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#piers pronouns
piers-official · 10 months
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you use he/it pronouns too? (know she's 'n there for you, but thats not it for me)
very swag, they're my pronouns though, 'm taking them back.
Consider your pronouns; stolen
M'PRONOUNS.
Guess I can' be the She/it anymore, m'jus She 😔
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just-a-mod · 11 months
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Ser, I hope you can feel how much i H a t E Y O U
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saucerfulofsins · 7 months
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Also why do people go by they/them online. I mean why not go full out and request/demand it's written þey/þem?
It's cooler, weirder, and it could be used as distinguishing feature from the plural. Also my ulterior motive is to reintroduce the thorn/þ, what a useful and pretty letter!
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polygender bi, it/its, and transomnine piers icons
like/reblog if you use and credit me
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idkwhatever580 · 5 months
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I would die happy
Pairings: teen!Natasha Romanoff x teen!reader
Song Inspiration: very loosely based off of the songs Casual by Chappell Roan and Ashley by Zolita (They’re good to listen to before hand but not necessary. I’ll link them)
Prompt: what happens when “good girl” y/n breaks it off with “bad girl” Natasha and Natasha realizes she needs y/n more than she thought?
Warnings:mentions of sex, angst then fluff, mentions of death? (From the song).
Pronouns: unspecified (one use of ma’am but in a silly way)
A/N: No this is not an actual songfic. I just took inspiration from the songs so there might be a line or five in the mix. I have had these songs stuck in my head the past few days and I kept imagining like a teen romance coming out of it? Idk. Hopefully I write this better than the last one 😭
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Y/n’s pov
I am in my room doing my homework when I hear tapping on my window. I look up from my neat desk to see Natasha.
My instinct is to smile and open the window up but I freeze.
Natasha Romanoff.
Bad girl. She vandalizes things. She doesn’t participate. And she dresses like a fuck boy.
Some call her a player. Some call her a cheater.
Whatever they think there’s one thing everyone can agree on. Natasha romanoff does not do relationships.
She’s usually the one night stand type of girl but then she met me. And that’s when everyone says she went soft. She never fucked another girl other than me.
But that’s all. For half a year. All she’s ever done is sex, aftercare, leave, repeat.
Another set of tapping falls upon my ears and I zone back in. I open the window and whisper
“What are you doing here?”
Natasha crawls in and says
“Wanted to see you. You alright there? You zoned out for a sec”
I nodded my head and my eyes fall upon her necklace. It’s silver with a little arrow.
I hate myself when I think of it. I nod my head and say
“Yeah. Totally fine. Just doing some homework”
I sit back down at my desk even though I know why Natasha is here.
After a whole 6 months of this it’s hard to not know what her routine is. But I don’t want it anymore.
Obviously I caught feelings. Who wouldn’t catch feelings for her? I just thought that I would get over it. I thought that having some of her is better than none of her at all right?
Wrong.
I cry so much now. All I want is for her to love me back. But that’s not reality. She doesn’t do love. She doesn’t do relationships. And I can’t do it anymore.
Natasha walks up behind me and rubs her hands down my arms and starts kissing my neck. My body lets her do it but then I think about it and take her hands off me.
“Not tonight. I have to study”
She doesn’t let up. Because usually I like playing hard to get. So she doesn’t know. And that’s okay. It’s my fault she doesn’t know.
“I can help you relax baby”
I roll my eyes at the pet name and say
“Natasha. Can we talk?”
She stands up straighter at my use of her full name and says
“Yeah. Sure”
I can tell she is a bit surprised at me but she nods her head nevertheless.
She sits down at the foot of my bed and I roll my chair over to her.
I sigh and look at the ground.
“I don’t know how to say this, but I can’t do this anymore Natasha”
She furrows her eyebrows and says
“You can’t do what?”
“This Natasha,”
I point at her and myself
“I hate myself for letting this drag on so long because I know you. I know you don’t want a relationship. But I lo- I like you Natasha. And I want you. All to myself. I want labels and I want to go to the pier together and eat popsicles and I want you to tell your friends and I want a future with you.”
I can tell I’m overwhelming her with this information but I keep going
“But you don’t want that. And that’s okay! I understand that some things aren’t meant to last. But I can’t keep hurting myself for some fun okay? I need to heal and move on. And you can go find another toy to play with and that’s okay. I just can’t be the one you go to anymore. It’s not what I want. And our ideals clearly do not align. I thought maybe I could do it and be able to handle all of this but I can’t.”
I tear up a bit
“I can’t be casual with you. I want feelings attached and I want you to myself but you don’t want me like that. So I need to cut it off.”
I finally finish my rant and I look down feeling embarrassed.
“I’m sorry”
I apologize and she shakes her head
“Don’t apologize. I get it.”
We sit there for a minute of awkward silence and she sighs and says
“I guess I should go then”
I nod my head and sniffle a bit. She lingers like she has something to say but she ultimately leaves and on her way out of my window she says
“I’ll see you at school I guess”
I nod my head.
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It’s been a week since I cut it off with Natasha and I look rough. My friends are worried about me but I tell them I’m fine.
Even some of my teachers have asked if I’m okay. Of course I lie to them. But it’s nice to know someone cares.
I have avoided Natasha at all costs. But I still find myself thinking about her.
Her arrow necklace. God I hate myself when I think of it. Because then I think of her. And then I start crying. Or I just shut down.
Yes. I may or may not have almost said I love you the night I cut it off with her. But I didn’t want her to have to hold all of my baggage. It’s not fair. She doesn’t like me like that. And she doesn’t deserve to feel guilty for what I feel.
My friend Emerald walks up to me during a free period and she says
“Hey did you see Natasha today?”
I shake my head and say
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
She shakes her head and says
“Well you’re gonna have to listen. She is the talk of the school right now so either you hear it from me or someone else.”
I roll my eyes and say
“What Em? Does she have a new toy hanging on her shoulder?”
Clearly I’m a little ticked off about having to hear about her.
But em shakes her head and I look at her and wait for her to continue
“She’s wearing your hoodie”
I look at her and say
“My hoodie? She doesn’t have any of my clothes, except for that bra that I’ll probably never get back”
She takes out her phone and shows me my favorite hoodie. It’s the pink one that I got from the thrift store. They all knew it was mine because it has em’s name on the sleeve. And a duck on the front.
I remember now. I forgot it at her house one time after she fucked me in her beach house. That was the day everyone found out and started talking about how I’m just a girl she fucked on her couch.
I cried so much that I forgot about it. And of course she just came over to make me forget about all the things people said.
I look at her and say
“Why would she ever wear that?”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me and says
“She obviously likes you y/n”
I roll my eyes and say
“She doesn’t like me Em. From the beginning everyone has known she doesn’t do crushes.”
Em shrugs her shoulders and says
“People can change.”
I roll my eyes and get a little frustrated and say
“Leave it Em. I don’t want to talk about it.”
She puts her hands up in surrender and leaves it at that.
The rest of the day goes by slowly. But I catch a glimpse of Natasha at the end of the day. She is wearing my hoodie. She looks good in it. But she shouldn’t be wearing that. I’m not hers. And she’s not mine.
I quickly leave so she doesn’t see me. Even though we definitely made eye contact. But it’s whatever.
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It’s about 8 pm now and I’m studying again. This final is about to make or break me so I can’t let myself loosen the reigns even though it’s only a midterm.
I have my headphones on and I’m listening to classical because it apparently helps people study. I’m honestly doing anything to help me.
A hand taps my shoulder and I jump up quickly but thankfully I don’t yell.
I turn around quickly and see Natasha standing there.
I immediately get frustrated and say
“What are you doing here?”
I take a second to actually look at her and she looks like shit. Honestly she is looking at me like a lost puppy. Like she hasn’t been in my room for six months. Her hair is a mess, shes still in my hoodie, and the bags under her eyes indicate that she hasn’t been sleeping well. I almost feel bad for her. Then I remember I can’t let my feelings get in the way. She says
“I um… I wanted to talk to you”
I sigh and say
“Well what is it? I’m listening?”
I feel bad for being so short with her but I can’t do it any other way or else I’ll break down.
She kind of stands there for a second and I sit down on my bed and pat it. I might as well be nice to her. She’s not a horrible person anyways.
She shakes her head slightly and keeps standing. I look at her and say
“You wanted to talk?”
She nods her head and says
“I don’t know how to say this but… I- I need you y/n”
I have never seen Natasha cry once. But she immediately breaks down in front of me
“I can’t do this without you. I need you so bad I just want all of you. I thought that if I convinced myself that it was for the better, that if I said I wanted this it would come true. But it’s not true I- I love you and I know you are probably over me by now and that’s okay I just need to tell you that I want you and only you. I know I’ve never done anything like this but I want to I want to change. I want to be good. For you. I want to take you on dates and tell everyone about you. And I don’t think I can do this without you because life is like a bad dream without you and I didn’t even realize what I had until I lost it!”
She starts crying. I start tearing up at her confession and I say
“Stop it. Stop it Natasha.”
It’s short and snippy because I’m about to cry.
“You can’t just say those things and pull at my heart just to get into my pants okay? I’m sorry that nobody wanted to get with you but I cannot just go crawling back to you if you just lie to me to get me back”
She looks at me and she shakes her head aggressively and says
“No. No I don’t. I don’t want to get into your pants I actually love you. I didn’t even know it because I’ve never felt love before y/n. Please you have to understand me I love you. I love you so much and I want a future with you. I was just scared but I’m not scared anymore I want you!”
She drops to her knees and tries to calm down a bit and says
“I understand if you don’t want me but I want you. I want to be your girlfriend. I want to introduce you to my friends and family. And- and I know my past doesn’t help anything. My reputation is probably your biggest fear but I can’t imagine my life without it. I’ve never been the sappy type but I’m telling the truth. If loving you kills me then I will die happy y/n”
I look at her from my bed and I see the genuine look in her eyes. I tear up again and the I get down from my bed and she looks down. It’s like she’s worshipping me. Like if she doesn’t she might lose me.
I envelope her in a hug and she starts crying into me. And I say
“Tell me that you love me and you won’t leave me.”
She looks at me with tears running down her face and her nose is sniffly and she says with such confdence
“I love you y/n. Nothing can change that. I won’t ever leave you. Not even if I could. I want to be yours”
I smile at her as she waits for me to answer and I grab her head and lean into her. I kiss her.
This kiss is different than any other kiss I’ve ever shared with her. It’s soft and tender. And full of love. I don’t even care that her tears and boogers are getting on me.
I don’t care. I just love her. I pull away and giggle and she kind of sits in criss cross. And I say
“Natasha. I love you too. I’ve loved you for a while now. I was just scared to say it.”
She sends me a dopey smile. I’ve never seen her smile at me like that. I like it. So I boop her nose and say
“Cute.”
She scrunches up her nose and says
“I’m everything but cute right now.”
I shake my head and say
“You’re always cute.”
I kiss her again after she wipes her face off and it’s sweet. I pull her into my lap and she says
“I don’t like this.”
Normally I guess she would be more comfortable with me on her lap. But I don’t care.
“I guess you’re just gonna have to suck it up.”
We sit on my floor for a bit and I say
“Oh shit! It’s late.”
I check the time and say
“It’s nine o’clock already! You have to get home baby”
She stops at the nickname and says
“Wait. So… are we?”
I giggle and say
“After all of that? There’s no way we’re not dating. So yes. I’m gonna call you baby. But you need to go home and I need sleep”
She smiles and says
“Can I have a hug before I go?”
I nod my head and pull her in for a long hug.
I kiss her head and then her nose and then her lips and say
“I love you. Now go. I’ll pick you up for school tomorrow?”
She usually walks to school and I drive but I want to pick her up now. She nods her head and I stop her before she leaves my window and I say
“And I want my hoodie back.”
She laughs softly and says
“No way. It’s mine now.”
Then I pull her back in to me and distract her with a kiss. I say
“Well then. I guess this is mine now”
I swiftly pull the hoodie she has on right now off of her and she pouts and says
“Aw man. That’s a good hoodie.”
I smile and say
“Only the best for me right?”
She smiles finally and nods her head and I say
“Text me when you get home okay?”
She nods her head and says
“Yes ma’am”
I giggle and shake my head. I watch as she walks off into the night and I hop onto my bed and cuddle my stuffed animal with a bright smile on my face.
All of that heartache must have been worth it.
She was right. If loving her kills me, then I would die happy.
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A/N: I actually kind of like how this one turned out. I know I pulled from the songs a lot but at least it was built into the words and not like a normal songfic lol. Because I’ve heard that many people do not like songfics :)
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mxtxfanatic · 26 days
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While flipping through mdzs to verify some stray thoughts of mine, I happened to fall into a translation discrepancy that I feel really, really emphasizes how important it is to have a proper grasp on the language you are translating before translating for a public audience.
Now before we get too deep into this, I want to reiterate that I am someone who does not understand Mandarin in any form but has been reading translations (both by humans and machines) for a few years now. However, because I have been reading translations that tend to follow the Mandarin more closely in grammar and because I haven't shied away from reading machine-made or bad human translations, I have noticed some places where mistranslations from Mandarin to English are common: pronouns, verb-subject matching, negatives, prepositions, and conjunctions. For this post, we will be focusing on the latter two.
In the lead-up to the Wen invasion of Lotus Pier, we are given a scene where Madam Yu whips Wei Wuxian, and in this scene, we are given a glimpse as to Madam Yu's average punishments towards the young ward.
While Madam Yu always pelted him with hostile words, she’d never really hit him hard before—two or three lashes at most, or being made to kneel or confined indoors, and it never took Jiang Fengmian long to release him from that.
—Vol. 3, Chapt. 12: Sandu: The Three Poisons, 7seas
In the past, although Madam Yu had always come at him with harsh words, she had never truly been cruel to him. The most that he’d been through were two or three strikes and being grounded. He’d also be let out by Jiang FengMian soon later.
—Chapt. 57: Poisons, exr
Reading these back-to-back, it should be very clear that though the same section is being translated from the same exact source, these translations do not say the same thing. The official stresses that Madam Yu had never hit Wei Wuxian "that hard" before, as well as saying that his punishments were a few lashes OR being made to kneel OR being confined, three separate punishments never taken together according to this diction. The exr translation, however, states that Madam Yu had "never truly been cruel to him" (emphasis mine) and that him being whipped was in addition to being confined. The emphasis on the strength of her lashings is absent, but an emphasis on the intent behind her actions—that she never meant to be honestly cruel to her ward—is established in its stead. (While this section as translated by exr does not mention kneeling, later scenes reflecting on Wei Wuxian's childhood in Lotus Pier do.)
Both of these translations... are wrong.
If we give exr the benefit of the doubt by virtue of being the original completed English translation of mdzs, then the official 7seas release should automatically raise red flags for the ways it seems to directly contradict the narrative that has existed for a few years before the novel was licensed. It doesn't help that the official has been riddled with many mistranslations and omissions from the very first volume, lowering any credibility it would otherwise have to stand on. But if we were to examine the rest of the exr translation, then the emphasis on Madam Yu's intent also rings false given the fact that we are told over and over again in this same translation that 1) Madam Yu is, in fact, unnecessarily, illogically, and erratically mean-spirited and cruel, and 2) Wei Wuxian knows this even at this time in his life (shoutout to the Lotus Pod Seeds extra) and understands her actions as targeted cruelty. What does the actual text say, then?
Although Madam Yu always spoke ill of him before, her hand had never been this viciously cruel. At most, she whipped him two or three times and ordered him to kneel down and be confined to his room, and he would be released by Jiang Fengmian sometime later.
—@jiangwanyinscatmom (emphasis mine)
Madam Yu has never been "as cruel" as in that moment when whipping Wei Wuxian, because normally she only whips him 2-3 times. She would whip him a few times and send him to the ancestral hall to kneel and be in confinement, which matches up to the memories that Wei Wuxian reflects on in other parts of the novel. This translation gets rid of the character inconsistencies that the other two translations create. So how did we get here? Remember how I pointed out those common Mandarin-to-English translation mistakes? Well, both the exr and 7seas translations fall into the trap of confusing conjunctions and prepositions. That's how we get a list of punishments rather than an order of events for a singular punishment type. That's how we get "not truly cruel" instead of "not as cruel." That's how we get these sections contradicting what we know about Madam Yu's personality and behavior from the rest of the novel through those two translations. Unfortunately, both translation teams just happened to flub in the same area in slightly different ways, and while I'm willing to give a multi-lingual grade-school student translating in their spare time the benefit of the doubt, a paid translator with a translation team hired by a professional publishing house should have better quality control than a spare-time hobbyist.
Also, just in case anyone wants more proof on what mxtx meant for us to take away about Madam Yu's treatment of Wei Wuxian from this scene, it was also apparently so important to mxtx for readers to know that Madam Yu was truly cruel to Wei Wuxian during his childhood that the act of her routinely whipping him whenever he was in her presence was something that was added into the revised mdzs. It was not in the original unedited version of the novel.
In the past, although Lady Yu always insulted or patronized him, she never laid a hand on him. At worst, she’d make him kneel for prolonged periods of time, but he’d always get bailed out by Jiang FengMian after a while.
—Chapt. 57. Act 12: Sandu/Three Poisons, Part 2, qinghe-nie
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spookyspecterino · 3 months
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I saw you opened requests fire Eric x reader from AQPDO. How about they meet in the boat to the island and he likes her she likes him but she doesn’t want to give in bc she’s scared that they can die anytime so she avoids him. In the end, it’s Frodo who brings them together.
Try to Live, For Me.
Spoilers for A Quiet Place: Day one
Eric x Reader (no pronouns/descriptions, no use of y/n)
This also took me a little while. I went overboard again because I really like introspective writing. More to come!
For everyone who sent me a request, I see them. I promise I'm not ignoring you, I'm just a slow writer (and a bit of a perfectionist).
cw: light angst (with happy ending), mention of death, crying, some language.
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“Come on!”
“Jump!”
“You’re almost there!”
People stand at the boat's edge in a large cluster, waving, leaning over the railing, and calling to someone on the shore. You start paying attention as the boat engines shut down, sputtering out, letting the sound of the water and the wind surround you. Getting up is slow, the muscles in your legs are tired and need that rest time, they groan and stretch as you move too fast; your body’s weariness fights with the spike of adrenaline that spurs you to life.
If the boat engines had been on, you wouldn’t have heard the splash. People surged forward trying to get a better look, through the tightly pressed bodies pieces of the shore are visible—the monsters crowd the pier, shrieking and clawing. Whoever jumped into the water just barely made it by the looks of things.
The person is pulled on board, their yellow cardigan sticks out among the grey, dull tones of everyone else’s clothes. The crowd parts quickly as a streak of white and black shoots past them…and right into your arms—you barely register the thing until you feel it clawing up your pants.
It’s a cat.
Bright green eyes look up at you curiously, the fur around its face is wet and clumped together. The little thing readjusts in your arms, getting more comfortable, you almost want to protest but it’s too cute and warm as it blinks up at you slowly.
The crowd is still parted, staring curiously between the cat and the man. His eyes, big brown and teary, catch yours, they dart from the cat to you a few times. He wants his cat back.
As you hold the cat close and step forward, the disappointment stings. The wet little fuzzball purrs in your arms. It’s the first comfort you’ve had since everything went to shit and you’re not ready to give that up yet.
The man reaches out and you gingerly pass him his cat. He hugs it close, burying his face in its black and white fur. He looks up at you again as you hover there, unsure what to do or say—you want to say something, smile, and sit and talk to this cute guy, but the engines start up again. Your focus shifts and the curious expression on your face is replaced with a scowl.
“Good cat.” You murmur before turning away and taking your spot in the back.
. . .
Time passes slowly as the sound of the boat engines lulls you to sleep, grey clouds blot out the sky, and any conversation on the boat deck can’t be heard above the sound of the marching engine and the wind as it whips around you. The bits of sleep you manage to snag are fitful and short, filled with screams and shrieks, long limbs, sharp teeth, and blood.
You jerk awake, reaching out blindly to fleeting shadows. It feels like you were talking to someone, just the faint impression that you were deep in a conversation when consciousness ripped it away.
Rubbing a hand over your face, you take a few deep breaths, then you catch the cat watching you. It’s bundled up in the yellow cardigan with the man’s arms around it. Something in those green eyes catches you and holds you there. A staring contest with a cat, how odd.
Eventually, the man’s eyes open and he sees you staring. You quickly look away, trying to act disinterested. From your peripheral vision, you can see he’s still watching you. Something foreign—a long-forgotten feeling—in your stomach flutters.
“Excuse me,” he starts hesitantly, “Do you know where we’re going?”
He’s English? The thought is pushed to the very back of your mind instantly.
The shore is to the boat’s port side, which means it’s following the coast. “Probably to one of the islands up the Sound, near Connecticut.”
He nods, looking a little lost, and shifts in place; the cat takes advantage of this and slips from his arms, it pads over to you, ears perked, its tail straight up in the air. It sniffs you once, deems you worthy, and climbs into your lap. Tiny white paws knead your pants a few times before they settle and lay down.
The man smiles. “He likes you.”
You gingerly pet the cat’s head, your hardened attitude cracks ever so slightly as it leans into your touch. “This is probably the friendliest cat I’ve ever met.”
“His name is Frodo, he’s very unique.”
As you keep petting Frodo, curiosity gets the better of you. “Where are you from?”
“Kent—England.”
“That’s the south-east side, right? Were you closer to London or more towards the coast?”
The man perks up a little. “Closer to London. Have you been?”
“No, I just…I like looking at maps.” What a weird thing to say. Why are you even saying this? “I’ve always wanted to travel to Europe and the UK though.”
“It’s beautiful there.” He sounds far off now.
You position yourself to face him better and the cat stretches out. Petting along its back, a loud purring erupts from its entire body. “What were you doing in New York?”
“Going to Law School.”
“Damn, ok Mr. Fancy Pants.” A crooked smile lifts one side of your face.
He laughs. “Hardly.”
“You should own that, not many people get accepted into Law School, which means you must be a brainiac or something. An attractive lawyer with an English accent could get away with anything here.”
It wins another smile from him, and he blushes a little. Despite yourself, it feels good to see it. You wouldn’t mind seeing it more often. His voice is nice, and his brown eyes are pretty and kind-looking.
“What about you, what do you do?”
“Oh.” You wave a hand. “I’m a chef.”
“Not bad.”
“I guess.”
“You don’t enjoy it?”
“No, I love it, but it’s not as fancy as being a lawyer.”
The cat stretches again, and for the first time since the world ended, you smile. You catch the man staring and look away quickly before you can put too much thought into it.
He leans over a little. “I think being a chef is very fancy.”
The smile stays. “Flatterer. What’s your name?”
“Eric. And you?”
You tell him as if you’re chatting with a friend. As if you haven’t seen more death than you normally would have in two lifetimes. As if everything is normal and the last three days weren’t spent clawing and dragging yourself through hell, fighting every inch for your goddamn life. The realization sits with you afterward as the Sound stretches out around the boat. It’s foolish to be this open with a random person, but as he looks at you with such unbridled warmth, the thought fades as quickly as it appears.
“So, when we get to this island are you going to cook for me?”
“For your sake, I hope not.” The smile returns easily. “When we get there are you going to recite all the New York laws you’ve learned? I could use something to fall asleep now that I don’t have a phone.”
He tries to hold back a wicked grin. “Would it be a surprise if I told you I’ve forgotten nearly all of them?”
“Eric, I’m never hiring you to be my lawyer. I hope we can remain friends though.”
“That is a crushing loss, but I’ll accept it.”
The boat ride continues like that. Eric makes you laugh, and you make him laugh too. It’s nice. You catch his eyes lingering at times when you look out over the water, when he looks off in the distance you stare back, memorizing his features no matter how many alarms ring in your mind.
You feel safe, your body relaxes, your mind wanders to things that aren’t survival. Your guard drops.
But it doesn’t last.
The first thing that gets your attention is when people start standing up and moving to the front of the boat. They quietly shuffle, wrapping themselves up, huddling in groups, talking. The boat’s foghorn blasts out twice, Eric glances at you before getting to his feet and picking up Frodo. He reaches a hand down to help you up.
Something twists in your gut as the sandy shoreline of the island comes into view. A small pier made of rickety planks that looks like it’s falling apart stands alone, reaching out to the boat among gently lapping waves.
Your exit point.
Everyone else seems excited, they gather their things and talk excitedly with smiles. Even Eric is smiling as he holds Frodo up to see the shore. He looks around and behind him to see you not by his side but towards the back of the boat.
A crewman shouts out: “Everyone goes to the main campsite mess hall. Big white building up the shore—a straight shot from the pier.”
People bustle across the boat ramp; Eric’s yellow cardigan is lost in the crowd as you continue to hang back. Something doesn’t let you move forward; something keeps your legs locked.
You don’t know this area. You can’t see past the trees; you don’t know what’s in the little buildings behind the mess hall. Survival instincts rush back, uninvited, you brace for something to come crashing through the buildings or the trees. The rush of people down the pier is noisy, their pounding feet hit the planks and the sound echoes across the water. You expect to hear screams or for the crowd to scatter. You expect the clearing to be filled with bodies any minute now.
“Hey, off the boat unless you want to go back to Manhattan.” The crewman chuckles darkly.
Fine. You’d take your chances with the trees.
. . .
People are waiting on the porch of the mess hall, the area they dropped you off is an old campsite with a few cabins scattered on the edge of the cleared area. They wear clean clothes, they aren’t covered in dirt, and their faces look well-rested. They’re shouting instructions to the crowd, something about cabins for families and tents or sleeping bags.
The crowd watches the people on the porch.
You watch the tree line.
And Eric watches you.
When he finally catches your eyes, he smiles that handsome, crooked smile. It’s an invitation for you to join him, to start this new life together.
But you turn away, stuffing the guilt and shame down and focusing on the survival mindset that’s already crept back into place. If you went with him, if you built a new life with him, how would you feel if he died the same as the others who didn’t make it to the boats? The ones whose bodies are now scattered on the streets of Manhattan.
It would break you. Simple as that.
. . .
Families are getting the cabins first and foremost. Pairs or groups of three are given tents. Everyone else gets sleeping bags. The clean, well-dressed woman had looked you over with a hint of pity as you answered her questions, and she checked them off on her clipboard.
“Any family with you?”
“No.”
“Did you arrive with anyone?”
“…No.”
“You don’t have anyone? You don’t know anyone?”
“No...”
She pauses, studying you. “I’m going to make an exception and give you a tent, you can set it up with the group. There are a few over there that have minor injuries, try to help them in the mornings.”
Eric had gotten a sleeping bag and was directed toward the mess hall with the others.
After the first night, he had come out looking worse than when he had gone in. His eyes were red, and he dragged his feet while Frodo padded next to him with a light step.
Of course, the cat would come over to you and rub against your legs. Eric trailed behind the fuzzy menace, despite how awful he looked he still greeted you with a smile.
Damnit.
“You got a tent. Very nice.”
“…Take it.”
“What?”
“I want you to have my tent, I’ll take your sleeping bag.”
“Uh…I don’t…”
You stand. “Eric, take the tent.”
“…Why? Would you rather sleep in the mess hall? I don’t recommend it, the others… they grieve at night.”
Damn his pleading brown eyes. Why couldn’t he make this easy on you?
“It’s fine. Please, take the tent. I’m going to sleep outside anyway.”
 “I can’t let you—”
“If you don’t take the tent, it will stay empty. Trust me when I say I’m more comfortable away from the tents.”
Eric struggles to accept your offer but won’t fight you—he looks too tired to argue. “Ok.”
Before he can say anything else, you turn away and head toward the mess hall.
. . .
They assign you to the kitchen. Somehow, it’s familiar and foreign at the same time. That’s fine with you, it gives you an excuse to get up before everyone else and avoid most meals when the groups get together and eat.
They always talk so loudly.
You get up early and go to bed late, helping during downtimes wherever you’re needed. Cooking takes up your early mornings, building cabins takes up your afternoons. In the evenings you sit and eat alone before returning to the kitchen to clean up and prepare for the next morning.
Sleeping outside isn’t bad either, the bonuses are worth it. Away from the rest, it’s quiet, only the chirping summer bugs can be heard. You can see the stars when you look up and you can watch the tree line when you can’t sleep, which is almost every night.
Frodo found you working in the kitchen and now comes to see you every morning, waiting just outside the back door. You start leaving the back door open, sneaking Frodo little scraps of food when no one is looking. And then, the other night, he found your sleeping spot. He says goodnight to you every night now.
Occasionally, you’ll have a nightmare—a memory of Manhattan, it’s always a memory—you’ll wake up struggling, suffocating in your sleeping bag to find Frodo watching you. On those nights he always cuddles with you and stays until morning. Those mornings you take him back to Eric. It’s like the little fuzz ball knows you’ll do it too as he jaunts across the lawn, looking back and waiting for you to catch up.
Eric always looks so happy to see you.
“He uh…he was with me last night—I promise I’m not trying to steal him, he just…”
“Found you?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s good at that.” He pauses. “Did you sleep last night?”
You sigh, rubbing your neck. “I’m fine.”
“That wasn’t my question.” he gently corrects. “You look tired…”
“Frodo helped.”
“If something is bothering you, you can always—”
“No, I just…it’s different here. I’m not used to…”
Eric waits patiently, as always, with kind and gentle eyes. It makes you want to scream.
You shake your head. “We’re having mashed potatoes later.” And then you’re gone.
No matter how much you avoid or give him your best scowl, he still tries to worm his way into your heart. Most people here are trying to do the same thing. They offer you food and water when taking a break from building cabins. They call you by name when they see you around. They invite you to eat at their table during dinner—you decline as curtly as possible, they always understand. Most of them came with families or friends, and many of them have made new friends. All of them have someone else.
They’re real people. You’re still stuck in Manhattan.
You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for those things to find their way here, for everything to come crumbling down again. When people invite you to join them it only makes you angry—they’re acting like this is normal. It’s not. Less than 50 miles away, on the mainland, those things are still crawling around, they could appear here any day now.
This could all end, and it would end quickly.
When you think about this, your mind goes to Eric and Frodo. Your mind traces out how you might be able to get them out and what the best possible way to do that would be. Then you catch yourself—you didn’t survive to this point by being worried over others.
. . .
“May I sit?”
It’s Henri, a man from the same boat who’s taken charge more than the fancy clipboard people ever could. His family made it to the boat with him and he’s been the most vocal about how lucky everyone is and how they should make the best of things. He keeps people’s spirits high, which means he’s going to try and talk to you about—
He sits anyway, even though you haven’t said a word. Your unfinished dinner sits on your lap. Maybe one of the kids will want it.
“I notice you, sitting alone most dinners. Why don’t you join the group?”
“They’re too loud.”
His expression changes. “I understand. You were also from Manhattan?”
“…Yeah.”
“Eric, he has only nice things to say about you. He cares for you.”
Your attention perks up, you try not to let that bother you.
“He says you may be still getting over everything.”
When you offer no response, Henri continues. “You avoid everyone because you think those creatures will appear and our way of life will return to survival, is that right?”
“Sure.”
He nods. “I’m also cautious, every night I worry for my family, for the good people here… but I cannot let those fears control me or stop me from living again. Fear kept you alive back then, but it’s time to let go.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“If I let myself and somehow this all…ends. I won’t be able to—to keep going.”
“Would you stop yourself from living based on that? We are safe here—”
“For now.”
Henri sighs. “It’s hard to let your guard down. I want to remain strong for my family, but my son needs a father who opens up and learns how to live again. Eric is the same—he continues to hold hope for you, even when you turn him away. He wants to share this life with you.”
“How often do you talk to Eric?” You ask, growing defensive. Henri sounds like he knows everything. Shit. He probably does.
“I see how he looks at you.” He leans a little closer. “And I see how you watch him sometimes. How you guard him from imaginary monsters—how you gave your tent to him, and how you feed his cat, Frodo.”
You shake your head. This is too much. “Eric will move on. I was just being nice.”
“Your mind is still in Manhattan,” Henri says, standing and wiping his pants. “No one but you can change that. Think of all the people here who know you. They’ve let go; They are happy. You deserve to be happy too.” He walks off, leaving your mind spinning.
All the people that know me?
. . .
“Here’s some water.” Marci hands you a bottle with a smile as you sit on a long wooden plank. “Nice job on the cabin, it’s coming along. Oh, my son made you this.” The woman hands you a crudely made drawing on a crumpled paper. Not many crayons made the trip, so it’s only got blue and green colors. It shows the little boy—Will, you think his name is—Marci and their dog in front of a mansion.
You huff, it’s the closest thing to laughter you’ll allow. “I’m afraid it won’t be this big.”
“He knows that, he’s just really excited to sleep under a roof again.”
You fold the page up, slipping it into your back pocket. “Happy to help.”
A man passes Marci, and she starts talking to him excitedly. You take the opportunity to stand and slip away—it’s nearly 3 o’clock, and dinner will begin in a few hours.
A familiar streak of white and black joins you, purring against your leg. “Hey, Frodo.”
The cat looks up at you with sharp green eyes, stopping in front of you.
“No more snacks, I already gave you some earlier.”
Frodo meows, loudly. It’s uncharacteristic of him.
“What?”
Another meow.
“Are you really that upset over the snack? Geeze cat, fine, you can have a little bit.”
You move around him, still heading towards the back door of the mess hall kitchen, but he stays completely still…and meows again.
Looking back, you frown. “What is it? Why are you being so noisy today?”
Frodo takes a few steps toward the tents, then pauses and looks back to meow.
You’re paying attention now. Frodo never does this. “You want me to follow you, is that it?”
The cat turns, tail held low, and continues toward the tents. You’re quick to follow—it’s midday, everyone should be up, almost no one hangs around the tents until it gets dark, and the lanterns are lit.
What makes it worse is as Frodo weaves through the tents, he heads straight for Eric’s.
The tent flap is mostly closed, but the fuzzball slips in the crack at the bottom. Before you pull the flap back, your mind runs wild with possibilities. All of them equally grim. All are laced with the thought: What will I do if he’s gone?
But you pull the flap up to see Eric leaning over while he sits on his cot with his head in his hands. He holds a piece of paper that’s been crumpled up and weathered. You see thin, cursive writing on it.
Frodo sits just inside the entrance. You motion to the cat wordlessly. Do your job!
It blinks up at you and doesn’t move.
Which means it’s up to you.
“Eric?”
He sits up, sniffling and furiously wiping his eyes with a sleeve. “Oh, hi. I—I didn’t see you there.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He gingerly folds up the piece of paper, carefully avoiding your eyes.
This is not your forte, but Frodo led you here because he thought you could help, so you’ll do your best.
“What’s that?” You ask, coming over to sit next to him on his cot. Your movements are slow and careful as if you don’t want to spook him.
He glances at the paper. “It’s a note, from a dear friend of mine. She…she didn’t make it to the boat.” He holds it out to you.
Taking it from him you open it back up and scan the lines. It’s beautiful and there are hints of prose used, all written with neat handwriting.
“What was her name?”
His voice cracks with emotion. “Sam.”
Folding the paper back up carefully, you put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry Eric.”
He leans into your touch. “Me too, but I’m thankful to have met her.”
He wipes his eyes again. A simple realization hits you like a truck—Eric has lost someone, yet he continues to go on, he cherishes those memories. He doesn’t stop himself from making new ones or holding back, he embraces life even after experiencing loss. Not to mention that he’s in a different country, everything he knows is across the ocean—and there’s no way for him to return.
“Are you alright?” he asks, looking at you with furrowed brows.
“I…” You swallow back a lump in your throat. “I owe you an apology.”
“What for?” He turns slightly to face you, his knee bumping into yours. The touch lingers, but you don’t move away.
“I’ve been cold to you since we got here.”
Eric gently snickers. “Since the boat ride, I’ve been wondering if you didn’t like me anymore. It’s not a big deal—”
“I like you a lot. That was part of the problem. I like you so much that I’m terrified of losing you.”
His joking smile drops a little, giving way to something more serious, something more vulnerable.
You continue, trying to wipe the encroaching scowl off your face. Being vulnerable and enjoying life is not a weakness.
“On the boat, I felt safe. Here, I struggle—I keep thinking we’re going to be attacked at any moment.”
Eric gently takes your hand, it twitches at first but relaxes when the warmth spreads from his palm to yours.
“I still feel like I’m still in Manhattan. I don’t want to lose everything again. I can’t lose everything again; I can’t handle that. So, I…I just don’t get close.”
Eric touches your cheek and brings your head up to look at him. “You are so strong. Ever since I first met you on the boat, I knew that. Do you feel stronger when you’re alone?”
You think over his question for a moment—of all the nights you’ve spent jumping at shadows, wrestling with nightmares and ‘what ifs’, of all the times you wanted to sing along with the others as they sat by the bonfire at night.
“I feel prepared…but, ultimately, no.”
“There’s strength in community and kindness. The others recognize how strong you are, and they still call you by name, they still offer you a space next to them. You might not want that, but I know you’ve seen it.”
“They’re very nice.” You admit. “I always thought it was easier alone.”
“I disagree. I think things are harder alone. I think things are harder without someone to lean on when you have trouble, or when you’re scared, and you doubt yourself. I don’t want you to sleep alone in the woods anymore—I want you to start relying on me.”
You nod holding back tears as you get absorbed in Eric’s kindness. “Ok.”
As Eric leans his forehead to yours, things don’t seem as bleak anymore. It’s a new feeling. Some ideas span months in the future vs. wondering what will happen tomorrow. The smiling faces of others are no longer pushed to the back of your mind, making noise doesn’t seem like a crime anymore.
It will take time to unlearn the survival mindset and truly let yourself live again. But you have Eric and Frodo to help you now.
And months from now, as you lay in Eric’s warm arms whispering—not out of necessity, but for fun—with Frodo sleeping in the gap between legs, you think back to all the nights in the woods or all the dinners when you ate alone. This is nice—fuck it, this is great.
Eric kisses you in the chilly Autumn air every chance he gets. You play with the kids as they grow astonishingly fast. You and Eric build your new home from scratch, and he carries you across the threshold when it’s finished. When you share a bed—a real bed—Eric holds you and protests when you need to get up in the morning.
You’re happy.
You’re finally alive again.
168 notes · View notes
whowantslovergirl · 4 months
Text
Casual
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Paige Bueckers x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)
warnings: angst, italics are flashbacks, no happy ending, loosely based on a true story 🤣, paige is SUPER clueless,suggestive but no smut so tht one part will not be in this story, cursing, again paige is kinda mean in this, NOT ASSUMING HER SEXUALITY THIS IS PURELY FOR THE STORY gonna make a new masterlist once there’s more stories 😫
Summary: Y/n knew what her and Paige had but she never wanted that and Paige just wanted this casual
posted: May 30,2024
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This has been going on for months. Ever since I hooked up with Paige we had this little thing going on. Then I did the one thing you shouldn’t, catch feelings. Technically it’s not my fault she shouldn’t be acting like a girlfriend, giving me gifts, taking me on surprise dates and even saying ‘I love you.’ I mean my friends call me a loser 'cause I'm still hanging around. Which is completely understandable it’s been like six months and she hasn’t asked me to be her girlfriend.
______
“Oh that’s Paige’s girl.”
“Yea Paige is dating that chick over there.”
“I heard they’re not even together yet.”
Every single day. I walk around campus and I hear the same thing. “That’s Paige’s girl.” Like my name is Y/n.
Then you heard someone say.
“Paige said she’s just fucking her nothing more nothing less.”
What the hell. I've heard so many rumors that I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch but I never believed it was true. You texted Paige saying you’re coming over and she said okay see you soon.
______
“Why would you say shit like that?!” This always happens we always get into an argument about something she said or something I did. It’s like a routine.
“Well are we not just fucking Y/n?!” Paige yelled back. Then you started to tear up. “Well I- I thought you thought of me better, you know like someone you couldn't lose or something.”
She shook her head and took my hands in hers. “I don’t know what you wanna hear Y/n.”
"We're not together"
Well that hurt. “Yea I know Paige. It just hurts that you see me like that.”
“I don’t but- but I do love you. You know that right?” I nodded and leaned forward. “I love you too Paige.” She smiled and connected our lips.
So now when we kiss, I have anger issues.
_____
“Baby, no attachment”
Those three words make me madder than I ever been in my life. I should leave but to be honest I don’t want too. I mean I always had a crush on Paige and when something finally happened I never been so happy. But at the same time.
Is it casual now?
I remember when we just started messing around and in two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach.
Is it casual now?
______
I know what you tell your friends
“So what’s going on with you and Y/n.” Azzi asked. They were always curious about your… relationship? So they always asked you or Paige what’s going on. Paige shrugged.
“It's casual.”
They didn’t say anything just nodded when they know damn well what Paige and Y/n have is not casual.
_____
Dumb love, I love being stupid.
Sometimes I like to dream of us in a year. You know maybe we'd have an apartment.
And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier.
I walked into our apartment and Paige is already coming up to me giving me hugs and kisses.
“Hey baby how was work?” You shook your head. “Stressful but you know it happens.”
_____
“Come on! They’ll love you I promise.” Paige was showing you off to her new team. “Y/n!”
“Y/n!” I see my friend waving her hand in my face.
Well shit.
______
Paige and I just finished doing our thing and I was putting my (her) shirt on. “Hey so do you wanna go on a date or something?” Paige asked me and I nodded. Usually we do casual dates so it wouldn’t hurt doing a serious one right?
“Do you wanna go to a restaurant or something.” I saw the panic in her face and she immediately shut that idea down.
“Baby, no attachment.”
I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t know going to a restaurant was being attached.” I got all my stuff and left before she could stay anything.
Who asks to go on date then talk about being attached? Fucking idiot.
Is it casual now?
______
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach.
You just started your ‘relationship’ with Paige Bueckers. Two weeks in and her mom is asking you to go on vacation.
Is it casual now?
______
I know what you tell your friends.
“And she just stormed off like a kid bro. Just because I didn’t wanna go to a restaurant.” Paige was telling Azzi about your recent argument. Azzi just looked at her. “What?” Paige asked.
“Well what did you say for her to storm off P?” She shrugged. “I told her she shouldn’t get attached.” She said looking down and mumbling. Azzi looked at her again. “How is wanting to go to a restaurant being attached?”
“She said the same thing! Look, it's casual going to a restaurant is what couples do and we are not a couple.”
“Maybe she doesn’t wanna be casual Paige.”
And that’s what scared her.
______
It's hard being casual
When my favorite bra lives in your dresser
I was getting ready to go out with some friends and was looking for the bra that makes my boobs look big then I remembered that it’s probably at Paige’s which is not good because we are currently not talking.
Whatever I need my bra back.
______
“What are you doing here?” Fuck why does she have to look so hot. “Don’t cream your pants I need my bra.” She just moves out of the way.
I got my bra and was trying to leave but Paige grabbed my arm. “So where are you going dressed like that?” Is she serious?
“I’m going out with friends.” She nodded. “I miss you Y/n.”
“Ok” and you left.
And it's hard being casual
______
“Im so tired of this shit Paige!”
You’re finally confronting Paige about this thing you have going on due to your friends hyping you up.
“Tell her you’re over this shit Y/n!”
“It’s been too long for her not to do shit.”
“Tired of what Y/n?!”
“You! This has been going on for months. Almost a year and you still think this is a casual thing?!”
“If it bothered you so much why didn’t you say anything?!”
“Because Paige I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space.”
Before she could say anything you cut her off.
“I try to be the chill girl but honestly, I'm not.” You started to tear up and she noticed but didn’t say or do anything.
“Well I didn’t want to lead you on-.”
“But you did Paige.”
“Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her Long Beach house and you don’t think that’s leading someone on.”
“And I know what you tell your friends. You probably told them it’s casual right?” She looked down avoiding all possible eye contact. “What we have is not casual Paige and you know that.”
“You knew what this was Y/n. And what we have is casual or so I thought!”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh please I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner and you told me you loved me. That’s not what casual is!”
She ran her hands over her face knowing you were right.
Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter
You’re at dinner with Paige’s parents and before you got here. We got into a huge argument about… honestly I don’t remember but I do know that it was her fault and I’m mad at her. You had been a little rude to her parents but they know you didn’t mean it.
After a while Paige pulled me to the bathroom obviously fed up.
“What the hell bro. I get you’re mad at me but don’t take it out on my parents.” You didn’t say anything and just went back to the table.
“I just want to say sorry for the way I acted today.” They assured you that it’s okay and they know you mean no harm.
Paige wondered why you were being so bitter.
But she didn’t do anything to fix it.
Bragging to your friends
“Yea we’re like doing this thing and like I’m so happy I did it!” Then Paige went on and on and on about you basically bragging. The team was obviously not going along with that, shutting it down immediately.
I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself
“Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell!!”
You pushed her out the door and slammed it in her face.
Note to self: never be in a ‘casual’ relationship.
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An: ENJOYYYYY MY LOVERS 🤍🤍🤍 but definitely making a wbb masterlist maybe emily engstlers next who knows…
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kurokawaia · 3 months
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❛ Jealousy ❜
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Jiang Cheng X Fem!Reader
WC;3.4 k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; afab reader, she her pronouns, jealous feelings, NSFW, smut, PIV, PWP, rough sex, begging, breeding, praise, implied manhandling, possessiveness, implied size kink, reader is depicted to be shorter that him + probably more i cant think of
⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯:: (filled request) Hii! I read your fic with LWJ and oh my gosh I fell in love and cant wait for part 2 🤩I have some idea and I'd like to ask you very very nicely if you could write a fic with jiang cheng (fluff to smut if it's okay) when wwx returns and he finds out that JC is married and maybe reader is busy answering all the questions that wwx has and JC gets jealous? 🤭Thank you in advance and take care! <333 - ANON
m.list | mo dao zu shi m.list
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You stood at Lotus Pier's busiest entrance, awaiting Jiang Cheng's return, the autumn breeze playing with your hair. News had reached you: the one who was famous for his cruelty, Wei Wuxian, had reappeared. And you couldn't help but feel bubbles of anxiety rising up in your chest. You've never seen Wei Wuixian before but knew he was Jiang Change brother.
When Jiang Cheng finally arrived, he had a guarded expression, his eyes darting around the crowd. His gaze landed on you, and immediate relief crossed his face before it settled back into its usual stoic mask.
"Jiang Cheng," you called softly, stepping forward. "Glad to see you back."
He grunted in acknowledgement, attention captured just a moment by the reappearance of Wei Wuxian from the crowd, as brash and bright as ever.
"Jiang Cheng!" Wei Wuxian exclaimed, his loud voice attracting the attention of everyone else in the courtyard. "It's been so long!"
There was a tense muscle in Jiang Cheng's jaw, but he returned the brief greeting. You watched as Wei Wuxian immediately peppered Jiang Cheng with questions, asking him everything that had happened over the years. You knew Jiang Cheng's temper did not hold much patience for Wei Wuxian's antics.
"You must have so much to tell," you cut in, diverting Wei Wuxian's focus from Jiang Cheng. "Why don't we sit down and catch up?"
You pulled Wei Wuxian out, leaving Jiang Cheng by himself, his expression inscrutable, but you sensed that he was irritated. All the time as you answered Wei Wuxian's questions on you, and in particular on how you and Jiang Cheng are married, that it is of very recent development, you could not resist peeking at Jiang Cheng.
Even his face was tense, with crossed arms, as he just stood watching the two of you. Occasionally, his gaze would flicker to you, and his features would tighten subtly.
Hours passed with stories and laughter until finally, Wei Wuxian seemed to run out of questions. "I should let you get back to your duties," he said, grinning as he gave you a playful nudge. "But we'll catch up again soon, right?"
"Definitely," you assured him and watched him walk back through the crowded streets back to Jiang Cheng. As one or two more words were exchanged between the two, a feeling arose within you that something must have changed that profound relationship between you and Jiang Cheng.
The courtyard had emptied now, and Lotus Pier was settling into its nighttime calm, when Jiang Cheng found you standing at the edge of the water, looking out over the moonlit surface.
"It really seemed like you were enjoying your catching up," he said, his voice betraying evident jealousy.
"He had many questions," you said carefully, turning toward him. "I only wanted to make sure he felt welcomed."
Jiang Cheng's face slightly darkened. "You were busy," he grumbled back, his voice a shade sharper than usual.
"I'm sorry if I neglected you," you said softly, drawing closer. "But you know Wei Wuxian—once he starts talking."
"He never stops," Jiang Cheng finished, his face twitching slightly with annoyance. "It's like nothing's changed."
You hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Things have changed, Jiang Cheng," you said at last, meeting his gaze. "We've changed."
His face averted, jaw clenched. "Have we?"
You reached out to touch his arm. "Yes," you persisted, pressing on with a firm tone. "We have come a very long way since those days."
He didn't answer right away, but when he turned back to you, the tension did seem to relax a bit in his face. "I know," he agreed in a low voice. "It's just that."
"Just what?" you pressed on softly.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Seeing him again, it brings back memories," he finally admitted, almost whispering. "And seeing you with him."
You squeezed his arm reassuringly. "You don't need to be jealous, Jiang Cheng," he said softly. "Wei Wuxian and I share a history, but you and I share something different."
"It doesn't matter," he replied, reaching out his hand to squeeze my plump cheeks. "You are my wife." He put an emphasis on the 'My'. Very sacredly and respectfully, you murmured, moving in closer to his touch, the warmth of his hand on your cheek. "And you are my husband."
He looks at you again with an expression that softens to relief tinged with possessiveness. "I don't want to lose you," he tells you with the whisper of fear folded into his voice.
"You won't," you reassured him, reaching up to place your hand over his. "Wei Wuxian may have returned, but my heart belongs to you."
His eyes locked onto yours for a really long time while the moonlight gleamed off his. "Promise me," he whispered, and his thumb stroked your cheek lightly. "Promise me you'll be standing with me here forever."
"I promise," you whispered back. "I'll be here always, Cheng."
"You're mine, Y/n," Jiang Cheng huffed before he yanked your face toward his and press his lips roughly against your own, staring for a second before you closed your eyes,.
His tongue slid inside your warm cavern, tangling with your tongue and causing a gasp to slip from your mouth against his. The noise was muffled by Jiang Cheng's mouth, and your hands shakily placed themselves on his chest, still in shock from the surprising action he did, in public, no less.
He wasn't usually this forward, but you weren't protesting, you loved the feeling that you received when Jian Cheng kissed you.
Jiang Cheng's hand resting on the centre of your back trailed down, slipping around to your chest, where it was about to untie the sash that held your hanfu together. You pulled away hastily, a pout on your lips as Jiang Cheng looked down at you confused.
"What?" he scoffed.
"Not outside," you mumbled, head falling to his shoulder and he sighed, realizing.
He only wanted you to the extent of proving to everyone that you were his and his alone.
So that Wei Wuxian would finally leave you alone.
A gasp left you at the lips when Jiang Cheng picked you up, seamlessly making your figure appear minute in contrast to his own as he carried you to your shared room and placed you with slight haste onto the bed.
Jiang Cheng undresses his robes, revealing a body—bared, yet meant only for your eyes. You watch the muscles on his back ripple slightly as he unties the knot in his hair, black stands falling down his back before he makes his way over to you.
Straddling your hips, he began slowly undoing the sashes and ties to your hanfu. You let out a sigh at the pace that your lover was going at. Small hands hold the wrists of Jiang Chengs and he quirks a brow.
"Cheng, p-please," you breath out, face flushed and embarrassed. ".please b-be faster."
"Alright," Jiang Cheng hummed, untying your Hanfu at a faster rate.
He made room on top of you, tousling tongues again as he slipped your socked panties down your smooth legs. Jiang Cheng's long, thin fingers slide down your slicked folds and burrow past them, a mewl eliciting from your mouth.
Your arms tighten around his back and neck as his fingers press against your throbbing clit, and you are washed with pleasure, breathless and craving more. A moan leaves your parted lips as your back arches into his touch.
Your eyes were screwed shut, but Cheng studied every minuscule movement and reaction your body made as his fingers toyed with your puffy clit, getting slicked by your arousal. Your legs squeeze around his hips, moans stringing out your mouth before you felt his digits slid to your seeping hole.
In less than an instant, the two fingers slipped inside your gummy soaked walls, causing your eyes to snap open. "Feel good?" Jiang Cheng questioned. You could only nod frantically.
"So good," you whimpered as he slowly pumped in and out your spongy walls. "I–It feels so good, Cheng."
"Yeah? And who's making you feel this good?" He asked, and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.
"Y - You're makin' me feel s' good, Jiang Cheng," you whimper. "So good
It's too intense, the perfect combination of pleasure and pressure that you can't contain from being blasted by your voice and into his shoulder. You press your lips to his shoulder, muffling the sounds that come out from the depths of you. His fingers plunged into you, and the heat moved throughout your system, tormenting every thought within you. Each little movement, each curve, sent electric shocks of pleasure radiating through your body.
Jiang Cheng's fingers are slick as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touches. The combination between the fingertips of a master and the strength of the connection has you pressed ever closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of release. Time stood still, a second of pure bliss, as you are consumed by wonderful pleasure coursing through your system.
His fingers did not stop their rhythm and went on pumping in and out of your getting-leak hole. There was a foreign tension developing inside your lower stomach; the pleasure tightened inside your stomach.
You shakily wrap your legs around his, your body quivering in anticipation of each and every one of his moves, responding to his every touch. Chant's of his name were leaving your mouth, voice filled with desire and need while comfort words left his mouth to stabilize you.
Tears welled in your eyes wanting to desperately release the coil that was growing in your stomach.
"Cheng, please," you sob out, wanting that euphoric tension to empty into your body.
But he complies, pressing the pad of his thumb into your clit with a soft groan, yet another layer of pleasure to stack onto what already was. It's pure electricity. You let my back arch in response. "Beg for it," Jiang Cheng hummed against your skin.
"Please, Cheng," I sob. "I need to. So good. Making me feel so good."
"More," he said, teeth digging into my neck, my head thrown back against the pillow.
"Please, please, please," you whimper. "I need it, Cheng," you mewl. "Please, I need it," you mumbled out and Jiang Cheng lifts his head from your neck, admiring the trails of splotches of red.
Jiang Cheng cupped your chin with his free hand, angling your face toward him with eyes staring intently into your own. "Louder," he hummed, leaning in, wanting to hear the words simply spill from those plumped, pretty lips.
Your eyes screw shut as you continued on, desperate for the release you so desperately needed. "Please, please."
"Look at me when you beg for me," he barked, his eyes working, trying to see you fall apart underneath him.
Your his, no one elses.
Eyes snapped open at his command, wanting to release badly. "I want it, please, Cheng, I want you so bad, only you, please," you whimper and you saw his eyes flicker in approval causing a swell of happiness to surge through your body.
"That's it," he reassured, allowing you to release, intertwining your mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.
The pleasure rises, the tension building with every second that passes until you teeter on the edge of release. It's a pure moment of surrender, where the pleasure is supreme and you are overtaken by the overwhelming ecstasy that floods over you.
Waves of ecstasy hit you, leaving your legs trembling and weak, unable to stand even for the greatest sensation. He slips his fingers from your drenched hole, and you continue trembling from the aftertaste of the orgasm.
A mewl leaves your mouth at the sensation of his fingers leaving your soaked cunt. Jiang Cheng pressed his lips against yours, not as rough as before but still with the same impression, and you moan into the kiss.
"I wan' more," you whimper out through his tongue entangled with yours.
"Yeah?" Jiang Cheng hums against your lips and you nod.
"God, I need you, so bad," you add. "Cheng, please, can't leave me like this."
Jiang Cheng filled you around, your stomach pressed against the bed while his abs were flush against your back. His hands moved to grip behind your small ones, rendering your ability to squirm out of Jiang Cheng's hold.
Jiang Cheng's breath sent shivers down your ear, and you wiggled your head at the warm sensation. Now, your core was getting wetter; your body was trying to squirm away from the imposing hold he had on you.
Jiang Cheng slid his hands in this subtle push-and-pull motion, changing his hold so one of his hands can grip both of yours above your head and careful not to get your hair caught in-between the movements. You let out a content sigh as Cheng rose his body just a little, trailing his free hand down the expanse of your smooth back before his fingers meet your slick entrance.
"Sodden," he murmurs against your ear, and then takes a bite of the collagen, and you gasp at the unexpected move.
Then, you felt a heavy, pulsing head press against your clit, and you moaned from the contact. You tried to squirm away from the cause of pleasure, only to be unable to do so, for Jiang Cheng knew your body better than you did yourself—he knew you were going to try to run from his body due to the pleasure. So, he pressed his weight on you once more.
You held your breath as Jiang Cheng sank his flesh into your spongey walls, the ridges squeezing his length with every thrust into your soaked cunt. A moan left both of your mouths as Jiang Cheng's length nudged the deepest spot within you.
"'Look how you take me in,' he grunts. 'Such a good little slut.' You sigh in pleasure at degrading praise—the way he knew you enjoyed being worshiped in an abasement. He savored his words, words that hit so deep, and in a way, he never wanted to call you anything else.".
But he didn't move, he wanted to savor how you wanted to cause friction, desired to move against his touch, but couldn't. Jiang Cheng's cock prodded so deep in your gummy walls that you whimpered in pleasure, but that didn't stop him from not moving. He was still snug inside.
Those hot, tender kisses made their way from your ear down to that dip of your neck to your shoulder right as, with an exhale that breathlessly kills you, Jiang Cheng rolled his hips into yours. A moan slipped out from your mouth, his thick length scraping over all the sensitive spots of your heated insides.
Jiang Cheng splay your legs apart with his knees, so any inclinations from you are ensured to be suppressed with his efforts to keep you still. Underneath him, your beautiful body paled in comparison to his colossal frame. He hoped that you would not budge from his ensnared arms. And true enough, he had his way.
He speeded up further in his own movements, his cock thrusting deep in my needy hole, strained moans and whining leaving your throat. Jiang Cheng could be heard panting in your ear, letting out the occasional deep groan with the sounds that made your cunt flutter tightly around his length.
Jiang Cheng was filling you up to the hilt, his throbbing pink tip knocking against that soft, gummy spot inside my cunt, and I felt I could fly over the edge, scream out in fulfilment. "Found it," he breathed into you, making you let out a moaned sigh, shaking against him with the pleasure. "Found it, hm?" Jiang Cheng smirks. "Am I making you feel so good, huh?"
Your body tried to arch away from the pleasure, not being able to take the strong rolls of his hips, but as you arched back away, his thrusts only aimed deeper, harder into your G spot. "Y-yeah," you sobbed out, tears filling your lash line. "B-but. Too much. Slow down, too much."
His hips picking up in pace now, loving how your cunt squeezed his cock even though you wanted him to slow down, how contradicting he thought your words were, you were denying your body the release that you so desperately needed. "Your taking me so well though," Jiang Cheng added. "You can take it, your so close."
Repetitive moans left your mouth while he pounded into your tight heat. You had the sudden instinct to press yourself into his length, but you couldn't; his weight was too heavy for you to move against him. You were utterly hopeless as his thrusts became faster.
"I—I wanna come," you cry out mewling. "So big, you feel so big, Jiang Cheng."
Your body trembled beneath him and the hold he had on your hands loosened, your hips getting held, then, the strength he possessed lifting you onto your knees before a bicep wrapped around your throat, lifting your head. It wasn't a tight grip but the power lifted your head from the futon while you shakily rested your weight on your elbows.
Your back arched heavily, finally being able to sink more into him. Jiang Cheng hunched over you, pulling you closer to him and connected your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, grunting into you while he swallowed your moans. "Taking me so deep, making me feel so good, making you feel so good, aren't I?" Jiang Cheng moaned, drawing back from your mouth and pushing the arch into your back deeper.
He watched your ass ripple again against his lower abdomen, watching your pussy with grey eyes'. Watching how your walks sucked him in, leaving a creamy white rind of arousal around the base of his cock. "Making you feel so good, aren't I?" Jiang Cheng groaned with his head tilted forward, sweat beading on his forehead as he watched you fall apart and tremble from his dick, with broken moans slipping past your plump lips.
A satisfied smirk came onto Jiang Cheng's face as he watched those tears that welled in your fluffy lash line spill down your smooth cheeks. "Look how good you are taking me," groaned Jiang Cheng. "So good. Love you so much."
"'Wanna come, please," you beg, wanting to feel the release, desperate as the tears stream down your flushed cheeks. "Want it so bad. 'M love you too!"
You clench around his length as he picks up his pace. Instantly accommodating the speed, your moans escalate. Chasing with a deep moan, he mumbled in my ear while he leaned down, and my insides stirred, clenching around his length. "How much you need me?" rasps Jiang Cheng in your ear.
"Want you bad!" you whimper, being unable to grasp any thoughts that swelled into your head. "You make me feel so good!"
"Say it again, wanna hear it," Jiang Cheng grunts his teeth grinding together.
You moan out, your body trembling. "You make me feel so good, Cheng, want you so much," you hiccup out as the coil in your stomach tightened while his heavy balls slapped against your swollen clit.
"Nnggh, that's it," Jiang Cheng groans back, not allowing you to say anything towards the end, wantonly ready to fill your cunt up with his seed. 
"Please, Cheng, I wanna come," you moan.  "Want you to make me come."
"That's it," he groaned, and you spasmed around his length, as your high washed over you, your legs shaking, as his weight pressed down even more than it already was. He didn't slow his thrusts—a fact rather evident, as I let out whimper after whimper of overstimulation—but Jiang Cheng continued to help it, his hips rutting into mine, helping me ride out my orgasm as he chased his own.
With a groan he was back, lips planted against mine once again as his hips slammed into mine, hard, cumming, spilling inside me which caused me to moan into his kiss. Jiang Cheng slipped his softening length out, and pulled away from the kiss as you slumped to the futon, his eyes chained to the white splotches of silky come that spilled from your gaping cunt before fingering the liquid back into your cunt.
The grip of Jiang Cheng's hands on your hips tightened a bit as he gracefully rolled you to lie on your back and pulled back far enough so you could see the intensity in his eyes as he dipped down, taking your lips in a chaste but at the same time almost possessive kiss. The world faded away. There was just you two in that shared moment of intimacy.
And when the kiss finally ended, his forehead rested against yours. "You are mine," he murmured with voice filled with affection. "Mine and nobody else's."
Your heart swelled with the words he uttered, causing a warmth in your chest as you nodded. "Yes, Jiang Cheng," you replied softly, your voice tender and kind. "I'm yours and yours only."
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Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.
m.list | mo dao zu shi m.list
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yawujin · 1 month
Note
Heyyy I havent seen you write any danganronpa stuff recently so if you fell out of interest its alr I was just wondering if you could please write danganronpa v3 boys x reader at the beach HEAVY on korekiyo haven't seen much fan stuff for him and it saddens me.
anyway pls&thx have a good day :)
hey anonnn, you're right i haven't written for dangan in a bit...thing is; i have a hard time writing for things i'm not currently hyperfixating on (bad trait to have i know) there are a ton of requests for dangan hcs/x reader in my inbox rn so i'll try to get more of those done ദ്ദി(˶‾᷄ᗜ‾᷅˵ ᵕ) hope you enjoy this in the meantime!!
request | v3 boys x reader 🏖 beach edition
type | headcanon format , reader insert , light hearted , you pronouns used
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shuichi saihara ♡
easily gets sunburned so he prefers to stay under a beach umbrella most of the time
asks you for help with applying sunscreen all over his exposed skin
brought water bottles for everyone (my thoughtful kinggg <3)
lowkey would want to play volleyball w everyone else but think he'd be too awkward whilst playing
would most likely invite you to sit under an umbrella with him near the shore and listen to the sound of the waves with you
rantaro amami ♡
walks along the pier with you
buys you whatever you want at the concession stands there
"this beach is beautiful, you should see the ones i've traveled really far to see, too. they're amazing!" he exclaims
rantaro shows you a plethora of pictures he's taken of beaches all around the globe
would most likely collect a little bit of the sand from the beach just to keep a piece of it with him for memory's sake.
k1b0/kiibo ♡
he is awaaaaay from the water
he stands up on the rocks , looking out to the ocean (he would like to admire it without getting wet)
he's 100% a nerd so he gives you some fun facts about sharks , fish , etc
when you come back from swimming, he tells you how cool you looked
he totally wishes he could go and swim w you :(
korekiyo shinguji ♡
he enjoys the atmosphere , and your company ofc
you two walk on the pier talking about what to get for lunch
ngl it feels like a date when you are sitting across from kiyo, eating your food
"it's beautiful, isn't it?" he says, after a moment of quiet
"yeah! the beach is pretty nice." you reply
"i meant you, dear." he tells you
wink
kaito momota ♡
he's the one that set up the volleyball net
trying to encourage his sidekick to play volleyball with him
after getting rejected 5 times within a minute, he asks you
"i won't go easy on ya!"
kaito got a little too cocky for someone who kept on getting foul balls
gonta gokuhara ♡
quietly observing the hermit crabs on the beach
he marvels at the slugs crawling up the rocks
he's lowkey in bug heaven rn
you tell kokichi to stfu when he tells gonta that his hair looks similar to seaweed
"does gonta's hair really resemble seaweed?" he frowns
you comb your fingers through his hair and reassure him that his hair looks just fine :)
ryoma hoshi ♡
spends most of his time away from the crowd or in a shop on the pier
"beaches really aren't my type of scene"
you walk about a mile or two with him on the endless sands of the beach
you hadn't expected him to break the long silence until he said:
"glad you're here to keep me company."
he's pulling his beanie down to shade his eyes from the sun (and to hide his cute embarrassment)
kokichi ouma ♡
"let's both run into the water in three...two...one!"
except he stayed behind and let you do it all alone, much to your embarrassment (and annoyance)
he makes it up to you by buying you an ice cream
"awww don't be so mad! after we're done we can go swim together! promise!"
surprisingly, he keeps his promise and you two have a good time
you splash each other with ocean water playfully and engage in a small game of water tag
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⋆ ˚。⋆ my ao3
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moon-child-goddess · 8 months
Text
When we say goodbye Pt 2
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Pairings:  Druig X LightBender!Eternal!Reader (Fem) 
Summary: Reader’s life after Druig left, and when they meet again, the reader is running an illegal operation selling weapons and stuff.
Warnings: MCU Violence, Blood, Fighting, I used Fem pronouns, angst, this is darker than I meant to be. Talks about killing and death.
Author's note: I got carried away again. This is almost 6k words. Part 3 will be shorter and fluff mostly. This is not proofread.
Part One Part Three
After that night in Tenochtitlan the group slowly split up on their own. Y/N had settled in a small town that was used as a trade route. Boats came from all over with fine jewels, linens and food. Half a mile from the pier was these empty stalls people would rent out to sell things for the day. Most people there made a livable profit to provide for their families. It was Y/N’s favorite place to hang out. She liked to check out what new things humans had created, and help the elderly set up shop.
One warmer than normal afternoon she made her way through the stalls smiling at all her favorite neighbors and purchased small things from them to help support their families. A booth of glittering knives and jewelry caught her eye as she passed by. More specifically a dagger of silver with blue stones in the hilt. His eyes were that blue, she thought. Her fingers danced gently over the stones lost in her memories.
“How much?” Y/N asked the small, round in the belly merchant. Her eyes didn’t leave the blade.
“I will give it to you for the piece in your hair.”
It was a pin that Druig had gifted her, a golden butterfly.  This was the last thing she had of him. Y/N’s fingers subconsciously touched the cold metal; she had forgotten it was there. It had become such a habit to put it in first thing in the morning since he had given it to her. She never knew where he got it from, and when she asked him he smiled and just murmured her nickname. There was no way she could part with it. It was all she had.
“Umm, let me think about it. Thanks.” With a smile she continued down the stalls. She thought she was over the pain of him leaving but it was still as fresh as the day it happened.
As she passed a fruit stand, she heard a voice that sounded an awful lot like Druig.  Her heart picked up a beat. Was It really him after all these years? Out of the corner of her eye she could make out dark hair and he faintly looked about the same size. She took a second to control her breathing before fully facing the man.
It wasn't him, just another human trying to haggle for a deal on the fruit. Her heart hurt a little more than it had at booth with the knives. She longed to see her friend again. She had searched for him but with no luck of finding him. He never cared, did he? Why stay away after all this time if he cared even an ounce? It's been over a hundred years.
Without a second more of hesitation, she ran back to the man with the dagger. Out of breath she yanked the hair piece out. The strands of hair it held fell back to their natural place.
The merchant stared at her as if she grew another head. He had half the mind to up the price since she wanted it that much, but something told him no. She studied the pin one last time. When she handed this to him she had nothing left that tied her to him. This- This was goodbye. Her eyes burned for a second, but she refused to cry anymore. Y/N thought about the time with the butterflies. A time where she was happy and never would have thought he would have left her.
Trading was the smart thing to do. Her powers didn’t seem to work anymore. Every time she tried to shape light after that night it put a strain on her body. She almost passed out every time. The shadows sometimes moved, but she couldn't quite master them yet. Ajak couldn't figure out why they stopped working either. The women had tried healing Y/N on many occasions, but nothing worked. At one point Y/N begged Ajak to take her memories and let her start over. Let her have a reset after 5,000 years. She was exhausted, and her soul hurt immensely. But Ajak said no.
The merchant held his hand open waiting for her to hand it over. Y/N dropped it in his waiting palm with a lone tear falling down her cheek. She took the dagger and turned, missing the flash of golden eyes watching her walk away.
She made her way back to the small place she called home, setting the weapon on the table. Sprite made her way out of her room to bother Y/N about being bored. But stopped any words from coming out once she saw the state Y/N was in and gave her a hug. They stayed like that for quite some time.  Sprite extended her visit for a few extra days making sure Y/N was ok before she left to live with Kingo.
-----
Centuries passed slowly for Y/N, but she had stopped clinging to her feelings for Druig and moved on. She started dating humans and some aliens. They kept her company and cared for her the way she yearned for. They came and went throughout the years. She watched some grow old and die. Quite a few were whisked off to wars where they died.  Each one of them took a piece of her with them as she loved them fiercely.  
Two of them were murdered in cold blood right in front of her. She managed to kill one of the assassins in a fit rage. Before she knew the shadows around her came together forming a monster scarier than the boogieman. It tore the assailant apart making it so no one could identify him. Just as quickly as the monster was created it vanished.  Humans continued to become such dark and miserable creatures that enjoyed inflicting pain.
Y/N eventually moved in with Ajak and Sprite soon after losing control of her powers. She didn’t mean to kill the man it had just happened. They moved around a lot because to many people became curious of Sprites appearance. During the years they were together they helped Y/N gain control of the shadows. Sprite often created illusions with her abilities to push Y/N to new extremes.
After an afternoon of fighting Y/N was ready to give up, the shadows were not working, and she wanted a break from learning. She felt like a child. Helpless. Sprite wanted her to actually shape something instead of using ribbons of shadows to do her work. They had done it four times last week.
“This is dumb. I am going to bed.”
“Come on Sunshine. Don’t tell me you can’t fight an imaginary bear.” Sprite teased. She knew the nickname would set her friend off.
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” Y/N bit out. Throwing ribbons of jet-black shadows at the bear. She held it in place keeping it from moving an inch.  It ripped Sprites creation in half.
“Not what we wanted, but good enough.”
Y/N heaved. She was afraid of the shadows they tended to kill more then anything. IT was an extension to her pain and anger. They were way stronger then the light had been.
----
One particularly stary night she was making her way back home from the market. Y/N wanted to make a nice dinner for Ajak after everything she had done for her. She decided to cut through the forest to get back home faster. A man followed behind her. He waited till they were far enough away to get closer, so no one could hear her scream. Y/N could feel a cold stare on her. She turned and the man took the opportunity to attack holding a knife to her throat.
“Give me your jewels and money.”   The girl stared at him like he was stupid.
“Are you deaf? I said give me your money!” He was livid now.
Y/N shot him a cold smirk. This pathetic man thought he could win? With that thought she let out a humorless laugh. The man almost backed away not expecting this response. He thought she would cry and beg for her life. This was a psychotic response.
“No. I won’t hand it over. If you want to live, I would walk away.”  The man scoffed and pressed on the blade a little harder. A small trickle of blood ran down her neck.
“I am the one in control. I have the knife.” A spray of his saliva hit Y/N in the face.
Before the man could blink, she had him on his knees bound by shadowy ribbons. He tried to pull his arm out, but he couldn’t move.  The darkness swirled behind the girl as she pulled out the knife she always had on her person. The man stopped breathing as he watched the girl walk up to him twirling the blade.
“you-you’re a witch?”
“No, no. I am an eternal. That is a vastly different thing. Now tell me, do you often attack young women in the street?” 
She raised a brow waiting for him to answer. She wasn't sure what to do with him yet and his answer would influence her.  A panicked look flashed through him, and she knew what the answer was. Biting her lip she kept her anger in check before she ripped the man apart. She promised Ajak no more human death.
Her shadows tightened and he cried out. A sickening crack echoed off the trees. She broke a bone for sure.
“You monster.” He cried out as she ran away.
Two days later Y/N was walking sprite back home when a bunch of villagers surrounded them. Amongst them was the man that tried to attack her.
“That's her. That's the witch.” He pointed a bulbous finger in her face.
“I knew she was to pretty.” On person mumbled to their neighbor.
“Devil worshiper.” Another said.
Sprite looked ready to attack but Y/N pulled her back. Shaking her head. She knelt down hugging sprite.
“Go. Run home I will find you later.”
Sprite had a remark that died on her lips. She wasn’t sure if Y/N would live past this. There were a lot of them, and she promised no more killing. Before Y/N could ask her again she ran. Ajak could help she thought.  
When Sprite managed to get Ajak’s help the town square was filled with humans that had been knocked out. Y/N was nowhere to be seen.
-----
Y/N had made her new home Europe after that incident, and she stayed there for centuries. She studied with so many great minds and helped them build institutes and careers. When they died they lived on in the stories Y/N told everyone who would listen.  
She settled in London during the women’s suffrage movement. Where she and her now boyfriend fought for women’s rights together. They made their way through the streets hanging posters when a women left out the doors of a pub.
“Y/N?” She straightened up at the voice. Sersi.
Y/N faced her with a smile on her face. It had been a long time since she had seen the girl.
“Oh, it is you. I have missed you.”
“Hello, Sersi. I have missed you too.”
She hugged the black-haired women. Y/N had forgotten how beautiful she was, and truly missed her hugs. Sersi and her had been close once. A rift grew between them when she married Ikaris. Y/N always stood on Druigs side while Sersi stood by her husband.
“Who is this?” Sersi asked looking at the tall guy next to her.
“Alexander. We are courting as one may say. We are also fighting for women’s rights.” Sersi smiled. Y/N was just like Druig wanting humans to stop being so cruel.
“Well, I am glad you are ok, and best of luck to you.”
-----
“I am going to be a nurse in the war. I want to help the men who are fighting.”  
It was three years into the World War, and Y/N was tired of watching it happen. Alexander had fallen shortly after it started.
“Y/N please, I can’t protect you out there.” Ajak begged.
“I want to help; I can’t stay here. I will come back, I promise.”  
Ajak shook her head not wanting to hear it. Phastos was already way more involved than she liked. Now Y/N wanted to leave and basically be in the front lines? This was her worst nightmare. Two of them may never return to her and she couldn’t bare to part ways with them.
“I just want you safe. You fought your war. The deviants are gone its your time to rest.”
“I have been resting for 1,900 years now. If it becomes too much, I will run.”  Y/N put everything in her tone to sound sincere. They stared at one another before Ajak nodded and asked to be written as much as possible.
-----
The war had been over for a year now and Y/N settled in New York. She hung out at a club where her roommate sang nightly at. Everyone who was anyone came there. Gangsters made deals in the back booths, and Senators got their drugs or girls.
Y/N was sitting at the bar playing with her drink, waiting for her friend to take the stage. It was a busier night than usual.  There was a man with black hair and ocean blue eyes that kept shooting her looks from his side of the bar. She blushed each time they made eye contact. He shot her a wink before she turned to face the stage where the musicians were changing out.
“Hello Ma’am. My name is Giovanni.” There was an Italian accent when he spoke.
“Y/N” She shook his hand smiling.  
It was the start of their love story. They were happy, and Ajak adored him. He made her Y/N truly happy. They spent one weekend a month with Ajak. Family was important to Giovanni, and it was her family. She did tell him about the fact that she would never age, but he didn’t care. He loved Y/N.
“You know who he looks like?” Sprite wiggled her eyebrows. A smirk in her eyes.
“Shut up. That is not why I am with him. He is kind to me.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and ruffled Sprites hair. Which annoyed the young girl. She fixed it and glared off to the horizon.
“I heard he asked Ajak for your hand in marriage.”
“He did. And asked me to marry him last night.” That night, he promised he would never leave her during his human existence. Y/N held out her hand, showing off the engagement ring.  Sprite studied it before nodding. This was not the wedding she expected to attend for Y/N.
----
Y/N and Giovanni lived a lavish life together. She was utterly happy with their life. Giovanni brought her flowers once a week, never allowing a dead one in her sight. Their maid would pick out the dead ones every morning per his orders. Each Friday, he came home early to take her on a date.
One winter night, they were coming home from the ballet and giggling like two school kids with a secret. Giovanni spun Y/N through the opened front door and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are amore?” he asked, flipping on the light switch.
Before any of them could register the man in the hall to the living room, a gun shot echoed through the room. Y/N’s ears rang. Giovanni landed on the floor with a thud. If the gun wound didn’t kill him, the hit his head took would have. Her vision blurred. Blood rushed to her head. This is all a dream. She repeated it over and over, hoping she would wake up.  
Y/N let out a blood-curdling scream when she could see clearly again. Her hand flew to her mouth as tears escaped. She hadn't felt pain like this since Tenochtitlan. Her body was on fire. Like it was turned inside out, and woodland creatures were feeding on her intestines.
She didn’t give the gunman a chance to run. Y/N used the darkness behind him to effortlessly bind him.  He lay on the floor staring up at the dark ceiling.
"Amore! Amore! You are going to be fine, please, wake up.” Her white gloves were now crimson. She tried to apply pressure to the wound. But it was too late, he wasn't breathing, and his skin was a grey blue. Her now silent tears fell on his face. She used a shaky hand to close his cold, lifeless eyes. Y/N laid her head on Giovanni’s chest, still hoping that this was a bad dream.
The killer grunted, trying to escape the binds her shadows kept him in. Y/N’s head snapped up, looking right at him. He was going to pay for his sins. She would make sure of it. She didn’t care about the promise she made Ajak.
The man shook in fear as he watched her approach. Her eyes were completely black, with no white or color to be seen. She pulled every ounce of darkness to her, using it to create his own personal nightmares. The monster took on all forms. No one was close enough to hear him scream.
“Please, the Russians sent me. I have a family.” He begged.
Y/N only smiled. It was music to her ears to her him cry. She used the shadows to tear him apart. There was no body left, just blood dripping from her walls.
-------
Ajak watched Y/N throw dead roses on Giovannis' coffin. It was the last bouquet he had bought her.  They were the only ones left at the cemetery. His family left as soon as the ceremony was over, going home to grieve alone. Y/N wasn't ready to say goodbye. She still held hope for it all to be a dream.
She called Ajak immediately after she killed the man. Y/N sobbed on the phone begging her to come. Ajak showed up as soon as she could to comfort the girl she thought of as a daughter. They planned the funeral together.
After five minutes of staring down into the hole, she fell to her knees. Weeping as her heart broke again.  She was finally happy again, and it was dragged from her in the cruelest way possible. Ajak rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder. They cried together till it got too cold to be outside.
Y/N was tired of feelings. They were overrated anyway. All the light she had left in her soul was gone she was ready to take revenge on evil.
-----
Druig stood as straight as a board with his arms folded together. He listened to his fellow Eternals as they explained to him what Areshim really had planned for them.  His eyes kept flickering back to the door.  He waited for the only one he cared about to open them and walk in. He missed the smile she always wore. Letting her go was the biggest mistake he made in his 7,000 years. When he had gone to find her, she was happy, and he didn’t want to interrupt her life.
"Where is Y/N?"
No one responded or made a sound. They avoided his question. Druig clenched his jaw. Was she out there alone? His heart stuttered at the thought of it. Sprite refused to make eye contact with him. He was not going to like the answer. There was no easy way to explain that she had become a person he would hate.
“She is in New York, basically running a mafia. It’s been in the American news since the 50’s when she burned a church full of racists down. Ten died that day.”  Sprite broke the silence. He needed to know. Druig was going to find out one way or another when they went looking for her. The group didn’t know either. The only other person was Ajak.
Thena and Gilgamesh turned to each other and began to talk in hushed whispers. That seemed a little dark for Y/N. She was the definition of happiness. Killing humans was something she would have never done.
Kauran used the camera to zoom in on everyone's faces as they took in Sprite's words. Sprite had been the only one Y/N talked to after the 50’s. Ajak attempted but never got a response from her. Y/N did not want to listen to lectures about why what she was doing was wrong. She also didn’t want to face the disappointment.
Druig frowned, that couldn’t be right.  Sprite sighed.
"Look, Y/N/N went through some dark things in the last two thousand years. I promise this was a path that took its time to claim her.” Sprite paused her words before continuing. “She has recently been put on the CIA’s watch list. After allegedly murdering a senator, I don’t think she will help us.”
Druig was angry that they allowed her to suffer. His sunshine was out there in pain.
“Why didn’t you help her?” He asked, voice raised.
“Us? You left her. Ajak and I stayed with her most of the time. We tried to take care of her, but humans’ man they can be cruel” Sprite hissed.
“I will go talk to her. I will get her to help” Druig said in a final tone.
“If you plan on getting to her, it will not be easy. There is security armed with extremely illegal weapons posted 24/7.  They are trained to shoot first and ask later. Plus, the last time I saw her was five years ago, and there was no Y/N left. She is not in there.”
Sersi shook her head. Everyone of them refused to believe what Sprite said. There was another silence as they processed the words.
“I will go. We need her, to pull this off.”  
It was mainly selfish reasons for him wanting to go. Druig wanted to confirm that his beautiful sunshine had truly become evil.
“You don't understand. She is not going to help. Y/N doesn't care about anything anymore.” Sprite argued standing up crossing her arms.
“I am going to try. What's the worst that could happen? I can control minds anyway. Her security won’t be anything.”
"She kills you." There was no humor behind her words. Y/N would do it too, no hesitation. She watched the girl gut a man who betrayed her without even blinking. That was the last time she spoke to her.
"Fine with me." Ikaris chimed in. Druig rolled his eyes. Now was not the time to fight with him.
-----
Y/N stood over the traitor. Her slender fingers gripped onto his chin, holding his head in place. That way, he was forced to stare into her colorless eyes. Her rings were pinching his skin as she gripped tighter. He tried to pull out of the shadow ropes that were tying him down.
“What did you tell them?” He blinked then laughed. The sound was borderline maniacal. Y/N landed a swift punch to his nose. A crunching sound could be heard. She smirked; it was broken. Blood pooled out of it and onto her shoe.
Pity. She thought. Her favorite suede over the knee boots were now stained. Y/N yanked a knife out from one of the many on her leg. The light from the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling reflected off the blade as she dragged it up his shirt to his neck. He swallowed, and the blade kicked his skin. Scarlet drops slowly crept out. She bent over, pressing her lips right against his ear.  Maybe if he heard them directly and clearly, he would understand.
"What did you tell them?" She asked again, her red lips leaving marks on his skin.
"I'm not saying a word. You may as well use that knife." They spoke and spit in her face. Some blood mixed in landing on her nose. She backed away, tightening the hold the shadows had on him. Her eyes turned completely black again as her blood pressure rose. Light evaporated as she pulled the shadows around them. She smirked when she saw his shudder.
"Very well then." Without another thought, she slid her dagger across his neck, ending it swiftly. The knife cut through like his neck was room temperature butter. She flicked the knife off to the side a few times before taking the black handkerchief her right-hand man held out. While she polished the blade, she let the shadows go.
"Y/N?" A male voice with an accent spoke. Her back stiffened. She hadn't physically heard that voice in many, many years. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn't real. She had heard his voice throughout time in her head, but it stopped after meeting Giovanni. Was she losing it like Thena? All the murders finally catch up to her.
"Clean this up. Regular protocol, and don't forget to burn your clothes this time. Also, remove the tongue so people know what happens when you betray us.” Y/N spoke after a moment. Electing to ignore her illusion.
"Ye-yes ma'am."
Her cohort looked confused while staring at the door behind her. So, he was real. He showed up now? It's a little too late. Y/N was not surprised he got in since he could control minds after all, but how did he find her.
Y/N walked past Druig out the metal doors he held open. Her long ponytail bounced with each step she took, and her heels echoed.  She refused to acknowledge him and made her way to her office. She still wasn't entirely convinced it was him. Maybe the shadows created him to give her a consciousness.
Druig followed closely behind her. Slightly appalled at the sight back there. That was not the woman he knew. This person was a shell of who she was.
Her office was pristine and all black. Everything was in the exact place she wanted it in. Y/N poured herself a cup of Burbon, not speaking a word.  She faced the window as she chugged it down and filled it back up.
"Can I help you? Or are you here to lecture me?" She finally faced the blue-eyed man. His jaw was still sharp enough to cut through glass. Leaning back on her desk, she crossed one foot in front of the other. Showing off her legs. She was intimidating. A true queen upon her throne.
Druig took in the lack of color in her eyes, and the iris was back. He looked over her swallowing. Knives were adorning her legs. Each dagger was delicately designed and had a blue sapphire in the handle. She looked good. He had to admit that.
Although he was not going to be intimidated by her. He folded his arms, copied her pose, and glared at her. This was not Y/N. He refused to believe that.
"Lecture you for what? Taking a human life? I should because the Y/N I knew would have never done that." Druig shook his head; some black hair falling in to his face.
"He was a traitor. They get punished. Which is none of your business. I stopped being your Y/N when you left me."  She bit down on her lip, folding her arms. Druig flinched.
"What about the senator?" Oh, was that why he was here. Mad, I took the trash out of political power. Druig took a step closer, testing the waters.
"He was a bad man. He hurt children. Again, none of your business. Also, if I said anything, you would be an accessory."  She was getting annoyed. This was why he showed up after 2,000 years to judge her. She grabbed the cup of bourbon and downed it.
"And killing him is, ok?" Druig watched her eyes flash all black. shadows covered the light in the room. This was new. He thought.
"Once again. None. Of. YOUR. Business. This is my empire." She enunciated every word spitting them out. Then threw her glass at him, missing his head. Druig took another slow step towards her.
"My sunshine, what has happened?" Y/N scoffed at his words. Her eyes went fully back again. He had no right to show up unannounced and tell her how to treat people. No right to use that nickname.
"I haven't manipulated light in 2,000 years, so don't call me that. The shadows... the dark is always there.”  
It was true the sunset, the light disappeared. The Sun would cast shadow she could always find the dark. He bent down, putting his hands on the table under her. Effectively, he trapped her in front of him. They were mere inches apart. He took in the scar that was on her right eyebrow. It was on the rawer side telling him it was recent.
"There is always light. You just have to find it. So, tell me what happened."
“I was tired of being the good guy. You walked away, and everything fell apart, Druig. I was alone and hurt. I had Sprite but she couldn’t replace you.”
“I am sorry. I regret leaving you more than you know. I went looking for you once.”
Another laugh escaped red painted lips. How sentimental.  Y/N pushed him, so he sat in a chair in front of her desk. It was her turn to make him feel little. Their faces inches apart.
"Pray tell me when did you look?”
“When you sold your pin to the man for the dagger.” His fingers traced the weapon that sat on her upper left thigh. She grabbed his hand and placed it back on the armrest.
“Then you what left?” 
“Yes, because you didn’t seem like you wanted anything to do with me. You sold something I gave you.” Druigs voice raised.
“I sold it because I thought I heard you, and I guess I did. But my heart hurt, and I decided I didn’t want anything of yours to remind me you left! You- you ignorant ass hole.”  Y/N yelled out. She tried not to hurt him. If it was anyone else, she would have. She moved her head to the side, refusing to look at him.
Druig used a finger to guide her face back to him.  Her eyes were glassy as he stared into them. There were no words he could say to make it better.
“Why couldn’t you have been fake? Just another hallucination.” She mumbled, and he barely heard. His brow rose.
“You hallucinated me?”
“Yes, the worst one was during World War 2. My nursing tent I was working in was attacked, and I thought I was dying. You were there. I wanted to die honestly, but I was saved and sent home where Ajak healed me.”
Y/N backed away. Sitting on top of her desk again. She wiped away the stray tears before looking back at him.
“Anyway, why are you here? You don’t care about the senator I allegedly killed.”
"We need your help.”
Druig told her everything Sersi told him. How Ajak and Gilgamesh died, and why being sent here was a lie. Y/N did cry for the fallen. Telling Druig lying wasn’t funny, but he promised he was not lying. This time, he wiped away her tears and stroked her back, soothing her the best he could.
After a moment, he explained the plan to her.
“We need you, Y/N.”
"No. Screw your precious humans, Dru. I hope they all die." He flinched. Sprite was right. This was going to be hard. He sat back down in front of her.
"I'm dealing with shaking the Spiderman and other avengers off my trail. if we all die, so be it."
“Sunshine…”
There was a knock at her door cutting him off.
"Come in.”
The person looked at Druig and hesitated.
"It's ok to speak freely he is not a threat."
"The sparrow's youngest son is here to make a deal."
"Bleh him again. He is just in love with me, you know. What kind of deal?"
" To give you the evidence he has that proves your gun shipment is illegal. In exchange for a hit on his brother."
"I don't get involved with a family business. You know this, Loretta. The evidence he has is useless it proves nothing."
" You may want to talk to him. It's bad."
"Show Druig out. I will meet with our guest."
"No, I will wait. We need to finish talking Y/N."
"You guys are more than capable of doing it yourself. I have a business to run.”
“Please.” Druig’s voice cracked, and Y/N’s heart clenched. He sounded broken.
“I need someone to fill in for my right-hand man as they are busy. Come with me and then we will talk." He still held power over her. She did not want to admit it after all this time.
“Loretta, you can send him in here. Give 3 min to fix myself, and we are good to go.”
Y/N picked up the glass pieces from the floor and wiped any may up streaks off her face. Druigs eyes followed her, not sure what to do anymore.
“Y/N sweetheart. I have missed you." A new voice spoke as they came into the room. She sighed. This was a long night. Druig flinched at the nickname.
“Let me make it short since you are busy. I have your people on the pier with the crates, and I want you to kill my brother so I can take charge. We will not start a war with you.”  The man plopped down next to Druig. His eyes never left Y/N.
“Let me think about it and talk to my people before I make decisions, ok?”
“I will give you 4 days before I have the Avengers here.”
Druig squinted at the man who was so brazen to throw threats around. He was tempted to use his powers and throw the man out of the room, but he stopped himself. This was Y/N’s fight. The two exchanged more words before he left.
Y/N sighed and sat back down. She stared at the blue-eyed man in a leather jacket that brought some feeling back to her.  She thought of every outcome if she followed him.
Druig stood up and walked so he was in front of her. He took his hand out of his pocket, and she saw a flash of gold. He placed whatever it was in her hair before kissing her forehead and left.
She touched the thing. It was the butterfly pin. Y/N thought it was gone forever. He was truly there that day. Y/n ran down the hallway chasing him.
“Fine I will help.”
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chubbyreaderchan · 2 years
Text
We Aren’t A Joke | Poly!Lost Boys x Plus Size! G/N Reader
Warnings: Fatshaming, self-hatred, touchy vampires, nothing else. They/them pronouns but can be read as any gender really, no editing,  
A/N: This might end up being its own little thing because there’s more I want to write but this just needed out of my head. I think I want to have blurbs with this reader and the boys and such. 
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The boardwalk was practically empty. The holiday season had passed and the lull between Christmas and spring break was in full swing. David was in an almost trancelike state, staring at no one, in particular, his belly was warm and full from the hunt the night before. Truly, a night of relative quiet for the rowdy bikers.
David tossed his cigarette over the side of the pier into the water below, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Paul.
“Holy shit,”
David looked at Paul and then in the direction he was staring, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. The cool wind picked up just then and he had to hold back an animalistic groan at the smell that washed over him.
Hell, he could practically feel all of his mates grumbling at the smell. David hadn’t realized he’d shut his crystal blue eyes until they fluttered back open to see what he knew was the next member of their little family.
He wanted them. He wanted them… now.
They hadn’t even looked at him and his boys, their plump little future mate was enticed by a table of trinkets. David couldn’t resist raking over their sexy body, taking in each soft curve and dip. Cute. Very cute. They were in a thick sweater, one much too big on them which was only slightly disappointing for David, hugely disappointing for Paul who was practically bouncing to get to them.
In fact, David watched as Paul bounded over like a golden retriever.
“Hey, sugar,” he said into their ear. “You all alone tonight?”
They backed up in surprise and glanced behind Paul at the other boys who were watching in love-sick awe. David could hear their heart race.
“I’m not interested,” they said quickly.
Paul looked like he was gut punched.
“Aw, come on babe. We can go for a ride. Get something to eat,” He almost sang out.
David had a feeling he should have been the first one to talk to their mate, not Paul. David and the other boys began to close in on the two.
“I just don’t want to be a part of… whatever this is… joke… dare…. Whatever.”
“Joke,” David seethed. “You think we’re a joke,”
They bit their lip. “Not necessarily you. I’m the butt of the joke here,”
Dwayne looked at them, thinking. He had a bad feeling about this whole situation, and he could feel the radiation of rage off of Marko. All of them would fight for any of their mates, but Marko was always the first to jump in. Swing fists and fangs and ask questions later.
“We just want to get to know you, sugar. You are just… irresistible,” Paul smiled. “At least tell us your name?”
Despite their better judgment and past experience in these situations, they gave in.
“I’m…(Y/n),” they said awkwardly. “And I don’t want to be part of the ‘dare the friend to ask out the fat person’ game,”
They were getting frustrated; they could feel their usual reaction starting to build. They could all feel it. David moved, pushing Paul back and running a leather-clad hand over their plush cheek. His blue eyes felt like they were reaching inside their soul.
“Sweetheart,” he said, leaning into their ear. “I promise we aren’t going to hurt you,”
His breath was cold, or perhaps the night chill got to them. They tucked their hands around their middle, trying to shield themselves from the cool Santa Carla wind.
“Come on, princex,” David encouraged.
He had them, he just needed to pull them in.
“I-I don’t even know you,” they said with a soft sigh.
They pulled back from David’s grasp, causing him to growl slightly. He didn’t like that. Not at all, even if it’s just from some silly human insecurity. They belonged to him and his boys, they were going to keep them if he had to drag them back to the cave by force.
“I’m Dwayne,” spoke the quietest. “That is David. Marko. And Paul. We promise we aren’t going to hurt you, princex,”
His words were so sincere. The way he looked at them made their heart flutter.
They sighed, defeated. Marko smiled approaching them and throwing an arm around them in whatever way he could reach. His fingers pressed into their soft flesh and he wanted to die at the softness. Hell, he would die for their softness, and he barely knew them.
“Dove, we are going to keep you safe,” the cherub said.
“I’m sorry, but how often do four very beautiful men come up to a fat person and really want to be around them… in any capacity? I don’t want to be abandoned in some parking lot in the middle of nowhere just because it’s funny to mess with ‘piggy’” they air quoted.
“The fuck?” Paul said loudly.
“Yeah, what the actual fuck. Who did that?” Marko was gripped onto them tighter, almost bruising the soft flesh.
David snaked his arm around them nudging a silently protesting Marko away. They began to walk, their human in the middle as they flanked them.
“Why don’t we go for a ride, kitten? I’ll prove that we want nothing but the best for you, sweetheart,” David promised. “You’ll ride with me,”
“Ride?” they were in front of four motorcycles that seemed to reflect each boy’s personality. “Oh, I’ve never--,”
A gentle pinch at their ribs caused them to squeak adorably, Marko walked around them with a smirk.
“Don’t worry, it’s fun.” The smallest of the group said.
He had a devilish grin that (Y/n) couldn’t help but find heart-meltingly cute. Without warning, David wrapped his arms around their middle, as if they had been dating for years and it was the most natural thing.
“I promise to keep you safe, just trust me,”
The scruff of his facial hair rubbed against their tender skin, and they could have sworn the bleach blonde took in a deep breath of their scent.
David mounted his bike and held out his hand to help them onto the back of his. Once on, he grabbed their hands and forced them to press directly against his back wrapping their arms firmly around his middle.
They just felt… right.
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bad268 · 1 year
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Could u write a princess of Monaco and Arthur lecrelc , I see this being written so much for Charles and none for Arthur
thank you :)
Queen of Monaco (Arthur Leclerc X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3
Requested: Clearly (haha we have the same mind bc I was already drafting this before you requested it)
Warnings: death of parents and brother (mentioned), google translate, the Monaco curse is affecting Arthur now and that's a warning itself bro. I am in denial about the race results today, so I made this to make me happy.
Pronouns: She/Her
W.C. 4108
Summary: The beginning of the relationship between Arthur Leclerc and the Queen of Monaco.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(@/Arthur's insta from January 29, 2023)
It was a normal day in Monaco. It was not a race week, and there were no pressing matters to attend. I had just returned to Monaco last week after attending the Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the United States, but I just received my Bachelor's degree and wanted to return home before starting my Master's. I decided to take my first semester online, so I could go home and spend time with my family.
When I got back, my parents urgently began to train me for the throne even though I was not next in line. Despite having an older brother who was scheduled to become the King of Monaco after my parents, he had to serve in the military before he could move forward. They wanted to have me prepare in the event that something happened to him in battle. 
I had never really been in the public eye due to my brother being the next in line. He was always the one attending meetings, trainings, and keeping up appearances. I was free to do as I pleased for the most part, but in 2015, they sent me to a training school in London. It taught the basics of monarchy and the foundations of how to run a country. It was the same one my brother attended. Even in my spare time, I found my passion in mechanical engineering and aerodynamics. It took some persuasion, but my parents allowed me to attend MIT after my graduation because they were so sure that I would not be needed. My brother is in the final stages of the training. All he needed to do was finish the last few months of military training, and then he would be crowned. 
Upon my return, I learned that my mother was ill, so they wanted to get my brother crowned quickly. However, they practically had to start from square one since I was provided very minimal training in London. My father was furious, not at me, but at the situation they had been placed in. They told me the best thing I could do while they prepare the training is to memorize Monaco as it had been nearly seven years since I had been here. 
I was walking down the pier, looking at all of the little shops that lined the pavement and the boats at the dock. There was a small ice cream shop, a couple of clothing stores, a few restaurants, and a salon. I realized that I had not had my hair professionally done since before college, so I thought it would be a good idea to treat myself.
“Bonjour, comment puis-je vou aider? (Hello, how can I help you?)” A lady greeted me as I stepped through the door. It was a small shop, no one else was in there, but it was cute and welcoming other than the fact that I could not remember French for the life of me.
“I’m sorry, my French is no good,” I replied sheepishly, fully prepared to leave, but the woman stopped me.
“Oh, not a problem, dear. My name is Pascale, what can I help you with?” She smiled, kindly, leading me over to one of the chairs. 
“Well, I haven’t gotten my hair done in almost four years, so I think it’s time to freshen up,” I explained. 
“Oh perfect, I can most certainly help with that,” She laughed, placing an apron around my shoulders. “Are you thinking about dye, highlights, trim, cutting…” She started listing more but I couldn't follow along with all of the terminology. 
“Uh, probably just a trim,” I chuckled, “my parents would kill me if I showed up with short, dyed hair.”
“Not a problem at all,” she grinned and began cutting the ends, little by little, as we made small conversations. “What do you do for work?”
“I actually don’t have a job at the moment,” technically, “but I just came back from the United States. I was at MIT for the last four years, getting my bachelors in mechanical engineering and aerodynamics, and before that, I attended boarding school in London.”
“That’s interesting,” she hummed, “Sounds like you like Formula 1?”
“Not so much the races. I just like the cars,” I laughed in response. “I like learning what could make the cars better, faster, stronger, and safer, but the actual races aren't something for me. I watched one too many accidents end badly, so I can never find enjoyment in it anymore. The last race I went to was in Japan, and I lost my best friend.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about that, dear. If you ever need to talk, I’m here,” Pascale consoled. I looked at her confused through the mirror. She just set the scissors down just as her phone got a notification. She pulled out her phone and opened the notification. It was a text message with a picture. “That is my son, Charles, and his best friend, Pierre. They’re in Formula 1. They went out karting today, and he just sent me this.”
“Oh, Charles Leclerc and Pierre Gasly! I know them,” I recognized immediately. “That’s your son?”
“Yeah, he’s always had this passion for driving, so I’m proud to see him living his dreams,” She smiled, putting her phone back, and resumed cutting my hair.
“Well, I’m proud of him too, and I don’t even know him.” I laughed. 
“Maybe, if you’d ever change your mind, you could join us for a race,” Pascale offered. “Only if you’re up for it.”
“I’ll have to see, but probably not,” I declined nervously. 
“It’s not a problem, dear,” She said, patting my shoulders. “But you are all done. How do you like it?”
My hair was shorter by a couple of inches, but it felt so much lighter and healthier than it did earlier today. “I love it so much, Pascale! Thank you so much! How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing, just promise you’ll think about joining us? It would do you some good to get to know more people, and you could even check out the cars before the race! If you’re not comfortable staying for the race, you can always leave. Just promise you’ll think about it before immediately rejecting it?” She pleaded.
“Fine, I’ll think about it,” I laughed, “but only because you were so persuasive!”
The next time I was out in the streets was nearly a week later. My time was being packed with different trainings and attending private events, but nothing public yet so as to not stir up controversy. I decided to go to a local bakery and get some tea and some food. The food in the castle just did not compare to my favorite bakery. Not by a long shot. 
When I walked in, there were not a lot of people in there. It was a small shop with only two tables and a counter. There was the person behind the counter, Ella, and three people at the tables. One sat by himself and the other two occupied the second table. I approached Ella and ordered a tea and sandwich. She said she would bring it right over once it was finished, and I approached the man sitting by himself.
“Bonjour,” I greeted, my French was slowly coming back to me but not enough to carry a full conversation. The man looked up from his phone at me. He had blue eyes and shady blonde hair. He had airpods in and took one out as I approached the table. “My name is Y/n. Would it be alright if I sit with you? The other table is filled.”
 “Of course,” He responded immediately, moving the bag that was hanging on the other chair to the floor. “I’m Arthur.”
“Nice to meet you, Arthur. Thank you for letting me sit with you,” I laughed, taking the seat that he pulled out for me. “I really appreciate that.”
“It’s my pleasure,” He chuckled along, “It was just empty anyway.”
~
That was the start of an inseparable bond. It was strange having someone so close again because even though I had some friends in school, they were never as close as Arthur was. For the first couple of months, any time that was not filled with training was spent with each other. Whether it be chilling in his apartment, driving around Monaco, boat rides, and random trips around France and Italy, we were content with doing random acts of entertainment. It didn’t take long before he asked me to be his girlfriend.
One thing we knew would be difficult is the time commitments. With his recent change from Formula 3 to Formula 2 and more royal training for me, we knew it was going to be more time-consuming. That didn’t stop us, however. Tuesdays were the most random day of the week, but neither of us had any responsibilities.
One day in particular, the day before he was set to go to Australia, we were at his apartment, and I was helping him pack since he *conveniently* forgot. We had gone to get smoothies and acai bowls earlier that morning before heading to his apartment. Then, after we ate, we put on some music as background noise while we packed and conversed back and forth.
“Would you ever come to a race with me?” He asked as he pulled a couple of shirts out of his closet. “I know you didn’t have a good experience at the last one, but would you be willing to give it another time?”
“I don’t know, A. I get anxiety just knowing you’re racing,” I explained. Moving to fold the shirts he’s pulling out. 
“That sound like an improvement!” He laughed, jumping over and wrapping his arms around my shoulders as I put the folded clothes in the suitcase. “When we first started talking, you said no immediately. Now, you’re saying you don’t know.”
“What can I say?” I leaned back into his embrace, “You are pretty persuasive.”
“What are the chances of you coming to the Monaco Grand Prix with me?”
“The odds are in your favor since I don’t go anywhere,” I laughed in response. He turned me around in his arms. He was pouting and had his head tilted slightly. “No, don’t do the puppy face. You know I can’t say no to that face.”
“Please?”
With a heavy sigh and a joking eye roll, I caved. I was about to vocalize my decision, but my phone started ringing. This time, my sigh was out of annoyance after seeing it was from Mila, my personal guard and trainer.  “I need to answer that, but yes, I promise to go to the Monaco Grand Prix with you.”
“Of course,” He exclaimed, kissing me all over my face. “I will take care of everything. You go take the call, and I’ll finish packing in here.”
With a small smile, I walked out of his bedroom to the living room and stepped out onto the balcony before answering the phone. “Hi, Mila. What did I forget?”
“Nothing, but are you near the palace?” She responded. Just the tone of her voice made me nervous.
“Not really, I’m about 20 minutes away. Do I need to head back?” 
“Yes, let me know when you get here.” And with that, she hung up. I walked back in to see Arthur with his suitcase fully packed by the door.
“I need to head home,” I started. “Something’s not right.”
“That’s fine,” He reassured, pulling me into a hug. “I’ll need to head out for my flight soon anyway, so I’ll walk you to your car.” 
During the drive back, my mind wandered. Was there a meeting I missed? I couldn’t remember having anything scheduled on a Tuesday. Most meetings were on Mondays or Wednesdays and policy training sessions were Thursdays and Fridays. Maybe there was a last-minute meeting.
Pulling through the gates, I texted Mila once I parked in our car park, and a few guards were waiting for me. “Hi, what did I miss?”
“Y/n, we need to talk,”  one of the guards, Chris, said, and right then, I knew things were worse than I thought. We walked through the corridors to reach one of the meeting rooms, but the only person in there was Mila. The guards immediately turned around and left the room.
“Mila-”
“Have a seat,” She cut me off, gesturing to the seat next to her. I took it hesitantly as I looked at her skeptically. “So, I’m not going to beat around the bush with this. As you know, your mother, the queen, was sick.”
“I assume she died then? That’s what this was for?” I cut her short. However, there was something on her face that said she wasn’t finished. “Okay, I’ll let you continue.”
She shook her head dismissively, “No, it’s fine, but you’re right. She passed away early this morning.”
“So my brother will be crowned when he comes back?”
“That’s the next news,” Mila paused. I encouraged her to just rip the bandaid off because I was getting impatient. “Your father went to the base to get your brother, but there was an explosion. There was a gas leak, and somehow the building they were in exploded. We’re still waiting on the details.”
“Wait, so my entire family…” I trailed off, but she knew where I was going. She just nodded solemnly as she pulled me into her side. “So that means…”
“It means you are to be the queen.”
~
Third POV
Ever since the Melbourne Grand Prix, Arthur has been talking about how his girlfriend was going to join him on the paddock for the Monaco Grand Prix. To say that his friends and brothers teased him would be putting it lightly. Any chance they could, they asked questions about this “girlfriend” of his that they had never heard of, and Arthur was willing to spill all of the details. On the Thursday before the Monaco Grand Prix when he was driving to the track with Charles, he accidentally let it slip that he actually had not heard from her recently. He asked Charles to check his phone to see if she had texted him recently.
“Wait, you haven't heard from her in over a month and you’re not at all worried?” Charles asked, very concerned for someone he’s never met.
“No, we’ve definitely texted recently,” Arthur responded in disbelief. When they pulled up to a red light, Charles showed him that the last message from her was April 1. “No, we’ve definitely talked.”
“Here, pull over. We’ll switch, so you can call her, and I’ll drive us the rest of the way to the track,” Charles said, already getting out of the car as soon as they were on the shoulder. He immediately dialed her number, and after a few rings, it went to voicemail. He thought about leaving her a voice message, but she was already calling him back before he could start.
“Hey, traffic is hideous, but I’m almost there,” She started her explanation. She was sitting in the backseat with a couple of guards, and Mila as her driver took them to the track. “Are you already there?”
“No, we’re not there yet,” he laughed. “Charles and I are still stuck in traffic, but we noticed that I hadn’t messaged you since the Australian Grand Prix. Thought I would call to see if you were still coming.” Charles was half listening to the conversation, but he was smiling to himself, hearing how lovestruck his younger brother sounded.
“Oh, definitely,” She chuckled. Mila nudged the girl with a knowing grin. “I’ve just been insanely busy recently, but I promised. On the bright side, I finished my training!”
“No way, I’m so proud of you, ma chéri!” Arthur cheered. Charles was a little confused as he pulled into the track, but let it go, knowing Arthur would explain it later. “Does that mean there will be a ceremony or something?”
“You could call it a ceremony, yes,” She giggled. She noticed that they were only a few blocks away from the car park of the track, so she turned her phone away toward her shoulder as she directed a question to Mila, “Could I jump out and meet up with Arthur before the race? I promise I’ll be careful, and I’ll be in the box before it starts.” Mila turned to discuss it with one of the guards who was entirely against it. “Please, I won’t leave Arthur’s side, and you know he’s trustworthy.”
“I won’t let her out of my sight, Mila!” Arthur’s voice could be heard through the phone despite it not being on speaker. She gestured to the phone at her shoulder as Mila tried to reason with the guard.
“I’ll go with you,” Mila said as she started collecting their passes and jumping out of the car that was stopped in the traffic going into the parking lot. Y/n immediately climbed out of the back, pulling her phone back up to her ear.
“Alright, Arthur, where do you want us to meet you?”
~~
First POV
“You seem to have gotten shorter since Melbourne,” I laughed as I ran into Arthur’s arms from where he was waiting at the Dams garage. 
“You’re wearing heels,” he pointed out after we pulled away. “What are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”
“You say that like you don’t like me in heels,” I teased back.
“Ok, lovebirds,” Mila pulled our attention away from each other, “I am going to head up to our seats. Don’t tell anyone I left.”
“Your secret’s safe with me. Thank you, Mila,” I responded as she started walking away.
“You have seats?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to rely on you for the passes for Mila, so she bought us hospitality seats,” I explain. It wasn’t the whole truth, but I could not just tell him that in the open. “Is it possible to talk somewhere away from the cameras?”
“You’re not breaking up with me, right?” He immediately jumped to conclusions.
“No, no, no, no,” I quickly shut down. “Je t’aime trop pour partir, mon amour. I just want to tell you something. (I love you too much to leave, my love)”
“Je t’aime, ma belle, (I love you, my beauty)” He whispered, pulling me in for a light kiss before leading me back towards the driver’s room he shares with Ayumu. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I took a seat on one of the beanbags as Arthur sat right next to me. I took a deep breath before deciding the best way to tell him was just to say it fast. “Arthur, I need to tell you about my family.”
“Are you trying to have me meet your family already? You could meet my brothers and maman today if you want,” He rambled.
“I can meet them, but you won’t be able to meet my family. That day you left for Australia was the day I found out they passed away.” I paused looking at his reactions. He looked sorrowful as he grasped my hands and ran his thumbs across the backs of my hands. “Maman had an illness, and papa went to get my brother from the base.”
“Your brother’s in the military?” He asked.
“Was,” I answered. He looked even more confused at that before I continued. “He was serving in the military as his last stage of training. Kind of like my trainings, he had to serve in the military.”
“What kind of training did you need to do? Was this part of your degree or something?”
“No, that’s the big secret I haven’t been able to tell you,” I whispered, putting my head down as I felt guilty for not explaining this sooner.
“Anything you have to say, I will accept you either way,” He reassured me as he pulled me into his chest and kissed my head. “I understand that you have your reasons for hiding some things, so whatever this is, it is not going to stop me from loving you.”
“What if it is complex with more spotlight than you already have?” I asked, throwing my head to rest on his shoulder and looking into his blue eyes. “What if it’s a big change?”
“When we go public, it will be a big change, but I’m willing to do anything for you, ma princesse.”
“Reine, (Queen)” I whispered.
“Quoi? (What)” He responded just as fast.
“What if I told you my parents were the king and queen of Monaco? And my older brother was the prince of Monaco? And now that they’re gone, I will be the queen of Monaco? What would you do?” 
He went silent for a few seconds before whispering, “Are you serious?” My silence was enough of an answer for him to jump up, pulling me with him as he starts laughing and spinning us in circles. He set me down after a couple of spins before holding me at arm's length,  “I would completely understand. I mean you probably didn’t plan on taking the throne because of your brother, and you’d just come back from studying. I only tell people who need to know, and when we met, I wasn’t someone who needed to know. We haven't talked since you found out, so I could never be upset with something like that.”
“But now, if we tell people, you will be heavily scrutinized as people will see you as a potential king,” I signed, happy to know he isn’t upset with me, but still wanting him to see all sides before completely agreeing to move forward. “You’d have more on your list.”
“The only question I would have is if it would interfere with racing,” He turned serious.
“I would never let them keep you from your passions,” I laughed. “They have to respect it by order of the queen.”
“Well, then I would see no issues against continuing to be by your side, ma reine,” he chuckled with a mocking bow.
“Merci mon beau prince, (Thank you my handsome prince)” I mocked back, “now by order of the queen, go win this race.”
~~
“And Arthur Leclerc passes Fredrik Vesti in the final turn of the race,” Crofty shouted over the radio during the final lap of the race. I was up in the hospitality seats with Mila and the guards but headed down to the pitlane a couple of laps before since I was going to be presenting the trophies. I was standing at the pit wall with Charles, Lorenzo, and Pascale, who I met (again) just before the race. “The Monaco Curse is broken for Arthur Leclerc as he wins his first Monaco Grand Prix!”
 I left the pit wall to meet everyone at the podium and stopped to meet up with Mila on my way over. She and the guards escorted me through the crowds. “I’ll tell you now, one of you will need to tell Arthur not to out our relationship when I give him his trophy.”
At the podium, I stood behind the steps as Alice announces the winners. “In third place, we have Théo Pourchaire! In second place, we have Frederik Vesti! And in first place, breaking the Monaco Curse, the home favorite, Arthur Leclerc! Presenting the trophies today is the future Queen of Monaco, Y/n.”
“I’m proud of you,” I said to Arthur as I handed him the trophy.
“Merci, now if only Charles could win,” He joked, taking the trophy and posing with it.
“I’ll tell him you’re talking crap about him,” I teased back, moving away to grab the next trophy for Dams. I handed them all out and expressed my congratulations to the other two drivers before posing for the picture and immediately ducking back as I knew Arthur would try to spray me. I walked down the stairs to meet up with Charles before he heads back to Ferrari for his own race. “Arthur’s talking shit about you. You better win.”
“I’m starting sixth, so we have hope,” Charles responded as he rolled his eyes.
“Just don’t box for hards at the last lap again and you’ll be fine,” I laughed as if it were really that simple. 
“Maybe I broke the curse for both of us or maybe I just had some good luck today,” Arthur said, coming up behind us and throwing his arm around my shoulders.
“Oh yeah, what good luck did you have?” Charles teased, punching Arthur into me.
“Maybe just the future queen of Monaco.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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absolutebl · 5 months
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And the 2nd part is that I was at the Italian fanmeet and noticed that when Khaotung is referring to himself instead of using Pom he often uses his name while First if I heard correctly either uses pom or nothing (if that is even possible). So I was also wondering about your opinion on that. Because to me as a person not even close to understanding Thai it reads more cute than anything really. 🫣😅 Thanks so much if you're taking the time to answer. 🫶🫶
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Khaotung when referring to himself often uses his name.
First either uses pom or nothing.
First and Khao are line mates (1998, only a month or so apart) and also about the same career timelines, which means they are both age & professional piers. Equals.
The use of own name is a bit cute, but Khao is cute, and he plays to that as part of his brand, both with First and his previous pairings. I'm not surprised. First is a little less cute (or at least, when opposite Khao, he is that way) hence his use of pom or nothing.
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I wouldn't be surprised if they use informal with each other in private (off screen). But on circuit? Certainly NOT.
These two are good polite GMMTV boys and they always act that way in public. (Unlike some of the OGs. New slips into rude a lot, Tay's all over the damn place as per usual. So is Krist.) FirstKhao are very on point with their promo and very professional about their publicity.
Essentially, what you are hearing is standard informal but polite language between friends and piers in public. Because the pairs are branded with seme/uke leanings this adds another dimension to their promo language.
So in Thai there is a non-codified distinction between formal and polite. In BL you'll hear:
formal & polite (khun/name, nai/chan, younger: pom or name)
polite but not really formal (age gap: pom/phi or even hia, piers: pom/name)
formal but not polite - careful there's implied intimacy in this one, it's old fashioned, and because of that when misapplied can be quite insulting (rao/ter, nong+name/phi, and a few other iterations)
and rude (guu/mueng) which is neither formal nor polite.
All of these can be mitigated by polite particles.
On circuit you will always hear the boys using krap. So for what we see IRL on screen connected to BL promos, particles aren't in play. But in Thailand (in my experience on the ground) ha is super commonly used with friends and family, and ja within the queer community.
Which brings us to the 5th option "curt" which leaves off the polite particles and can leave off pronouns altogether and is basically not formal and also not "really" polite, but not all the way to rude. Usually only heard in males older than their conversation partner (Dean) or older childless females in positions of authority and genderfluid characters like June in Love Area.
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Okay, I got a flight to catch!
Bye for now. Hope this makes sense.
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pupsmailbox · 5 months
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KNIGHT ID PACK
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NAMES ⌇ alexander. anders. arcanelle. arthur. chase. chastity. chevalier. chevaliesse. clemens. clemensa. clotilde. cydonia. cydonie. cyrene. drake. emerson. essex. everett. everette. griffin. ivoire. ivon. ivonne. jean. karma killian. knightly. lance. lancet. lancette. lawrence. lizbet. locket. lockette. lou. lucia. lucius. maddox. marcia. odin. orion. phoebe. pieta. pietouse. rita. serafin. sinclair. temperance. troy. valerie. vernon. victor. virtuesse. wyvern.
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PRONOUNS ⌇ av/ave. ave/ave. ay/em. blade/blade. crest/crest. dawn/dawn. dey/dest. dusk/dusk. faith/faith. fi/fight. fight/fight. grace/grace. hawk/hawk. hou/hound. hound/hound. hy/hym. joust/joust. knight/hood. knight/knight. medi/eval. medieval/medieval. ne/nym. noble/noble. oak/oak. pier/pierce. pierce/pierce. pure/pure. sa/sai. sai/sai. sav/vior. savior/savior. shar/sharp. sharp/sharp. shield/shield. sil/ver. silver/silver. steel/steel. sword/sword. tar/target. target/target.
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future-crab · 1 year
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People who insist on changing the pronouns in songs while they’re singing along are so weak. “But I’m not gay!” Okay?? And I’m not a broken man on a Halifax pier, the last of Barrett’s Privateers, but for the length of this song I can be.
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