#one of whom would kill your brother and take his place

[hollenka99]

YouTube yesterday: Hey btw The Longest Johns just released a song about Horatio Nelson's death.

Me: Cool, excuse me as I stare off into space and think about L'Manburgian soldiers' reaction to hearing about Kiril's dying to withering whenever I play the song.

[meanbossart]

What is your take on Astarion's relationship with his siblings?

I have put unreasonable amounts of time into thinking about what the dynamics were like during Cazador's reign in that house. I mean, imagine sharing the same tasks, bedrooms, and general experiences of abuse and duress with the same people FOR TWO HUNDRED YEARS. That's absolute madness. If any of you have had experiences with co-living with family under stress for any extensive amount of time, you know very well the levels of emotional 4D chess-ing that tend to take place as a result. You end up distributing so much frustration and anger around and often onto the very same people you will ultimately seek comfort from - this is that situation but blown up to impossible proportions.

So, "strained" doesn't really do justice as a descriptor here. I believe the family had a dynamic, ever-evolving hierarchy within itself, years-worthy of time where the spawn shifted alliances and made "cliques" within themselves - rebels would evolve into pushovers and trusted friends would turn into snitches. You had endless amounts of drama within the group and flies on the walls would witness them cut each other's heads off one day and sob into one another's laps the next.

Naturally I think all of them were resistant to the concept of being a "family" at first, but it's pretty much impossible to not develop family-like ties throughout that long of a period. Following Cazador's death, I believe there would be further splintering within as some want to maintain said ties and others are eager to cut them - seeing both their siblings and the relationships themselves as yet another painful reminder of what Cazador imposed upon them.

I think Astarion falls into the latter category. If he had his way, he would never see, speak, or think of his brothers and sisters again. And while the sibling nomenclature is a deeply-rooted habit, he doesn't think it holds any legitimacy whatsoever (whether or not that's the case in his heart is another matter).

Dalyria (the moon-elf physician, whom I have come up with a story, personality, background and motivations during several long showers that might not necessarily line up with yours, so, if anything of what I'm about to say seems pulled out of a hat, it's because it was) is the opposite. She has grown attached to the constant presence of her siblings and taken a mother-goose role upon herself. With the Exception of Leonard and Violet (more on that later) she has decided they are her responsibility and wishes the group would stick together.

I like to think that there's a lot of history between those two in particular. Obviously, the interactions between Astarion and his siblings are very brief, but It's enough to run with. Dalyria shows a lot of concern and understanding towards him and even pleads when he threatens Petras' life - again, I think she did a lot of trying to pragmatically keep the peace among them and genuinely grew attached to a few - Astarion being the main one of said few. You even get the smallest hint of a on-and-off intimate relationship with the way he derisively calls her by her nickname.

Also, Astarion very occasionally showcases enough emotional maturity that I could see him latching onto the one other person around who seems to have her wits about her, but he's still flawed enough that Dalyria can think of him as a younger sibling that needs her care. Not to mention that, to me, she demonstrates a penchant for moral superiority and a dash of a machiavellian outlook, based on her diary and her completely unapologetic initiative to kill a child on the small chance it would lead her to a cure - not any child either, but Leonard's child. I can totally see Astarion sympathizing and gravitating towards someone like that.

Which brings us to the rest of the siblings - I would wager that, at least by the end of it all, Leonard and Violet were the odd-ones out. As it tends to happen within any tight-knit group, when one succeeds by stepping over the others (even if the reasons for it are justifiable) that brews a lot of resentment and eventual exclusion. Leonard not only did that, but he apparently still held onto hope of future and family outside the Szarr house; wheter or not everybody wanted out, I think a us-versus-them mentality is unavoidable under those circumstances, and Leonard was looked down upon by the others in their respective ways for what he was trying to do.

Violet just seems like she had gone a little cuckoo to me. We get very little about her, but when I think of an adult woman playing childish pranks on her roomates while you are all stuck in what's essentially a human trafficking ring... I think of a person who's either just a very silly breed of evil or who has lost touch with reality, and the latter is more interesting, imo. I think no one liked her, not only because she was a nuisance but also because she became completely emotionally untouchable. I think both Violet and Leonard are spawn who did not survive long after they were all freed.

I'll stop here before I ramble on for another 8 paragraphs about Aurelia, Yousen and Petras (Oh Petras, my beloved), but, yes, suffice to say that I believe it was kind of complicated LOL

EDIT: Not me calling Leon "Leonard" this whole post. Sorry buddy, you look like a Leonard.

[azsazz]

Equinox

Kinktober Day 29: Eris x Reader [Throne Sex]

Summary: Anon Req: Ooo what about eris x reader public sex on his throne?

Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), dom x sub dynamics, exhibitionism, (mentioned voyeurism)

Word Count: 2,510

_________________________________________

Eris is thoughtful with his steps, as if he knows you’ve struggled all night in the tight, tall heels making your feet ache. You clutch the skirts of your elegant emerald dress, head turned towards the ground as you watch your steps, trying not to trip. You look nothing as Eris does, with his learned grace, gliding up the stairs how only one from a royal family would. Your cheeks burn hot with a blush, humiliated already at the fact that someone with a status just above farmhand would be his chosen for the night.

You can feel the eyes staring holes into your back. Jack—who escorted you on your fathers behalf—watches from his spot on the outskirts of the room, copper chalice brimmed with hearty wine clutched tightly in his fist. If he were a higher fae, he’d be burning this place to the fucking ground.

Peeking through the curtain of your hair, you note that Eris’ brothers have already started in on the fun. Pyrolas sits on his throne, females perched on the arm of each chair. There’s a male on the floor between his knees, and you can hear him begging the Autumn heir to unleash his cock from his trousers.

One Eris’ other side is Conleth. Third born, he’s the most docile of the group. You’ve heard him to be wicked with his fingers, drawing the string of his bow with such precision he could kill from a mile away. Even he seems to be participating in the equinox traditions, though the flush to his cheeks and gleam to his auburn gaze tells you that he’d needed the liquid courage to be knuckle deep in the naked male he has grinding on his lap. Lucky for him and his brothers, Beron has retired for the night, and they can claim whom they please.

A throne down from Conleth is Oakland. Ever the strategist like his oldest brother, he’s still scouring the crowd, searching for the perfect person to spend the evening with. He sits tall in his chair, body rigid, but not with confidence. You can see right through his façade. He’s nearly trembling with nerves, you can see it in the way his fingers are curled around the arms of his chair. 

His eyes meet yours and you flinch. You’re not used to meeting any of their fiery gazes, let alone more than one.

Finally at the top of the dais, Eris turns, sitting down in his seat. The way that he’s able to look down at you despite being taller than him makes a shiver wrack your spine, and the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. 

His fingers are still intertwined with yours, and he gives them a gentle sway, trying to gain your attention although he already has it, has had it since you’d stepped into the room for the Autumnal Equinox.

“On your knees, fawn.” His tone is rough, tightening the collar of your dress. Fires rage high in hearths, almost licking the rich curtains draping from ceiling to floor. The room isn’t stifling because of that, though, but because of the magic in the air, the powers of the Autumn Equinox in full effect throughout the Court’s lands. 

You can feel that heat between your legs, wetting your panties. Your skin itches with the need to be touched, to be claimed. Rapt music glides through the air, sensual and alluring. The sounds of gasps and moans of pleasure fill the air as others join in, and your eyes flutter at the sound. Eris’ russet gaze licks down your body in a wave of warmth, and you follow it, dropping between the split of his toned thighs, coming face to face with his cock, straining against navy trousers.

You twist your fingers nervously, a lump in your throat. You want this, want to give yourself over to the Autumn Gods on this festive night, want Eris to splay you out and take you for his own, worshiping each other like those very Gods did while they’d walked this continent. You want to worship them as the fae still do now, with bodies and souls, intertwined, half him, half you for the perfectly half light, half night of the day. The most perfect day of the year.

Eris brushes his fingers down your soft cheek, admiring you. His touch sends you reeling, the rest of the room disappearing as his skin brushes yours. His thumb slides across your mouth and you can’t help but to part your lips, flicking your tongue out to taste him.

His russet eyes flare at the sight. He undoes his belt with one hand, pulling at the ties. With his other hand, he dips two fingers into your mouth. You suck greedily, releasing a whimper at his taste that chokes off as he presses his fingers further. He shoves his pants down his legs and his cock springs up, all flushed and ruddy at the head. You clench your fingers in your skirts, saliva pooling in your mouth as he jerks himself once, twice. Spit drips from the sides of your mouth around his fingers, making a mess already.

“Like what you see?” Eris asks, knowing full well that you can’t respond with words. Not with his fingers caressing the inside of your throat. You nod, jostling his digits in your throat, your esophagus constricting as you try to swallow. “Want to taste?”

Your eyes roll into the back of your skull at his words, moan mixing with one of the fae occupying his brother’s throne beside you. You don’t dare look anywhere but at your closed lids or at Eris, nothing can draw your attention away from him.

His fingers fall from your mouth to cradle your head with a large hand. You lick your lips and he follows the motion of your tongue, giving himself a rough jerk, grunting at the feeling. When he looks at you like this you don’t care that he doesn’t know your name, that he’s calling you fawn, or that people are watching. Not his brothers, not your escort, not any of the males or females falling on their knees, pleading for a chance with one of the Autumn Princes. 

Eris guides your face closer to his cock and it’s now you see the pearlescent beads of precum at his slit. You want to collect those drops like the precious pearls they are, roll them around on your tongue, burn them into your memory for centuries to come.

You part your lips, hot breath ghosting over his silken skin. The muscles of his abdomen flex, and when you flick your gaze up to meet his, he’s a goner.

“Open your mouth for me, fawn. Need to see that tongue.”

Pressing the rest of the way forward, you find the confidence to take his cock in your own grip, swatting his hand away so you can stroke him and lift him to your lips. Brushing across his slip with a groan, his flavor bursts on your tongue. He’s entirely autumn, tasting of the musk of the earth, smoky wood and crisp breezes. You vow to yourself that this will not be the last time you taste him, he’s utterly addicting.

Eris chokes at the sight of you, drooling over the hard lines of his cock, licking, kissing, sucking your way around the sensitive skin. He hisses through his teeth, guiding you where he likes, shoving you down to lap at his balls. You follow obediently, showing him just how good you can be.

After giving him a thorough lick, Eris growls, having had enough of your errant teasing. By a fist of your hair, he’s allowing you to slide your lips down his cock, taking him in full. When he hits the back of your throat you gag, but he loves it, pressing you down further until you can’t breathe, his girth stretching your throat. 

It feels like a fire burning in your windpipe, stifling and hot. He jerks his hips, using his hand in your hair to guide you up and down on his cock. It makes tears prick your eyes, your cheeks flushed hot. Your nails dig into the skin of his thighs but it only spurs him on, loud moans echoing off of the walls of the ballroom.

“Fuck, fawn,” he pants, stare pinned to how you’re taking over, moving against him now, suckling his cock greedily. You’re a sight to see like this, covered in spit, cheeks stuffed full of his cock. “You feel fucking amazing.”

You moan in response to him, losing yourself in the throes of his cock in your mouth. You try to suck any noise that you can from him, enjoying the way they’re for your ears only, despite the lewd sounds accompanying the deep, heady music. 

With a hiss, Eris pulls you from his cock. You’re panting, brows furrowing sadly from the loss but Eris is caressing your cheeks with both hands again, thumbs sliding through the wetness around your mouth, cooing softly. 

“You did so well for me, fawn. I bet you’re so wet, gushing for me, aren’t you?” He asks, and you whine because yes, your thighs are pressed so tightly together they’re trembling, and none of it is stimulating your crying clit, either.

“Yes,” you plead, gripping his wrists, eyes wide. “So wet for you, prince.” 

If he’s not going to call you by your name, you won’t call him by his either.

Doesn’t seem to matter to Eris, though, because he’s shuddering and tugging you from the floor to your feet, spinning you around so his pale, freckled ass is to your audience, your hands planted on the arms of his chair as he bends you over. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he nudges his hips against yours, cock pressing into the soft fabric of your dress. You can feel his length against your hind, shivering as his fingers find the ties of your dress. His torso is pressed tight to your back and his breath is hot in your ear as his teeth graze your cheek.

“Do you want me to bend you over my throne, little fawn, or would you like to ride my cock?” 

It’s surprising that he’s giving you the choice, a prince so often used to his demands being listened to. This…you…you are different though. The surge of fire within him is not that of lust. It’s a slow roiling of hot coals, compact with heat. They stir, embers flaring at the sight of your exposed skin while he slips your dress further and further down your back, exposing your creamy skin.

Your body is squeezed tight; eyes shut at the feeling of his fiery touch licking down your spine, your thighs clenched, cunt dripping and aching with need. Your muscles are constricted, body shaking with anticipation. Your mind whirls, trying to make sense of his words.

“Cock,” you gasp as he palms over your newly exposed breasts. The bite of the ballroom hardens your nipples, but the warmth of Eris’ fingers soothes them. You shudder with pleasure, arching into his chest at your back. “Want to sit on your cock, prince.” 

His cock jumps at your use of his title. He growls deeply, nipping at your ear. Your whimper carries on an autumn breeze, down the line of thrones to Pyrolas, who uses his minute wind magic to listen in. Eris’ eye blaze brightly as he shoots his younger brother a searing glare. Pyrolas’ powers had come in handy often when they were young and listened in on conversations they shouldn’t have been, but now that the second born knows how to use them to his advantage, Eris is more careful than not when he speaks.

But he will not be sharing you, despite the fact that the room is crowded with courtiers and patrons under their rule. 

He will show them all who you belong to.

“I was hoping you’d say that, little fawn,” he murmurs, lips hot against your throat. Eris stands and you shiver at the loss of his warmth, straightening and spinning around on your heel, chasing him. He’s only stepped away to undress, fingers quickly maneuvering the buttons of his shirt open. It slides from his broad, freckle smattered shoulders like butter.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. Eris kicks away the rest of his trousers, allowing you to get your fill. Rippling muscles line his body. He’s cut and hard like his bobbing cock, waiting so prettily for you.

He sits on his throne, one leg straight out, looking ever like the arrogant prince he’s supposed to be. His smirk only adds to his front, and he offers you a hand.

Taking it, you allow Eris to help you, parting your thighs across each of his muscular ones.

He takes himself in his hand, jerking once before he’s sliding his hot tip against your folds. You gasp, shuddering at the feeling, hips circling softly, following his cock like a magnet. Eris’ smirk turns wolfish as you chase, allowing you to sink down on his girth.

“Fuck,” he hisses, because the wetness of your cunt feels too damn good. “Trying to stifle my flames, fawn?”

You can hardly even reply, fingers curling into the meat of his shoulders as you rise. There is no taking things slow. The bite of his cock stretching your walls feels too good, the sensual music combined with the moans floating through the air and the grunts Eris makes is euphoric, the feeling of him penetrating you, cock so lengthy it hits your womb everytime you sink down. Everything feels like fire in your bones, your heart, your blood. 

You’re hot all over, messy between your thighs, but Eris seems to be enjoying himself, watching hungrily as your head rolls back on your shoulders with pleasure. When he can no longer control himself, his fingers are pressing into your thighs harshly, guiding your body faster, up and down and up and down. He leans forward, lips suctioning to the skin of your throat because it’s exposed and he’s hungry, his fires need kindling to burn brighter.

The drapes on the walls set alight as his pleasure crests. The air becomes scolding and you can hardly breathe. His touch burns your body in the best way. He’s hitting that bundle of nerves inside of you with each thrust he makes, and you don’t even know when you stopped bouncing for him, allowing him to hold you steady and buck his hips like a desperate male. 

Your body courses with heat and you cum with a cry, collapsing into him. Eris fucks you through it, your pleasure spaking his own. He follows you with a heady groan, teeth gnashing at your skin. The press of his hold, the graze of his teeth feel as though he’s trying to brand you with every part of his body pressed to yours. His hot cum between your legs sears, marking you.

Claiming you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Kinktober Taglist:@bunnymallowo@jeannineee@icey–stars@hannzoaks@harrystylesfan2686@azriels-shadowsinger @alysena2 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @reading-moongirl

[mae-gi-writes]

rile you up | lee Minho (xo kitty)

You’re Minho’s latest form of entertainment and he cannot just get enough of riling you up.

Genre: romcom, slice of life, school!au, minho is a little dick

———

“Fuck you, Minho.”

“What a ray of sunshine you are on this fine day.”

You grit your teeth together, almost grind them to nothing, and repeat the words with even more conviction, “I said fuck you.”

”Watch that tongue sunshine, might fall out if you’re not careful,” Minho’s grin just widens at the way your eyes have narrowed into slights. If looks could kill, he would’ve been shot int he head twice, revived, and shot once again. But thankfully for him, your narrow-eyed stare is nothing scarier than a cute kitten ready to take her claws out.

It’s a boring, rainy and muddy Wednesday afternoon and you really don’t want to be here, in English Lit, listening to professor Lau drone on and on about love and friendship in the verses of Lord Byron’s poems and how, if you read in-between the lines and analyze the intonations, the words, the onomatopieas, you’ll find a much deeper definition of Lord Byron’s feelings.

And Minho sitting right beside you is not making it much easier.

“You���ve got a pimple growing on your left cheek,” Minho squints at your face as you turn away, cupping your face with your hands as your eyes find the lock tick, tick, ticking at the far end of the classroom. Thirty more minutes of this torture.

“Can you just stop hyper-analyzing me like I’m some kind of lab rat?I’m really not in the mood for this right now.” You snap back.

“Woah,” Minho sighs before he shakes his head, “you really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“And you, my friend, need to mind your own business.”

“Minho and Y/N.”

Professor Lau’s voice causes both of them to wince, physically, before looking up to see the said old man with bespectacled glasses, the book of poems in his hand and his eyebrows raised as though he expected better.

If you’re being honest, you really do enjoy Professor Lau’s classes, normally. Normally.

But not today. Today, you’re having a completely off day. You woke up late, you couldn’t sleep at all last night, and all the coffee had run out by the time you’d made it to campus. Your grades are suffering and you’re currently trying to ploughing through all the assignments without drowning.

And the worst of it all, you miss home.

You miss your mom. You miss your family, your brother with whom you would fight with at every occasion and play Mario kart with. You missed your grandma, your aunts, the food they cooked, the shared laughter, the smiles…

You’re in so deep in your thought process that you haven’t even registered that Professor Lau is telling you off until he calls for your name that brings you back to attention.

“—yes?” Your eyes flit up to Professor Lau’s and a wave of emotion suddenly takes its toll on you. You try hard to blink back the sudden burn of tears at the corner of your eyes, crawling up your throat.

“I was expecting better of your behaviour, miss Y/N,” he says, pointedly looking between you and Minho with pursed lips, “in my office after class. You’re up for cleaning duty.”

Great. That’s exactly what you need. After everything.

Fucking. Great.

———

“These pretty hands cannot clean,” these are Minho’s first words as the rest of the class files out to leave you two alone on cleaning duty and as you had predicted, there are papers all over the place, test papers and pens and pencils, “I’ve taken care of my hands all these years. I am not ruining it just to clean a classroom.”

“You are so freaking dramatic,” you roll your eyes, standing up to find the cleaning supplies that are stacked at the back of the class, in the storage closet, “let’s just get this over with and we can both move on with our lives and I won’t have to see you again for the rest of this week.”

“What’s up your arse, dude?” Minho follows you, one hand leaning on the doorframe as you start pulling out the duster, the cleaning rags and the shiny new broom that Professor Lau is currently obsessed with, “you’ve been acting really weird.”

“What?” You scoff, proceeding to hand him the broom because you know he’s never going to be the one on his hands and knees cleaning the floors, “I’m not. I’m just tired.”

“No, you’ve been acting off all week. You’re all snappy, your dark circles are so prominent you look like a walking zombie and you keep asking me to go fuck myself,” Minho rolls his eyes, “also, how do you use this?”

“Jesus chri—“ you make a move towards him, grabbing the hand holding the broom while struggling to circle his back and grabbing the other, “you keep that thing steady, then you brush the dirt from this one—“ you grip his hand and shuffle it over the floor in a sweeping motion, “until it goes into the pan. Got it?”

It's only then you realize the warmth emanating from Minho's back. If you move a little closer, you could press your cheek against him. He smells like something citrus and fresh mint and man.

Somehow, it makes goosebumps explode all over your skin. You step back abruptly, noting the heat searing through your palms where you had touched him just as he turns to face you, "you seem to be a natural at this. Why don't you do it?"

"I'm gonna take care of the floors," you're glad for the distraction that comes in the form of the rag, for there's a knot of heat in the middle of your chest and you're not quite sure how to deal with it, "let's just get this over with."

There's a long moment of silence as both of you focus on your tasks, which helps to calm down your nerves. Somehow, the sound of Minho's brush is conforting to hear.

Until he speaks up, "so you're gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Why should I tell you, of all people?"

"Because there's nobody else around and seeing you all mopey makes me actually feel bad for you."

You wipe off the dusty corner by the teacher's desk, "Do you have any ounce of decency in you somewhere?"

"Not when you're involved," Minho snickers.

You whip around, throw the balled-up rag at him and smirk in satiafaction when it hits him square in the head, "ow--what the fuck, Y/N?!"

Glad that you managed to piss him off, you turn and continue, "oops sorry. My hand slipped."

It's not ultimately Minho's fault that you're more anxious, more easily irritated than usual. So you can't really take it out on him. But he doesn't make it any easier either.

Thankfully, the rest of the cleanup goes smoothly as butter and he parts ways with the excuse that he needs to go find his aupposed lunch date, to which you merely rolles your eyes and headed for the dining hall alone.

It doesn't normally bother you to be alone. On the contrary, you relish in those silent moments of freedom without having to hear an earful from Kitty and Q, or having Yuri complain about yet another one of her life's family miseries.

But as you find a vacant seat by the door, you can't help but suddenly feel a little small in a room full of people who seem to be right where they should be. And something in your heart constricts and clenches so hard it causes a soft sob to die at the back of your throat.

You grip your spoon a little tighter and bite down so hard on your lip that you feel the tangy taste of blood.

It feels lonely.

------

You're kind of sick.

Not physically sick.

Just sick of hearing christmas carols ringing all over campus. Sick of smelling hot chocolate in the air, sick of seeing luggages being dragged on vacation.

Sick of being here.

For an international student, returning home for Christmas was never an option. The airplane ticket is too expensive for your familt to afford, and you wouldn't ever impose that on them. But if you had to admit to that selfish part of you; you wished you were privileged enough to get to fly out at every chance you got.

Alas, that is not the kind of life that you live.

So when the doorbell rings at seven-thirty in the morning on Christmas Eve, you're more than surprised to find none other than Minho standing by your door with his hands in his pockets.

"Wh--Yeah? What do you want?" You frown upon noticing the lack of luggage behind him. Knowing Minho, he packed like a diva.

He hums and peeks inside your flat, causing you to shuffle into his peripheral vision, "what do you want Minho?"

"You're not packed."

"Wise observation, smartass."

He brushes past you and strides inside, taking his shoes off casually by the door, "why not?"

"None of your business."

He throws you an exasperated look, "you gonna keep being like this?"

"I don't know, are you gonna keep annoying the hell out of me?"

He can't help the grin that spreads over his face at that, "you're fun to mess around with."

"Well for your information, it's not fun. Not for me," you don't hesitate to walk over before grabbing onto his arm and tugging over to the door, "really. I'm fine. Now leave."

"I'm surprised you're not going home for Christmas," he continues as you're pushing him out of the door.

It stings, "why?"

"International kids usually do," he folds his arms, proceeds to lean into the open doorway and you got another whiff of his scent, "what? Daddy didn't want to pay for you this time?"

"My dad died. Two years ago."

There's surprise first, that flashes through his eyes. Then realization slowly dawns.

There’s some kind of weight in your chest. Like your heart has just broke.

"What?" You laugh but it's dry and twisted, "cat got your tongue? Too shocked to speak? Poor little Y/N, who doesn't have a father to pay off her credit card bills, right?"

"I didn't know--"

"Of course you didn't. You never asked."

"I'm--" he swallows, looks away, "—sorry."

You scoff, "don't. It's okay. I've been over it for the past two years."

It's not what he says but rather the way he looks at you that makes your insides shrivel up with dread and fear and the idea that he'll never look at you the same way ever again.

Because the thing is, no matter how much Mjnjo teases you, bullies you into oblivion, you do enjoy the attention, the banter. It's almost as if it's better than just being ignored altogether.

And amidst all his teasing and his annoying personaity, there are bite and smidges of Minho's kindness smattered in-between, flecks of tenderness that makes your heart soar, your brrath

To have such a man look down at you, pity you, makes you want to be sick.

"Y/N--" you cut him off before he can even try to make it up to you, "it's fine, Minho. Just drop it--"

"Wha--I said I was sorry, don't give me that look--"

"I said drop it!" You swerve around on him, anger bubbling from deep within your chest as blood pulses through, rushes through you, "for one goddamn second, can you just leave me alone?! I don’t need this—this constant bullying of your part! It’s tiring and it’s just so goddamn frustrating and humiliating so will you just stop?!”

The shocked silence that follows your sudden outburst is heavy. If the tension had been thick before, it’s now so hard you can barely cut it with a knife. You try to regulate your staccato breaths, try not to let your body take over your mind as you focus on breathing in, breathing out, breathing in. Breathing out. Just like that.

Calm. Like water. Like you’re a river that never stops.

“Just go, Minho,” your words are bitter. You can barely look his way, an overwhelming surge of irritation, guilt and hurt swimming through you.

Thankfully, the young man seems just as surprised as you are and leaves without even a backward glance. That’s when you finally cave in and allow your legs to crumble to your floor. Pressing your head against the door, your body instantly gives into the sadness that crumbles through you like used up tissue, soaking in all the tears that are suddenly cascading down your cheeks without restraint.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

———

“Minho, I’m really sorry about my behaviour.”

You stare.

Your reflection stares back.

Shit. This doesn’t feel right. You close your eyes, exhale a soft breath, and open them once more only to find a set of familiar brown eyes gazing back at you.

It’s just the day after Christmas and though the majority of your friends were still off campus, you’re well aware that a certain Korean young man has decidedly stayed back because of his mother’s offshoot shooting commercial.

However, you still hadn’t gotten the guts to go back and ask him for a formal apology yet. Did you even need one when he’d been the one prodding you with a stick like he would with a nest of aggressive bees?

Oh well. You decided you’d be the bigger person and make the first move. As always.

So you look back to your reflection with renewed determination, take a deep breath before forcing the words out, “I am really sorry for my shitty behaviour, Minho, I should’ve—no,” you shake your head, start again and clasp your hands together for good measure, “I’m really sorry if I offended you in any way, I was hurt—no. God. I sound so pathetic.” You can’t help but curse at the mirror.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breath. And you try once more, this time adding a small smile.

“I’m really sorry for everything that I said. I was being a bit insensitive and wasn’t in the right headspace—“ you break off with a frustrated snarl, “god! Why is it so hard to apologize to the dude?!”

“The dude’s standing right here.”

Shocked, you swivel around only to find none other than the said question in person leaning against your doorway, eyebrows raised and a semblance of a smirk lining his lips.

“M—Minho,” you feel like slapping yourself for sounding like a stuttering goldfish. Quickly, your hands smooth down your sweater, hiding them in the big bell sleeves as your eyes find everything — anything, to get off his face, “what—what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, actually.”

“Why?”

You’re still not looking, deciding that the faint crack in your dorm room is much more interesting.

Minho’s footsteps approach as he strides close, close enough that you get a whiff of his expensive cologne and restrain yourself from sighing out loud.

The bastard smells too good, you feel like crying.

“Why?” He scoffs, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Fine,” you’re still not looking at him, which is why you almost jump out of your skin the moment you feel the gentlest graze of his fingertips at your jaw.

“Wha—“ you stutter, eyes flashing up to his on instinct.

Dark brown meets swirls of maroon. You almost lose your breath.

In the mid-morning light with sunshine falling over half of his face, Minho looks like he’d just walked out of some fashion magazine.

“What are you…doing?” You manage to murmur out. Barely.

It’s hard to concentrate when he’s right there, in your personal space, looking a little too dashing for his own good.

“You’re right. I was being a selfish dick to you two days ago,” his grip on your chin is firm, his dark eyes even firmer, “so I’m sorry if you took it the wrong way.”

You laugh, “wait—is Minho actually apologizing? To me?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“But this is a legendary moment,” you fake a mocking gasp at him, “I should record this right now.”

“Don’t make me regret it, Y/N.”

Chuckling, your eyes crinkle up as you allow yourself to roam over his features, “okay okay, I’ll stop.”

Minho fidgets and doesn’t say anything back. Weird, considering that he has a comeback for everything. You feel his hand drop from your chin as he takes a step back, lips pressed together and face looking like he’s uncomfortable being here.

Do you make him uncomfortable? It’s not a sight you’re used to seeing. Something tugs at your heartstrings but you try and ignore it.

“What is it?” You ask instead.

“There is…” his eyes dart away, “something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

His hand drops. Instantly, cold swoops in.

“About me. And you.”

You squint, “Minho I swear, if this is one of your stupid jokes again—“

“I like you.”

You blink.

He gazes back. His eyes. They’re gazing straight at you. Focused. Intense. Hot.

So hot it causes a flame to burst in your chest.

Wait…your mind backtracks, what?

“You—“ your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more, "I'm sorry--what?"

His eyes answer in his stead. Dark orbs swirling with a depth that makes your skin explode in goosebumps. You realize, all too soon, how close you are, how -- if you want -- you can diminish the space between just with one single step forward.

"I like you," he says it honestly. Somehow, you relish in the way he says it. Clear and transparent. No inside games, no beating around the bush, "maybe more than a little."

You sense a but. "And?"

He rolls his eyes, "and maybe I just don't know how to show it."

"You mean, acting like a five year old boy who bullies his crush for fun because he likes her?"

"Something like that."

"Okay," you drag out the word in hopes that it will hide the way your heart suddenly skips a beat, the way your legs feel weaker at the knees, "so what--what now?"

"Well, that's the part where you tell me you like me back--" Minho catches himself upon seeing you raise a brow at him, "--or not. Your choice, your rules, doll."

Doll? You can feel the flame bursting through your chest and squeezing your heart. It aches so much it hurts, though it seems that your smile can't help tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch him and despite his seeming nonchalance about the whole matter, there's the slightest sheen of pink that gives him away.

Cute. Your brain chants.

"Well," you tilt your chin up in what you hope is a confident manner, "you normally take a girl out to dinner first."

"Is that a yes?" Minho smirks.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, yes I heard alright. Fine," he sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "tomorrow night. Dinner. Be ready by six. I'll pick you up."

"Tomorrow? But wait I--"

"You better be there, doll."

And with that, he swivels on his feet and walk away while whistling a soft tune, leaving your heart flooded with a tide of mixed emotions that erupt through your chest and butterflies running along your skin.

---

Minho: I'll come pick you up by six. Be ready then. Wear something cute but casual. Nothing fancy.

Y/N: i like how you're telling me how to dress up when you're the one who's supposes to be wooing me.

Minho: oh you don't have to worry about that.

The way he replies so smoothly has goosebumps running along the back of your neck and you squeeze your hands into fists. You're still sitting on your bed, trying to digest all this new information as another flurry of messages burst through your phone, probably fron Kitty's latest reaction your news.

Kitty: what?! Minho?! And you?! He asked you out?!!! Omg how did I not see this coming!!!

Y/N: i thought you were a matchmaker.

Kitty: well YEAH before he went and ruined it!!! Anyway, what are you WEARING?!

Y/N: i have absolutely no idea. He said something cute but casual, so I'm guessing there's not gonna be any fancy dinners or anything.

Kitty: omg!! Minho and casual doesn't sound right. Maybe he really is trying to woo you!!

Y/N: should I wear shorts? Pants? A skirt?

Kitty: definitely no pants. Maybe that cute skater skirt you wore to Yuri's party last semester?

So you do. The skirt's baby blue colour contrasts well with the simple white tshirt you decided to wear with it, and throwing on a beige cardigan and some white sneakers complete the look. You add a small blue bow into your hair to match, and take one last look at yourself in hopes that you're looking exactly how Minho wants you to--

No. That's the wrong way to go about it. Minho likes you. Yes. You. Not the girls he's always so uses to seeing. You don't have to impress him.

That’s how you meet him right outside your door, with your newly-found resolve as you catch the simple white tee and ripped jeans, hair styled just the way he likes it, just enough to make every woman’s heart swoon.

His eyes do a once-over, “not bad, Y/N. You clean up nice.”

“Not bad?” You scoff, “I’m sure there are much better adjectives to use.”

He grins, “we’ll see.”

Minho brings you over to the Han river by electric scooter, with you standing in front and holding on to the handlebars as he guides you across the street even though it’s technically illegal for people to do such a thing. But with the wind in your hair and Minho’s warmth at your back, you don’t find yourself complaining.

“Han river?” You raise a brow at him as he parks and pays for his e-scooter ride, “really? So cliche.”

“The Han River is a classic,” he looks at you pointedly, “and I’ll have you know, I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

“Ooh, does that mean anything?” You wriggle your brows and he scoffs, looks away, “shut up.”

You weren’t expecting him, of all people, to be a fan of romantic gestures such as this. But when he parks his scooter in favor of walking alongside you by the trail — even with his multiple complaints about the dirt being too dirty and people needing to revisit their wardrobe fashion — you can’t help but wonder how much effort he’s putting into just being with you. Because knowing Minho, walking on crushed grass and having his shoes in dirt is quite a big deal.

“Look, do you want to be swooned or not?” He replies when you ask him the question, even looks offended that you’d dared ask such a thing, “I thought girls loved it when boys brought them here.”

“Yes I know that,” your grin is so wide that you’re surprised it hasn’t broken your face in two yet, “and don’t get me wrong. I love it, but I never thought you—of all people — would bring me here, of all places. It’s just not…”

“Not what?” He scowls.

“Just not you,” you confess, and then, seeing that his frown seems to take a permanent fixture on his face, you quickly add, “so the fact that you’re doing it…thanks. It means…something. You know?”

Heat springs through your cheeks at the sudden confession and you quickly look away, anywhere, but not before glancing at Minho to see that he has a faint smile dancing across his lips.

As the evening wears on, you get to talk about everything and anything; from worries about your future and the rigorous routine of adult life, about which game box is better and which restaurant serves the best korean noodles, which Minho argues does not exist, considering that every single noodle joint in Seoul is a pro in making them.

"We're the city of noodles and gimbap, obviously there's more than one good noodle stop."

"You speak like someone who hasn't tasted Uncle Cha's food yet. You know, the snack from across the road to campus."

Minho's nose wrinkles, "nah I'm good--"

"Oh no you don't," you grab onto his arm before he has a chance to run away, "nu-uh. Let's go get them right now, actually."

Surprisingly awed by Cha's cuisine, Minho has no other choice than to grumble out a faint agreement. It's no secret that it makes your day.

"But the environment--" Minho shudders, "I think I saw a cockcroach scuttling about in there."

“Oh yeah,” you let your eyes follow the wall and trail back up to him, pointing at his face, “there’s one.”

Shoving you playfully, he pulls out his tongue in such a childish manner you can’t help but burst out laughing.

You decide to take the walk back along the Han River even if it makes a detour, stopping by a coffee shop to grab some hot chocolate. The city lights now illuminate the city like stars scraping the earth’s surface and you can’t help but feel amazed by how beautiful the scenery is, with the wind trickling through your hair and soft music from busking sessions in the background.

“I’ve never actually walked along the Han River before,” you confess to him as you gaze down at the black waters sloshing against the river edge, “thanks, Minho.”

He has the look of a satisfied five year old child who got a gold star for his best behaviour, “you’re welcome.”

“Who knew you’d be the one to bring me here?” You jostle his shoulder playfully before taking a sip of your hot chocolate.

“What’s that you’re implying?” He frowns.

“That you’ve surprised me and my expectations.”

“And that’s supposed to be a compliment?” He looks horrified and dramatic, “you’re harsh, Y/N. I’ll have you know, I haven’t—“ he stops himself just in time for you to swoop in and push, “yeah? You haven’t what?”

“Nevermind,” he sips his own drink and you notice the way his ears have turned red.

You giggle, “tell me, have you gone on dates before?”

“Wha—of course I have! What kind of question is that?!” You keep on laughing and laughing at his face, shaking your head as you try and muffle your chuckles the best you can, “oh god—oh my god, you never have. It’s written all over your face—“

“You talk too much,” he mutters into his drink and turns away from you, ears as red as a fire engine.

You nudge him, smiling, loving that side of him that he’s never really shown anyone before. Because you all know the cool, confident Minho. But this, this side of Minho is uncharted territory.

And you’re all here for it.

“Why not, though?”

His eyes narrow as he looks back at you, “what?”

“Why haven’t you brought anyone out before?’ You fidget with your cup, glad that it’s warming your hands so you can busy yourself with something, “because I’ve seen you, with different types of girls. All the time—“

“Yeah that didn’t mean anything.”

“But you still went out with them.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice?”

“What?” Heat flushes through you, “no, I just—“

That’s when you feel it. His hand, fluttering up to yours. He pries your hold from your cup gently before bringing it down between you, fingers entangling with yours like they’re meant to be there in the first place.

And when your eyes flutter to lock onto his, there’s liquid warmth in those pools of brown, a tenderness you’ve seldom seen before.

“This is new too,” he murmurs then, “all of this.”

Your heart skips a beat. There are no words to be said.

You swallow thickly, look away, and don’t miss the soft chuckle that falls from his lips as he keeps swinging your hands back and forth between you, his smile a permanent fixture on his face. One that your lips mirror faintly as you keep walking back towards your dorms in comforting silence.

———

“Was that romantic enough for you?”

Minho’s question is met with a chuckle from your part as you finally reach your dormitory. A few stray students are still studying deep into the night, some already asleep on the deep blue couches in the common room as you make your way through, hands still entertained from earlier.

Your heart has been skipping and rollerblading into ecstasy ever since.

“Hmm,” you hum, even tilting your head in thought, “guess so. Though if I had any complaints—“

“You wouldn’t tell me, because there aren’t any,” Minho finishes for you, “right?”

“Oh i have plenty, but I’ll keep it for another time,” you flash him a mischievous smile. You’ve reached your corridor by that time, your words causing Minho to shoot you a suggestive look.

“another time?” He repeats with a cock of his brow.

You bite your lip and look away to avoid the fact that there’s a faint, yet growing smile on your face, “yeah. Maybe.”

The said young man’s lips pulls into a small smile, “I can work with that.” He murmurs, and something warm pools in the middle of your chest.

It’s hard to control yourself around Minho especially when he’s not being a little shit. Because the fact is; he’s very enticingly charming and likable.

“Well, that’s me,” you’ve reached your door then, glad that for once your dorm room is free of activity since both your roommates have gone home for the Christmas season, and turn towards Minho.

“Thanks you, for tonight,” your cheeks are warm with heat but you can’t resist grinning up at him, “I had more fun than expected.”

Minho sucks in a dramatic breath, “wow. I think i finally got a compliment out of your mouth.”

“Trust me, that’s me being nice.”

“I know,” he flashes a grin at you and before you know it, his arm has gone up to press against the doorway, caging you in and suddenly making you feel smaller than you are already. His body heat rolls into you in waves, the scent of his boyish cologne making you dizzy as your body leans into him unconsciously.

“So,” he breathes. He’s so close, so close that if you move just a little, your noses would brush, “since I’ve taken you out on a date, do I get to kiss you now?”

Air stills in your lungs. Your teeth find your lower lip.

“It depends,” your whisper is so soft he barely catches it, too enthralled by the way your mouth curves and moves with the words, “will you take me out again?”

“If her highness wishes,” Minho chuckles, tilting his head so that your noses brush. Electricity zaps through your body, goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, “I’ll take you wherever you want.”

Your eyes lock. There’s warmth, want. Desire swimming through his own pools of brown.

“Sounds like a promise,” you breathe, “so when will that—“

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name has a knot tightening in your stomach. Your body tenses in anticipation.

He’s gazing at you as if he’s only just seeing you. His lips are so close, you can feel his breaths on your lips. Hot against cold. He smells divine.

You’re so lost in your own daydream that you respond a few seconds late, “y-yeah?”

“Do me a favor?”

One hand cradles your cheek. You freeze.

“Hm?”

“Stop talking.”

And before you can do anything else, his mouth presses against yours.

Fireworks explode. Behind your eyelids. Through your body. Blood races and your brain goes fuzzy with want and desire as Minho’s other hand wraps around your waist to tug you in, his other hand clasping your jaw firmly as he kisses you. Once. Twice. He’s a good kisser, yet so gentle and tentative.

You’re taken by surprise for a few seconds, before you finally melt into him and kiss him back. A sigh escapes you as your hands go up to wrap around his neck, and the groan of satisfaction he lets out makes your entire nerves buzz with delight.

Tilting his head to the side to kiss you deeper, longer, you let out a gasp against his mouth as he pulls you even closer still, as if he can’t get enough of you. You haven’t realized you’re pressed to the door until your back meets the hard wood underneath and you yelp softly at the way his tongue swipes over your bottom lip to ask for entrance.

He kisses you softly, yet so firmly as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, satiated. His hand at your hip moves up, tracing the back of your spine, the side of your rib cage before brushing against the corner of your bra and making you squirm while your hands curl into his hair. You tug, causing a grumble to echo out of Minho’s chest. His tongue darts in and you part for him like melted butter so that he can kiss you and ravage you without restraint.

Everything falls away, with only Minho being your anchor. You smell him, feel him against you, and want nothing else other than the dizzying rush that makes your stomach erupt with fireflies.

Your mouths part with a pop and he takes this chance to nip at your jaw, littering kisses down your neck before suckling on a soft patch of skin. Your body reacts instantly, curving into him as your lips part in a soft, minuscule moan. That’s enough to snap him back to attention.

He gazes up at you, chest heaving and all heavy breaths. His lips are swollen and red and just so beautiful. Hair tousled like he’s just tumbled out of bed and you quickly decide that’s the look you love best on him.

The curfew bell sounds and he curses.

“Minho,” you murmur when he leans in, noses brushing to capture your lips into his once more. You sigh, eyes falling shut as he takes your next set of words away.

It’s almost as if he’s drunk on you, as if he just can’t get enough.

The thought makes you shiver. Your heart swells with emotion.

“Minho,” you murmur once more against his lips. He groans, pulls away onto to bury his face into your neck and humming, “yeah?”

“Curfew’s in two minutes.”

“I know,” he’s pressing open-mouthed kisses over your collarbone and you can’t help but whimper and cradling his head closer to you despite trying to make sense of your thoughts.

“Y—You should go,” you stutter out but it’s almost like you’re talking to yourself. He’s clearly in his own world, suckling onto your skin and leaving purple marks to claim you as his. He pulls away, groaning appreciatively at the sight you make.

“Do I really have to go?” His dark eyes — darker than you’ve ever seen them — flickers over your features. There’s a kind of hunger to them that makes you shiver.

“Yes,” you stammer out, heart almost bursting out of your chest when the boy merely tugs you close before he rests his head atop yours. He holds you, breaths you in, and your eyes close on their own accord, taking in the moment like it’s the last.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” his whisper grazes the shell of your ear and you shiver. He pulls back and there’s the kind of crooked smile that makes your heart tighten, “goodnight, Y/N.”

“Good night, Minho,” you murmur and dropping a last kiss atop your temple, you watch him walk away, raising a salute with his hand as he does so.

———

A/N: GAHHH IDK WHAT I WROTE AND I GAVE UP AT THE END I HOPE IT’S ALRIGHT BUT ANYWAY I’VE BEEN OBSSESSED WITH MINHO THESE DAYS.

[asumi2020202]

Burn them all

Other name:Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

Summary: Never once have you been to the place you were you belong. Always thinking you were an outcast. But one day you were invited. Feelings developed. Friendship made. When the war came, and they harmed one you hold dear, they realised that the same blood runs in both the father and the daughter. The act done by her, made even the gods pray for the people.

Au: Viserys I had a son before Rhaenyra. But due to him being unstable and bloodthirsty, Viserys exiled him. This son of his was Aerys II or 'The Mad King' as some may say. Due to him being exiled, his wife also left. Y/n Targaryen was born when Rhaenyra had given birth to Jacaerys. She was younger than her brothers, Viserys II, who had died while fighting some rogues and Rhaegal, who was murdered. She had an older sister but she was killed in front of her so she killed first when she was the age of seven. Y/n travelled the world, saving the slaves she found with her three dragons who were given to her by her father. She gave freedom to the slaves and poor. The world got to know her as The Khaleesi of the Great Grass sea, The Unburnt, The Mother of Dragons, The Breaker of chains.....and the Daughter of Death.

A/n: Hello! This story is based on an Au. I request you to read the Au before diving into the story or else it may not make sense. The timeline is mixed with Daenerys' because you take her place in this story. The reference picture took sometime to draw, you don't need to think of it permanently because it is only a reference.

About reader: She is younger than Aegon, Aemond and Helaena. She is loved by both sides. She has heterochromia (I love people with heterochromia). She wears an eye patch like Aemond.

Before reading:

Timeline: During Lucerys' trial to the Dance Of the Dragons.

The reader has 3 dragons. Namely- Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal.

Rhaenyra only betrothed Lucerys to Baela.

Tilted notes are translations of high valyrian.

Blood and cheese are not involved.

WARNING: mentions of rape, violence, blood.

____________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ_____________________

"Khaleesi, a raven has arrived from Kings Landing....."

"Ah, it seems he finally found me. Jorah, get everything ready, we will leave for Kinds Landing at dawn."

"At once my lady.."

_________________________________________

Music recommended: Dragonstone

Lord Vaemond stood before the king, Viserys, who looked like he was waiting for someone . After some minutes, when no one came, he spoke " Let the Petition start".

Just as Lord Vaemond was about to speak, the doors opened.

"Y/n Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of her name, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of the Mereen, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains... And the Mother of Dragons." Missandei spoke.

All eyes turned at the door as there stood Y/n Targaryen holding onto the hand of her best friend Missandei.

"Ah my grandchild, you recieved my letter. I always wished to see you in person, I only ever heard of you through the gossips of others saying a Targaryen girl conquered nations and freed slaves.

I longed to see you myself" Viserys said to whom y/n replied.

"I longed to see you as well your grace, I only ever heard of you through the lips of my brothers and sister. Even if I wished to meet you, i couldn't, as my family was exiled."

"I exiled your father and no one else. Your mother loved your father so heartily that she left with him. She was devoted to your father. But past shall be left behind my child, for you are now home."

"I understand your grace. Thank you for accepting me here and allowing me to be present in this trial." All eyes left y/n and focused on the upcoming trial.

With that King Viserys started hearing the petitions. Lord Vaemond had insulted Rhaenyra and her children in the heat of the moment.

"I think my lord it would be wise to honor the words of your brother and Princess Rhaenys as her granddaughter is to be married to Prince Lucerys Velaryon." Y/n Spoke, keeping her calm.

"And would do you think you are to advice me. She- "

"Say it" whispered Daemon.

"Her children are BASTARDS!. She is a whore and you are a bitch who can't mind their business, who know, you might turn out like your father." Vaemond screamed.

"Please I ask your not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father" said y/n.

"I.... Will have your tongue for that." As Viserys took out his dagger, Daemon easily cut Vaemond's head in and angle that the tongue hanged freely.

"He can keep his tongue" said Daemon. "Disarm him" spoke the guards.

"No need" said Daemon.

When Daemon slashed Vaemond's head, Helaena sought comfort in Alicent's body, while the brothers remained unfazed.

_________________________________________

As the trial came to an end, Helaena shyly started a conversation with y/n wanting to know about her while Rhaenyra, Lucerys and Jacaerys approached y/n.

"Indeed. None who stay with me or serve me are slaves, rather they are free have their own will and knowledge which I value." Y/n talked with Helaena finding comfort in her.

"Y/n." Spoke Rhaenyra. "Yes your grace?"

"Please do not call me your grace, you are my own flesh and blood. Just call me your aunt." " Very well then aunt Rhaenyra "

"Would mind sharing the stories of your journeys with us niece?" Said Helaena.

"Sure, but I must see my children first, come, I shall show them to you"

As the four followed y/n, Jacaerys felt uneasy at the thought of her having offsprings that are not with him as he felt infatuated with her the moment he saw her.

Near the dragon pit, they saw three dragons unable to be tamed.

"Umbās" wait. Said y/n to the men.

"Do not bring them to the dragon pit and chain them, they are but free beings like humans, let them soar in the sky with their wings."

"Yes your grace" said the men before leaving.

"Meet my children, Rhaegal" referring to the green dragon. "Viserion" the goldish brown dragon. "And Drogon". The black dragon with red highlights.

"You have three dragons?" Asked Jacaerys, relieved that the children y/n referred to are not humans.

"Yes, according to my brothers, my father gave the three dragons eggs that his dragon laid to me as I was his only daughter and the youngest. "

"Your brothers?" Asked Rhaenyra. "Yes, Viserys and Rhaegar, I named my children from them."

"Where are they now?"- Helaena.

"Dead"...... "I'm sorry for your loss" Each one replied.

"It's alright, it is in the past. I have learned to cope with it. Leaving that aside, I'm new here so I don't know the place, I need someone to show me around."

"Ah, Jace would be more than happy to show you around my niece." - Rhaenyra.

Jacaerys nodded. Grateful that his my knew his affection for the new girl.

As Jace led y/n away, Rhaenyra started a conversation with missandei.

"How did a slave girl come to advice y/n Targaryen?"- Rhaenyra asked. To which she replied "She bought me from my master and set me free."

"Free? And what if you wish to go to Naath tomorrow?"

"Then she will give me a ship and some resources to sail away."

"You truly believe that?"

"Yes. I believe in her. All of us who came with her from Essos, we believe in her. She's not out Queen because she's the daughter of some king we never knew. She's the queen we chose."

_________________________________________

King Viserys threw a feast for both his grandchild returning home and lucerys' betrothal.

"I would like to announce a thought I have come upon." Viserys spoke as all eyes went to him.

"I would like to bethroth my grandson Prince Jacaerys to my granddaughter Princess Y/n. She has been away for too long and it seems right that jace gets bethroth as his younger brother has already been."

"I agree father"- Rhaenyra said. Alicent nodded her head and smiled at Rhaenyra.

Jacaerys felt happy as Lucerys teasing poked him.

"Well you'll finally get to lay down with a woman. You do know how the act is done right?" Aegon whispered to Jace.

"Y/n?" Questioned Viserys. "Do you agree to this announcement of mine?"

"If it pleases you Grandfather then yes I agree" y/n replied as she smiled ate Viserys.

The night, for once after ages, was happy and without violence. Helaena and y/n danced together. Rhaenyra and Alicent laughed together. Viserys felt warm at the sight.

That was until Aegon usurped the throne upon king Viserys' death.

_________________________________________

The day Aegon usurped the throne, the family had been divided. Alicent knew that war was inevitable.

The blacks resided in Dragonstone along with y/n and her dragons. Both parties desperately wanted to gain more houses on their side.

Helaena joined the blacks much to the surprise of both sides. All she said was that " I do not wish to partake in this war, I joined the queen to ensure the safety of my children. I have no wish to rule."

Rhaenyra sent Jacaerys to the north as a messenger. He was to inform Lord Cregan Stark of the upcoming war and get their assistance.

Before going, Jace promised y/n that he will return safely, kissing her goodbye.

While Lucerys was sent to Storm's end to earn the favor of Lord Borros Baratheon.

_________________________________________

After both the brothers left, a day or two after Rhaenyra had gone to labor. Unfortunately visenya, Rhaenyra's child, was a stillborn with dragon scales.

As she burned on the pyre, Rhaenyra leaned on to y/n instead of her husband Daemon. That ver evening came the news that Lucerys Velaryon was killed by Aemond Targaryen and his dragon Vhagar.

The shock was too much to handle for Rhaenyra. Y/n knew what this meant. No one could survive the rage of a mother. Y/n wrote a letter to Jace, informing him of the situation.

_________________________________________

Y/n stood near the beach of Dragonstone, watching as vermax and her betrothed returned.

As Jace landed, she gave him a look of sorrow. She hugged him as he wrapped his hands around her tightly, finding comfort in her.

After sometime, she led him to Rhaenyra. She stood as she saw both the mother and the son break down in each other's arms. Rhaenyra extended and arm, asking for y/n to join, which she took without a second thought.

_________________________________________

Y/n was in the council when she noticed that her missandei was not there. The commander of the Unsullied entered the room. Giving his respects to the queen, he turned to y/n and spoke something to her.

What he had said had shocked her. It was visible on her face. Her breathing became uneven. She placed her hand on her forehead. Jace coming to her side in an instant and held her.

"What is the matter?" Jace asked.

The commander replied "Aegon kyvāna naejot execute se khalēsi ráqiros mishanje hemtūbis. Ziry vestretan bona lo ziry wishes naejot rhãenagon zyhon mēre mōrī jēda, ziry līs sagon ry dārys tegorīr ry dawn hemtūbis.

Aegon plans to execute the khaleesi's friend Missandei tomorrow. He said that if she wishes to meet her one last time, she must be at kings landing at dawn tomorrow.

This must be because of Aemond's death. y/n thought.

"I must leave at once, prepare Drogon." Y/n commanded as the commander nodded and left.

"You can't leave alone." Argued Baela.

"But I can't abandon her!"

"Let Jace go with you, if an ambush does occur, both of you will take your dragons and leave at once." Rhaenyra said, knowing full well how much it can hurt to lose someone you love.

Y/n nodded and sprinted out. She and Jacaerys approached their dragons and flew to kings landing once they had climbed on them.

_________________________________________

Y/n stood their on the ground, holding onto Jacaerys' hand as she saw Aegon, Otto, Missandei and a guard standing on a tower. Upon seeing her, Aegon had smirked at her

He asked missandei "any last words? Because now is the time."

Missandei looked away from Aegon and to y/n. After a second the guard took out his sword and angled it.

Y/n could feel her tears trickling down her face. Missandei looked at her and Said "Dracarys!". And she was beheaded.

Y/n spared Aegon one last look of hatred as she left kings landing with Jace.

_________________________________________

Upon her arrival, all could see her sorrow and anger. They knew even if there had been a chance before, there is no chance now to avoid war.

" prepare the soldiers, we will attack at once" y/n commanded to her commanders of both the dothraki and Unsullied.

She turned to Rhaenyra and said "be prepared to take back that throne, it will not be so easy with both daemon and Rhaenys along with their dragons gone."

"We will attack tomorrow which will take them by surprise as some of your army is in kings landing itself, you only need to inform them of the plan."

"Hm.. I will send a raven"

_________________________________________

As all left the room, only Jace remained with y/n. As Jace walked upto her, she broke down causing Jace to run upto her to catch her.

"She died alone, she died for me and I couldn't protect her" y/n cried in Jacaerys' chest as he held the head to his chest, shushing her and telling her everything will be okay once the war has ended.

_________________________________________

Rhaenyra, Jacaerys,Y/n, Rhaena, Baela, Cregan Stark were all dressed up for battle.

They were reaching the beach where the armies: Dothraki, Unsullied, Northerners and the rest were assembled.

As they approached , they saw a dragon falling from the sky. It had an arrow piercing it heart and neck.

Upon realisation, y/n ran to the dragon. Wailing out "no.. no no no!.... Not him as well."

Baela and Rhaena held a hand on their mouth in shock. Jacaerys could feel your sorrow as Rhaenyra held her head down. Even though Cregan Stark didn't know her well, he felt a sense of guilt upon seeing her crying face.

"He had no fault. Why did he had to die? Why my little child? Why my Viserion?" Y/n cried as she held the head of her 3rd dragon.

As if on que Rhaegal and Drogon landed as the dragon watchers brought the dragons of others with them. Drogon and Rhaegal sensed your sorrow. They laid their heads and bodies on either side of you, softly whimpering.

"I am his child aren't i?........ I am the Mad King's Daughter. The same blood flows through both of our veins."

"Y/n..." Jace softly whispered.

"Nyke jāhor keligon syt daōrun ēva nyke avenge ziry" Declared y/n.

I will not stop until I avenge them.

A sentence every human on that lives, fears.

She gently let go of the head of Viserion. She stepped in front of her soldiers. Rhaena and Baela had left on their dragons for their part of the plan.

"Jāhor ao ossēnagon issa enemies isse poja āegenka ármor?" Spoke y/n.

Will you kill my enemies in their iron Armor?

The dothraki roared as the Unsullied stomped their spears on the ground.

"Jāhor qūvy ilagon poja dōron lenton?"

Will tear down their stone houses?

They did the same movement again.

"Jāhor ao sagon rēisīr issa?"

Will You be with me?

Again the same.

"Sīr?!! Se forever??!"

This time the sound was extremely loud.

Y/n spoke those words while her tears ran freely.

Jacaerys and Cregan had left, leaving behind only Rhaenyra and y/n.

The commander of the Unsullied came to her "Khaleesi what are we to do? We await your orders." Y/n looked at her family with a look that looked as if she is dead, her eyes hollow and had rage in them.

She looked away from them and to her commander and said " burn". The commander was puzzled.

"Khaleesi?"

"Burn them all..... Burn each and everyone that rebels."

She turned to the Unsullied and declared her orders-

"Dovaogédys!"

Unsullied

"Aeksia ossēnātās!"

Slay the masters

"Menti ossēnātās!"

Slay the soldiers

"Qiloni pilos lue vale tolvie ossēnātās!"

Slay every man who holds a whip.

The soldiers marched forward , the ships sailed, their arrows prepared.

"Y/n.. you have stained your hands with blood by giving those orders." Rhaenyra gently spoke.

"My hands have been stained long ago, back when I was only seven. I don't fear anything anymore. Do know how I stained my hands ?"

_________________________________________

Flashback:

"No no no! Let her go!! Take anything you want but let her go!!" A seven year old girl screamed.

"I wonder how a stark and a Targaryen is living together?" A man asked.

"Eh, we don' care bout' that do we now mate? We've got double luck" A second mam replied.

"Letz use this one first shall we?" The first man smirked and said.

A seven year old y/n saw her stark sister whom had saved her get raped in front of her.

She scream for them to let her go desperately trying to cut the rope tying her hands together with her hidden dagger.

Both men were focused on their pleasure. The stark girl was screaming in pain when y/n finally broke free.

She took her dagger and shoved it into the 2nd man's neck causing him to hold his neck as he bled out.

The first man kicked her in the stomach as he tried to hold her. Y/n had kicked him in the crotch, he screamed in pain. As y/n got a hold of her dagger, she stabbed the man repeatedly. Her face and body covered in the blood those men. Her golden and violet eyes shone from the fire that burned in the fire place.

When she calmed down, she hurried to the stark whom she thought of as her sister. She felt the warmth of her sister slip away from her grasp as she cried and screamed whilst being covered in blood.

_________________________________________

Rhaenyra felt tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She felt sympathy for the little girl of seven who had to suffer so much pain.

"I never knew my parents, I only ever heard the rumors and stories from my brothers before they were murdered.

People say that my father killed many with wild fire before he died. I will show them what a raged Targaryen looks like."

With that y/n flew away to the battlefield with Drogon and Rhaegal.

_________________________________________

Jace felt as if he was getting suffocated . Too many men were sticking together and was getting squashed.

Suddenly roars were heard in the sky. There she was. Y/n Targaryen. With her two dragons.

"Dracarys!"

Half the men were burned to death. The dragon continued to burn the enemy soldiers.

Sunfyre had confronted Drogon. As the dragons rebelled against each other, y/n jumped from Drogon and landed on sunfyre, piercing her sword through Aegon's chest as he fell from the saddle.

She landed on the ground as Drogon took off to burn more soldiers, y/n approached Aegon who was cowering.

"Who are you exactly?!" He asked.

"The daughter of ......Death.." with that she beheaded him. As she continued slaying, she didn't even stop, going on a rampage.

_________________________________________

When the war came to an end, Jacaerys searched for his lover like a mad man. He may have been tired but he searched refusing to give up.

When he found her, he stilled. Her eye patch was gone. Behind her was Drogon and Rhaegal whose were beside her. In her arms was the head of Aegon the Usurper.

Her eyes to the full display for the world. Her golden eye shoned in the sun for the first time in forever. Her body was covered with blood, it dripped from her head. Tears were streaming down her face.

( The reference picture took a some time to draw)

Reference picture:

Jacaerys caught y/n before she fell. Her head on his chest as her vision faded.

_________________________________________

Y/n and Jacaerys had cut their hands and held them together. Cut their lips and drank from the same cup. The septa reciting the vows that they were to take. As the vows end, the two of kissed passionately infront of all.

Their wedding had been the old valyrian way. Lord Cregan gave both of them two dire wolves, one pitch black and one as white as the stars above.

Many were lost, but they must get past the memories for themselves and the future generations.

_________________________________________

10 months later from their consummation day. Y/n laid in their chambers. Panting and sweating. She tried her best to get the babe out of her.

Each moment that passes, Jacaerys felt the urge to barge in the room. One scream of agony threw him off as he opened the door and went beside his wife, supporting her from the back.

"I can't do it Jace. It's too difficult." She pleaded.

"Yes you can avy jorrāelan. I am here with you." Jacaerys replied.

My love.

"My lady you must push!" Said the midwives and maester. Y/n grunted and muffled scream escaped her as pushed with all her might.

A cry could be heard. "A boy my prince" said the maester.

A second of relieve washed over y/n before she was in pain again. "It's seems the princess is having twins, quick hurry!" Spoke a midwife.

After 5 hours of struggle, there laid two boys on each of the arms of the parents.

"My prince I must take the children to the wetnurse for their feeding" spoke a maid. "They will feed from their mother, me and my wife have decided it." Replied Jacaerys.

Y/n smiled at his words as the maid adjust her robes so both her son's could feed from her at the same time. As the maid left the room, Jacaerys placed his hand on his son who was attached to your right breast.

"What names do wish for avy jorrāelan?" Spoke y/n.

My love.

"How about you name the left one and I name the right? We both shall have our turn." Replied Jace.

Very well then what name do you suggest?- y/n.

"Daenys, to honor Daemon The Rogue Prince and Rhaenys The queen who never was." Jace spoke.

"Ah my beautiful Daenys." - y/n.

"What about you my love?" - Jacaerys.

"Rhaecerys, to honor my brother Rhaegal and your brother Lucerys." Spoke y/n .

Jace could feel tears build up. Suddenly Rhaenyra burst in with the others.

"Where are my grand babies?"- Rhaenyra.

"Here mother." Jace handed Rhaenyra the children before fixing his wife's gown because she was to tired as he referred.

"What are their names?" - Rhaenyra.

"Daenys and Rhaecerys" spoke y/n.

As Rhaenyra left , Jace put the babies in their cribs which was situated in their room upon the lady's request. He kissed her passionately, thanking her for the everything she gave him.

........She burned her enemies for her child and best friend. She burned them all. And would not hesitate to burn them again if they dare try to harm her family....

......After all.

...............Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor....

A dragon is not a slave.

-Lillian

[lanitalay]

In the cover of night, star-crossed lovers meet.

a/n: I'm back from the dead!!! this time with Covid. Enjoy this lil Cassian x autumn court princess drabble.

Pairing: Cassian x y/n (autumn court princess)

word count: 1k

warnings: mentions of scars and implied violence

“I’m not worth fighting a war over.” Your eyes cloud as the plea falls on deaf ears. 

“Yes you are.”

You brush the rogue strands that frame his face behind his ears, placing both your hands firmly on his cheeks. “No, Cassian, I’m not.” His thumbs are drawing circles on your hips, feeling the heat rise. 

“You’d do the same for me.” 

“I’d think twice about it.” Your hands were on his chest now, firm. 

“What alternative do I have?” 

Here you were, back to the same place you always ended up. Your hand was promised to a lord from the Continent. Your father found it advantageous to match his only daughter with a wealthy male across the sea. Prythian was becoming too tumultuous for his liking, the tides were turning in favor of Night and he would rather have you shipped away. Securing funding for the battles that were sure to be waged soon. He did not account for your resistance and utter refusal to marry. 

The gods gave you a kindness, the male refused to take you without consent. 

But the betrothal still stood. 

Mikaiel would visit once every few months. Beron was furious at the delay. His torments have become more violent, intent on making you succumb. 

“I-” there was no alternative. If you joined him in Velaris on your own accord or if he knocked you unconscious and dragged you there it would all end the same. “You could always find some-”

His grip on you tightened, a warning to not finish the sentiment. “There is no one for me but you.” It was supposed to come out rougher than it did. But the general was tired of making his case for your love. “We’ve been through this a million times-”

“And my point stands, Cassian. If only one person gets hurt because of this… it would be too much. The Night Court is strong, and loyal and I’d argue bloodthirsty-” Cassian opens his mouth to object but you go on “-but Autumn is not. My father, yes. Our people, no and they would be the ones who take the brunt of battle.” 

He lowers his forehead to yours. “I can’t keep meeting in secret like this, y/n.” 

“The alternative is not worth it.” His grip changes to your wrist and he lifts the long sleeve of your gown up to your elbow. “This is not worth it either, you are not saving anyone by letting him burn you piece by piece.” 

You step back and yank the sleeve back down. “It’s only until I wed and it isn’t anything I haven’t handled before.” He’s ridiculous if he thinks that you’d send your people, most of whom are farmers, to war over a few burn marks. 

“If your people saw your skin they’d riot too, you know. They’d fight for you if given the chance.”

Your eyes roll before you can stop them. “My people will never fight for me, they will follow the commands of the High Lord and general, even if it leads to no good end.” 

“And marrying a lord in the continent will save them from what exactly? You father isn’t trying to secure funds for Court Peace you know.” 

He closes the gap between you again, breath ragged. “Y/n, my love, war will come no matter what. I’d rather you be by my side when it does. Not in some palace where I’d never see you again. We have wards, powerful wards that will keep you safe-”

“It’s like you’re not listening to me!” You swat his hands away. “It matters naught to me if I am safe! It's my people, my brothers, my mother who will suffer while I lay behind wards.”

“Do you want me to kill Beron?”

“Watch what you say.”

“I’m serious, I’ll rip his throat out if that’s what it takes, I’ll raise my army against him right now if it means you’ll be happy and safe and mine.” 

“Cassian… he’s High Lord-”

“Say the word and he’s dead, y/n. I’m your sword and your shield. I’m yours entirely-” 

“Stop talking.” You run your hands through your hair… not a war but an assassination. Eris is ready, you’re sure of it. Mother would be free. The Court would be free. You’d be free. 

“I have- I’d have to talk to Eris.”

Cassian’s brows shoot up to his hairline. “You can’t tell anyone about this conversation, y/n.”

“He’s heir, if you want me to agree he must vow to not wage war against Night.”

“My love-”

You hold your hand up “that’s my condition.”

“Don’t you think he’d be warning Beron before we get the chance to-”

You cross your arms on your chest. “If you think my arms are bad you should see his back, Cassian. He won’t warn him, but he deserves the heads up.”

He sighs and rubs his eyes. Mentally arranging the pieces so this plan might work. He needs you home, desperate to see you free from the confines of the Forest House and the cold chambers of the Hewn City. 

“Fine.” 

“Fine what?” 

He cups your face “How you escape your current situation is up to you. I’ll do as you wish.” 

You soften under him. “I love you, you know that?” Half his mouth quirks to a lazy smile. 

“You make me crazy, and if it were up to me I’d demolish Prythian entirely just to kiss these lips.” 

“And?” 

He chuckles. “I love you.” 

[nrilliree]

Aemond is the stupidest of Alicent's children, who harmed the Green cause more often than he helped it.

Can anyone tell me at least ONE thing that he did well and to the benefit of his family and the Greens? Because I know a lot of things he did wrong.

1) He started (or at least sped up) the real war, because of his own stupidity and arrogance (and in the book - his little d*ck complex). He claims that he studied philosophy and history, but apparently he learned nothing from these lessons, because he decided to murder the messenger. That was Luke. A messenger who could not take part in the fight. His actions led to retaliation and the death of his nephew.

2) He caused, or at least helped, permanently cripple Sunfyre and Aegon because he thought the best solution to defeat Meleys was to crush her to the ground along with Sunfyre. Or he lost control of his dragon AGAIN. Maybe that's why the gods decided in the first place that he shouldn't have any...

3) He took over the regency only to be provoked and left the capital unprotected, so the Greens lost it.

4) Blacks were supported by more houses than Greens, so what did Aemond do after gaining the favor of Storm's End with the marriage pact? He made a bastard with the bastard Strong witch, whom he decided to marry. Because as we know, Aemond loves bastards. Especially the Strongs. And Lord Borros would certainly appreciate rejecting the promise of marrying his daughter in favor of marrying a bastard 👍 As we know, thanks to Walder, these types of insults are easily forgotten...

4) This excellent swordsman was able to kill underage messengers on their little dragons, old men surrendering a castle and... That's all. Oh no, sorry! He fought hard to gain support for the Greens, burning part of the kingdom in the Riverlands. Nothing increases your brother's support like burning "his" kingdom! It's obvious he studied politics!

Thanks to him: The Greens started the war with kinslaying. Blacks gained a reason for Blood and Cheese. Sunfyre was crushed. The Greens lost the capital because he left it unprotected from dragons. He harms their few alliances. He destroyed part of the kingdom. Because of him, Vhagar had to die.

The only good thing he did was get himself killed ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[sailor-aviator]

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eight

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Cursing, Talks of a curse, Arguing, Feelings of Betrayal, Feelings of being used, Mentions of broken hearts, Verbal abuse (kinda), Mentions of death of a parent, Talk of the supernatural, Mentions of abandonment, Suicide mention, Reveals. I think that's it, but please let me know!

Word Count: 3.2k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

Guilt was almost never rational. It was the monster that crept into your emotions, turning sorrow into pain, anger into wrath. It didn’t care for things like logic or forgiveness. It fed on the destruction it created, leaving behind ruin and sometimes even catastrophe.

You felt guilty for the disappearance of your father. Maybe if you had begged him to stay that last day, had pleaded for him to not go like your instincts told you to, he would still be around and things would be better. Your mother would never have died of a broken heart, your brother wouldn’t be suffering the effects of a curse that were not his to bear, and the ache that lay inside your chest wouldn’t be throbbing from your conversation with Captain Jake Seresin of the Hangman.

Water lapped against the rowboat as two of the men pulled and pushed the oars through the water. You sat in between Mickey and Bradley, refusing to meet the gaze of the blond who sat across from you. His green eyes bore into your profile, willing you to turn and look at him, but you stubbornly looked out at the dark waters that surrounded you, the mist not allowing you to see very far, not that there was much to be seen.

Mickey fidgeted uncomfortably next to you as his gaze darted between you and the captain, his fingers tugging on his sleeves as he chewed on his bottom lip. You could feel Bradley’s eyes on you as well, drilling a hole into the back of you head. You let out an annoyed huff, tapping your foot gently against the floor of the boat as you crossed your arms.

You wished a rogue wave would come and swallow you whole.

The shore grew closer and closer with each passing moment, and soon the men around you were hopping out into the shallow waters, still eerily dark and murky despite being so close to land. Mickey and Bradley got out on either side of you followed by Jake and Javy, leaving you the last one to exit. You stood to get out, a hand coming into your line of sight. You paused to look at it before glancing up to see Jake still looking at you, eyes shining with something you couldn’t place. You scowled at him, batting his hand away and taking one step out of the boat and into the water. The sand shifted, causing you to stumble, and Jake’s hands wrapped around you to keep you steady. He helped you onto firmer ground before you pushed him away from you with a glare.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, brushing your clothes off, “I had it.”

“Sure you did,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of you. His brow creased as he frowned, and you let out a huff, stomping over towards where Bradley and Mickey stood. His gaze lingered, but you didn’t turn look back at him, instead choosing to watch as the men dragged the boats further up onto the shore, weighing them down with nearby stones so that they wouldn’t float away once the tide came in.

It was then that you allowed yourself to look around, taking in the jungle scene around you.

Loud cries from the different birds sounded all around you, some squawking and others chirping as they hopped along the branches. You heard the chattering of other creatures as well, watching as shadows darted about above you as well as in the brush surrounding. The mist clung to your skin, and the air was surprisingly cool for what should be the tropics. Perhaps the ship had been blown farther off course than anyone had previously thought.

Rustling sounded from behind you, and you whirled around. Your hand flew to the sword that lay strapped to your side, unsheathing it a few inches as you waited for whatever was there to show itself. Your muscles tensed as more rustling sounded, the large leaves moving, and you sucked in a breath as your eyes widened, the creature revealing itself in one quick motion.

The sound of your sword unsheathing all the way and swinging in the air filled the small clearing, and Jake was met with the business end of the sharp weapon, tip stopping just shy of his chin. His own eyes widened as he stared at it, quickly darting up to meet yours. It took you a moment to process what was happening before you, and you scowled at him, lowering the sword and sheathing it once more as he let out a nervous chuckle.

“Little jumpy, huh Guppy?”

You ignored him, face still set into a scowl as you took a few steps around the clearing. A strange energy filled the air, one that set your heart hammering inside your chest and the blood in your veins zapping with energy. Your fingers twitched at your sides, everything becoming intense around you. The air started to feel almost suffocating, the noises becoming louder, the foliage becoming brighter. Your eyes darted around as an overwhelming sense of dread gripped you, your chest starting to rise and fall rapidly as the sensations grew. You took a few tentative steps around the clearing, willing the sensations to stop, to slow down. It was all so much.

“Guppy?”

A hand grabbed yours, and the steadiness of it grounded you. Your head whipped around to look at Jake, uncertainty coloring his features as he studied you. The colors faded back to normal, the sounds became quieter, and the energy swirling around you became less stifling. Your breathing returned to normal, and it was then that you realized that tears prickled at your lash line. You wiped them away quickly, clearing your throat and pulling away from the blond to inspect the far side of the clearing.

“Are you okay?” He pressed, taking a hesitant step towards you. You waved him off, schooling your features as you heard the sound of a river nearby.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. Of course you were still mad at him, who wouldn’t be after what you found out in the cabin? He had been using you for months, getting closer to you only to relieve the effects of the curse that plagued him. He had wormed his way behind your walls and into your heart, and you hated him for making you care about him. You had been played for a fool, and the very thought had you clenching your fists with rage.

“Guppy, please-”

“What do you want from me?” You snapped, whirling around to face him, nostrils flaring and eyes blazing. “What? Are you upset that you let your little secret slip out? That I’m basically just some kind of pain relief for you, and that’s the only reason you’re interested in me at all?”

A frown tugged on his lips, brow pinched in distress as he shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant at all, sweet girl,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out a hand to you. You took a step back, face guarded as you watched him. He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he regarded you.

“Listen to me,” he said firmly, eyes set in determination as he finished crossing the distance between you two. He made no move to touch you, but you sucked in a breath at the proximity. “I know you think I’ve been using you, but I haven’t. If I wanted to use you, don’t you think I would have gone farther than we ever did? I know what I’m saying may not mean much to you right now, but I swear it, Guppy. I swear on everything that I care about in this world, I was not using you.”

You studied him for a moment, mulling over his words. Perhaps he had a point. If he was using you, surely he would have done a lot more than just hold you? You pressed your lips together firmly, frowning at him.

“I’ll tell you what,” he murmured, eyes shining as they looked at you, “I won’t touch you again unless it’s to protect you or because you want me to.”

Your brow furrowed, frown growing deeper as you regarded him. He swallowed thickly, nodding more to himself than to you.

“I mean it,” he whispered, backing away just a step. “I won’t touch you unless absolutely necessary. When-if you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Before you could answer, the leaves began to move again, and both of you turned to watch as Javy stepped into the clearing. Jake stiffened next to you, a look of irritation flashing across his face before he schooled them into one of cool indifference.

“What is it, Javy?” He drawled, sounding almost bored as his quarter master glanced between the two of you, a look of knowing mixed with annoyance plastered on his own face.

“You’re going to want to check this out,” he said finally, fixing Jake with a hard look. Jake nodded, looking back at you and gesturing for you to follow as he walked after Javy back towards the beach. You moved to leave, stopping when you heard a strange noise, almost like a song. A shiver ran up your spine as you looked back, dread filling the pit in your stomach as the sound happened again, closer to the beach this time.

“Guppy, let’s go!”

You jumped at the sound of Jake’s stern voice, whirling around and following quickly after the two men.

The men were all gathered in a clearing of trees along the water, a wooden hut on stilts sat above the water, a set of steps leading onto firmer land while another set led directly into the water. You would never have known the structure was there unless you stumbled upon it. The trees hid it from view of the beach, the foliage packed so densely that you had to really push your way through it. You stumbled out onto the other side, Bradley reaching out to steady you as you tripped over a tree root.

You wondered why he never told you that your presence brought him relief like Jake said it did.

Jake inspected the structure, walking along the side of it before looking at Javy.

“Any of you been inside yet?” He asked, frowning at the surrounding men. The quarter master shook his head, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the area.

“No,” he answered. “No one has been in yet. I wanted you to be the first to see it.”

Jake nodded, turning his attention back to the group.

“Where’s Benedict and Joshua?” He frowned.

“No one’s seen them since just after we landed,” Javy replied. Jake cursed, shaking his head.

“Alright, let’s check this place out,” he muttered, already heading up the steps. Javy was close behind followed by two more men, then Mickey, then you, and finally Bradley brought up the rear.

“We’ll keep watch out here,” one of the men called out nervously. Jake glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow before shrugging.

“Suit yourself,” he drawled, waving a hand dismissively at them.

The hut was tiny, but still somehow contained item after items along the floors, the shelves, and every other surface that was available. A strange hum filled the air, not unlike what you felt in the clearing when you were with Jake. Several bottles held mysterious items suspended in liquid, and you found yourself clutching onto Bradley, fingers twitching nervously as your heartbeat picked up.

“It looks abandoned,” Mickey muttered, eyeing a spider as it crept across a dusty, old book.

“I wonder who lived here,” you whispered, worried that something might be listening. A floorboard creaked from the far side of the room, and all of you turned to see a haggard-looking woman standing in the doorway. Hands flew to swords, and the woman let out a low chuckle.

“You won’t be needing weapons here, sailors,” she purred, her voice surprisingly pleasant sounding despite her outward appearance. Her hair was matted, crawling down the length of her back in black strands. Her skin was pale like moonlight, skin pulled tight against the bones that lay underneath. Her eyes glinted dangerously in the light, like the eyes of a predator ready to strike at the first opportunity. Despite all of it though, you could see that she had once been a beautiful woman.

“Who the hell are you?” Jake snapped, voice gruff with warning as he glared at her. She flashed him a sharp smile, lips pulled back almost too far as she regarded him with predatory eyes.

“I am one who watches over this place,” she said sweetly, hands gesturing all around her. Javy took a half step forward to stand at Jake’s back.

“Where are we?” Thequarter master asked, eyes hard as they watched the woman glide around the table that occupied the center of the room.

“You find yourselves at the isle where broken hearts go to rest, the poor dears,” she smiled, dark eyes shifting to stare straight at you. You stiffened in your spot next to Bradley, shuffling to try and hide behind him as best you could. The woman’s smile grew even wider, skin stretching in a way that it shouldn’t as her eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Your heart is so heavy,” she crooned, moving towards you, and your hands latched onto the back of Bradley’s shirt as her eyes danced with glee. “You’ll make a fine addition to my brood.”

“Not happening,” Bradley hissed, reaching an arm back to push you further behind him as he puffed out his chest, eyes narrowing at the woman in warning.

“It must be so lonely,” she continued, ignoring Bradley and the way they others shifted around the room, “to know that soon it will be just you who stands in this world. Those around you have fallen, left you for either the hereafter. And soon what you have left will fall to a curse that has nothing to do with you.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, your heart lurching in your chest as the weight of her words hit you, the familiar prickle starting in your eyes as you pressed your lips firmly together.

“That’s not going to happen,” you whispered weakly.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to touch you. “It will. When it does, I will be here to comfort you along with the others.”

“Who are the others?”

Her finger stopped only centimeters from you, her head turning slowly to lock on to Jake who still glared at her. She cocked her head to the side, the smile fading from her face as her features morphed from friendly to cold and calculating.

“Were you not listening?” She rasped, eyes narrowing dangerously. “The ones who live here have all suffered broken hearts.”

“We didn’t see anyone else on the island,” one of the crewman muttered towards Jake, but the woman ignored him. The smile slowly crawled across her face once more, though this was held promise of malice rather than the half-baked attempt at comfort she had given you.

“You are also one who is familiar with disappointment and heartbreak,” she sighed, walking slowly towards the captain. “You almost remind me of my son, the poor boy that he was.”

She stopped when Jake’s jaw clenched, glee returning to her dark eyes as she continued.

“Look at you,” she cooed at him, her saccharine tone sending another wave of chills down your spine. “What would your mother think of you now? The poor, bastard son she raised in his father’s house. Working night and day to earn her place as well as her son’s, your father never once acknowledging you as his own despite his lack of an heir.”

Jake’s nostrils flared as he glared at the woman, her lips curled into a dangerous smile as she let out a low chuckle.

“Your kind, loving mother doing everything she could to protect you from the reality of your situation,” she cooed. “But then she fell ill, didn’t she? And then she passed, and there was no one left to protect the child that you were. You were cast out of the only home you had ever known at only seven years, forced to wander the streets with any scraps you could find as your meals. It wasn’t until that old captain took you under his wing that you had a place to call home again.”

Jake said nothing, but if looks could kill, you were sure the woman would have died ten times over already. The woman clucked at him, smile once again fading, lips turned downward into a disappointed frown.

“Nothing to say about your poor, dead mother, hm?” She taunted, looking mildly put out at his lack of a reaction. Her eyes lit up suddenly, the smile returning once more.

“But that wasn’t your first encounter with heartbreak, was it?” She mused. “Not only have you suffered your own, but you’ve inflicted it on another, haven’t you?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Jake spat, fists clenched at his side, fingers twitching with restraint.

“Broken hearts are my business,” she huffed, eyes slowly shifting back towards you. “Has he ever told you why he was cursed?”

“He slept with the woman that Davy Jones was in love with,” you replied uneasily, glancing at Jake. The color had drained from his face as he watched the woman contort with laughter, the sound echoing through the room as she cackled.

“Is that all he told you?” She grinned, eyes shining wildly.

“Be quiet,” Jake snapped, stepping forward with a warning on his face. Fear ensnared his features.

“Why should I?” The woman grinned. “I think the truth deserved to be spoken. Her story deserves to be told.”

“Please don’t,” Jake begged, eyes darting between you and the woman now. “Please.”

“Davy Jones is not the kind of man to curse another because his affections are spurned,” the woman continued, ignoring the captain. “No, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to curse someone with no just cause. Jones was in love with the woman, yes, but he respected her choice enough to let her run into the arms of the man she had chosen.”

“Stop,” Jake murmured quietly, leaning against the table for support as he hung his head.

“So you do feel shame after all,” the woman cackled, though no humor was laced in her tone. “You know what you did was wrong. You knew she loved you, and like the vain, prideful youth you were, you threw her to the side once you had had your fill. No regards to the love she gave you, nothing in your heart for that woman. Tell me, did you feel anything for her before Davy Jones cursed you? Or is it the curse that made you see the error of your ways?”

“Enough,” he whispered, eyes pressed tightly shut as his shoulders hunched in on himself.

“Or perhaps,” the woman hummed thoughtfully, “it was the moment she threw herself off the cliffs into the water below that changed your heart.”

A/N: Wow, what a reveal! Can't wait to hear what y'all think of that one lol Anyway, gentle reminder that I no longer do tag lists! If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog: @sailoraviator-library and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can also find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator. Until next time!

[angelstate]

Husband!Ghost x Wife!Reader.

tw: sensitive content, read tags before continuing!

Husband!Ghost is at peace when he’s by your side, you made him feel less alone in the world, like the hurt of his past goes away every time he looks into your eyes, you are a remedy for his aching heart and he couldn’t be happier for having found you after thinking for so many years he was unloveable.

you treat him like he is worth something. like he isn’t Ghost, the soldier whose job caused the death of his family, he is Simon, your husband whom you want to build a family with, he can begin to understand how you feel safe enough to wish something like that but doesn’t tell you his concerns.

he doesn’t want to bring you further into that side of him, doesn’t want to make his doubts yours and risk losing you, not wanting to make you get a bad feeling, to think of him what he thinks of himself.

Husband!Ghost believes in a brighter future, and unlimited possibilities of how life would play out for the two of you, how will you look with the passing of time, how beautiful age will look on you, he wants to see you live, wants to grow gray hair with you and laugh about how you finally time catches up to you, making you look old yet beautiful, always stunning in every way.

his young pretty little wife, the reason he wakes up and takes a breath of fresh air, filling his lungs his oxygen and no longer the smoke from cigarettes that worsened his health at a slow but real pace. and he stopped smoking for several reasons, but you are the biggest and most important one, the main one that makes him use his self-control for something more than just managing his emotions, but to have a much longer future with you.

Husband!Ghost was suicidal for most of his life, wanting nothing but the torture of being alive to end sooner than later, he craved the relief of death, the weight of his burdens to be taken off of his shoulders. He was aware of how much of an extreme measure that was, he wasn’t actively trying to kill himself, but carelessness disguised as selflessness gave him free rein to sacrifice himself, to die a hero even though he felt like he was no good at all.

he has never meant to cause pain to those he cherished though, as small as that is, he has no place in his heart for a lot of people either way, his past uses most of it, storing the ghosts of those he loved that he didn’t have the chance to bury, the little space left used to put you in it along with his teammates.

He has you on his mind though, and that is a much more complicated place to get into or leave, his consciousness being his worst enemy and best friend, keeping everything and everyone alive even if they are long gone. but you aren’t gone, thankful, he wouldn’t be able to deal with your death.

but you are alive, breathing next to him, the sweet smell of your shampoo lingering in the pillowcase and sheets, serving him as a reminder of your existence, that he hadn’t imagined you. That you had been just there, right by his side and he would most likely get you back.

Husband!Ghost is good at letting go, at not letting things get to him no matter how disturbing they are, and he is able to keep his composure at all times, breathing in and out before acting out a plan, having overthought the worst of situations late at night, wanting to protect you from the evils of the world even if that was the last thing he did.

He values your peace and your safety, he guards your steady heartbeat so it never falters, so it never stops no matter what. He is tired of death, he doesn’t want to say goodbye to another person, not you, God, please anyone but you.

Husband!Ghost had already lost Johnny, his mother, his brother, his niece, his sister in law and so many more people because the world wasn’t kind, the universe having a personal vendetta against him, dictating that he should suffer and spend the rest of his years with vengeance seething on his chest.

He doesn’t enjoy violence as much as he makes it out to be, he doesn’t enjoy the nonwashable stain of blood on his clothes or the unending heaviness on his chest, he likes the peace and quiet that pristine clothes and a clear mind can grant a person.

and he envies you sometimes, how your hands are clean from violence and how you smile at adversity with confidence that you’ll get past the hardships life gives you, you seem so content with fighting for your happiness, having to use tooth and nail to get to the simplest of milestones because life isn't kind.

Husband!Ghost doesn’t understand a lot of things in this world but doesn't dare to ask questions, not to you, not to anyone. He lives clueless in some ways, emotions not being his strongest point, but he manages, and he tries in silence for you, always for you, everything for you.

And he goes to therapy in secret, not wanting you to know, not because he thinks it makes him look weak, no. He just wants to keep you out of the darkest parts of his life, the ones that keep him up at night, the ones that make him want to kill himself because he shouldn’t have survived.

He sometimes regrets having survived.

Husband!Ghost worships the ground you walk on, remembers every little detail about you, the way your voice turns high-pitched when you’re excited, the way you flutter your eyelashes when you’re about to cry, the way you look away when you know you did something he advised you not to do alone. he has engraved every aspect of you on his head, repeating them in a loophole when he’s struggling.

God how much does he struggle without your continuous presence, it seems unfair of life to part your path constantly, tying a rope around your waist and pulling you away from him every time he is close enough to reach you. He is your husband, so why does life behave so maliciously?

Husband!Ghost loves you too much to bear the sight he has in front of him, and he knows one day the universe would pull you away from him completely, he knew he was doomed to lose you from the beginning, it was only a matter of time before his peace was interrupted by the grasp of a destiny he didn’t want to live.

but right now isn’t about putting blame on someone, on a higher being he didn’t believe in or a destiny he wasn’t sure existed or not, maybe it was all his doing and he’s just blaming a more powerful source to take away the weight on his shoulders, to make his misery easier to carry as times goes on.

he moves closer to you, his steps heavy as he dares in a second of bravery and adrenaline to step closer to you, his heart pounding on his chest in a way that makes him want to throw up but he carries on.

he kneels next to you on the bathtub, his hands reaching under the water to hold your body, limbs unresponsive to his touch. he pulls you out of the water, not caring that his clothes are getting wet, he pulls you on his lap, holding your lifeless body like it’s made of iron, his grip strong and unkind, he can’t bring himself to be kind, and normally such grip would form bruises but the lack of blood flowing through your veins doesn’t make it possible.

He doesn't remember much of that evening, the flashing blue and red colors seeping from the bathroom window reminds him of false hope, and the cold wind hitting his face and your body hidden away by a black bag reminds him of the unkindness of the world he thought often about.

Widower!Ghost looks at your face and he thinks you're pretty, you’re prettier than he remembers as he sees you dressed in all white, your hair styled in the way he remembered you had it on your wedding day, your makeup simple but adding the color on your skin he knew you had lost a long time ago.

and if it wasn’t for the casket and your chest not moving up and down he could’ve sworn you were alive. He stands next to you for a long time, not moving and nobody dares to pull him away. They knew he wouldn’t be able to bear the thought of being away from you when the lifetime he had promised you together would no longer happen.

Widower!Ghost knows you left at your own will, that you left because you couldn’t keep yourself alive any longer and a small part of him is glad you went out on your terms, but the other huge part of him is devastated.

Because he loves you with the same strength religious people love their Gods, his love for you is poetic, it is guttering, it’s a flame of fire that doesn’t stop burning, no matter the amount of water you may pour in it. And he may just be one man but he loves you with the force of a thousand.

Widower!Ghost contemplates leaving the same way you did, he contemplates the repercussions of his action, the “what if” that stumbles upon his plan as he makes it, mind concentrated and focused as he studies his choices, and he thinks about it over and over again. a cycle forming in his head as he loses the light in his eyes before he even makes the final decision.

and it seems cruel to pull you away from him, it feels like a punishable offense to take you away from him with how much he feels for you, with how much he values your existence by his side, the smell of your perfume on the pillowcase, the warmth of your skin on his.

Widower!Ghost feels as if his life had ended when yours did, and it seems only fair in his mind that he stops delaying the inevitable, that he takes the steps he felt fearful of taking when he was a teenager and had things to lose.

this time he doesn’t have anything to lose, you took everything with you when you perished in the bathtub. Ghost takes a deep breath, a mouthful of pills and a glass of water later is everything he needs.

He lays on his bed, staring at a picture of the two of you, his eyes feel heavy but he refuses to close them, not yet at least. He needs one last look at your face, the sound of your voice replaying on his mind one last time before he finally lets go.

God, you always said I love you so sweetly in his ear, he’s going to tell you he loves you too when he sees you again.

[mcx7demonbros]

No Dinner For You (Lucifer x GN!MC)

Warning. (Most of) the Brothers doesn’t care about MC/Reader (the story takes place in season 1 when nobody in HoL gives a damn about MC). Hunger. Slight mention of demon eating human. Please tell me if I miss anything :3

Not thoroughly proofread

Your first day in the Devildom was hectic. You were dragged down to Hell without your consent and without any prior warning and were forced to participate in an exchange program in order to promote peace between the three realms, the dream and desire of the Demon Prince - Diavolo. Living with you were the seven six demon brothers, who could kill you and eat you on a whim. At the end of the day, you were again dragged into another mess between the second born Mammon and the third born Leviathan, the latter of whom you had to help against the former. Needless to say, you were extremely tired, both physically and mentally.

Right after you managed to find your bedroom on your own (since you were technically abandoned by your caretaker Mammon), you threw yourself on the bed.

It’s so warm and soft. I wish my life down here would be like this bed. You said within yourself as you began to doze off.

You woke up, finding yourself still in the clothes you were in when you were dragged here.

How long have I been asleep? You yawned as you got up from the bed. You had the feeling you forgot something but couldn’t remember what it was.

Suddenly, your stomach grumbled.

Oh right, dinner. You finally remembered what the thing you forgot was. You grabbed your D.D.D and went out of your room, heading to the direction that you believed was the dining room.

However, what greeted you when you exited your room was a dark hallway.

Strange, why is the light not on? You wondered as you tried to find your way through the darkness. After 5 minutes, you reached the dining room but it was also covered in the silent darkness.

Wait, just what’s going on? Are those demons trying to scare me? You asked yourself. Let’s check the kitchen. With that thought you turned back because the kitchen was next to your room.

The kitchen was also covered in darkness. But there was a difference, the darkness didn’t cover everything completely, you could still see the light from the refrigerator. As you walked closer, you could still make out a large figure standing in front of the fridge and you could hear chewing sound.

Since you were in the Devildom, the literal Hell and the kingdom of demons, monsters and abominations of various kinds, you thought it would be better to not alert the creature and turn back.

“Oh, it’s you, MC.” Before you could make your escape, the large creature turned back and discovered you. In the darkness, you could make out the orange hair and a pair of purple eyes.

“Beelzebub?”

“Yes, it’s me.” The orange head demon nodded.

“What are you doing alone here in the darkness?” You asked.

“To devour whatever food I can find in the fridge of course. But I could ask you the same, what are you doing here, MC?”

“Well, isn’t it time for dinner? I came to the dining room but found no one there.”

“MC, uh…I think you should check your D.D.D. It’s midnight.”

What? At first, you didn’t want to believe Beelzebub but when you opened your D.D.D to check, you found his words to be true. The phone screen’s time showed 23:59, and you were just in time when it turned 00:00, officially ending your first day in the Devildom.

“So I missed my dinner.” You said as you tried to reassure within yourself that the demons must have left something for you, though even you doubted that.

“Yeah, we thought you didn’t want to eat dinner so we already ate your portion. There’s nothing left of it.”

“Oh, so is there anything left in the fridge?”

“No, nothing left in the fridge. I ate all of them.” Beelzebub answered then walked past you, exiting the kitchen, leaving you and an empty fridge.

Your stomach grumbled again. But you had nothing to satisfy your hunger. You could only hold your abdomen as you went back to your room. Looked like you would have to suffer hunger tonight. No one really cared about you here. You might even be dead for whatever reason that they probably not knowing anything until your body started to decompose and they only found out due to the smell. You wanted to cry but you manage to hold the tears back.

Don’t cry, MC. If you cry over a meal and the uncaring attitude of those demons, how are you gonna survive in Hell for one year? You shouldn’t cry because of those demons, they’re just like society, which doesn’t give a damn about you.

“May I ask what are you doing here, MC?”

You turned around and met a pair of crimson eyes. You knew it to be Lucifer, the eldest of the brothers.

Lucifer frowned when he saw your face. Even though it was dark, demons could see very well in the dark, they are creatures of the darkness after all. And what the Avatar of Pride saw were your red eyes that threatened to turn to two waterfalls at any given moment and quiver lips.

“No, it’s nothing.” You tried to dismiss the issue and walk away but the eldest already blocked your way.

“MC, it’s my duty to take care of your need while you are staying here and not letting you suffer any unjust discomfort. Tell me, what’s troubling you?”

You were unsure why but you felt attracted to the pair of crimson eyes when you looked at them. You felt that you could tell him any difficulty and it would be resolved.

“I’m hungry.” You said.

“Hungry? Didn’t you have dinner with my brothers?”

“I overslept and missed it. Your brothers decided to divide my portion among themselves. Beelzebub ate all the food in the fridge so now I have nothing to eat.”

“I’m sorry that this kind of inhospitality happened, MC. I wasn’t home at dinner and my brothers caused trouble for you. Nevertheless, it’s my fault for letting this kind of situation happened. Please let me make it up for you.”

“Ok.” You weren’t sure how the eldest was going to make it up for you but you agreed anyway, better than refusing and letting yourself suffer.

With your permission, Pride led you to his room, where he took out some high quality delicious dishes and a bottle of wine from a hidden cabinet.

“Wait, you store food in your room?”

“Well, yes. Sometimes, I need to enjoy a peaceful and quiet meal without my brothers’ interference, so I hide some dishes from Ristorante Six, a high end restaurant in Devildom, in there. I hope you will not tell my unruly brothers about this.”

“Ok. You have my word for that.”

“Very well.”

After the first bite, you found yourself eating the most delicious dishes you had ever tasted.

“These dishes are so good.” You praised as you were digging in.

“I’m glad you like Devildom food. Eat more.”

“Aren’t you going to eat? They’re yours after all.”

“No need. This is me compensating for you.”

“You should eat too. Or else I would be feel guilty of eating someone else’s food, being no different from your brothers.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

Then you assumed eating. You didn’t notice the pair of crimson eyes looking at you. The owner of those eyes didn’t care about eating, but only fixing his gaze on you.

It’s a good feeling. Lucifer said within himself and smiled. He even poured a glass of wine, whose name you later learnt to be Demonus, for you, saying the best food should be accompanied with best wine.

The next morning,

“MC, do you like our new chandelier decoration?” The eldest asked when you stepped inside the dining room for breakfast.

You looked above and found the five brothers being hung on the chandelier.

“Why am I hung up here? I have carefully disposed of all the bills. Why?”

“Lucifer, please let me down. I still need to watch that special episode of Ruri-chan.”

“I didn’t cause any trouble or prank you. This is you being prejudice against me.”

“Lucifer, being hung up will harm my skin.”

“So hungry.”

You looked at the decoration for a little while before smiling.

“It’s very peculiar. But I like it.” You said as you went to your seat and sat down.

“All of you,” Lucifer looked up and said, “Reflect on your action last evening.”

“Wait, what did we do?”

“Figure it out yourself.”

Why the others were complaining, the fourth born looked at you and frowned.

“Oi oi, I think it’s about the dinner last night.” Satan whispered to the others as they began to discuss among themselves.

It seemed that you would be receiving many apologies that same day. And it was all thanks to the Avatar of Pride.

Even if it’s out of obligation, at least he cares for my well-being.

Author’s words

I had this idea in my head some months ago before writing it. With the brothers don’t give a damn about us in early season 1, there’s high chance we will have to go hungry and have nothing to eat if we miss a meal or come to the dining room late.

Also, Lucifer having taken a liking of us since the start (evidence in Lesson 2-A normal) also inspires details in this fic.

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Was suicide really seen as noble during the French Revolution? Was there any recorded tension regarding this cultural shift with more religious or less revolutionary people/groups? Thanks!

In the book La liberté ou la mort: mourir en député 1792-1795 (2015) can be found a list of all the deputies of the National Convention that died unnatural deaths between 1792 and 1799. Of the 96 names included on it, 16 were those of suicide victims, and to these must also me added a number of botched suicide attempts as well. 

Only a single one of these suicides appears to have been driven by something outside of politics, that of the deputy Charlier, who shot himself in his apartment on February 23 1797, two years after the closing of the Convention. The rest of the suicides are all very clearly politically motivated, more specifically, deputies killing themselves just as the machinery of revolutionary justice was about to catch up to them. There’s those who killed themselves while on the run and unsheltered from the hostile authorities — the girondin Rebecqui who on May 1 1794 drowned himself in Old Port of Marseille, Pétion and Buzot who on June 24 1794 shot themselves after getting forced to leave the garret where they for the last few months had been hiding out, Maure who shot himself while in hiding on 3 June 1795 after having been implicated in the revolt of 1 Prairial, Brunel, who on May 27 shot himself after failing to quell a riot in Toulon, and Tellier, who similarily shot himself on September 17 1795 due to a revolt directed against him in the commune of Chartres. Barbaroux too attempted to shoot himself on June 18 1794 but only managed to blow his jaw off. He was instead captured and guillotined. There’s those that put an end to their days once cornered by said authorities — Lidon, who on November 2 1793 shot himself after having been discovered at his hiding place by two gendarmes (he did however first fire three shots at said gendarmes, one of whom got hit in the cheek) and Le Bas who shot himself in the night between July 27 and 28 1794 as National guardsmen stormed the Hôtel de Ville where he and his allies were hiding out (according to his wife’s memoirs, already a few days before this he had told her that he would kill them both right then and there wasn’t it for the fact they had an infant son). In an interrogation held two o’clock in the morning on July 28 1794, Augustin Robespierre too revealed that the reason he a few hours earlier had thrown himself off the cordon of the Hôtel de Ville was ”to escape from the hands of the conspirators, because, having been put under a decree of accusation, he believed his death inevitable,” and there’s of course an eternal debate on whether or not his older brother too had attemped to commit suicide at Hôtel de Ville that night or if he was shot by a guard (to a lesser extent, this debate also exists regarding Couthon). There’s those who committed suicide in prison to avoid an unfriendly tribunal — Baille who hanged himself while held captive in the hostile Toulon on September 2 1793, Condorcet who took poison and was found dead in his cell in Bourg-la-Reine on 29 March 1794 (though here there exists some debate on whether it really was suicide or if he ”just” died from exhaustion) and Rühl, who stabbed himself while in house arrest on May 29 1795. On March 17 1794, Chabot tried to take his life in his cell in the Luxembourg prison by overdosing on medicine (he reported that he shouted ”vive la république” after drinking the liquor) but survived and got guillotined. Finally, there’s those who held themselves alive for the whole trial but killed themselves as soon as they heard the pronounciation of the death sentence —  the girondin Valazé who stabbed himself to death on October 30 1793 and the so called ”martyrs of prairial” Duquesnoy, Romme, Goujon, Bourbotte (in a declaration written shortly before his death he wrote: ”Virtuous Cato, no longer will it be your example alone that teaches free men how to escape the scaffold of tyranny”), Duroy and Soubrany who did the same thing on June 17 1795 (only the first three did however succeed with their suicide, the rest were executed the very same day).

To these 24 men must also be added other revolutionaries that weren’t Convention deputies, such as Jacques Roux who on February 10 1794 stabbed himself in prison, former girondin ministers Étienne Clavière who did the same thing on December 8 1793 (learning of his death, his wife killed herself as well) and Jean Marie Roland who on November 10 1793 ran a sword through his heart while in hiding, after having been informed of his wife’s execution, Gracchus Babeuf and Augustin Darthé who attempted to stab themselves on May 27 1797 after having been condemned in the so called ”conspiracy of equals,” but survived and were executed the next day, as well as two jacobins from Lyon — Hidins who killed himself in prison before the city got ”liberated,” and Gaillard who did the same thing shortly after the liberation, after having spent several weeks in jail.

With all that said, I think you could say taking your life was considered ”noble” in a way, if it allowed you to die with greater dignity than letting the imposition of revolutionary judgement take it instead did. It was at least certainly a step up compared to before 1789, when suicide (through the Criminal Ordinance of 1670) was considered a crime which could lead to confiscation of property, opprobium cast on the victim’s family and even subjection of the courpse to various outrages, like dragging it through the street. To nuance this a bit, it is however worth recalling that this was only in theory, and that in practise, most of these penalties had ceased to be carried out already in the decades before the revolution, a period during which suicide, in the Enlightenent’s spirit of questioning everything, had also started getting discussed more and more. The word ”suicide” itself entered the French dictionary in 1734. Most of the enlightenment philosophes reflected on suicide and the ethics behind it. There’s also the widely spread The Sorrows of Young Werther that was first released in 1774. Furthermore, most revolutionaries were also steeped in the culture of Antiquity, where suicide was seen as an admirable response to political defeat, perhaps most notably those of Brutus and Cato the younger, big heroes of the revolutionaries. Over the course of the revolution, we find several patriotic artists depicting famous suicides of Antiquity — such as Socrates (whose death is considered by some to have been a sort of suicide) (1791) by David, The Death of Cato of Utica (1795) by Guillaume Guillon-Lethière, and The death of Caius Gracchus (1798) by François Topino-Lebrun. According to historian Dominique Godineau, the 18th century saw ”the inscription [of suicide] in the social landscape, at least in large cities: it has become “public,” people talk about it, it is less hidden than at the beginning of the century,” and she therefore argues that the decision to decriminalize it in the reformed penal code (it didn’t state outright that suicide was now OK, but it no longer listed it as a crime) of 1791 wasn’t particulary controversial.

Furthermore, that committing suicide was more noble than facing execution was still far from an obvious, universal truth during the revolution. In his memoirs, Brissot does for example recall that, right after the insurrection of August 10, when he and other ”girondins” discussed what to do was an act of accusation to be issued against them, Buzot argued that ”the death on the scaffold was more courageous, more worthy for a patriot, and especially more useful for the cause of liberty” than committing suicide to avoid it. The feared news of their act of accusation did however arrive before the girondins had reached a definitive conclusion on what to do, leading to some fleeing (among them Buzot, who of course ironically ended up being one of the revolutionaries that ultimately chose suicide over the scaffold) and some calmly awaiting their fate. In her memoirs, Madame Roland did her too consider going to the scaffold with her head held high to be an act of virtue — ”Should I wait for when it pleases my executioners to choose the moment of my death and to augment their triumph by the insolent clamours of the mob to which I would be exposed? Certainly!” In his very last speech to the Convention, convinced that his enemies were rounding up on him, Robespierre exclaimed he would ”drink the hemlock,” a reference to the execution of Socrates. The girondin Vergniaud is also said to have carried poison on him but chosen to have go out with his friends on the scaffold, although I’ve not yet discovered what the source for this is. It can also be noted that the number of Convention deputies who let revolutionary justice have its course with them was still considerably higher than those who attempted to put an end to their days before the sentence could be carried out.

According to Patterns and prosecution of suicide in eighteenth-century Paris (1989) by Jeffrey Merrick, there was indeed tension regarding the rising amount of suicides in the decades leading up to the revolution. Merrick cites first and foremost the printer and bookseller Siméon Prosper Hardy, who in his journal Mes loisirs ou journal des evenements tels qu'ils parviennent a ma connaissance (1764-1789),  documented a total of 259 cases of Parisian suicides. Hardy saw these deaths as an unwelcome import from the English, who for their part were led to kill themselves due to ”the dismal climate, unwholesome diet, and excessive liberty.” He also blamed the suicides on "the decline of religion and morals," caused by the philosophes, who in their ”bad books” popularized English ways of thinking and undermined traditional values. He was not alone in drawing a connection between the suicides and the new ideas. The clergy in general ”denounced the philosophes for legitimizing this unforgiveable crime against God and society, which they now associated with systematic unbelief more than the traditional diabolical temptation.” In practice, many parish priests did however still quietly bury the bodies of persons who killed themselves. The future revolutionary Louis Sébastien Mercier did on the other hand blame the government and its penchant for inflated prices and burdensome taxes for the alleged epidemic of suicides in his Tableau de Paris (1782-1783).

In La liberté ou la mort: mourir en député, 1792-1795 it is also established that there weren’t that many participants of the king that killed themselves once the wind started blowing in the wrong direction, but that is not to say they didn’t exist. As example is cited the case of a man in April 1793 shot himself on the Place de la Révolution, before having written ”I die for you and your family” on a gravure representimg the head of Louis XVI. There’s also the case of Philippe Nicolas Marie de Pâris, former king’s guard and the murderer of Michel Peletier, who, similar to Lidon, blew his brains out when the authorities had him cornered a week after the murder.

Sources:

Patterns and prosecution of suicide in eighteenth-century Paris (1989) by Jeffrey Merrick 

Pratiques du suicide à Paris pendant la Révolution française () by Dominique Godineau

La liberté ou la mort: mourir en député, 1792-1795 (2015) by Michel Biard, chapter 5, ”Mourir en Romain,” le choix de suicide.

Choosing Terror (2014) by Marisa Linton, page 276-279, section titled ”Choosing how to die.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hellsslibrary]

♡Headcanons on brothers's yandere fan clubs and their relationship to / with MC♡

(little brothers edition)

DNI: Minors.

!! Warnings: yandere(obviously), mention of murder, death, sexual themes, praise (Asmo), pet names (Satan, Asmo), semi-public/public sex, jealous, possessive reader(Asmo, Belphie), reader strong enough to carry Beel on hands (or is it an adrenaline rush, lol), Asmo in a skirt, oral sex (Satan, Beel).

Tags: @idontwantoeatspicy

Part 1.

Satan.

He is probably the demon who will be loved for his knowledge, he can answer almost every question, with a few exceptions. As well as his beautiful containment of his own sin. They find it beautiful and worthy of great respect, love, praise and worship.

But they didn't even try to contact him somehow, because... Because we're talking about Satan, what the hell if he gets mad at their persistence? It won't end well for them.

So they only watch him from afar all the time. Enjoying their beautiful man from afar.

But then you show up. Some ordinary person. And you just change it, so you also fix their relationship with Lucifer. He started to become more calm, especially around you.

After that, their surveillance worsened to the worst level. Especially if you are with him, his boyfriend, whom they managed to hate with all their heart. Every time they looked at you, they just imagined tearing you to pieces, how you would writhe, cry and scream from it all...

One day, they were following him again. This time he was feeding the kittens and playing with them while squatting in front of them. They were smiling, their eyes were watering from the sweet sight that they were witnessing right now. But then you appear and sit down next to him, catching your breath.

"Sorry, kitten, I got a little lost..." - you breathe loudly and quickly, which makes him laugh, stroking your head.

"It's okay, anyway, at least you found this place," - he starts stroking the kittens again, which makes them purr. - "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You look cute when you enjoy yourself and their fur... " - you also start stroking the kitten, which immediately climbs into your lap, putting its front paws on your stomach.

"MC, don't make it up. You look much better," - you just roll your eyes and continue stroking the kitten's fur on you.

Should I say that it caused them to have an uncontrollable desire to kill you? I think not. But they're not so reckless as to kill the Avatar of Wrath's boyfriend too easily and openly, damn it, so they made it a little harder.

They pretended for several weeks that you also have a kind of fan club (although MC already has one, but let's imagine that they don't), but they never showed up, so as not to give themselves away. So, having gained some of your trust, they finally did what it was intended for.

"Are they back again? " - the blonde asks, looking over your shoulder at some of your favorite sweets.

"Yeah. But how did they even know that I love it? I'm still wondering, " - you unwrap the wrapper, but after a few seconds it is torn out of your hands. - "Satan? "

"It's poisoned," - he begins a short story about some kind of poison that has a very strong effect on the central nervous system and it doesn't matter who eats it, even a person, even a demon or anyone else.

"Oh... Thank you, kitten. " - you kiss him on the cheek. - "What should we do about it?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll get rid of it. Wait a bit," - he quickly leaves and returns a few minutes later.

"Finished? " - he nods, sitting on your lap, or rather falling.

You laugh lightly, stroking his neck and back, which makes him moan contentedly. A surprised moan falls from your lips when you feel his lips on your neck.

"Satan..." - he just shushes, hinting to be silent.

"I saved you, so be a good boyfriend and let me take my reward..." - he frowns slightly, pulling away from your neck, but then slightly purses his lips. - "It's okay, right? "

You nod and involve him in a kiss, from which he almost purrs, wrapping his arms around your neck.

And at the same time, the members of his fan club are sitting in their makeshift club room.

"Do you think it has already worked? Did he eat it? " - One of the demons asks, impatiently snapping his fingers on the table.

"Of course he ate it! It's his favorite treat, since even all the brothers say so... " - they look at each other and get up at once, silently heading to the room where you should be.

Your dead face, the body that writhed in death throes from the poison, are already flashing in their heads. How great it will look when they finally see what they've been waiting for for so long.

And here they are at the door. One of them is about to open, but hears a loud groan. They look at each other, look into the room, but they see absolutely nothing, they only hear moans that are painfully similar to their beloved.

"M-mc, don't stop, damn..!" - he groans once more, grabbing the back of the bench.

Their eyes frantically run around the room until they hear the moan of Satan, completely covered by his hand, because he was too loud, and then a soft whimpering and rapid breathing.

"Did you like it? " - you ask, getting up from your knees and wiping the remnants of sperm from your lips.

"Ha... Are you still asking? Sure... " - he swallows and helps himself to sit down with a trembling hand, and then begins to fiddle with the belt, fastening it.

Their eyes open when he turns an irritated look at them and they run away from there like a bullet. But then he just sighs and stands up, gently kissing you on the lips as a sign of gratitude.

After that, they realized that they had to accept your existence and your relationship with him. He will always be there to protect you.

Asmodeus.

Oh gods... The biggest fan club, probably. Well, like, who doesn't admire Asmodeus himself? The Avatar of Lust himself, the former pearl of Heaven and probably the most attractive being existing in all 3 worlds.

And they are also the only ones who managed to have a relationship (sexual and for one night, of course) with his object of adoration.

Although they understood that he was not interested in them, except as a free fleshlight/dildo for one night. But they were glad anyway! They were eventually noticed and even more, they had sex.

Asmo was hardly in a serious relationship, where he did not cheat on anyone and did not run for momentary pleasure. And all the members of his fan club knew it. But, as usual, you appear, dear MC.

They're so angry. He didn't even cheat on you, judging by their surveillance. He even tried to flirt less with others so as not to make you jealous (although sometimes he did and probably intentionally). You became his partner, for whom he drowned out his own sin, damn it, although not to say that without consequences for you, but I will hope that you have excellent stamina, lol...

"He didn't show up? " - not yet. - "And now? " - no. - "And now? "

"Shut up, will you! " - some succubus shouts in a loud whisper. - "He'll show up sooner or later. After all, he and the man were talking about something yesterday. "

The other girl just sighed and sat down with the rest of the girls, guys and other personalities in the bushes.

"What exactly do you think he meant by something new? " - the same impatient girl asks.

"Can you shut up? We'll see him soon and find out! In the meantime... Shut up... Holy—..! " - the eyes of all those present immediately widen when they see something new in Asmo.

They follow him as he leisurely hurries to you to show what he meant by a little surprise for you.

Their hearts are beating fast as they glance at his figure, or rather, at his lower half. Where did he even manage to get a skirt from the RAD uniform? Unknown, and unnecessary information.

He opens the door, elegantly entering the office and they hurry there, sitting down at their desks, pretending that they have a lesson here and observing the situation.

"MC, dear! "- you turn around and your eyes immediately widen as you look at the black skirt resting on his waist.

"That's what you were talking about, right? Where did you even get this? " - you ask, feeling the skirt, realizing that it has the same material as the trousers.

"It was simple, but costly. I just asked Levi to sew this in exchange for some new Ruri-chan figurine that can't be bought online. " - he pouts a little, but then he laughs. - "But it was still worth it, wasn't it? Does it suit me? "

You mumble contentedly in response and your hands descend from the fabric of the skirt to his hips, feeling them. The members of his fan club are sitting in shock. Why are you reacting so calmly at all?! Do you see him like this so often?!

"Well, I definitely have to thank Levi for that later. " - he giggles and bends down to your sitting figure.

His already short skirt lifts up, exposing his hips completely, but not his ass, fortunately for you and unfortunately for them.

"And that's not all~," - he runs his finger over your chest and leans even closer, putting one knee between your legs and rubbing almost fleetingly. - "Be a good boy and I'll show you, okay? "

You roll your eyes and see several demons staring at you, who immediately hide behind overturned textbooks. You laugh and pull Asmo to your lap, from which he grunts in surprise, but hugs you by the neck, looking at you in surprise.

"It's more like you have to be a good boy and not shine your ass in front of anyone but me, is that clear? " - your voice drops an octave lower while you whisper it to him, which makes pleasant goosebumps run down his back.

He nods and mumbles something that others can't identify, but they see how his cheeks turn red and how you squeeze his hips after these words. And then he gently kisses you on the forehead and leaves, grabbing his bag, to his office.

After that, the members of his fan club are clearly sitting with problems between their legs and go somewhere, leaving you to laugh at them.

They were just in shock. Of course, they thought that Asmo would play with you and he, of course, would not listen to you and in general he put it on not only for you, but no. He didn't bend down or bend down in front of anyone. And when someone teased him for it or praised his appearance, he just laughed, thanked and plunged into his thoughts.

It wasn't like him at all. Every time he wanted to understand something, he went and found someone and got rid of his excitement. But now he was just sitting and, albeit impatiently, he was waiting. The avatar of Lust of all beings sat and waited for a certain moment.

They didn't want to accept it at all. So they quickly called a meeting, after lessons and after getting rid of the problem under their trousers or skirts, of course.

"We need to do something... Asmo is changing for him, it's very scary... " - sighs a girl who is almost crying.

"Don't go limp here! And don't cry! I have an idea... " - so they started the plan.

Since probably the majority of Asmodeus fans are succubi and incubi, it didn't cost anything for them to come the next day in something more open (probably short skirts and shirt with a deep, eye-catching neckline and tight trousers). Although they will still have to avoid the eyes of Lucifer or Barbatos, otherwise it's scary to think what they will do to them for such a school uniform.

And they literally did not come off Asmo, stuck to him like leeches and constantly tried to cause him some kind of reaction. Either they bent down in front of him in skirts, showing their underwear or maybe his absence. Or rubbed against it in different places. His ass, chest, cock, inner thigh, palms, face.

And it annoyed you terribly, although you understood that Asmo didn't really want it when he sent you a repentant smile, and also wrote to you during the day that you would make up for all the lost time after school.

"Do you think it worked? MC thought he was cheating on him? Or maybe Asmodeus realized that we are what he needs? " - the same girl asked.

"I don't know, they are at home now and around this time Asmo is posting photos with news, so... wait. " - she is humbled by a stern look under which she cringes, but opens devilgram and waits for the post.

Their eyes widen when they see the photo and the inscription under it. Photo of Asmo in a [too small/normal/too big] shirt that clearly doesn't belong to him. It is slightly lowered from the shoulder, and hickeys and bites are visible along his neck and on his shoulder. The signature reads: "Is that reason enough to get you off my back, you dirty demons? Of course I love you and your affection, but you make my boyfriend angry and he makes my skin so stand out🥺🥺🥺" Sorry—...

"So stand out, right?" - you kiss his skin along his hickeys when after the photo he lands on his bed to you.

"You know what I like this..." - he fleetingly kisses you on the cheek. - "And you probably care too much about the sight of me in a skirt, I'm just sure that tomorrow someone will complain about my screams, you know? "

"It's your own fault. " - he giggles, and you roll your eyes, but hug him, kissing him on the top of his head.

Well... Or after that, they realized that they absolutely could not interfere with your relationship. You're too perfect for Asmo, since he wants to change so much for you. And you love him too much to share. Either Luci or Barbie noticed their school uniform after all...

Beelzebub.

Oh my God, this sweet baby. Well, look at him and tell me why you can not love him? He's just wonderful. Handsome, kind, caring, strong, takes care of his family and of course his wonderful appetite.

Although they are still afraid of him because he is quite tall compared to the lower demons who are in love with him.

He knows about them because they put something delicious on him every day (although he will eat LITERALLY anything, so I don't think it makes sense) with a note from them.

But then they see Beel eating something they gave him again, and then some [tall/medium/low] guy and Beel just shares the food with him... What?

In the future, they will find out that you are his boyfriend, and not just some exchange student from the Human World. And jealousy awakens in them, why the hell is he sharing food with someone at all, he's a literal Avatar of Gluttony, what the fuck?

They do it a couple more times, put food on him and watch. And everything turns out to be right, if you are next to him or within his sight, then he will definitely share food with you. Well, not always, if you don't like it / allergies or something else, then of course he will eat himself.

But he's still sharing. It's very strange. They gather a meeting very quickly and start brainstorming about how to rid him of your bad influence.

"So, who has any ideas? It's all terribly strange. And I don't even know what surprises me more. "- some guy walks back and forth while several more pairs of eyes are watching him.

"How about we check if this weak idiot can handle him? " - everyone turns around at the voice. - "I mean, listen to this..."

The idea was terrible. But they didn't have a better idea. Yes, and there was a chance that you would die there on the spot, so they started the plan.

You and Bell were walking down the corridor when the gaze of one of the demonesses turns to the demon and she winks at him, he nods and prepares. And the next second, he flies at you with a sigh of surprise, landing in your hands in a wedding style. The demon quickly runs away. But the demoness is in shock... You don't even tremble, you don't even try, you easily hold him in your arms...

"What? " - she says with her lips, slightly approaching you to eavesdrop on your conversation.

"Sorry, MC, I wasn't expecting it. " - he says, rubbing the back of his head with a silly smile.

"It's okay. Are you hurt?" - He shook his head negatively. - "Well, great. Shall we go then? "

"In this position? Am I not heavy?" - you shake your head negatively, confirming that there is no or pretending.

And the demoness is in shock when you just walk down the corridor with them in your arms, as if nothing had happened.

But of course, they still don't despair! They are thinking about other ideas, which of course will be worse than the previous ones.

After a very long discussion filled with screams, fights, broken chairs, bruises, blood, a broken window and a broken handle, they came to an agreement. They'll just kill you.

So they just went to the gym that Beel goes to, and then to the men's locker room, but they didn't find him there. And as soon as they wanted to go to the hall, a groan came from the shower. But since all the showers were separate, they couldn't just go in there, so they put their ear to the door, trying to hear something other than the sound of water.

"Fuck, Beel, this is incredible, don't stop, I'm now...!" - they hear a slight cough, followed by some kind of slurping sound, and then the water is turned off.

He only hears heavy breathing and swallows, which lasted several seconds.

"Are you satisfied? " - you ask, helping him to get up from his knees.

He nods with a soft smile and a bright blush on his cheeks, looking at you [from top to bottom/bottom to top] while you lean against the glass wall of the shower.

"Then let's go out. "- you grab towels, tie your thighs (and/or breasts, if you need to) and throw one to your boyfriend.

Demons are running out of the locker room like a bullet. They look at each other with a shocked expression on their faces.

"And what should we do now? " - some guy asks, sitting on the floor and almost crying.

"Waiting for the moment when a human dies, it shouldn't be long. " - everyone looks at him with a disapproving look, but then they nod.

Yes, these are definitely the stupidest yanderes that can exist.

Belphegor.

Damn... Yandere club for yandere sounds insanely ironic, but! Still interesting. Well, in the end, who, after looking at his sleeping muzzle, will not fall in love with him?

Of course, they were very annoyed, upset and confused when he disappeared. They had a lot of assumptions. That he was sent to the Human World after all, that he switched to homeschooling because of Laziness, or that Lucifer locked him in the attic. But, to be honest, everything sounds so improbable. Yes?

And they were so glad when he finally appeared, but accompanied by a man... To whom he constantly apologized and tried to somehow make amends for something. And no matter how much they eavesdropped, they couldn't figure out why exactly.

And in the end, you did it. And after a few weeks or months, they see him lazily kissing your lips, pulling your face to him.

"What the hell?! " - one of them flashes, already assuming his demonic form, but he is immediately stopped.

"Are you going to run into them in the open like that and kill this man? Are you completely crazy or something? " - he sighs, but reincarnates back, quietly watching.

"We still need to do something about it. " - he muttered through his teeth, to which the others only nodded.

They tried their best to find out what he found in you that they didn't. But we found absolutely nothing except the difference in your worlds. So what the hell?

They are also kind, caring, smart, funny, curious and self-sacrificing for others like you (they are not). So what is their problem?

They begin to follow you even more, trying to find the reason why the Avatar of Sloth fell in love with you after all.

"Damn, how could we have lost them... It even sounds like nonsense. " - this guy is still not happy.

And, of course, by the law of meanness, they hear the moan of their beloved Belphie. They look at each other and very quietly approach the door, behind which there are moans or rather screams.

"Come on, Belphie, you can say it. " - you whisper, biting his neck, which makes him whine, shouting your name.

"I'm yours, mhm, o-only yours... Really! " - he screams, grabbing your back with his nails and digging into it, causing you to hiss.

"Well, fine, I don't know what I'll do if... " - then they heard nothing but Belphie's screams and moans.

So they decided to pretend that they study here and do not hear any sounds at all from behind the doors of the office. They put on headphones, but did not turn on the sound on them. And after 30-40 minutes, their wait paid off. The door opens and Belphegor comes out of it, straightening his shirt and yawning. His entire neck is literally covered with hickeys and bites. He looks at them with a lazy look, watching as you come in front of him and take his hand, pulling him along.

"I'm only his..." - he whispers to them, but they are ready to swear that they saw a sarcastic grin on your face.

They didn't even try, he was too clingy, he even went to the same lessons with you, justifying that he forgot his pillow, and you have a painfully comfortable shoulder/chest/laps. And also his look... They'll just wait.

[bonefall]

My birthday was a couple days ago, and I got to see my bio dad for the first time in a while. He surprised me with the fact that I have a little half-sister, whom I've never met and who was adopted about two years back. So, I wondered if any situations in BB mimic this or have a theme of "secret siblings" or "secret family"? Sorry if this is a weird ask; this blog is honestly just such a cool little place and I love the way you approach the subject matter and take the flawed misogynistic foundation of the WC books and make them so much better (JUSTICE FOR BUMBLE!!!). I've also learned a lot about healthy and unhealthy relationships here and am really glad for your deep dives on Squilf and Bramble. Thanks, Bones!

Not weird at all! I really like exploring all the little nooks and crannies of complicated familial dynamics. I think one of the untapped strengths of WC (that the writers seem to be unaware of) is how their MASSIVE cast allows them to present all sorts of unique dynamics. So I like to pick up on it, since they don't.

For secret siblings...

I'm pretty heavily leaning towards Ambermoon being adopted by Wildfur, as a surrogacy. Something feels correct about it. Especially since Icecloud is getting retooled into a post-Battle of the True Eclipse birth, and a major supporting character in AVoS-era stories as a friend of Alderheart.

Thinking about it, I should zoom in and expand this. Maybe have Icecloud, somehow, acquire forbidden knowledge that would invalidate the Queen’s Rights and he (transman) struggles with if he's going to use it to expose his parents as an excuse to help Ambermoon.

(Especially since Ambermoon and Icecloud are basically nothing alike. Amber is independent, bold, and vain. Ice is jessie pinkman big-hearted, disorganized, and deceptively meek if you look past his "chill" demeanor)

But that's wip-- there's also Breezepelt and the Three, who are going to have an actual friendship. In particular I can't unsee Breeze and Lion having a deep one. I know I commit the Cardinal Sin of borderline himbo-ifying Lionblaze in BB, but I can't help it.

Hollyleaf ended up nabbing a bunch of his most violent roles to make her villainous descent smoother narratively, so BB!Lionblaze's story ends up being more focused on Ashfur's abuse, comic relief with cats in other Clans (something that the very serious Jay and Holly have a hard time providing), and the emotional fallout of the big reveal and Bramblestar's turn on them. Breezepelt slots neatly into that.

They were friends. Lionblaze's whole life came down around the reveal, everyone looking at him and his siblings differently, like they're suddenly something terrible. Why can't we find a silver lining, Breezepelt? Why can't we call ourselves brothers if the whole world is going to do it anyway? So much is changing, but THIS doesn't have to, we will take their weapon and turn it to armor, my ally, my friend, my brother.

(and when Breezepelt is lashing out at the three because of the Dark Forest's influence, Lionblaze is there, taking the blows and trying not to give in to the impulse to send him flying with a single paw)

There's also Harespring and Kestrelflight of WindClan and Owlclaw of ShadowClan. All of them are from a single litter between Whitewater and Mudclaw. She was going to raise the three of them alone as ShadowClan cats, but when the sire was smote, Whitewater felt they were cursed.

She was able to give the oldest two to their bio-uncle, Torear, but the weather was so bad that day and the runt was so sickly and small that it surely would have killed him. I don't think Owlclaw ever finds out why his mother always treated him with suspicion, but it did mess him up horribly.

Over in BB!DOTC, Thunder Storm is getting more half-siblings earlier. Clear Sky and Falling Feather had two daughters-- Pale Sky and Tiger Sky.

I want to explore the way that the various stages of Clear Sky's life acted on his kids. How any little curiosity Thunder Storm had about the life he might have had if he wasn't abandoned is crushed by seeing kittens who weren't. How Clear's favoritism of his oldest child set the trio against each other from the start. How this idea of "love" is toxic yet intoxicating.

It feels good to be the golden child. The power it gives you over his sycophants is satisfying. To know you, and you alone, have what someone else craves. Problem is, that's conditional, and it's cruel.

What Thunder Storm learns from his time with his biodad is that Clear Sky is not his father at all. He's taught him exactly what he DOESN'T want to be. There may be similarities-- in temperament, in physical prowess (though BB!Thunder is three-legged, he's still ripped), in taste and senses. But Thunder Storm's father is Shaded Flower.

(BB!Gray Wing died in the first book, rescuing Shaded Flower from being trampled by a horse. Xey're a patron of wisdom, Shaded Moss is taking the role of fatherhood to Thunder)

His sister is Rainswept Flower. His mom is Bright Storm. If there was a bond he could have had with Tiger Sky and Pale Sky, it dies simply and cruelly on the knife they used to cut each other out.

Pale might have wanted to mend it, she was the gentler one. But she dies in the First Battle along with her mother. Tiger Sky is too stubborn to accept any help, should Thunderstar offer it, and Thunderstar isn't in the business of begging for others to like him.

Naturally I'm lowkey obsessed with them lmao. I need to make a BB!DOTC overviewww

[fuzziemutt]

On Miguel and Motivations Behind his Behaviors Towards Miles

An analysis point I haven't seen much around (<- says the man who never looks in the tag) is the idea that Miguel was trying to be the very thing Miles could blame when (in Mig's eyes) he's unable to save his father.

Miguel's main motivation for his actions across the board are in his most iconic line:

"I don’t always like what I have to do, but I know I'm going to have to be the one to do it."

This line is very defining for him because it's reflected on how Miguel shoulders the responsibilities of the Spiderverse and any unsavory actions it might have to take for whatever reason. He alone makes the decision, the action so "no one else will have to" feel that guilt*.

*which I should note. Comic book Miguel is very much noted to have severe guilt with being S-man ("No, with great responsibility, comes great guilt!") but constantly states "he has to do it because who will?". Being S-man isn't a freeing thing for him... It's an obligation, a way for him to "atone for his sins" (from the man with severe Catholic trauma).

However, his need to be the one to "make the hardline decisions" out of guilt isn't the only influencer in his actions towards Miles.

Because another important note about comic Miguel is his biggest trait in all his relationships: he is the scapegoat.

From his mother, to his father(s), to his ex-girlfriend, ex-fiance, and even his brother himself. Miguel is always a means for people to escape blame. He is always a means to place responsibility to "fix it" because only /Miguel/ can fix it* for them (wow his oldest sibling disorder is showing).

*Gabriel, his brother, is seen multiple times demanding Miguel to "fix" the situations he finds himself in such as getting his girlfriend out of jail as Miguel "owes it to him" for working with Alchemax.

--

Furthermore, Miguel is seen having /quiet/ anger responses towards how others treat him; i.e. when Dana, his then-fiance, comes to him after talking to Tyler Stone, (later known: his bio father) who is untrustworthy and whom also Dana is cheating on Mig with (this fact is unknown to Mig at the time too), Mig is notably upset yet never raises his voice, he keeps his anger to himself and quiet.

This allows others to easily project onto him- Dana then projects her own view of what Miguel must be feeling in the next panel (which- she is often severely incorrect in her assessments as stated by Miguel himself in several instances of self-reflection)

And thus, Miguel has every intention to allow himself to be the scapegoat for others as long as he lives. Especially one Miles Morales.

Because Miguel is not happy preventing Miles from saving his father, he almost cries about it, he /wants/ to comfort Miles the whole time. He doesn't like what he has to do.

But Miguel has come this far (ensuring everyone's safety) and he can't let Miles make the same mistakes he made. Because to Miguel, he tried to alter his story and tried to fight what he didn't even know what would become the canon theory.

Yes, there are circumstances, there could be exceptions*, there's a possibility everything will be alright but Miguel /does not/ know this. He didn't know about canon theory or what would happen to Gabby then. All he knows now is that he flew too close to the sun and killed billions of people, and now, he doesn't want to allow Miles to "play god" and find himself with no home. It's "better" to be safe than sorry as he'd say <- through gritted teeth and tears.

*Whether the canon theory is true or not is not really important in this reading. The theory is just meant as a metaphor for whole vs one, risk vs caution, and the suffocation of fear-

-

So Miguel does what he doesn't want the others to do. He plays the scapegoat, the guy you can put all your anger towards, the thing you can blame when it just doesn't work how you want it to, and focus all your hatred on instead of yourself.

He doesn't order any of the others to throw the containment field at Miles (they didn't even know he was going to), he doesn't order the others to talk about the canon theory (also because he's reminding himself about why he's asking a kid to let his father die and to remind everyone of Mig's own faults- takes the blame as the sole destroyer of worlds despite us knowing Gabby's dimension isn't the only one that's collapsed thus far and strictly by Miguel's hands), he even leads majority of the apprehension of Miles himself.

Hell, he even lets himself be the scapegoat for why Gwen and Peter B don't visit Miles. We don't know enough about that conversation to say how much Miguel said "no, don't see him" but he sure isn't trying to fight* any possible allegations of how that conversation went either via clarifying /what/ it was he said.

Lastly, Miguel's control issues really appear in these interactions even, in this choice. Because, Miguel is taking on the choice for others because he thinks he can control others' grief if he just "does it 'right' for them", and that's just not /possible/.

You can't choose the how and when for others, you can't "fix this" for them, you can't make sure no one ever gets hurt because you'd rather someone scream at you for stopping them or taking the choice from them, than for them to experience something that's an inherent part of life and mature and grow from it.

To receive that "just punishment" that you're always seemingly striving for because you care so deeply about everyone and everything yet can't comprehend that others might care for you as well.

You can't keep suffocating others in your own fear, Miguel.

"And all this time, /I've/ been the only one holding it all together."

Yeah, Miguel has severe issues, he's projecting onto this kid, he majorly fucked up this interaction, but I feel Miguel's insistence on placing any and /all/ blame onto himself is a very vital piece of his character that we shouldn't ignore especially in analysis.

+ Another note of Comic Miguel's character: Miguel is very prone to allowing anyone to say literally anything to him. He's called horrendous things and he /never/ denies these things. He never tries to make anyone believe otherwise because Miguel agrees with them-

-Yes, he's Gabriel's slimeball brother who's arrogant and egotistical and a jackass and impossible to work with and a terrible, no-good son. Because no one has ever said one nice thing to Miguel O'Hara. They've only praised Spider-man.

[zlebooks]

11 — after school activites

you weren’t the most religious person, but the sight in front of you is making you pray so the ground can open up and eat you.

contrarily to how you feel, a lot of people would kill for your situation; four of the campus crushes are completely swarming you and every single one of them is vying for your attention.

“so… did you guys do anything more than a kiss?”

“what the actual fuck, kaeya?”

“what was i supposed to ask?!”

you can hear the infamous brothers bickering on your left.

“how much did childe pay you?”

“ayato, play nice!”

the childhood friends from your right keep each other in check.

you consider fake fainting just so you can get out of this situation; your current situation with childe is already way too embarrassing, adding whatever this is into the mix just makes you wish you hadn’t entered this predicament in the first place.

as you were about to shut your eyes and suddenly drop on the ground to scare the boys, your knight in shining armor finally arrives.

“you’re scaring her.”

a deep voice interferes with the bickering of the four, their conversations come to halt as they look towards the direction of the interruption.

you feel your heart beating erratically against your chest, and when the older man comes close to shield you from the others’ further investigation, you pray once again hoping that he’s unable to hear.

this is your first time this close to the student council’s president, and you silently thank childe for bringing you.

the guy turns his head to you, nodding towards your way, “i’m incredibly sorry about them…” he smiles apologetically, before glaring at his friends for displaying bad manners to childe’s alleged girlfriend.

“it’s fine! don’t worry, they didn’t bother me.” you lie, smiling back shyly while gesturing at the boys.

you think that mona is finally rubbing off on you after all these years; while before you would have not hesitated to call them out for their unruly behavior, you find yourself lying through your teeth in attempt to appease zhongli.

“i like you already!” kaeya whistles, cheering.

“can’t you see that she’s lying?” his brother, diluc, snarks before muttering something along the lines of ‘that’s what you get for wearing an eyepatch’ under his breath.

“just because everyone can’t stand you doesn’t mean it goes the same for us,” kaeya bites back but diluc remains unfazed, as if this occurrence happens frequently with them.

a look of disapproval from zhongli is all it takes for them to shut their mouths, and you almost laugh at how submissive they are under your crush’s command.

“why childe?” ayato, whom you know as ayaka’s older brother, asks out of nowhere.

“huh?”

“looking at you, zhongli’s more of your type.” he continues and no one dares to move at this.

you could feel the sudden shift in the air around you. it became so much heavier, the oxygen you’re breathing feels unpleasantly still and damp— like it never went fully into your brain.

“are you using childe to get closer to him?” he points towards zhongli and you feel as if the air inside your lungs has been knocked out.

in the first few moments you have ever spent with ayato, so far you have gathered two things:

first, ayato is a major douchebag; he’s a complete gargoyle compared to his angel sister.

and second, does he know about your arrangement?

a snarl from your left comes defending you, “that’s low even for you.” and obviously tense kaeya says as ayato remains unmoved. you see thoma nudging the kamisato beside him, trying to pacify the quarrel that’s about to start.

“that’s enough.” your knight in shining armor says, his voice vibrating throughout the ground, “i called the four of you here to help around, not to bother one of our volunteers. now scram and do your jobs as student leaders.”

ayato finally backs down, shrugging as he leaves. thoma is quick to follow, although unlike the former, he mutters an apology on behalf of his friend.

kaeya takes a step closer to you to which zhongli responds with an intense gaze, but as the blue haired boy makes his intentions clear, the council president finally lets him through.

“don’t mind ayato, he’s probably joking around. besides, that’s just how he is with childe,”

“he’s doing bad as a friend then.” you respond curtly to which kaeya snorts at. “i really like you.”

the brothers take their leave, with the younger telling you he’ll see you again.

as you’re now left with zhongli, you start to notice the symptoms of nervousness all over your body. you begin to sweat buckets of water, your hands turning clammy, and your heart resumes to beating loudly against your rib cage. as much as you’d want to flee from the scene, you are unable to do so as invisible vines are holding you still.

“once again, i’m deeply sorry about them.”

“it’s fine! i… it didn’t bother me anyway, i mean.. it did kind of bother me but i didn’t take it to heart.” you manage to stammer out and great, now you look like an utter fool in front of him.

if your chances with zhongli were little before, now it’s reduced to zero.

“it doesn’t matter if you didn’t take offense in it, it doesn’t change the fact that ayato has overstepped his boundaries.” the older reasons out, he offers a polite smile— the one that you offer to a complete stranger.

he gestures at the path in front of you, telling you that he’ll take you on a stroll around the school premises to show you around.

“i take it that childe brought you here to help?”

“yeah.” you try your best not to grumble at the mention of the ginger.

“and you agreed? you must be a good person then.”

you try your best to refuse telling him the truth— i’m not a good person zhongli, the only reason why i agreed is because i was promised to see you— it was complete irony that the reason why you’re in this situation anyway was because of your lying nature.

so instead of telling him the truth like how a masochist (or just an overly honest) person would, you settled for doing what you do best:

“a good person for helping around or for going out with childe?”

cover up whatever your dilemma is with comedic relief.

you feel zhongli forcefully straighten up as he tries to hold in his laughter; he does not know if it’s appropriate to laugh at the expense of his friend.

“the former, i suppose.” zhongli answers, “but i’m happy that childe has found someone.”

you momentarily still, turning around to the older as you try to decipher what he meant.

“even if childe seems to be surrounded by people, he does still feel lonely sometimes. not even us, his friends, can draw him out in that box he made for himself.”

“i noticed how he didn’t randomly withdraw from conversations these days. we wouldn’t have known that it was because of you if childe hadn’t revealed his relationship,” zhongli adds, he offers a twinkling smile, genuinely relieved that his friend might have found someone for him.

you gulp your own saliva in order to lubricate your dry throat and not because you could feel another wave of guilt eating you whole.

whatever made childe less lonely was definitely not you.

“well, i suppose everyone feels lonely from time to time,” you decide to comment, trying to stir the topic away. the man beside you hums, “maybe.”

“do you?” you tried to resist the urge to ask but to no avail. “feel lonely, i mean.”

zhongli stays silent and you fear you might have asked him something extremely personal, but when he turns to you to respond after thinking of his answer, your worry went away.

“from time to time.”

“well, are you seeing someone?” the other’s eyebrow rises to your question so you immediately supply, “i mean, you know… so you could feel less lonely?”

“i am…” he clears his throat, “i am not seeing someone. and if i did, it wouldn’t be for the purpose to feel less lonely.”

“oh.”

the revelation surprises you more than you’d like to admit and you’re left wondering why you feel disappointed when in fact, you should be happy. you should be shaking from happiness in your position right now; you just found out that your crush for three years is readily available and is not seeing anyone else. although things are completely different now because while zhongli is single and ready to mingle, you were everything not.

in everyone’s heads, most especially zhongli’s, you’re already going out with his friend.

it’s almost funny that the reason why you’re in a fake dating situation right now ended up being a completely false rumor.

fuck.

while you would normally jump at the chance of dating zhongli, you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to do so without looking like a homie hopper. you honestly couldn’t care any less with how people would think about you, but you’re pretty sure you need to remain in zhongli’s good graces to actually date him.

plus, like childe would have said, you were already knee deep in this situation.

“besides, i find animals a much better company.” zhongli confesses and you feel your heart swell.

“you can tell a cat all your problems and it wouldn’t tell a single soul. you know their intent right off the bat; they approach you for food with no ulterior motives.”

“yeah, they can snitch on you to their cat friends though.”

zhongli chuckles.

“but honestly speaking, i find myself enjoying the company of animals more too.” you lie.

growing up, you never participated in the “are you a dog person or a cat person?” discussions because you weren’t really either— you have yet to make an attachment with one.

“i mean, i love my friends and all but sometimes you just need some peace and quiet by yourself.”

you see zhongli smile but only this time, it was genuine. as if you were now a level above than a stranger, the council president beams at you.

you feel a tug on your heart. (sure, you made him genuinely smile but did you really want it to be because of your harmless lie?)

“i’m glad you think the same.”

silence befalls between you two, and you relish at the quietness of your surroundings opposed to the ruckus earlier with his group of friends. he looks deep into your eyes like he’s trying to read your soul, trying to understand how your mind works and measuring the hours as he wonders if it’s the right time to bring up a topic.

“i volunteer at an animal shelter, i’d be happy if you could come visit sometime.”

you feel your heart soar as you realize that you were just personally invited by your crush.

“they have this old cat, she’s the kindest but she’s asleep most of the time.” zhongli’s voice reverberates through the ground, “you’d love her.”

“are you implying that she suits me well because i sit on my ass most of the time?” you jokingly accuse.

“i wouldn’t dare.”

you both pause for a moment before breaking into a fit of laughter; zhongli figures that you were refreshing, you knew when to take things seriously and when to jest. you’re a perfect match for his friend, because as much as he cherishes the ginger, he does think that childe needs a little bit of extra help in reading the room.

“what are you two laughing about?”

you hear a familiar voice interrupting your moment with zhongli.

“oh childe, you’re here.” you were the first to greet your ‘boyfriend’ and zhongli immediately follows suit. the redhead takes a step closer before putting an arm around your shoulders, pecking the top of your head as a greeting.

“should we call it a day and walk home?”

“ask zhongli.”

“ah, of course you two may go. childe is done with his duties anyway, and you’ve been a great help earlier today.”

“that was nothing! i felt like i did nothing much anyway.”

the ginger bumps his hips towards yours with such force that it almost ended with you on the ground. you sneakily pinch his side to which he almost yelps, “aH— you’re too humble, babe.”

“your extra hands were very much appreciated.” zhongli agrees.

“alright, mr. president. i’ll walk this girl home if you don’t mind.”

with zhongli quick to dismiss the pair of you, you were now on your merry way to the school’s gates to exit the premises with childe.

with childe’s arm draped around your shoulders.

“you have bad timing.” you angrily say.

“huh?”

“we were having a moment and like a huge cockblock you are, you interrupted us.”

childe snorts to your direction before retracting his arm from you. “you sure you weren’t imagining things?”

“fuck you.”

“gladly.”

“ew!”

“that’s not what others would say.”

“you’re such a child!” you exclaim before marching forward in an insane pace. you put at least a foot of distance between the both of you and you hear him yell,

“hence the nickname, sweetheart!”

god, were you really supposed to walk home all the way with him?

sitting down at one of the stools in the convenience store, you munch on the cookies and cream ice cream childe bought for you as you watch people pass by. you turn to him as he opens his mint chocolate flavored one.

“i still don’t understand why you like that.” you refer to the cone he’s holding.

“you wouldn’t because your taste buds aren’t fully developed.”

“you’re calling cookies and cream childish?”

“yeah.”

you dramatically gasp, slapping your free hand over your mouth as you look like as if childe had insulted your entire clan.

“you named yourself childe and you think my ice cream flavor is the childish one?”

the ginger snorts before placing a hand on his chest as if hurt, “i’m offended that you think my name is immature.”

“it literally is.” you reply accompanied with a roll of your eyes.

quitness envelopes the both of you and the next minute is spent with eating your ice creams in silence.

“you sure you don’t want to try mint choc?” he teases.

you don’t reply, only scoffing at the idea of you biting into the childe-saliva infested ice cream.

“why did you choose childe?”

“hm?”

“out of all the names you could have picked, why childe?” you ask.

“ajax is a warrior who dies in the end of his own tale; i’d rather be called childe that be reminded by my impending death.”

the both of you halt from further eating the sweet in your hands.

“well that’s just stupid.”

at this, childe snorts.

“of course you’d find it stupid.”

“was that supposed to mean something?”

“nope, it’s nothing.”

the both of you resume at licking your ice creams.

“is that all? i’m sure there’s a deeper meaning to it.”

your fake boyfriend grunts, as if slightly annoyed with the barrage of questions you keep on asking.

“i’ll tell you the actual reason for another time.”

“okay.”

“what about you? is there more to it for your name?”

it was his turn to ask and you try your best not to snark at him.

“it’s just y/n.”

childe raises an eyebrow, attempting to prod you for more information.

“that’s just it, i swear.” you tell him truthfully, laughing at how simple your answer is. “i bet i’m not even the most interesting person you know.”

childe scoffs, “give yourself some credit,” he says as he flicks your forehead playfully. “you were the first one with enough guts to kiss me without consent.”

you hit his arm with your available hand, your eyebrows furrowing. “when are you going to drop that?”

“never.”

you hit him in the arm again.

“okay, o-kay! i’ll s-stop!” he says in between laughter, before pointing at your face as he mutters ‘you should see your face’.

“we can give your name meaning, if you want.” the ginger says after calming himself down. this makes you raise an eyebrow at him; awaiting for whatever unseriousness that might come out of his mouth.

“y/n means someone who is bad at chemistry.”

everything stills and childe feels like he should run if he still wants to live.

he sees you raise your fist— a warning he supposes, that’s why he immediately tries to cover it up.

“—bad at chemistry at first but ends up being an expert because they’re hardworking?”

you scoff at how badly his attempt to make ammends with you went.

“whatever.”

“i’m being serious with giving your name a meaning though.” the male beside you tries once more. he smiles, genuinely smiles. for the first time, you can see how he looks like when he’s happy, instead of the usual playful and chaotic demeanor he has.

“what about let’s make memories and associate your name with it?”

“that’s corny.”

childe grins, “and stupid?”

“and stupid.”

childe breaks out into a laughter and you can’t help but to crack a smile.

“but yeah let’s do it.”

love equation [ prev / masterlist / next ]

embarrassed by your three year (and counting) long crush on zhongli, you suddenly claim you have a boyfriend. there enters childe, your crush's best friend and the one who'll either help with your lie or report you to the police for harassment. or in which caught up in a lie, you had no choice but to kiss the closest person next to you.

FEATURING: childe x she/her!reader, a little bit of zhongli x reader, other genshin impact characters! (they are too many to list)

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fun facts ★

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