of trust dropped dramatically - which is so fascinating.

At the end of it, I think… through all of this, Bad is gonna burn all his bridges in order to find the eggs and destroy the federation. He’s accepted that at this point. He was so dismissive of Baghera’s concerns for Ron and Bad and almost felt like he was placating her, just telling her what she wanted to hear. If Baghera interferes with Ron, I don’t think Bad will accept that and he would sacrifice their relationship to continue his plans. If anything, I could see him releasing Ron into Baghera’s hands only to capture Fred in his place - and this time he wouldn’t tell a soul.

Just the sudden switch in attitude when everyone triggered his radar was palpable. “Get out of my house or die” he was so furious that this test had been interrupted but he masked it while with baghera. When Bad went flying into the hall of grim shouting at everyone to get out and attacking them mercilessly, you could feel the rage (part of that was the lore secrets being accidentally revealed but still) the entire visit with Ron was a performance for both Ron and Baghera and I feel so bad for Baghera because she’s in an impossible position.

She wants to be there for Bad she wants to support him but this… this is so far beyond what she is willing to excuse from him. This has crossed so many lines but there isn’t any turning back. She doesn’t want to lose Bad either through breaking his trust or being taken by the federation but at the same time she can’t stand by and do nothing. She needs to help him. Unfortunately, that means it’s highly likely Bad will end up immolating their friendship if she pushes too hard.

And just the way Bad acts around Ron is so fascinating. It’s all a performance. The large furnished home. The fridge full of food. The fish. The weird attachment Bad shows - almost a reverse Stockholm syndrome - while simultaneously talking over/for Ron in such a dehumanizing way. It’s so fascinating in the moments when the mask falls away. When Bad was watching Baghera talk to Ron - idk if it was just me - but I felt like Bad was a hawk observing it’s prey. He plays up the sugary sweetness and dependence but he still feels like a tiger prowling the bars of his cage eyeing the snacks on the other side. It’s the way he moves and what he choosss to look at during these scenes idk bbh’s body language is insane and I could devote an entire essay to analyzing it

Like Bad’s stream title before he started stream, there are only two sides. Either ur with him or against him and the only thing he values is finding the eggs and tearing down the federation. He doesn’t care if everyone grows to hate him. He doesn’t care if he grows to hate himself. There are no lines he won’t cross. It’s all worth it. It’s all inevitable.

[yutafrita]

Dollhouse

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

half-vampire!Sungchan x Vampire Hunter!Reader (she/her; femme presenting)

Genre: Angst, dark fantasy

WC: 6.5k

Synopsis: You, an elite vampire hunter, have been assigned to take down the son of the infamous vampire, the puppeteer.

TW PLEASE READ: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! +18 ONLY. Excessive swearing, obsessive behaviors, stalking, a lot of gore, mentions of bullying, emotional abuse, psychological abuse, murder, suggestive/ sexual themes, dubcon heavily implied, violence/ threatened violence, death of family. Please proceed with caution.

I do not believe that any person written into this fic or any of my fics acts at all like these characters here. Their real life counterparts are just my inspiration and are utilized as actors for the story. No ill will is intended.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ * ੈ✩‧₊˚ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ * ੈ✩‧₊˚｡⋆｡ * ੈ✩‧₊˚ﾟ☾

You were going to get fired.

You felt it in your bones. Your leg wouldn’t stop fidgeting as you sat in Irene’s office, the crest of the organization looming over you making you feel small. 

Irene walked in, her face cold as stone as she threw a file in front of you before she sat on her chair, “this is your new job.”

You blinked, “what?”

“Initially, I was going to give it to Seulgi and put you on probation-.”

“I killed the vampire cleanly and quickly-.”

“And in front of another human,” Irene cut you off before pinching the bridge of her nose, “look. An insider told us that  you would work best for this job, and,” she sighed before opening the manilla folder, “I think they’re right. The puppeteer has been missing for months after we had finally devised a plan to take the motherfucker out.”

You squinted as you looked over the carefully collected information before you asked, “how much time do I have?”

“Not a lot, so hurry up.” -----------

The library was warm and inviting. It was a small public library that matched the small town it was nestled in. Even when agents were sent weeks ago, they all agreed- it was entirely unremarkable, which made him an even stranger anomaly. The town itself was often forgotten on maps and glossed over, but as you entered the library, you were in awe of the coziness. 

It was almost too easy to find out everything about him. Graduated from community college in library sciences. No one had a single mean thing to say about him… ever. Apparently he hadn’t been in a long term relationship in years either. Your angle had written itself to ensnare him without much help from anyone else in the organization.

You sauntered in slowly, your heels muffled by the dusty carpet as you slowly approached the center table where he sat. You had on a loose fitting dress that stopped at your calves, a low cut top that was still mildly conservative, your dark sunglasses, and your freshly done hair wrapped in a silk bandana.

You found it difficult to hold back your laughter as he locked eyes with you. He was processing a few returned books when he dropped his stamp to fully stare at you. You gave yourself permission to smirk once you made it to the desk, leaning against it to allow him to take full stock of you. His big brown eyes were scanning over every part of you, and by the tremble of his jaw you could tell he was fully trying to hold himself back.

"Hi sir, could you help me out?" your voice was low, and you watched as his dropped jaw slowly lifted. He blinked quickly, looking between your chest and lips before he cleared his throat and looked away, his ears now an embarrassing shade of red. The council had perfectly planned every minute detail down to the final strand of hair, and he was reacting even more deliciously than anticipated. 

It was almost too easy how much he was falling like putty in your hands.

"O-Of... of course! How can I help, miss?"

You removed your sunglasses and placed your hand on his chest where his name tag sat.

"Well... Sungchan," you smiled, tracing your fingers over his name before placing them back to your side, "I'm currently working on a project for a research course."

You began spouting off on a topic you knew Sungchan was absolutely fascinated by. The Vampire Hunter Council had done extensive research on the half-human bastard off-spring of the missing high profile leader of the Vampires. The puppeteer’s son’s eyes were still rounded, hanging onto every word coming out from between your glossy lips as you spoke.

After you finished, there was a pause, and then, "you're perfect."

"I'm sorry?" you pretended to not hear his mutter as you batted your eyelashes at him. He was half-vampire, but as far as you could tell either his vampiric side was fully dormant or barely did much- there were no reports of missing humans in the area, didn’t seem to have his father’s gifts, he was not nocturnal, and didn't bare any fangs.

You almost felt bad about having to kill him.

Even if Sungchan didn't know his monster of a father, it was still an absolute shame to vampires to have your offspring be murdered, and you planned to bring Sungchan's head to the feet of the Puppeteer. At least, that’s the plan. You’ll have to lob Sungchan’s head off after using him as bait to bring the puppeteer out from hiding. 

Sungchan had led you to the back of the library, his large hands holding several books and tapes for you.

“You seem to know a lot… are you busy later? I would love to pick your brain,” You were nearly purring, your hands squeezing his forearm. Cold. Not as cold as other vampires you’ve suckered into thinking you’re weak before killing them, but still colder than an average human. Was this the only way his vampiric side showed?

“No! I mean… I’m not I…” Sungchan was sputtering out now, his free hand pushing up his glasses.  “I- I would love to help you.”

“Hm… are those prescriptions?” You asked, your fingers moving to tap the bridge of his glasses and watch his breathing hitch. Vampires typically had enhanced vision, and while he was only half-human, none of his medical records showed that he had any possible visual impairments.

“N-no they’re for the uh… blue light…” his muttered, clearly flustered. After he led you back to the front desk he began typing away at the computer before nervously looking back up. "Do you have your library card?"

Before you left the vampire hunters council headquarters, you were given every bit of fake identification you would need and this indeed included a library card.

"I... I've never seen you around here before," he was clearly racking his head to remember you as he continued the check out process. He had read off your fake name, and you watched him mutter it to himself to commit it to memory.

"I got it somewhere else in the county," you fibbed, "so. I'll see you at the diner at 9?"

"Y-yes, absolutely."

_______________

You arrived at 9:12pm.

Sungchan sat in the corner in a small red booth with a bouquet of flowers, twiddling his thumbs upon your entrance. There were only three other patrons at the small diner, all at the counter with their backs to you as they stared up at the old television set playing a hockey game.

According to your research, Sungchan had gone on a few dates with a few people he went to the local high school with- so between his bashfulness, innocence, and likely exhaustion with his small dating pool, his eagerness to see you made sense. It was also something you and the rest of the vampire hunters council were banking on. You needed him to be obsessed with you- to post you online, for everyone in town to see you with the librarian, and allow this information to trickle up to his father. You were a top level hunter and were well hated enough by Vampires that this would not be overlooked- especially not by the Puppeteer.

"You look so handsome," you complimented, sitting across from the nervous young man. You were late on purpose- aiming to put him more on edge. You were in a tight mini dress and a pair of combat boots. A combination in your daily life you wouldn’t normally pick, but from his internet history seemed to be outfit pieces he really loved on women.

“Th-Thank you,” he then shoved the bouquet towards you, “these are for you.”

“Roses,” you hummed, staring down at the perfectly red petals, “you’re so sweet, thank you.”

“Um s-so roses are a great way to convey joy, friendship… passion,” he scratched the back of his neck bashfully. “They’re beautiful and uh… reminded me of you.”

“Roses are my favorite… are you a mind reader Sungchan?” you playfully reached across the table and tapped his shoulder. Lying was easier when you got to mix in the truth. Roses were your favorite, but they were also a part of the crest of the Vampiric Hunters for their scent is supposed to keep vampires at bay.

It seemed to also be another way that Sungchan’s vampiric side didn’t bare its teeth.

Sungchan was sickly sweet. As the weeks passed, each time you would go on a date he would bring either flowers, a book regarding your paper, or a poem he had written for you.

You were inside the motel you were crashing at, recounting this to the president of the hunters.

“Has anyone heard from the puppeteer?” you asked. A part of you was starting to genuinely feel guilty- Sungchan was so human. He ate human food, lounged in the sun, and even seemed to have a heartbeat.

You had considered that his vampiric powers had simply never awoken, and that they never would. This was highly uncommon in vampire hybrids, but genetics were fickle, so Sungchan wouldn’t be an exception if he really just seemed fully human despite having a vampire dad.

“No, but it seems like he’s still giving orders through his lackeys. There was even a small scourge of his puppets tearing up a small town,” Irene recounted, “Remember to keep him sweet on you.”

“Did I not read to you this latest poem? The last stanza was talking about how he wants to fuck me and keep me with him forever.”

“Wow, that’s a little creepy… and maybe sweet?”

“His face was all red when I teased him about it.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t fucked him yet.”

“I have to kill him, Irene.”

“That has never stopped you before,” she noted. Irene was right of course. Vampires tended to be overly sexual creatures, so seducing them often led to placing them in more vulnerable positions that could allow you to take advantage of them. 

“Fair,” you muttered, glancing out the window to see the same person who walks their dog at this time every night passing the street across the motel. This town was sleepy and boring, but it was almost odd how scheduled everyone was. No car accidents ever, the same groupings of people throughout town all in the same places. Static.

After you hung up with Irene, you moved across the room to the stack of books you checked out from the library all those weeks ago. They were due soon, and you were planning to swing by the library to drop them off with Sungchan while also sweet talking him with stupid facts you had picked up.

You flitted through the last book you hadn’t opened yet and paused. Crammed in between a few pages was a tightly folded note. Curious, you unraveled it. In extremely messy handwriting and covering the entire sheet was one sentence.

Write forever until I die. Write forever until I die. Write forever until I die.

You squinted and scoffed. Likely it was a kid in detention that was assigned to write out whatever was on the board and instead did this as a weird joke. Without much thought you tossed it into the trash.

Still. You had a shiver run down your spine. Wrapping yourself up in a coat, and grabbing the ice bucket you stepped out of your room. Maybe a walk around the motel would make you feel better about having to kill the kid who didn’t ask to be born. 

The ice machine sat in the lobby and was usually only manned by the same two people who would hardly look up from their books. You filled it up and looked back over to see the young man again reading Slaughter-house five.

“Yknow, Vonnegut has written other books,” you joked. The young man flinched, his grip tightening on the book to a point that his knuckles were white. Yet, he didn’t speak or react in any other way. You frowned, and returned to your room.

“Do you like the stars?” Sungchan had asked the following night as you helped him close up at the library. 

“Hm, they are pretty, yes,” you hummed, sitting on the edge of the desk. Just like the other nights you had helped Sungchan, the same patrons who seemed to be there every night, left at the same time in the same fashion, all with the same smile and wave to the librarian as they exited.

“I… Do you wanna go into my truck and look at them?” he asked, and you noted he was avoiding your gaze as the red tint on his ears shone.

“I’m a lady, Sungchan,” you pouted, watching as he seemed to jump, “I hope you’re not… expecting anything.”

He was so easy to fluster. It wasn’t even just to keep him obsessed with you at this point- it was because you found it downright exciting. He was so cute as he jumped up from his seat.

“I would never expect anything from you that you don’t want.”

Sungchan was soft and sweet. Your job as a hunter didn’t allow for much dating outside of your profession, and most other hunters were too preoccupied to give romance much attention. Every minute you spent with Sungchan gave you the delusion that you could leave the life of being a hunter and runaway together. You could protect him, and be happy. But then, you were reminded of the oath you gave, your few friendships, and the fact that you have been lying to Sungchan, and you’re brought back down to earth.

You laid on the trunk bed with Sungchan. He drove out a few miles to empty farmland and covered the trunk bed in pillows and blankets. The stars shone bright in the sky, and you looked up to see Sungchan staring up with a smile on his face. He was beautiful with stars reflecting themselves in his eyes.

“My Mom used to take me out here all the time,” he started, his voice a whisper. “I would get bullied a lot in school, so on the weekends when all of the other kids would hang out, my mom would bring me out here and tell me stories.”

“I’m sorry kids were so cruel to you,” you were sincere, squeezing his arm as you laid on his chest, “do… you have any favorite stories? I’d love to hear them.”

“It’s okay- I got to be the bigger person in the end,” you swear you could hear a smirk, but you were too comfortable to check, “but stories… well. She would always tell me this one story whenever I was really down.”

He cleared his throat, kissed the top of your head, and started working from his memory, “there was once a sickly, meek child. He had a hard time gathering his breath, and struggled to keep up with other kids his age. Running was especially a challenge, and his legs would often give out as his peers would run off, laughing at him. He was clumsy, and his limbs were so stiff and wooden. He began to be known as the puppet because of this. Between the torture of the other children, and the torture of his own body, the boy fell deathly ill. The local doctor told the boy’s mother that her son only had a few hours left at best- but, if she gave her own life, her son could live forever.”

Sungchan paused, and you could hear him swallow thickly before continuing, “the mother begged for there to be another way. It was just her and her boy- while her son could live forever, how was he going to grow fully into a capable young man without a guiding hand? The doctor assured the mother though, that the son wouldn’t be alone. He will create a new family of his own one day.”

“And so, the boy was not only given the gift of eternal life, but also another, even more special gift,” he hummed a bit then, “can you take a guess?”

There was a chill that raced down your spine. You sat your chin on his chest, meeting his eyes. You absolutely could take a guess- a real guess, but you decided to continue playing dumb, “hmmm, flying? So he could fly far away from the bullies?”

Sungchan chuckled before he kissed the tip of your nose, “no, but that’s a great guess. The boy was able to control the minds of those bullies, so they could never be cruel to anyone ever again.”

“The puppet became the puppeteer,” you froze, unable to stop yourself. His mother presented this story, and Sungchan had it fully memorized without realizing that the puppeteer was his own father.

“Yeah,” Sungchan was quiet before he met your gaze. “I know you won’t be here forever, but I wish you could stay. I want to know everything about you. Did your parents tell you stories at night?”

“My parents died when I was very young,” you confessed, “they were killed in a home invasion.”

This was partially the truth. Your parents were killed in a home invasion of a pair of twin vampires who slaughtered them mercilessly. You were in the room next door when it happened, hiding under the bed until it was over. The hunters arrived hours later, and you were then adopted into their ranks.

“I’m… I’m so sorry. That’s not fair,” he squeezed you closely and you shrugged.

“Can’t change the past,” you shrugged, forcing a smile.

Despite your own hesitations, you gave in to Sungchan’s begging, and stayed the night at his place. You couldn’t sleep though, and after you were sure he was knocked out, you stepped outside to the back of the apartment complex to call your closest friend.

“Seulgi… he’s a human,” you whisper cried. The back of Sungchan’s apartment complex held a small forest, and seemed to absorb any bit of light the complex offered.

“And you’re sure he’s not manipulating you?”

“You know I can always spot that shit. Remember the orphanage?”

“Vampires turning young children into vampires so they could more easily kidnap humans… you spotted it faster than Irene did,” Seulgi conceited. There was a rustle in the trees and you froze. Your small wooden stake was always hidden somewhere on your person, this time in the lining of your jacket.

“It’s your job, though. Think of the lives you’ll save by bringing the puppeteer out of the shadows.”

“I’ve gotta go,” you hung up, shoving your phone back into your pocket and sliding out the stake. The forest was quiet, and for a moment you thought you imagined it.

Then, a hand holding a clean white napkin appeared before the rest of their body followed.

“I’m not here to attack, just have a chat,” Yuta had a mischievous grin as he skipped out from the forest and towards you. Yuta was a five hundred year old vampire who had climbed the Royal ranks due to his ability to game information. He was never a liar, but just someone who knew how to use knowledge to his advantage.

“You miss me?” You taunted, arms crossed.

“Of course,” he simpered, now fully in your view as the lighting coated him. He was inhumanely handsome, which was to be expected. “However, that’s not why I’m here.”

“And why are you here? Yknow, most people drive past this tiny little town and yet…” you let your voice trail off, an eyebrow raised as you studied his features. 

“I’m one of the few people that know about Sungchan, the puppeteer has kept his half-human son under wraps for a while. How did the hunters find him?” 

“Ah, so you want information from me?” You chuckled at his nerve.

“Hm, I think we can exchange actually,” he raised his eyebrow, and your eyes widened instinctually. Now this was very appealing. “You see, I pop in every few months to see how the young man is doing. Check him out from a far. Then, I write out a report, and give it to his dear old daddy.”

“Why would you tell me where he is?” 

“Hm, perhaps I have my own ulterior motives for leading a top hunter directly to him,” Yuta then took out an envelope from his shirt pocket. “Tell me our leak, and I’ll tell you what you want.”

“It wasn’t a leak,” you rolled your eyes, “Sungchan did one of those family ancestry online dna things. We utilized it see if there was any human-vampire matches… he just popped up one day.”

“God, is there no such thing as data privacy anymore?” Yuta sucked his fangs before extending the envelope towards you. “I hope you are prepared to face the true wrath of the puppeteer.”

You slid back upstairs after a short while, the envelope tucked into your jacket.

——-

Yuta was a fucking liar. The address made no sense- it was clearly just Sungchan’s apartment. You wanted to rip your hair out- how could you be so stupid?

While Sungchan was at work you looked through every crevice of his place, and the only off putting thing you could find was his high school yearbook. God, the kids were so cruel to him. Sungchan couldn’t hurt a damn fly now as a fully grown man, let alone defend himself against the relentless bullies he faced.

You were hitting a dead end. No other vampires had made their way to the town since Yuta a month ago, Sungchan had completely become infatuated with you, and you were becoming too close to the half-breed. 

One night, after he returned from work, you bought a bottle of wine. You had hoped potentially getting him a little drunk could coax any memory of his father out. He had spoken at length about how great his mother was, but shrugged off any prodding you made about his dad. It didn’t help that Irene was breathing down your neck, and Seulgi was struggling to keep her at bay.

“It’s not too strong, is it? I’m not good with alcohol,” He giggled as he helped you uncork the bottle.

“It’s not strong,” you lied as he took out two untouched wine glasses from the cabinet.

“Oh, can you grab me my phone? I left it in the bathroom,” he smiled. Without a second thought, you maneuvered to the bathroom to take it off the counter. While you still on occasion stayed at the motel, Sungchan was incredibly needy. And since your job was to keep him interested in you, you felt inclined to bend to his will, especially when he didn’t care about anything else you did. You still hadn’t even slept with him yet, much to Seulgi’s and your own surprise.

No messages on Sungchan’s phone, or calls, as per usual. You knew he didn’t have a ton of friends or anything, but it was still… weird. No one else in town spoke to you unless it was more than a word and you initiated it. Everything here had felt fake, but without any real reason to be suspicious, you couldn’t really share your concerns. A town full of people, and yet it still felt empty to you.

Seulgi was busy keeping Irene from slashing your throat, so your own phone has been dull as of late. Maybe Sungchan just sincerely didn’t use his phone, ever, unless it was to speak to you.

“Here, Sungie,” you placed it on the counter, and took the drink he handed off to you. You took a large sip and frowned slightly to yourself.

“Everything okay?” He tilted his head, his beautiful brown eyes filled with concern.

“No I guess I just left the wine under the sun for too long,” you reason, taking another sip. It was a little funky, as if the wine had soured.

“Ah, maybe. All wine tastes the same to me,” he took a sip of his own, and you noticed the small dimple that formed and disappeared.

“What are you ssssmiling about?” You asked. Your words came out more slurred than you’d like. You were a strong drinker, but you also haven’t been drinking as much lately. Maybe that’s why the wine was hitting you faster than usual?

Sungchan leaned a little closer, his hand holding your chin up, “how long were you planning to lie to me?”

Your eyelids were heavy, and you leaned your head fully on his hand as you slowly processed what he said, “I… haven’t -.”

“You thought that I wouldn’t notice a pair of hunters in my town following me around?” He squeezed your chin and you yelped in surprise. You were fighting your body now, trying to stay awake despite whatever he put in your drink. “I’ve been waiting for you… for so long. I’ve planned it all and yet… you still won’t be honest with me. That’s okay though. I’ll forgive you.”

————-

You don’t remember meeting Sungchan, but he remembered you.

Years ago, Sungchan had done a solo trip to the big city, and wanted to test his world. Everyone did what he said at all times- how far could he push this gift?

“That’ll be $4.26 for your coffee, sir.”

“This coffee is free for me,” Sungchan hummed. He didn’t ever have to do extra work to make this gift pop in- whatever his wish was, as long as it was physically possible, was his command. 

“Yes, your coffee is free,” the man nodded as Sungchan walked off. 

This is how Sungchan lived life. He had gotten the entire shit town he lived in to follow his every whim. The world was his giant dollhouse. 

Until you shattered it.

Sungchan was able to control the folks working the front desk at the nicest hotel he could find. He was set up in the best possible suite, and sat one night at their rooftop lounge that overlooked the concrete city.

“It’s a great view,” a voice above the chatter of other guests caught his attention. You wore a simple dark t shirt and dark pants, and spared him a smile as you leaned against the railing with him.

“Yeah,” was all Sungchan offered. It was difficult to force himself to engage in conversations anymore, but you were pretty enough that he didn’t feel like shooing you away.

“What brings you here?” You asked, your gaze still set on the city below.

“Hm, I’m on a journey of self-discovery. You?”

“I’m here for work,” you replied. Sungchan looked at you again. Your voice was nice, you were attractive, and he didn’t have other plans.

“Come to my room with me,” he spoke, moving off the railing. Instead of your eyes losing their sparkle and glazing over, though, you stayed just as you were.

Instead, you burst out laughing.

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, unmoving. He froze. Maybe he didn’t say it loud enough.

“Come-.”

“You wish. Maybe buy me a drink next time,” you gently shoved his arm, and then disappeared out of the lounge.

Sungchan was frozen, his eyes not moving from where you once stood next to him. After what felt like hours, he rushed downstairs to the concierge and got your information.

You were made for Sungchan, you had to be. Why else would the universe deliver him the exciting puzzle that was you? A vampire hunter since childhood was now the only being Sungchan, a half-vampire, couldn’t control. It was fate. To him, you were star crossed lovers, destined for one another despite the complications.

Sungchan had discovered his parentage early in life. He was able to easily get his mother to tell him the truth about his father since she, like everyone else, was susceptible to their gifts. 

So, his next steps to get you trapped, were set.

Sungchan had been using the town he lived in as a dollhouse for years beforehand. He loved testing the limits of his abilities, and had hoped that it would one day awaken his proper vampiric powers. In the meantime, though, he would use the citizens to cultivate a proper image for the hunters to happen upon.

Having every town member edit their social medias. Perfectly crafting and tailoring his existence to seem like a shy, bullied child. Make sure every person in town, if ever approached, all know exactly what to say. All that was left was to get a few vampires that knew their way around the hunters so Sungchan could fully execute his plan.

———-

You were awake, but kept your eyes shut.

It was a technique learned early in your hunter training, but one you didn’t ever use. You didn’t lose the upper hand often enough to be foolishly knocked out.

And, yet, you failed.

“Your breathing is uneven and your heart rate spiked,” his voice sent a chill down your spine.

You cracked open your eyes. You were laid on a plush mattress, and Sungchan sat at the corner of the bed, his eyes unmoving from you. 

You wanted to die. Sungchan’s big, beautiful brown eyes that you had become prey for, were gone and replaced with your worst fear. Ruby red eyes, and they were fixed on you.

“You awakened me,” he cooed, crawling towards where you laid. Your eyes searched the space frantically for anything to defend yourself with. Your wrists were bound by rope, and you had been stripped down and changed into a completely different outfit without any of your hidden weapons. The bed you sat on was on top of a metal bed frame, and the wooden nightstands didn’t offer a quick change into a stake. You sat there, like a piece of fresh meat as he now hovered over you. “I want to show you something.”

Sungchan tossed you over his shoulder like you were nothing, taunting you with his newly found vampiric strength. You were reeling.

“You were out cold for three days. I didn’t think what I added to the wine would do that much,” he chuckled as he carried you past beautiful marble flooring and down a few sets of staircases. You were trying to create a mental map, but he was going too fast for you to get much down. “I’m so happy you’re finally here so I can show you your gift.”

Like you were a child, Sungchan placed you on your feet and turned you around. You gagged, staring at the horrific site in front of you. It had to have been months judging by the level of decay, and this matched up with your previous information.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Sungchan snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you tightly to him, “the old, fake puppeteer is dead. Now, the hunters don’t need you to pull him out of the shadows.”

“Y-You’re the puppeteer now,” you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut. Yuta wasn’t being a dick- he was helping you.

“I had to throw the hunters off our scent-.”

“There is no- Sungchan what the fuck?” you broke from his grasp, terrified and searching the basement area for anything you could use to kill the monster in front of you. “You… you were a human-.”

“And bringing you to your new home awakened me fully!” he was so joyful as he said this, the dread consuming you.

“I was only with you so I could bring,” you glanced at the horrible sight of his slain father, “him down. I was going to kill you.”

“You don’t get it,” he whispered. He looked away, and for a moment you swore his dead eyes were going to shed tears before he met your gaze with a dead glare. “I have planned everything so I could have you. I stole my father’s empire, I had the head of the hunters controlled into giving you this fake assignment…”

As he paused, you decided to make a run towards the basement stairs. You were desperate, and that desperation had made you stupid. Sungchan caught you within an instant, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other squeezing your wrist with an iron grip.

“I didn’t want it to come down to this,” he pouted, “that friend of yours… I have it set that if you escape from me, she’ll burn down the hunters headquarters with herself inside.”

“Seulgi?” you whispered, eyes wide with terror.

“Don’t you get it, though? We are meant to be!” he was smiling as if he did not threaten your livelihood. “Ever since that day in the hotel when you told me no! You’re the only person in the world who did- and you’re a hunter! You are the Juliet to my Romeo!”

“They both die at the end you fucking idiot,” you replied through gritted teeth. 

He let go of your wrist, and instead gripped under your chin with his cold hand, “we’re going to have to work on how you speak to me my love.”

Then, you remembered him. The encounter was so brief and so small to you, and yet, it seemed to be absolutely defining for Sungchan to a point that you became his whole focus. Now, your knees trembled as your fate settled. 

You set your gaze down, submitting as he let go of your chin.

“See? This is good. I have your favorite foods, and everything you could ever need here,” he squeezed you to his chest, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry. “I know you hate cooking, so I have a team of chefs here just for you.”

“Not of their own will,” you bit, and you felt his grip on you tighten before he forced out a hearty laugh.

“These people are all dolls. Now that I’ve taken over my father’s empire…” his voice trailed off. “Nothing in this world matters except for us.”

_______

You snuck onto the rooftop one night. Sungchan had fallen asleep next to you, and you had managed to slip out. Despite the chill in the air, it was not nearly as cold as when you would be forced to be by his side. Before his vampiric powers awakened, he was still slightly colder, but now it was like being next to dry ice.

You needed to breathe.

You missed Seulgi. You hated seeing the glazed over eyes of the people Sungchan took from god knows where. You hated having to be around the monster of a man. 

You hated yourself, especially, for feeling so weak and succumbing to him.

You stared down at the plethora of bites lining your arms, and lifted a hand to touch the ones on your neck that were still fresh. You couldn’t even bring yourself to poke at the ones that lined your upper thighs. You choked back a sob, the wind of the night air rustling through your hair as you stared at the fresh blood Sungchan had managed to leave behind after feeding from you. 

You had let a monster inside of you, and the worst part was that you liked it. Sungchan was very clear about the fact that he had been studying you- everything about you. How you took your tea, how you liked to sleep curled up in a ball, and how to properly pleasure you. He had been studying you for years- knowing exactly how you seduced other vampires and how you would get yourself off. It was already an unfair advantage. This, coupled with the fact that being bitten by a vampire has the same effect on your brain as an orgasm, you were pretty much subdued physically as often as possible by him. And it felt fucking incredible- addictive, even. You hated yourself for being so weak. Weak to a point that you’d be begging for him to fuck you, just like he dreamed you would. Just like he hoped, you’d become his little doll. The shame was becoming unbearable.

You stared out at the surrounding area. In the darkness, all you could tell was that there was no city at all nearby, the light pollution nonexistent as you were able to see all the stars clearly. You were previously able to piece together that this residence used to be Sungchan’s father’s, but he had decided this was best for you. Maybe he was right, in a way. You felt like you were meant to die the night your parents did, so being here with Sungchan was a way to repair that broken strand of fate.

You heard footsteps and turned towards the door. It was one of the housekeepers Sungchan had around the property.

“Hello,” you stared blankly. This woman, like every other servant in the manor was instructed to not speak to you under any circumstances. She smiled awkwardly and within the blink of an eye, was in front of you. 

Instinctually, you went to the pocket of your jacket for your stake. Of course, though, there was nothing. You were unarmed, and physically at your weakest.

She knocked you down to your back, and began dragging you by your hair towards the edge of the roof. The height was only a few stories so it wouldn’t be enough to kill you, but certainly hurt you enough to make killing you quicker for her.

You were clawing at her hands, tears streaming down your cheeks as you fought for your life. You hadn’t made it this far with Sungchan only to be killed by someone else.

She shoved your head over the edge as a wicked grin formed on her face. You sent a swift kick to the back of her knees, causing her to let go of your hair. You stood up and ran towards the door only to then see Sungchan standing there, eyes bright red in anger. 

The woman let out a yelp of fear before you heard a sickening crunch. Sungchan had, without a drop of hesitation, lobbed the head off the vampire and was holding her by her scalp.

“I’ll have another servant pick this up.” he tossed her head off the side of the manor as if it was a crumpled piece of paper. He wrapped you in an embrace, the blood of the woman that landed on his chest now coating you.

“I don’t have anything to protect myself with,” you replied. You were desperate. Maybe, you thought, you could use his obsession with you to get him to give you a stake under the guise of self-preservation. Shit, even some vervain would be useful.

“You’re right…” he whispered, letting go of your embrace and holding you at an arm's length. He brushed the hair stuck to your face away, as you were still sniffling. His hand lowered to the bite marks on your throat. “I’ll make it so that you’re as strong as me.”

As strong as me.

“Sungchan no-!” you were struggling as Sungchan held you with one hand gripping the back of your neck. In the dim moonlight, you watched as his fangs pierced his wrist and exposed his blood.

“No, please!” You had hit a new low, begging for your life.

“I need you safe… and I need you by my side forever,” his voice was melodic as he shoved his wrist into your mouth. You were struggling as he jammed it in as deeply as possible, but you refused to swallow. In your struggle, you two had collapsed onto the ground. He had you fully pinned down, and seemed to relish the fear and disgust in your eyes as is his other hand moved to pinch your nose.

“You know you want to,” he purred, his lips now next to your ear. You were running out of air and the tears and snot were running down your face as you vigorously tried to shake your head no. “I know you love the power you feel when I bite you. When you get to boss the servants around. You’re mine. And now…”

You gulped, your eyes wide in horror as realization set in. His blood flowed down your throat, an ambrosial taste of iron now flooding your tongue and throat.

“Now… you’ll be your whole self with me. Forever.”

——————————————-

More riize? Click here.

Tag! @nini0620

[fatefulfaerie]

Tears

“Link!” Penn exclaimed, wings outstretched in excitement. “What a great sense for news you have! Here I am chasing a new lead on the Princess and my partner appears before my eyes!”

Link hadn’t seen Penn since they finished chasing all the leads they had on the Princess’ whereabouts. It was at least a month since they went from stable to stable, Link almost believing the Yiga’s tricks and getting barely a wink of sleep until all twelve were dead ends. He was left just as lost as when he started until he found Impa and sunk himself into the mysterious geoglyphs that dotted the land. Link hadn’t yet found the courage to admit to anyone the truth about Zelda, so he pretended the best he could to be the eager, young reporter Penn knew him as.

“I’ve heard that Zelda has a homestead here in Hateno,” he continued. “Villagers tell me it’s across this bridge, but I’m afraid I’m at a standstill. You see, investigating her home for clues seems to go against my morals as a journalist. This may have to be a story we leave be.”

It was public knowledge that Princess Zelda lived in Hateno. That was no news story.

“What’s the lead?” Link asked. “Was she seen here recently? S-since her disappearance I mean.”

“It may be hearsay but rumors have been circulating that the Princess is married,” Penn said. “The villagers here have no idea what I’m talking about, so I’m thinking it’s no more than gossip. Traysi wanted me to check it out nonetheless. I’m thinking we at least find the may–”

Link averted his tear-filled gaze.

“Link, are you all right?”

“I…I’m fine,” he stammered. “Just…allergies.”

“Where,” he began weakly, but forced his voice to be stronger. “Where does the lead come from?”

“An old Zora at the Domain,” Penn answered. “He’s losing his memory but tends to spout some random things about his long life in an effort to keep a grasp on it. His niece heard him talking about marrying the Princess to someone, but he didn’t specify who. She was so excited about the prospect that she sent word to Traysi.”

Link looked notably nervous as he hugged his arms close.

“Don’t…don’t run the story,” he said in a hushed voice, no longer meeting Penn’s gaze at all. 

Penn looked confused.

“Link…what do you mean? Do you know something?”

“It just…it paints her in a bad light.”

“Link, I know you care about the princess’ public reputation. Your work at the paper honors that gleamingly. Your search for the absolute truth is inspiring to the whole team. You service our kingdom and our princess well.”

Link steadied his nerves with a deep breath and a slow blink of his eyes.

“It was me,” he admitted, quietly at first.

Penn blinked, shocked. He assumed he heard wrong.

“What?”

“It was me!” Link finally burst out pointing at himself. “All of it, everything. The mysterious hero who came out of nowhere and saved Hyrule from the calamity, me. I brought Zelda here and we built a life, and it was a good life. I married her because I loved her. We didn’t tell anyone because goddesses the Yiga were trailing her everywhere and everyone was looking at her to rebuild but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore because she’s gone, okay? She’s gone! That’s it, that’s your story. She’s a magic, floating dragon in the skies because I failed her again. She sacrificed herself for this kingdom and no one will ever know because there’s no proof! Nothing! No one else sees the dragons but me, so that’s what I have for you, absolutely nothing! I have nothing!”

Link panted and Penn stared. He blinked his eyes once, twice. Link expected him to call him crazy. Instead, he pointed his white-feathered wing at the house across the bridge.

“That’s your house?”

Link’s disbelief was shown in his face.

“Yes.”

Penn looked at the house for a moment, letting the breeze sift through his feathers.

“Link I think in a time like this Hyrule would quite like to hear a story like this about their Princess,” Penn said. “I don’t think your story paints her in a bad light in the slightest. In fact, it may be the heartwarming tale people need right now.”

Link’s gaze angled down and pondered the suggestion.

“And no, they won’t believe that she’s turned into a dragon,” Penn continued. “But they will believe as I do how much you loved her, and how she must have loved you.”

Link nodded.

“If you don’t mind I’d like to interview you,” Penn admitted. “In the house you built together. You’ll get final approval of the story I send to Traysi.”

Link looked up and over at the house. It felt like he hadn't been there in ages, like it was a lifetime ago that he went in scouring for clues, hoping she'd just be around the next corner. Waiting for her was like waiting for a sunrise that would never come.

“No, I don’t mind.”

[twogyuu]

can i get a number 17 with wonwoo and a side of angst please

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

17: "Enemies. Strictly enemies."

genre: fluff, angst(?), childhood rivals to lovers

warnings: profanity

wc: ~1k

a/n: this was inspired by a couple of IG reels i saw of brides running away for SVT and this IG reel about academic rivals.

. . . .

The predicament you are in is truly bizarre - one for the films and people told family stories about.

Yet, you can't help but feel a sense of relief to it all.

To hell with pleasing families, tight and lung constricting gowns, fake smiles until your cheeks ached, and the worst of it all: pretending to be happy and forcing yourself to believe that it'd work with him when you knew deep down, the relationship was doomed when you said 'yes.'

So what if you were sitting on the curb in a tattered wedding dress, the hem uneven from all the tripping as you ran across town and the veil split into two after it got caught in the branches of an elm tree, with Wonwoo?

The night is young. The last few rays of sunshine grips onto the dimming skies, headlights of passing cars in the evening traffic flicker on and make your vision spotty and bright. Girls in their twenties don tight tube tops and short skirts sway their hips down the pavement with their arms linked as they trekked down to the club. You could almost feel the grit and grease from the fast food trucks of the night market lined up across the street.

You let out a long sigh and rest your head on Wonwoo's shoulder. He peers down at you; you half expect him to look away in nonchalance, but he doesn't. You can barely make out his expression in the growing darkness: something between regret and disquietude. He seems to have words to tell and ask you on the tip of his tongue, his Adam's apple bobs as he contemplates, but a few seconds pass and his lips remain sealed.

"Why did you do it?" you finally ask. You suck in a harsh breath. "Object?"

He looks back to the street and you wait eagerly for him to say something.

But he doesn't - Wonwoo only pulls his lips in between his teeth. His gaze falls to his hands, thumbs twiddling against one another.

"Wonwoo," you try again.

Still nothing.

You sit up, your hands still interlocked around his bicep. You squeeze his arm in another attempt to get him to look at you. You were growing desperate - feeling less sure about your decision to leave your wedding with him in a flurry . . . choosing him.

"W-what are we?" you ask. Your voice falters this time, the tone much softer and less certain than prior.

And when he continues to stay silent, you begin to lose hope. Contrition grows; questions of if Kyungsoo would take you back start swirling your mind. Your hands begin to slip off his body as you lean away from him. You start gathering the tule material of your white dress in your fists instead, tears welling up in your eyes.

This was Wonwoo: your sworn enemy since the age of six - what made you think he'd really want you for you?

"Enemies," Wonwoo finally speaks, "Strictly enemies."

You pause, chewing the inside of your cheek, waiting him to explain further.

Wonwoo pushes his black-framed glasses up the bridge of his nose and clears his throat before he looks up at you finally. The right corner of his lip twitches up into a chagrin smile.

"I promised remember? When we were six and you threw my Pokeball into the pond," he explains, "I'd ruin all things good for you."

Ah . . .

Well fuck.

The first tear drips from your eyes and roll down your cheek. You stand up and step away from him, but Wonwoo follows. He tucks his hands into his khakis and he takes a moment to collect himself before speaking further.

Your fears were right and you didn't even have it in you to be mad at him right now. All those late nights over fried chicken and Diet Coke, falling asleep at his place and finding a quilt thrown over your shoulder, impromptu visits at the office - all that just to get you to open up your heart so he could rip it apart.

What a dumbass you were.

But then, Wonwoo surprises you.

He pulls out a red bread twist tie, the ends intertwined so it's shaped in circle. Wonwoo reaches for your left hand silently. He runs his thumb over your ring finger, staring momentarily before he slips on the twist tie.

It's dumb truly, but it makes your heart swell. It's not the same one, but you remember it well. You were eighteen, just right before you both left for college, sitting on the rooftop of the apartment building your families lived in. By then, your rivalry had morphed into something of frenemies and teases. Like now, he offered you a red bread twist tie as a peace offering to your prolonged rivalry - and more:

"Say, if we don't meet anyone by the time we're thirty-two, marry me?"

You didn't take it seriously then. Marriage wasn't on your mind, let alone with your sworn enemy.

And it was Wonwoo - asking for this was so . . . out-of-character for him. Must've been a joke, you had thought.

"Why thirty-two?" you had asked.

He shrugged. "Seems like a nice number."

Your eyes immediately flicker from your finger back to him.

"That includes letting you marrying other people who aren't me," Wonwoo confesses. The tips of his ears are bright red. "I-I can't believe I'm saying this, but . . . I think, um, I'm a little insane for you. Maybe even in love with you?"

You scoff tearfully, folding forward, but this time, not out of sadness. You slip your hand out of his and reach for the collar of his light blue button-up, noting how the navy blue tie was lopsided. He must've really been in a rush today if he showed up this disheveled and only prepared with a bread twist tie ring.

"You think?" you ask as you pull him close. His footing stutters and his hands latch onto your waist. The toe of his shoes are gripping onto the pavement, keeping himself from tipping over. Wonwoo pulls you closer until your chests where flush against one another. You were expecting it, but it still took you by surprise when he gives you a fleeting peck that has you chasing after him.

"I know," he mutters against your lips. "You're stuck with me."

And, you don't think you'd mind.

[taylor-swift-imagines]

Beach day

Pairing: Taylor Swift x (female) reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @natsf4iry

***

Both you and Taylor decided that a day on the beach together would do you both some good, the beach being the holy option of where to go to settle and unwind.

After getting everything set up on the sand, you and Taylor into the water, you cling onto her because going into the water past your ankles was out of your comfort zone. The reason for being a little timid of the water is because you never got swimming lessons as a kid or any time in your life, but you felt better when Taylor was with you and had someone to hold onto. Before you had even met Taylor, you were left unknown to the world, the world not knowing your name or who you are besides your own family and friends.

The reason for this subject coming up in mind, was for as long as you could remember, you have always wanted to have a singing career and write your own songs, and Taylor Swift was a huge inspiration for that. Not only did you feel so dedicated to her music, but you felt just as dedicated to Taylor Swift herself. Anytime she any news of her coming by your hometown to give the people a show, you managed to work it out so you could attend, and so far, you’ve been to at least fourteen of her shows. How you got to know Taylor on a more personal level was quite a story to tell, it all starts on Twitter after sending her a message. The message had some lyrics that you had come up with and you asked for her opinion on them. It was almost unbelievable of the next thing that happened, Taylor invited you to star as a special guest during her concert in your hometown and requested that you sing the same song you shared with her over messaging through Twitter.

Of course, you accepted her invitation just like any other lucky fan would. The friendship started from there and it grew stronger when Taylor asked you out for a coffee at Starbucks after the concert. That evening at Starbucks couldn’t have ended any better then it did, not only were you walking in and out with Taylor, but she had given you her phone number before taking your leave. Not long after getting her number, the friendship would soon turn into something much more.

Something more serious.

You both had fallen hard for one another as you enjoyed your date and it wasn’t until after you moved in did fans get suspicious Taylor was with someone new. They were right of course, but you and Taylor didn’t feel quite ready to come out to the world about your relationship. Just not yet, but that would soon change and almost lead to disaster. After your little swim, you join Taylor back on shore as you dried yourselves off with towels. Once Taylor had finished up, you both noticed there was an ice cream stand not far from your spot.

Taylor offers to go get the both of you something and you agreed. You can never go wrong with having an ice cream at the beach, especially on days like today. As you waited for Taylor, you were lost in thought after laying flat on your back on the towel underneath. You couldn’t help yourself but wonder how Taylor can be so hesitant about PDA, you thought she would loosen up on that after moving in together, but nothing was done. You didn’t want to push her into it, but you have been wanting to hold her hand in public at the very least. These thoughts continue when two shadow figures caught your attention, two girls who looked to be in their early twenties stood before you. Slightly pushing down your sunglasses at the bridge of your nose, you look up as you spoke.

“Can I help you, girls?”

Before they spoke, you took a glance and noticed that there appeared to be something in their hands and that was a little eerie as they had their hands clenched around the unknown item.

You feel that something didn’t feel quite right, your gut instinct telling you to run out of there. But against your better judgement, you remained still while waiting for an answer. The two girls remain quiet before one outstretched her clenched hand for yours. Without hesitation, you give them a hand in return and watched as it seemed to be a gift. It was, handmade bracelets, and they were the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. The girls then go onto explaining the meaning of this, that one goes to Taylor and one for yourself, that they were friendship bracelets. Hearing that, you couldn’t help but smile as you thought how sweet it was of them.

“Thank you, guys! These are beautiful and I love it! I’ll make sure Taylor gets hers.” you promise, the two girls take off.

Right about that time, Taylor returns with two ice cream bars and hands over your ice cream sandwich.

Just before you could present the friendship bracelets, you were suddenly ambushed by the paparazzi. They have been in hiding this whole time, surveilling PDA activity between you and Taylor. The unwanted appearance drives you and Taylor to leave, head for home. Everything was picked up in a matter of seconds, Taylor taking a hold of your hand in hers just as you had always wanted. As you were going back to the car, a picture of Taylor’s hand in yours was snapped among with the others photo they have taken. As if things couldn’t get more chaotic, pictures of the two of you were plastered on the internet everywhere and that includes the newspapers.

That event was rough on the both of you, it took you guys at least three days to recover the encounter before you stepped inside your shared home.

It can get ridiculous, but Taylor was all who mattered to you as you were to her.

***

Open for requests!!!

@taylor-swift-imagines

[watchoutforthefanfics]

The Curse of the Companion || unrequited! Eleventh Doctor x reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Gilded Lily by Cults + anon request "the reader deals with the consequences of being the doctor's companion and unrequited love."

TWS: angst, unrequited love, anguish, and heartbreak.

[[A/N: sorry for taking so long I am mad depressed so get lit. Hope you enjoy, anon :) ]]

The legends speak so wondrously of the Doctor. It didn't matter where you were, you always saw them -paintings hung up in galactic galleries, stories told to alien children, and even among your city! You'd heard from a coworker (really from another chain of people you assumed) the idea of a man sent only to save Earth every time they needed it. And maybe there was a detail wrong like the box was green or he didn't speak a word -lord knows that wasn't true.

He often said that in every legend there's usually a companion, an equal part of the story.

"You'll be remembered just as I am."

You'd heard of the blonde with big brown eyes, Rose, the one who carried on -Martha, the fiery redhead Donna, or the Ponds -something in your chest stung.

Legends of the Doctor being cursed weren't new, the last Gallifreyan, so many enemies, losing so many people- He was the epitome of a tragic story.

But you wondered, often, just why the companion's curse wasn't so spoken of.

To know the Doctor was a blessing, to explore the world, the galaxy, mind you- was a blessing. It was freeing, exciting, and wonderful.

Learning about so much more than anyone even had the opportunity to was a blessing.

But... loving the Doctor was a curse.

You weren't the first, and you knew somewhere deep in your chest that you wouldn't be the last. Even if you stayed with him until your bones grew brittle and your hair turned grey, the Doctor would keep moving.

And yet still, you loved him.

The world would keep turning, the danger would keep coming, and he would stay the same -saving Earth, no matter what. You knew that he'd loved some of them, truly loved them and part of you wondered if you could be one.

But you weren't. You knew it.

When he spoke of Rose, of River- He'd get this look in his eyes, a faraway look of both love and grief, loss.

He didn't look at you like that.

And one day, you realized it.

You couldn't sleep, the Tardis was whirring, and somewhere distant you could hear the tinkering of his tools. He'd sent you to bed because you were acting odd. All he could think of was sleep.

"Go, sleep. Humans need that, yeah?"

He cared, but not in the way you did.

"I'll be here ready when you wake!" he'd exclaimed so excited, you knew this would hurt. It would hurt either way.

You'd die on this ship for him, you knew you would. You'd never have a family, or see your Mom again, but you'd die here. Happily. Because you loved him-

"Oi, what are you doing up?" he remarked offhandedly, and you took a moment to look at him, "-I told you to sleep."

His big green eyes, his floppy hair, his stupid bowtie.

"Couldn't," you answered, short but honest.

The Doctor turned to you, tilting his head curiously -bright and twinkly. You wished you could erase it from your brain for a moment because such a look begged you to stay.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, Doctor-" you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Whatever I did," he hummed, standing, "-I do lots of things couldn't tell you what- I'm sorry."

"Doctor-"

"Do you want me to grovel? I'm not above groveling."

"I want to go home."

He startled for a moment, green eyes fading before brightening, "Is that why you're so grumpy? You could've just-"

And then he looked at you. You looked different, like a stone statue -bags under your eyes and redness blossoming there. He almost asked why you'd been crying, before something in him righted.

"Oh."

"I want to go home," you repeated, but it was empty -hollow like the hole in your chest.

He looked at you for a spare moment, something in you watched his hearts break in his chest, "I have... I have so much to show you. You can't just-"

"Doctor, please," you urged, and now suddenly you were crying, "-I need to go home."

He looked at you even more, like he was trying to read you so desperately trying to understand. You were sure he couldn't. He wouldn't know, you were too good at hiding it -you'd gotten that way one too many River visits.

She was so sweet to him and powerful as a woman, time lady, the perfect match. You couldn't blame her for loving him, you did yourself.

"Why?" He asked, openly, something in you sunk.

"Do I have to tell you?"

"No, you don't have to," he echoed, and slowly flipped a switch like it took all of his energy, "-I'd never force you to do anything, you know that."

"Then-" you started.

"But," he interrupted, soundly, "-I believe I deserve something. Anything. I can't... I can't accept it if you... if you don't tell me why."

You pursed you lips, inhaling a shaky breath, "Doctor, I can't tell you. I'm sorry."

"Did someone... threaten you? Are you in danger?"

"No," you bubbled up, something in your chest throttling, "-no, Doctor, I'm... I'm perfectly safe, I just-"

"Want to leave," he uttered, a little desolate, a little heartbroken. Something in the green, green of his eyes that screamed 'so soon?', and yet you couldn't stop it. Something in you continuing, pushing further, let me out, let me out, let me out-

"You really don't want to tell me, do you?"

"Doctor," you whispered, biting back the instinct, "-I can't."

And then, he looked at you.

Green eyes and floppy hair, stupid bowtie, and tweed jacket, he looked at you in a way that you saw sometimes -far away and distant like he knew everything in the world. Did he know?

His head tilted, his eyebrows pulled together, and he looked at you. Like he... like he recognized what you were doing.

"Oh," he spoke, "...it's... it's the thing, isn't it?"

"The thing?" You questioned.

"I'm an old man, Y/N," he smiled, a bittersweet kind of one, "-I'm not stupid."

"So you- you know," you remarked, slowly -your heart on the brink of beating out of your chest.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I've seen it before. I know that look- You... you-"

Martha, something in your mind dinged, "We don't have to."

"You love me," he finished, his green eyes scattered everywhere but at you, "-don't you?"

"Doctor-"

"No, no shame in it now," he hummed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "-I understand. I know."

"Fine," you sighed, sinking to the metal floor, cold pressing into your skin, through tears, "-I do. I love you."

"Y/N," he faltered.

"Don't," you stopped him, "-just don't. I know you don't-"

"How do you-"

"I know," you silenced him, shaky breaths inhaling into your chest, "-Doctor, I know you. More than you know. And I know who you love... it's not me."

He turned to look at you, green eyes scattered across your face, "I could."

"Doctor, please," you echoed out wiping at your eyes, legs pushed into the metal, "-don't pity me."

"Y/N, if you give me time-" he seemed desperate, roaming closer to you -only desperate to keep you.

"Doctor, stop."

He froze.

"This isn't... This isn't something that can change. I could die here and you wouldn't love me," you spoke something in you breaking, "-not really."

"I love you in the way that matters," he spoke with a firm voice -speaking as though it was a fact. Like he could convince you.

"Like a dear friend," you concluded.

"No, no," he started, so close to you (you took a step back), "-like a companion. Like my companion."

"And it's different?"

"Very different," he replaced that step towards you, platonically brushing his hands down your arms -you knew the drill, "-it's... it's hard to explain. I just, sometimes believe the universe is wrong."

"Wrong for what?" You echoed, a little softer.

"Wrong that I chose my companions," he hummed, "-I think in some twisted way you chose me, Y/N. And... and everyone before you did the same. Every companion I've ever had has altered me to who I am today."

"And you're saying I-"

"You are a part of me, my dear, dear Y/N," he spoke, and suddenly you saw tears built at the corners of his eyes, "-I will truly never forget you. No matter what you believe, every companion carves out a space in my hearts."

"So, I can go," you echoed out and suddenly it didn't feel right, "-you will move on but you won't... you won't forget me. No matter how hard I believe it."

"No matter how hard you believe it," he finished and suddenly he was smiling, a big wide smile that made your eyes hurt -just a little.

Something in you healed just a smidge.

"This is a good ending," he clarified, "-no death, no break in the universe if I come to see you, nothing."

"And you promise to?"

"Promise what?" He questioned the tilt of his head not unlike a puppy.

"Come visit me," you clarified, slow and unsure, "-I know, I know I'm leaving... but you're still-"

"The Doctor," he spoke, soft, "-and you're still-"

"Your companion," you let out a big gust of air, and something in you felt light and airy again.

It was the curse of the companion, sure, but nothing would amount to the knowing the Doctor. Being able to love him-

You were certain it was something much different than a curse.

[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

Far From My Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It’s summer now, and Javier can look forward to a glorious four months with her alone. He gets to have her all for himself for what feels like an infinite amount of months, the long hazy days of the hottest weeks of the year stretching out in front of him like salt water taffy. 

Warnings: childhood best friends to ??, fluff and a tad bit of angst, lots of longing, idiots in love, young!javi deserves more love, a tad bit of body insecurity from both ends

A/N: I took inspiration from the absolute masterpiece that is Fleabag and voila I have an idea for a series. The dialogue I used from Phoebe Waller-Bridge is bolded down below.

I don't own photos, or characters. Divider is from the talented @firefly-graphics.

Her hands are tucked between the side of her face and her pillow and Javier knows that it’s going to smell like her tomorrow morning and he also knows that he’s going to be desperate enough to press his face into it. She looks like those statues of sleeping child angels. The soft glow from his nightstand light only adds to the effect. 

It’s late at night or early morning. She’s half-asleep but fighting it.

His sheets are tucked around her chest, and she’s wearing one of his shirts because she claims that they’re softer than hers. There’s a soft smile hanging around her mouth like early morning dew on a tree’s leaves. It’s a look on her that tugs at something inside him that’s never been tugged at before, but his mind is too muddled to make much sense of it. 

They’ve spent the better part of six hours like this. 

Old habits die hard. 

She was only supposed to stay for dinner, but then he’d taken her to his room claiming that there was a book of hers still in his shelves, which there had been, but then they’d never managed to make it out after. 

They’ve found themselves in much the same position as this for over fifteen years. Her hands tucked between her face and pillow, his underneath the covers and both of them on their sides facing each other. 

She always lies down closest to the wall. This evening had been no different. He hadn’t even asked her to stay the night but she had this way of drawing him into doing the things she wanted for her, and all of a sudden Javier had found himself handing over his t-shirt, crawling into bed and shifting awkwardly as she tried to do the same. 

Some of his best memories as a child come from moments like these. 

The time when she’d confessed her first crush on a boy in their class, the other when he’d done the same for his first crush because it felt easier to tell it to her and not his friends at school. 

The many times she’d snuck in a box of cookies and they’d eaten all of them until their stomachs were fit to burst, and they were giggling with all the sugar gone to their head. 

Those couple of weeks where Javier had found a series of scary story collections in the library and read them to her out loud, and then held her as close as he could to himself so that she could fall asleep. 

Dozens upon dozens of memories stacked on top of each other like printed photos, all bathed in soft yellow light and drowning in that gentle silence the night would take on when everyone in the house had fallen asleep. 

Looking at her now, at the warm glow of her eyes and the way her hair spreads on her pillow, he finds himself craving chocolate chips and walnuts. Finds that he wants to hold her hand and doesn’t know how to ask for it without it seeming weird. 

He’s been desperate for the press of her skin against his, the soft feel of her breaths fanning over his arm and the way her ribs would rise and fall in time. His body has been starved of her in the past few months where she’d been away from him and at college. 

It’s summer now though, and Javier can look forward to a glorious four months with her alone, listening to the melodic tilt of her voice as she tells him about college and Austin and what happened when she was away from him as if trying to justify her absence. There’ll be popsicles that will end up more on the ground than in their stomachs, and his hand will be sticky with sugar. 

He gets to have her all for himself for what feels like an infinite amount of months, the long hazy days of the hottest weeks of the year stretching out in front of him like salt water taffy. 

It’s been two years, two summers and he’s still fooling himself. He’ll blink and they’ll be at the end of August and he’ll be laying on her bed watching her pack her things up again, and biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything stupid, envy gnawing at his heart. 

Even as a kid he’d known she’d been destined for bigger things than Laredo. Had seen it in her voice and in the images she painted for him in his bed when he asked her to tell him a story. She could do that really well, and didn’t need to rely on books the way Javier had to to have the same effect. 

But even if she is destined for better, bigger, greater, she’s also his friend and Javier loves her in a way he’s not sure he’s able to describe. Which means that he doesn’t like having to see her off twice a year, scared that she’ll never come back and leaving him here all alone, the ghost of her shadow hanging around every corner. 

When he goes to pick her up, at Christmas and in April, there’s a clamp twisted around his ribs and it doesn’t go away until he hears the tears at the edge of her voice and feels the way her hands press into his shoulders. Then he can breathe easy because she’s back and the inevitable has been pushed off for another time. 

Javier’s drawn back to the present by the flutter of her eyelids, keenly aware that they’re slower coming back up than they were going down. He should let her sleep but he’s suddenly terrified of what’s to come in August and the hour has painted it so that he’s scared that maybe he’s dreaming.

So, he shuffles forward, and the sound opens her eyes. She starts to smile at him again.

If it is a dream, he hopes it lasts a while. 

“If you could change anything…in the whole world,” His voice is still gravelly from the way she’d made him laugh this evening until he felt that he couldn’t breathe anymore. “What would it be?” 

Her face is always so open for him, so easy to read. He thinks that if he gets close enough to her eyes, he can see the thoughts arise behind them. There’s a dent between her eyebrows that shows when she’s thinking and Javier presses it away with his thumb. He hides his hands away before he can think too much of it. 

“My thighs.” 

He laughs, “In the whole world?” It’s clear that it’s late and her mind isn’t working the way it should. He was expecting an answer more worldly from her. Eliminate corruption. Free education and healthcare for all. 

Still, he likes her answer much more. Likes that she gave it to him plainly and that she didn’t hide behind words and ideas that were too big for the town, and by association, himself. The people of Laredo say she has her head too far up in the clouds, that her imagination hadn’t been reeled in at the right time and that she’s a lost cause now. 

College. They say it as if it’s shameful, when it’s all Javier wants. 

Sometimes, he’d catch her eye and feel like he’s the only one who ever really knew her. 

He knows that she thinks too much and that she feels too much. She does too much of everything for everyone else that she forgets herself sometimes and Javier has to bring her back with a gentle hand for fear of scaring her away irrevocably. 

“But don’t tell anyone I said that,” the fleshy little anxious part of her is wide awake now, her mind having mulled it over for too long. She lets out a small nervous laugh that she only half-commits to, abandoning it before it’s completely out.

Javier shakes his head, inches forward that much more. With every breath he takes in, he can smell her, and it’s strong enough that he can’t pretend that he’s making it up. 

“You?” 

He follows the same line of reasoning as her answer, “I’ve always been insecure about my face.” He thinks about the time she’d been the only one able to find him during hide-and-seek, and how, instead of ratting him out, she’d squeezed herself next to him and held his hand so hard that his fingers hurt. He thinks in turn about how she didn’t leave until the moment he’d felt ready. “You know that.” 

Her smile widens, she’s grinning at him now. He can’t take it anymore and reaches for her hand. She gives it to him without a qualm or question and lets him thread their fingers together. “You shouldn’t.” 

Looking away from her for a few seconds he wills the red to not rise to his face, “Well, thanks but-” 

“I mean it,” she squeezes his hand, her voice warm. “Seriously, there’s nothing wrong with your nose.” 

That makes him pause, pushes down the insecurity that was rapidly growing inside him like mould. He looks at her and frowns. 

“I mean, there’s nothing wro-” 

“Say that again.” 

“I mean there’s nothin-” 

“What?” 

Javier’s just fucking with her now. 

“I don’t know…” he narrows his eyes at her in the way that always makes her spill something she’d been hiding from him. The soft corners of her voice turn panicked, “I always say the wrong thing!” He wants to contradict her, but she’s already hiding away from him, face pressed into his chest. 

The air gets kicked out of his lungs because of how close she is to him and how she’s staying so close to him. She’d arrived over a week ago but had just come for dinner tonight, at Chucho’s insistence only.

Despite the years they’ve spent together, Javier becomes shy when she first comes back, awkward and fumbling as he tries to pull himself upright long enough so that she doesn’t suspect anything’s changed in their relationship. 

Because really, nothing has. 

It just takes a while for him to get used to her and the idea that she’s once again a four minute drive away from him. 

“You’re an asshole,” she mumbles and he can feel it in his chest. He’s glad she can’t see him now because he’s trying to rapidly blink away his tears. 

He’s missed her. 

“M’know.” 

“I’ve missed you,” pulling away, she looks up at him. The words are offered up like an apology. Javier doesn’t accept it because she can never do wrong to him. For a split second he fears that she’ll go back to her side of his bed and without thinking about it, his free arm curls around her. 

“M’know.” 

The corners of her eyes crinkle, “Smart-ass.” 

He rolls his eyes and his hand seeks out the comforting dips and grooves of her spine. 

In a couple of days, he’ll regain his footing and be brave enough to reach underneath her shirt and feel her skin. Right now, it’ll be too intense for him, he has to build up to it. “You meant it? ‘Bout my nose?” 

“Yeah,” her gaze falls to it. “There’s nothing wrong with it…Really, I mean it, and not just ‘cause you’re my friend either.” Javier’s just a little scared that she’d managed to read his mind even after they’ve spent months apart. 

Javier thinks that the person who first said ‘far from the eye, far from the heart’ had never really loved anyone. 

“I don’t-” 

“You should…the tip, it’s very…kissable.” 

He’s suddenly acutely aware of how close she is to him, and swallows in time with the bob of her throat. She lets go of his hand and he lets her and tries to ignore the caving in of his stomach. 

Her head falls beside his on his pillow. She’s just far away enough so that his eyes can focus on her. He tries not to think of her and how she’s thought that his nose is kissable and fails miserably. 

“Javi?” 

“Hm?” 

“Will you take me to the movies sometime?” 

His forehead wrinkles, “Of course.” There’s a movie theatre just over an hour by car from Laredo that they’ve been going to since he’d learned to drive. Summer was synonymous with cold ice cream and her smile beaming at him in his bed, spending the days fleeing the hot sun and the evenings in the violently AC’d air of the movie theatre. “‘Course I will.” Fear seizes up in his throat, “Why are you askin’?” 

She just shrugs, eyes falling to his shirt and staying there. 

He presses, anxiety drumming in his blood, “When d’ya wanna go?” 

“Oh, I dunno,” she shuffles closer to him on the pillow and Javier has to hold his head just a little further back so he can see her clearly. “Just…sometime.” 

The static of the silent night falls around them. 

“You know,” at the sound of his voice her eyes meet his and he doesn’t know how to describe the feelings that wash over him. He wishes that she would never look away. “Your thighs are great, you shouldn’t change them.” 

Candles light up around her face and she smiles, biting her lip like she always does when she gets shy, “Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Great?” 

He nods and then teases so she won’t hear how serious he is about this, “And I’m not just saying it as your friend either.” 

Maybe if they were both well-rested, they could have heard what he’d written in between his lines. They’re not and his insinuation flies over both of their heads. 

A giggle bubbles up in her throat and the room grows brighter, even with the sunrise still a few hours away. “You think about my thighs a lot, Javi?” 

He sends it right back, “You think about my nose a lot?” 

Her lips pout down and she starts to frown at him playfully, “No fair.” 

“You think about kissing my nose just as much?” 

The amusement falls from her face, and he becomes scared that he’s forgotten how to read her in just four months. They always knew when to push and when to stop, when to be pulled and when to pull. A delicate tug-of-war balance that could only be achieved over years of spending any possible moment they could together. 

There’s nothing that scares Javier more than forgetting how to pick up on her cues. He thinks that if it ever did happen, he’d stop living. 

Life only had meaning when he knew that she picked at her cuticles when she was anxious, that she leaned onto her right shoulder when she was bored and her left shoulder when she was uncomfortable, and that chamomile tea helps her calm down and that she prefers witty one-liners to elaborate jokes that take years to set up and usually end up being a let-down anyways. 

He murmurs her name, hoping that he hasn’t ruined his summer with her with just one question, “I-” 

Her lips press lightly to the blunt tip of his nose. It’s as soft as the breath of a baby, fleeting as the flap of a butterfly’s wings, and shorter than a heartbeat. For Javier it feels like being born anew. The ever-present noise in his head goes silent. All he can hear now is the rhythmic rise and fall of her breaths. His meaning is only given to him by her face in front of him. 

Awkwardly, like the rusty joints of a car, Javier leans towards her, so close to her that the edges of her face are blurry. 

In the same manner as her, he presses an idea of a kiss onto her mouth and pulls back just as quickly, if not faster. 

His nose and his mouth are tingling. 

She’s looking at him in a way he’s never seen before. The rush of emotions that it triggers inside him leads to him kissing her again, long enough that they can both understand what he did the first time, long enough for him to feel how soft her lips are. 

She lets out a little sound and Javier comes to himself again. His ears pop and his world grows from just her back to his room around him and the gravity of his actions fall down on him like a boulder. 

In a jerky movement he pulls away, his heart hammering against his chest, eyes widening. 

Images start to flash across his mind. 

He sees her frowning and yelling at him, changing back into her clothes and going back to her house. His stomach drops as he thinks of her leaving his bed eternally, and of the way her smell will fade from his sheets in a couple week’s time. He thinks of what he’s going to do with the rest of his summer and what’s going to happen at the end of it when he won’t be the one driving her to the bus stop and then watching her bus drive away until he can’t see it on the horizon. 

He should look away now, so as to make the leaving part easier, but instead he’s selfishly drinking up the last few moments he has with her, before he starts mourning their friendship. 

Instead of moving away like he’d been expecting, she inches forward, presses her palms to the sides of his face and runs her thumbs under the tender skin of his eyes. “Come back to me, Javi.” 

He doesn’t know how. 

“Baby,” her eyes are searching his face and he’s back to her. He’s back in her arms and in his bed. His heart is still pounding but he only knows himself in relation to her so it doesn’t matter. 

This time, when he kisses her, she’s already there halfway. Her hands are in his hair and though they’ve been there a thousand times before, it feels new to him. His body sings for her skin against his but he can’t bring himself to do it. His hands remain on her waist, on top of his shirt. 

“Did you miss me?” she’s out of breath with her forehead pressed against his. Her breaths are fanning out across his face like the waves of the ocean.

It takes a moment for his mind to straighten itself out, for him to realise what she’s asking of him. 

Slowly, he sits up, with her in his arms and his lips against hers. He gives butterflies after hummingbirds of kisses to her and she accepts each one as if they were the first. His stomach twists into itself and untwists. He feels as if his heart has just started to beat after twenty long years. 

She’s leaning against his arms and looking up at him breathlessly, her chest labouring to catch her breath. 

Javier wants to reply but he also wants to kiss her again and he does. Meandering and lazy as he pushes his tongue into her mouth. She makes no move to rush him, thumbs running across his cheeks, one hand reaching under the collar of his shirt and resting at the place his neck meets his shoulder. 

He pulls away and closes his eyes for a brief moment and then opens them again out of fear that she’ll disappear. 

“Yeah, I missed you,” he’s breathing harshly as he says her name. The words tumble out before he has a chance to think about them, “All I did was miss you.” 

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it please consider leaving feedback, it means the world to me. Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for the next part.

Masterlist here.

[likeadevils]

what songs from TTPD and TA are now yours? Which ones have spoken to you the most?

songs that are genuinely MINE

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus: i cried myself to sleep listening to this song on repeat on release night and for the life of me i cant tell you why. i think it’s a great example of her being older really deepening her writing— just that old scarred over longing of a possible life, a possible love, too far away to reach but close enough to brush past. also, the double edged sword of “if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say’ i loved you the way that you were’”— you loved me before i’d twisted myself into the shape i am now in order to keep my current partner, but also, you loved me the way i was, not the way i am now

i look in peoples windows: i wrote a poem with the line “im afflicted by the not knowing” in it!! inspired by the outside!! and by spending so much of my childhood reading by moonlight and spying on my neighbors through their windows!!! it was called where midnight lives!!! what the fuck!!!

robin: another song i sobbed hysterically to. i was a strange little violent child obsessed with dinosaurs it feels like a lullaby someone made specifically about 3 year old me.

songs that i’m obsessed with:

but daddy i love him: the bridge is just so fun to scream along to. everytime ive been in a car since the album came out ive played this at least two times just cause

fresh out the slammer: it’s just. the first verse??? the way the song stutters apart for the last verse??? this song takes the blurry muse conceit of the album and uses it to its fullest. also just the diminishing returns from “but its gonna be alright, i did my time”

i can do it with a broken heart: my first listen favorite

the smallest man who ever lived: the bridge????? the bridge???? the bridge???? a few of the negative reviews specifically mentioned this song as boring and for a millisecond i was so angry i could’ve exploded

the black dog: this is like, the platonic ideal of a taylor swift song to me. just that old quiet tragedy she can build out of little moments of hoping your ex will remember you when they hear your favorite song or not having known your last kiss was your last kiss or your ex still sharing their location with you. like, it’s just her at her best, but with the maturity to sing “and you jump up, but she’s too young to know this song”

i hate it here: people have talked about seeing reputation in the anthology but i think you can also see so much debut and it makes me feel so tender. also i genuinely don’t understand why people don’t like “if chose the 1830s but without all the racists” like?? it’s supposed to be a bit clunky?? the songs about the limits of escapism?? the line enhances both of those themes?? also “i’m there most of the year” is such a funny devastating relatable lyric to say about a daydream

thank you aimee: it’s not every day a song inspires you to send this message about something a child did to you (fuck you madeline!!! fuck you jessie!!!)

the bolter: avoidant attachment representation!!! i love that it takes the stuff she hated about herself in the archer and just accepts and loves them and appreciates what they’ve given her. i especially love it because bolt can mean like, crossbow bolts, so it’s a flip on the archer. also “bolt” is one of my favorite words i love all the different meanings

“the only thing that’s left is the manuscript, one less souvenir from my trip to your shores, now and then i re-read the manuscript, but the story isnt mine anymore” also just had me sobbing. there’s just. wtf!!!!!!

[tomorrowxtogether]

TOMORROW X TOGETHER: DEJA VU

TOMORROW X TOGETHER return with their sixth mini-album ‘minisode 3: TOMORROW’, bridging past and future with a narrative deepening their unique musical journey. Both a throwback and a leap forward, It’s an exciting blend of nostalgia and innovation. Read our latest Dork Mixtapecover feature now.

To be a fan these days is a long-term investment, and for those who’ve chosen to follow TOMORROW X TOGETHER, the payoff will be immense. Five years after the South Korean five-piece debuted, they’re returning with their sixth mini-album, the almost-eponymous ‘minisode 3: TOMORROW’ and picking up the Easter eggs they’ve dropped in that time.

It’s the place they’re coming back to on ‘minisode 3: TOMORROW’, their sixth mini-album but tenth release overall (if you’re not following, their releases are split into chapters: ‘Dream’, ‘Chaos’ and ‘Name’, with the ‘minisode’s serving as interludes that build on the group’s lore). Teaser images ahead of the drop show the boys wearing crowns once again, while the accompanying videos feature Morse code beeps originally included in that debut single.

“For those of our fans who have been joining us on the journey from the very beginning, I think they are going to find it very fun and exciting since it’s going to be a throwback to the past,” says TAEHYUN, who’s by far the chattiest member of the group alongside youngest HUENINGKAI.

“The Morse code translates to ‘tomorrow’,” says the latter, “and it’s supposed to symbolise the future that we are going to build together and also give that hopeful vibe that there’s going to be an even brighter future, so we thought that it ties in really well with the overarching concept of this album.”

The lineup is completed by leader SOOBIN, plus eldest YEONJUN and middle child BEOMGYU, all five meeting us from a stark white room somewhere in Seoul at an eye-watering 7:30am, although no hint of tiredness is given away.

“I think this mini-album fully encompasses the albums that we put out previously, and at the same time, I feel like it’s a completely unique TXT-style album,” says TAEHYUN. “Since this album is all about being reminded of the promises that we made in the past, we tried to bring back those memories, and it’s overall like a throwback to our past.”

A rich visual world enhances the elaborate storytelling in the TXT’s discography. Echoing the plots of 80s coming-of-age flicks like Stand By Me and supernatural stories like The Lost Boys, TXT’s music videos follow the boys as they grow up and become increasingly aware of and affected by the adult world.

“For those of our fans who have been joining us on the journey from the very beginning, I think they are going to find it very fun and exciting since it’s going to be a throwback to the past”

When watched chronologically, it spits out something akin to the series inspired by those 80s films too, Stranger Things; starting out bright and innocent in debut ‘CROWN’, before uncovering a darker underbelly in ‘9 and Three Quarters (Run Away)’. What follows is a flip-flop between the two sides, merging over time until they’re indistinguishable from one another, the devil’s temptation piercing the otherwise literal ‘Sugar Rush Ride’ in its chorus and their own Upside Down revealing itself in the real world on last year’s (also very 80s) ‘Chasing That Feeling’.

With a group concept centred around growing up, it’s never been far from what the TXT boys were experiencing in their day-to-day lives, despite all the extra frills. This album’s lead single, ‘Deja Vu, ‘ may expand on their fictional world, but the other tracks are a little more real.

“I definitely feel like I’m growing in my personal life as well,” says TAEHYUN. “In particular, I took part in penning some of the lyrics for one of our tracks, ‘Quarter Life’, in this album, and I felt like as much as we were telling our personal stories, we were also representing, you know, the concerns that people in our generation might have. So, in that regard, I think I’m becoming more mature.”

TXT hit the ground running in March 2019, arriving as one of the first fourth-generation groups to debut as K-pop’s global grip really took hold. Within months, they were on an international tour of the US, and by the time the year was out, they’d picked up numerous Rookie of the Year awards at ceremonies across Asia.

Five years on, and they’ve gone from strength to strength. Far from rookies, 2023 saw TXT headline Lolapalooza in Chicago and finish up their second world tour with two nights at Seoul’s Gocheok Sky Dome (which apparently clocks in at around 25,000 ticket holders a night). Their third full-length album, ‘The Name Chapter: FREEFALL’, saw them collaborate with boy band royalty Jonas Brothers and Latin pop trailblazer Anitta, proving their prowess as true global stars. But no amount of achievements could fend off the niggling self-doubt that comes with hitting your twenties.

“As soon as we heard the theme of [‘Quarter Life’] we just went, oh, that’s such a perfect theme,” says HUENINGKAI, “because it not only hits home for us, but I thought that the song narrates something that everybody practically could resonate with. The song itself has a very youthful vibe, and it’s a very upbeat stadium rock track that bursts with energy. TAEHYUN and SOOBIN wrote some of the lyrics, too.”

TAEHYUN continues, “It’s supposed to mean a crisis people usually face when they’re crossing that one-quarter mark in their life, which is kind of the same scenario for us as well, so we were already feeling it before the song came along, and then we thought that it completely tied in with our vibes and that it gave us the opportunity to genuinely and authentically talk about our personal feelings. You get the anxiety and feeling of nervousness that there’s so much left in your life still, so I think I thought most about what I should do with the remainder of my life to become a better person, a better human being.”

“We really want to perform in the UK and meet the MOA there; we love the country.”

Now in their mid-twenties, TXT are often regarded as Gen Z leaders, navigating adolescence in tandem with their fans (also known as MOA, which stands for ‘moment of alwaysness’) regardless of how different their lives have been.

“I would have to say that it was our members and MOA that helped me through these challenges and helped me navigate through what I’m coming across in life,” says HUENINGKAI. “So in moments when something was not working out, I would always rely on them, and it’s through them that I can feel that I’ve become more mature as a person.”

“You know, with each passing year, I have a new concern in mind, something hanging over my head,” adds BEOMGYU, “but no matter how long it will take, I try to tackle things one by one and get things sorted out gradually. I think that kind of helps me grow as a person.”

Vast sonic developments over the years have seen TOMORROW X TOGETHER adopt a rock-driven sound across their releases. From the emo-lite ‘0X1=LOVESONG (I Know I Love You)’ and ‘LO$ER=LOVER’, to the rapid guitar riffs of ‘Good Boy Gone Bad’, to almost nu metal on recent album opener ‘Growing Pain’. That sound is maintained on ‘minisode 3: TOMORROW’, as glitchy trap-beat single ‘Deja Vu’ gets an amped-up rockier remix as a bonus offering.

Elsewhere on the EP, TXT hop on the ‘K-Pop songs that sound British’ trend (a worthwhile Google) with the UK-house-infused opener ‘I’ll See You There Tomorrow’, while ‘The Killa (I Belong To You)’, performed by oldest members YEONJUN and SOOBIN is a sultry Afrobeats style track that shows another side of growing up.

“Previously, we only tried to make some of the sensuous songs mildly sexy with just a hint of sexiness,” TAEHYUN teases. “But this track ‘The Killa’ goes all in; it’s a full-out sexy vibe exuding from the song, so I’m really looking forward to how the two will perform on the stage and pull that song off. It’s gonna be really intense,” he says, theorising what future performances might be like.

As they prepare for their third world tour, titled ‘Act: Promise’, they’re visiting new territories in the US; although they’re still yet to cross the pond for European shows, the boys are hoping that will change.

“You know, we just want to keep putting out songs and performances that everybody can resonate with and relate to that is uniquely TOMORROW X TOGETHER and that represents our unique identity and colour,” YEONJUN says.

“I really want to go,” adds HUENINGKAI. “We really want to perform in the UK and meet the MOA there; we love the country.”

“The UK is home to many of the legendary rock bands, and in the K-pop scene TXT the definition of rock, so it’s meant to be,” TAEHUYN claims.

Although this mini album sees TOMORROW X TOGETHER pulling from their own past, their mindset stays true to their namesake as they push themselves forward once again. ■

[paracosmic-murdock]

Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 12: "Parlant à la lune"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: It has been two years since your secret was exposed and you had to leave London. Two years with deep buried misery and in which you missed everything you used to have. However, neglect, novelties, and letters made sure to give you more than one reason to return to claim someone who is as rightfully yours as your estate and your people: Benedict Bridgerton.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, mutual pining, (kinda???) enemies (fake, this is just pride) to lovers (surely), bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: Perhaps you had manifested it or not, but either way, there was another man in your life to make it unbearable. Luckily, the stubborn fate (a letter) and your untamed mind (your undying love for a certain someone) would not let you stagnant in that misery.

Word count: 2K

❁ Series masterlist

❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

1816 seemed to be a vintage year for the vineyards of the Château du Clos de Vougeot, so much so that it had you between the bushes of grapes painting them while tasting the fine wine produced almost two decades ago. Despite not being able to drink it until you were five and ten, the sweet, burgundy-colored drink has accompanied you throughout your life.

It reminded you of your childhood running through these same vineyards, riding a white horse named after your Mother's favorite gemstone as you tried to win a race against the setting sun, laughing with your father, and shooting arrows at the red dots placed on the trunks of trees. It made you wish he had never left, though you had made peace with his absence so long ago.

Perhaps you would not have to have done all the things you once did.

Your short stay in London did certainly mark you like a bloodstain: the ghost of those ocean eyes haunted your dreams and nightmares, and the words printed on ridiculous papers chased you down Europe for many moons. However, you have come way too far to watch some name-dropping sleaze as Lady Whistledown.

For a moment, you watched your bridges burn to the ground and your castles crumble down. What once were chants celebrating your name turned to screams of hate. You went from looks of adoration to them looking at you like you were a monster.

You had lived in the Americas with your Grandfather for two pair of months as a punishment for your imprudences and had returned to Burgundy with the determination to claim what is yours whatever it took.

You were not as successful, but you managed to have your cousin living constantly at the expense of your hard work ever since. At least he did not intend to marry you anymore, and for that, you could settle.

The book you had written was published earlier this year, and the story of the author writing poems to an unknown lover, sending them to him by talking to the moon was certainly a hit. As a woman, you found that so far from possible, but having your status and wealth did it all to make sure your words could be read anywhere across Europe.

Many more nights than you are willing to admit, you wondered whether Benedict was aware of the existence of the book or not; but most importantly, if he had realized it was about him.

Everything, for two years, was about him.

Portraits of his face adorned the walls of the Palace of Versailles, and his name was a recurring code in your book. There was even an unfortunate error in some of the first copies, as his name and surname had accidentally ended up explicitly mentioned.

No one suspected that the aforementioned was a real person, and you were grateful to the Heavens for that.

"Excusez-moi, Lady Y/N. Quelqu’un vous attend." Antoinette announced, and you nodded.

[Excuse me, Lady Y/N. Someone is expecting you]

You took a handkerchief to clean your paint-splattered hands and made your way to the Palace and out of the field.

Once you were inside, you were told that the person was waiting in the sitting room with your Grandfather. The person was a man, and you almost dropped your handkerchief to the floor.

"My dear," your Grandfather called for you. "There is someone you should meet."

"Whoever this is, I want him gone by dinnertime," you said.

He rolled his eyes at your stubbornness. "He has traveled for days and days."

"It is impossible for a human to care less about another."

You would not normally behave in such a manner, but the resemblance that man shared with your father had your imagination running in circles.

"Do you even know this man?"

A scoff left your lips. "He looks exactly like my father, meaning he must be a bastard child of his. Why is he here? To get what should be his. What will he get? Not a thing. I said I wanted him gone by dinnertime."

You regretted having created your Antoine alter ego. It was almost as if you had manifested a brother, which was devastatingly pathetic.

It was obvious he was standing there ready to take it all away from you.

The story behind it all is that your Grandfather has been looking for ways to watch your reign end for a while now, and the possibility of him having a bastard child was there. He couldn't have lived in celibacy for the nine and ten years he lived without his wife.

He didn't indeed.

There were three children of his living the life of commoners, but the only one who was interested in living the life that could have been his had he been born from your Mother was him.

"Don't listen to her, Raphaël," your grandfather told him, then looked at you. "You mustn't manage all of this for another day. You might not accept him as a brother, but after all, he is your father's son. What you consider to be yours isn't anymore, you must stop acting as if you were Queen Charlotte, owner of every soul that stands in the same region as you, you are not."

Your Grandfather used to adore you, but the events of two years ago led him to treat you like a ragdoll possessed by the cruel spirit of a soul in Purgatory. One you wish to get rid of but return every time you believe it to be gone forever.

You only laughed at his indiscretions toward you and watched him tolerate your devoted gestures.

Suddenly, you were nothing but a woman with the heaviest of heads that bears the crown, and you eventually got tired of trying to win his love back.

"He is nobody," you repeated. "This is my home, and so is every palace under the name of the Dukes of Burgundy. My pennies have made everyone's crowns and if I say I wanted him gone, gone he will be."

"You forget your place quite often, do you not?" your supposed brother commented. "I have never seen a woman that believes herself to be the owner of it all."

Your outraged glance could have killed him if what they said about looks were true.

"You will not come to my own home to talk to me as if you were someone with the right to. You should be the one to remember his place-"

"Women are incredibly arrogant and insane these days, it is ironic coming from one who is utterly alone in this world."

"Watch your mouth, brother," you threatened him. "You will choose your next words carefully unless you want to see what happens when you poke a bear."

"Leave us alone." your grandfather ordered him, and he complied right away.

You sighed.

"When will this princess figure out she isn't worth saving, huh?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I am sick of your misbehaving, Y/N, in all seriousness," he snapped finally. "Your arrogance is making me go insane, your words are inopportune, when will you learn that nobody in this world is standing by you?"

"And I am sick of you coming to my life every time I'm getting it right, sir. I am just so tired of you treating me like an unwanted child," you replied. "You treat me as if I wasn't your own daughter's daughter, and I am certain that she would be disappointed in you if she were here! She would understand me!"

"Don't you raise your voice at me and don't you dare speak of your mother as if you had known her." he ordered, his voice tranquil but angry.

Hurting tears escaped your sore eyes. "I lost the love of my life, you know? I lost him and I must live with that for the rest of my life! I have nobody! My Father is gone, my Mother is gone, you are gone! I am, just like you said, without a soul standing by me, and, just like he said, utterly alone in this world! If he comes I will end up living in the streets after having had it all. Is it what you want? For your granddaughter to be left to her own devices?"

"Ever since you escaped your home to disguise as a man and had that Bridgerton boy dishonor you, you stopped being my granddaughter."

You nodded, feeling more devastated than you had before.

"Alright, I am leaving for Versailles. He can have whatever he wants," you answered, knowing very well that no matter how much he tried, he would never get his name on anything you owned. Your Father's will firmly stated that the one to inherit every ducal thing would be your first son, said will was blessed by the King of France, and there was not a thing absolutely anyone could do against the King's blessing. "You can be sure you will never see me again."

"Do you have anyone to stay with in Versailles?"

"I do not need anyone, I have my Palace."

"I'm afraid you don't."

"What do you-"

Antoinette's sudden arrival stopped you from continuing. "Désolée, mais vous avez une correspondance de Londres."

[I am sorry, but you have correspondance from London]

You frowned, receiving the envelope.

From Eloise Bridgerton

So you opened it right away.

Dearest Y/N,

I, and dare I say my entire family also, wishes you more than well.

I do not know how proper it is for me to write to you after all that happened with my brother, but there is something you must know: he is about to make the biggest mistake of his life, and you are the only one who can stop it.

Benedict met someone: Miss Hayley Prince. I am obliged to speak of her as such a nice lady, with manners like no other. But she is not you.

This is funny enough because ever since you left, every woman he has had around shares some sort of similarity with you. This is what I have picked from overhearing conversations between Anthony, Daphne, Simon, Colin, and Kate, since, of course, I could never know a thing about those affairs of his.

Benedict has stopped himself from sending letters or traveling to France many more times than you can imagine, so you should know that losing you has been the catastrophe of his life. He regrets letting you go and it is under that premise that I beg for you to come to England as soon as possible.

He is seriously considering proposing to her, but I know that if you were to return, he would leave her and marry you instead.

Benedict does not love her at all, and in her, he just found the woman who is the entire opposite of you: she is most certainly not French, she does not care about art, she says emeralds are not suitable for her, she braids her hair funny, she gets disgusted by the mere idea of fencing or horseback riding, she hates horses, she is mean, she is superficial, she is not the third cousin of the King of France (or any king for that matter), and said she is terrified of traveling overseas. Benedict found the only woman in England that does not remind him of you and decided to hold onto her.

The problem is, Benedict is miserable with her. She is insufferable and none of us can bear with the idea of having to see her often. Also, my brother needs someone who can make him smile and inspire him.

That someone is you.

P.S. He talks to the moon every time it is full. I beg you to come fix him.

P.S.2. I have heard about your book! As soon as I see it somewhere I will buy it.

P.S.3. Lady Danbury said she would be enchanted to receive you at her home.

Sincerely and expecting your answer eagerly,

Eloise Bridgerton

taglist: @yentroucnagol @crimsonincursive

[schrijverr]

The Hearts of Gotham 5

Chapter 5 out of 7

Bruce makes the Justice League believe he has two hearts and is a manifestation of Gotham’s night to throw them off his secret identity, not trusting them. When the sound system breaks, he doesn’t come clean, but lies instead that he split into two to make Robin. From there it spirals as all the Robins make the lies grow and twist it in their own ways, until the truth comes out.

This fic is based on this post and inspired by Bouncing Baby Bat, or so the Justice League is led to believe... by EmpressGeek.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 5: How Stephanie Used it to Fuck with Bruce

Steph wasn’t Robin for long enough to ever be introduced to the Justice League, something she takes great offense to. Tim had told her about it and she looked forward to it quite a bit, so she was disappointed when it never happened.

However, Steph has never been beneath causing problems for no reason to get what she wants. So, she is more than happy to temporarily take back her mantle so she can get to meet the Justice League anyway. Especially to prove her honor as a Robin.

Damian is already pretty far along in adjusting to his role as Robin and, while B might have banned him now, she knows that will change at some point. So she has to move before that happens if she wants to fuck with everyone.

B can’t complain though, she thinks, as a Robin she has a right to do this. Besides, it’s not like she’s going to blow their cover, in fact, she might strengthen in. B should be thanking her.

Thus, there is a pep in her step as she runs down the halls of the Watchtower for the first time, Tim in her ear telling her the route and her story planned out in her mind.

She enters a big room with a table, around which all the Justice League members are sitting. They all look up startled when she throws open the door, then turn to look at B, who is definitely sighing and fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Father,” she shrieks shrilly. She has never claimed B as anything close to a father figure, however, for the sake of fucking with him, she is more than happy to. And by the way multiple people whip their heads in his direction, it works. “Something is wrong.”

“What is it?” B asks, he doesn’t sound too concerned, likely already knowing she’s here to mess with him. Though due to his gruffness and distance, it doesn’t appear the others notice.

“I don’t know, but Gotham called me to go to you. I think the darkness is growing,” Steph exclaims dramatically.

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up. Father? Like father-father? What happened to B?” Green Lantern interrupts and over her com Tim tells her that that his name is Hal Jordan.

“Didn’t father tell you, Hal?” she asks innocently, making her eyes go wide.

“How- how do you know my name?” Hal asks, scooting away from her slightly.

“I know a lot of things father knows, silly. I came from him,” Steph laughs. “He’s father, because I physically clawed my way out of his body to shape my own. What did you think splitting into two meant?”

And now she truly knows she’s been hanging out with Tim too much, because she’s referencing conversations she’s never been a part of. However, it is worth it to see both Hal and a few other nearby heroes pale at her words.

“Stop being rude,” Wonder Woman tells them and Steph has to stop herself before she pinches her leg, because holy shit Wonder Woman is standing up for her. Wonder Woman is coming her way. She is talking to Wonder Woman! She loves women superheroes.

Wonder Woman smiles at her and extends her hand for Steph to shake: “It is nice to meet you, Robin. I am Diana.”

“Robin, nice to meet you,” Steph shakes her hand.

“If I may be so bold, you are not like the other Robins I met,” Wonder Woman says and Steph knows that she is going to lord that over the others for the rest of her life. Jason will cry when she tells him.

However, she has a bit she’s committed to (and B will probably leave her to the mercy of Alfred if she fucks this up for him), so she simply curtsies and says: “I came to be under a super moon, when Gotham’s night was bright, not just lively.”

“That is a special thing,” Wonder Woman tells her kindly. “It’s good to have a fellow sword sister in you, Robin.”

“Thank you,” Steph smiles brightly, wanting to bond with Wonder Woman more, but she is here with a purpose. So, she frowns: “Though I fear I might not be for long.” She taps a few time, hoping Tim has caught his cue as she suddenly clutches her stomach and cries out.

“Are you alright?” Wonder Woman asks in concern, catching her as she stumbles and tries to stay in character and not focus on the strong arms.

“Father,” she whimpers, holding a shaking arm out to B.

Tim luckily did catch his cue, because Superman lets out an alarmed sound and says: “Your second hearts are going crazy.”

In the time it took Superman to say that, B has jumped over the table to get to her, likely not wanting to risk her being serious. It is also clear that he’s decided to yes-and it, because he gently tells her: “Robin, I’m here,” as he cradles her in her arms, taking her from Wonder Woman (a fact Steph doesn’t mourn in the slightest, what are you talking about?).

With a weak voice, she says: “I- I think- I think Gotham is-” a cough “-sending me home. We- we’re going to turn into one again, father.”

To others there, it might look like B is worried, but Steph recognizes his annoyed face anywhere. She regularly gets him to make it after all.

She writhes in pain again and pitifully whimpers: “Take me home, father? I- I don’t want anyone to see that. Oh, it hurts. It hurts!”

“Batman, is she okay?” Superman worries, hovering over B’s shoulder.

Steph almost risks sending B a shit eating grin at that, but decides against it. Instead, she coughs again, using some slight of hand to smear liquid latex on her cheek that she rests against B’s chest when she’s done.

B is just assuring Superman that she will be fine, when she lets out a shriek: “It’s already starting! Father, please.”

And indeed, when she pulls her cheek, it is now attached to B, slivers of skin apparently attached to him. Superman startles back and Steph lets out a pained moan.

At that point, B decides that removing her from the situation is the best course of action to prevent her doing more damage. So, he swiftly picks her up bridal style and says: “I must go. A new Robin is coming.”

Without waiting for a reaction, he stalks out of the room and to the Zeta-Beam. Steph continues to let out pained noises all the way, until they’re stepping into the Cave.

Once there, she rips her face from B’s chest and hops out of his arms. Grinning: “That was fun, we should do it again sometimes.”

“Was that really necessary?” B sighs, finally able to let that out and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No, but it was fun,” Tim says, twirling away from the Batcomputer to grin at them, the cameras in the Watchtower still on the screen. “I mean look at this.”

He pushes a few buttons and one of the videos rewinds, showing B sweeping out of the room, followed by a moment of silence. Then Flash says: “Did- Did Batman just take off, because he’s going into labor? Is he entitled to maternal leave?”

“Don’t be stupid, Barry,” Hal says. “She called him father, it would be paternal leave.”

“Same difference,” Flash pouts, before Tim pauses the video again.

Steph snorts out a loud laugh. She couldn’t have imagined this going that well. She just hoped to cause enough chaos and a weird enough situation that B would have to uncomfortably explain himself next time, but this is gold.

“Why would you do this to me?” B asks her in a suffering voice.

She doesn’t care, she just replies: “You’re lucky I went with father for the creepy factor, I definitely contemplated using daddy, old man.”

Despite it all, B takes a few seconds to count his blessings, deciding to give up. “Thanks,” he settles on, before leaving the Cave.

Once he’s gone, Steph says: “You can get a feed up next B goes up there, right?”

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Tim grins back.

Indeed, next time B goes up to the Watchtower a few days later, her and Tim are crowded around the screen again, watching it unfold. Snickering when everyone seems to be sending B ‘subtle’ glances and being generally unsure of what to say to him.

Superman is the first one to dare, tentatively asking: “Are- are you okay, Batman?”

“I am,” B grunts, obviously wanting to avoid further conversation.

Naturally, Superman doesn’t pick up on that and carefully adds: “And… is Robin?”

“He’s fine,” B says curtly.

“He?” Wonder Woman asks, joining her two friends. “What happened to the Robin we met last time?”

B now realizes the position Steph has forced him in and actually uses more words to answer: “She is no longer Robin. She became one with me, left Robin behind and broke free again as Spoiler.”

“Spoiler?”

“Yes, Spoiler,” B says and Steph get the feeling she made a mistake. “She is all the toxic parts, the pollution in the night skies of Gotham, coming together into one part. We have a lot of companies dumping stuff, it was bound to happen,” B explains, sending a covert look to the nearest camera, knowing that they’re watching him.

“Oh that fucker!” Steph pouts as Tim laughs at her, the traitor.

Superman and Wonder Woman both send him a look, but the three are interrupted by Flash, who comes speeding up to them, asking: “That looked painful? Is it like giving birth or something?”

“Flash!” Superman catechizes.

Meanwhile, B flushes bright red (can’t be seen with the cowl, but Steph knows, she has been embarrassing him for a long time now). With a pinched expression, he grits out: “It’s a complex and very private affair.”

Flash’s apology is drowned out by Steph’s cheer as she triumphantly exclaims: “Ha! Who’s vengeance now, B!”

~~

A/N:

I realize that I may be projecting my crush on Wonder Woman, however, I will not apologize for it, bc I have great taste <3

[whitehotharlots]

It appears the manic safetyism the left has mandated for the past 15 years has begun to harm their ability to report issues that generate the demand for said safetyism.

A shame, really. Media overrun by guardrails protecting people against threats that were so fleeting and phantasmal they were forgotten long ago, everyone forced to pretend that terms like "unalive" replaced "dead" organically, or at least for reasons understandable to someone, somewhere, who is not completely insane.

I saw a thing the other day--one of the slimiest forms of clickbait where someone re-posts a piece of social media on a different platform, from a bigger account, presumably reaping ad revenue off someone else's content. It was one of them "Am I the Asshole" threads from Reddit. Don't remember its content at all--those are mostly fake, anyway--but it stood out to me because the word "Control" had been censored in the headline and throughout the piece. Apparently that's bad brand association, gives people the ick in regards to whatever Chinese boner pills or Keto supplements or knockoff contraceptive devices need to be sold to keep the internet functioning.

That got me thinking about all the times you'll see a video that contains naughty words that are spoken clearly in the audio but replaced with asterisks in the captioning. I had presumed this was a simple extension of trigger warnings, people wanting to avoid getting yelled at or having their accounts suspended. It's just "being a decent fucking person," after all. Any psychologist will tell you that the profound trauma survivors suffer upon seeing the word rape in print goes away entirely if the word is spelled r*pe. Words are violence, after all. They cause hurt to vulnerable folx. Do you want to be violent? Do you realize how many people you're killing every time you speak? Just do what what we tell you, obey our ever-increasing slew of incessantly weird and petty linguistic mandates or else I'll call your boss, tell your teachers, get you fired, put you in prison, etc etc.

But taking away ad revenue? Oh no, oh shit, that's a bridge too far! Won't someone think of the click merchants?!? Weep for all the important stories that shall no longer be profitably told--the trans influencers changing our perception about public architecture through dance poetry, the brave women exposing the inherent sexism within Behtesda, Maryland public sanitation department, the bold new Alf conspiracy theory that's drivin' fans insane, the development of 6 new cocktails inspired by the third season of HBO's Arli$... all gone, beaten, washed away like tears in the rain...

[smokescreenimusprime]

Hello again! I've been scrollign through some of your older au's and just- I need more GoD. I want more possible younger/older brother relationship between Smokey & Predaking, even though technically Smokey's older(he's the little brother, he's definitely more immature than Preds). Also, I have to ask: What did happen when Soundwave tried to groundbridge him off the ship?

I wanna see possible Smokey & Preds saving the other Predacons, or if they're not able to, for at least a bonding moment with Smokey comforting Predaking after he's lost his siblings. I wanna see the reactions of the team to the anonymous helper, sending them decepticon info and nothing else. I wanna see their reactions to the supposed ghost, haunting Darkmunt. I wanna see if they blame themselves. Do they think they should've been nicer to him? To the basically kid, who gave up his life to give them the chance to end this war? Who never got the chance of seeing his home planet not plauged by war and destruction? Do they blame themselves for his spark not being able to rest, supposedly stuck here on earth, not let into the allspark and haunting the ones who killed him? Do they blame themselves for his death? Do they?

W E L L >:DDDDD

with Soundwave, this was something inspired from when Smokey yote himself off the Nemesis. Specifically how when he was falling, he ended up turning the Shifter off before he was about to fall through one of the portals only to get knocked aside by Megatron

(does this kinda contradict the S2 finale and how Smokey snuck back in canon? Maybe, but to be fair 1) that part of canon doesn't exist anymore, 2) the Phase Shifter is a little broken and doesn't work the same way anymore and 3) canon broke the logic first so Therefore I'm legally allowed to do the same)

anyways, why Soundwave doesn't talk about it

just. Smokescreen cranked up his Vengeful Ghost Factor to 20. When Soundwave tried ground bridging him off the ship, he simply kept slowly walking toward the mech, straight through the portal as if it didn't exist in the first place. He was relentless in his following, but also very very careful to never be fully in sight. Aside from a few slow following attempts, Smokey just stayed in the walls and floor around him. He'd hide in the floor and grab at his feet, gently brush his hands on his plating when he found him in the halls, would seek our and destroy any and all security cameras he could to make Soundwave just a little bit more blind

Soundwave doesn't mess with Smokescreen very much after that

but on a completely different note, you're absolutely right, Smokey and Predaking have SUCH sibling energy. Smokescreen talks for hours about anything and everything, but Predaking's favorite stories are the ones Smokey read in the Archives. He loves learning about Cybertronian culture, art, history, all those beautiful things which he never had a chance to experience himself. He's also fiercely protective of the smaller bot, and sure said protection is unnecessary on account of the whole He's Already Dead thing (at least to his knowledge), he can't help it

the two also like to go on long flights together. Smokescreen will hitch a ride on Predaking's back and they'll soar through the atmosphere together, nothing but the wind holding them back and gravity bending to their whims. These flights also serve as good secure places for them to talk without any of the Decepticons hearing them since whispering directly into Predaking's ears can get a little tiring for simple conversation

it's actually during one of these flight trips that Smokescreen tells Predaking about the Decepticon's plans to kill the other Predacons, at which he understandably flips his absolute SHIT. He's about ready to go on a fucking rampage and sets a good deal of the sky on fire, and it's only through some very desperate convincing on Smokey's part that the mech doesn't fly back to the Nemesis right that instant and tear them to shreds

so they come up with a plan. Predaking will distract the Autobots and keep them away for long enough so Smokescreen can use the phase shifter to get them all to safety by leading them deeper into the tunnels. Then they'll use the CNA and Synthetic Energon being stored to blow the place sky high so the Decepticons think the Predacons are dead and that they have Predaking's loyalty secured

I'll admit, I'm not too sure where exactly to go from here in terms of that specific plot thread. My best idea right now is Smokescreen hacking the Decepticon Groundbridge controls and stealing energon to keep them all fed which he simply disguises as his usual Ghostly Shenanigans. Predaking definitely affectionately call him their "Preda-prince" but given how close the two of them are it's basically official and he's considered a Predacon in all but frame by all of them

and Y E S with the Autobots. Wheeljack's account of this "ghost" is enough to raise some eyebrows. After all, he isn't a superstitious person, and the fact he's not that skeptical about it..... well, that's a little weird already

and oh boy, wouldn't it be fun if when they tried to take down Darkmount, Smokescreen ended up giving them some help behind the scenes :)

and honestly, the aftermath of that is going to be painful, for both groups. Smokescreen because as much as he desperately wants to reunite with the other Autobots, he can't deny that being behind enemy lines like this could be SUPER useful. He could feed the Autobots information, interfere with the Decepticons plans and technology, lower their morale to make them easier opponents......

it's too tantalising to give up because the Autobots need every advantage they have, especially now, so he decides to pay dead for a little while longer

but of course....... the Autobots are still completely under the impression he's dead. The guilt is all still there, and the fact it seems Smokescreen's spark is lingering in such a wrathful way? That despite everything he's done, the ultimate sacrifice he gave, he's been trapped and tethered to this plane of existence and not allowed the relief of the Allspark

it tears them apart inside :)

[chucksalamone]

Hi, I wanted to privately reach out about your album, Absent Moon. I first listened to it earlier this year and I loved the music and singing and story. It made me deeply empathize with the characters and feel a connection to their world, and I was very curious to know more. I especially loved the characterization of Wayne and Dedusmuln, and the music of Seasons. They creatively inspired me. Later I joined the Hylics Discord server, and shared some of my crazy "what-if" theories for fun. But to my surprise, you saw my message, and told me I was overthinking it, which would have been fine, except you also said my ideas made you feel nervous? And it broke my heart that my creative exercise had such a reaction. I was only trying to show how much I appreciated your work. And although I try not to think about it, I still feel guilty that I was being creative in a 'wrong' way that you seemed to find hurtful. That's why I want to clear things up. I hope this is okay.

Okay, I found it, sorry. I remember this exact interaction. My reaction wasn’t to make you feel disparaged. Not a lot of people know about the origins of absent moon, and where I was at mentally and emotionally, but for those that do you’d understand why I was taking great pride and still take great pride in that project. I’m all for fan theories, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, but the purpose of absent moon was to tell a definitive story, and being that Mason and I have been dragging our feet on, revealing what the story is about, I didn’t want any fan theories to Develop into something that would consider canon. I’ve seen this happen a lot and I’d be lying. If I said, I didn’t want to maintain complete and total control of the narrative of absent moon. Again, that’s not to say I don’t appreciate fan theories. They are most certainly welcome, however, in this instance, the story of absent moon is a complete bridge from the events of Hylics 2 to the events of Hylics 3. I’m not one for tone indicators, as I’m a bit older, but I have nothing but warmth and love for this fanbase. If you were made to feel like your ideas weren’t good, I apologize. As long as the idea is relatively nonviolent/non-sexual/etc. I’m fine with most things. I won’t speak for Mason fully on that, but he also loves looking at fanart! The best I can do is ask for you to trust that we have crafted an incredible narrative, and that I took a lot into consideration, while writing absent moon, even Moonage lobotomy. I’ve grown very close to these characters, especially because of the fanbase. In time, I hope that you can understand this explanation. I’m not asking you to forgive me I’m simply providing you with more details, as this particular instance/project has extreme personal nuance, that can only be applied to my experience (unfortunately). Perhaps one day when it’s all behind me, I’ll be able to talk about it more openly. Even after over a year, I’m still looking to absent moon to gain more insight into how I was processing things. Please feel free to reach out again.