#we have a hundred years of war to settle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months

Text

For the Love of God(dess) || CL16 {2}

Summary: Greek God/dess AU. You show Charles a part of your world and he shows you a part of his. Warnings: angst, fluff WC: 2.6k Part One || Two

The old stone path should have been worn for all the centuries that it had been used as the entrance to Olympus but it was still as perfect as it was the first time you walked it. Nothing ever changed, not since the war ended and a new hierarchy settled among the gods. For two thousand years nothing had changed in the Eternal City.

“Love, what have you done?” The imposing form of Ares filled the road to your temple, his arms the size of your waist. His molten red eyes barely glanced at the man at your side before snapping back with a double take. “Kàrolos?”

“Uh, so everyone keeps saying,” he answered quietly, his eyes sizing up the God of War as he spoke for the first time since arriving through the portal. “And you are?”

“Intrigued,” Ares said with a smirk. “Good luck.”

The god vanished and Charles rubbed at his head, murmuring, “Fucking weird dream.”

“You’ll wake up soon,” you sighed. It might not be the wake up he expected, but it was coming - you just had to find Athena. “I know someone who can help make sense of this, we just need to get you back to my place first. It’s right over h-” your words froze as turned towards your temple.

Where grey stone walls had stood, great white pillars of marble rose. Where empty garden beds lay, hundreds of white roses bloomed.

Your temple had been restored.

“This is your home?” Charles asked, a little awestruck by the sounds of it. It was quite amusing that he walked among the gods but he found beauty in a building of all things.

“Our home.”

“I have a home - in Monaco.”

You opened your mouth to argue but saw the quiet desperation in his features. He was clinging to his humanity and it forced you to remember that this wasn’t the Kàrolos you knew, this was a stranger. The only resemblance they held were their eyes, but they were the window to the soul and they still had the same soul.

“Let’s just go inside.”

The doors beyond the marble arch swung open on your approach and the interior had changed just as much. The vast room was open to the sunlight and a fountain filled the centre, the sound of bubbling water a calming feature. Open arches led to more rooms but you made your way to the furthest one.

Charles followed sedately into the bedroom and out onto the balcony that overlooked the city. Above rose the peak which Zeus had claimed, his golden palace glittering beneath Apollo’s sunshine. Below, the forests of Artemis spread far and wide with lush green canopies and the Orlias river winding through it.

Your palms warmed on the stone railing as you watched a herd of deer pick their way to the river for a drink. “I know you have a million questions and I’m sorry for…everything.”

Charles’ shoulder leaned into yours as he drank in the scenery but he jumped back when an owl swooped in, the spotted wings brushing his cheek. A flash of light burst from the owl and bare feet touched down on the balcony.

“Hmmm, you have had quite the night, Love,” she said with an appreciative look over Charles. She reached out to his face with a smile and wiggled her fingers. “May I?”

“Why? What are you going to do? Who are you?”

“So many questions,” she laughed. “I am Athena, I am knowledge, and if you want the answers then you will let me touch you.”

He looked to you for help and gods damned if it didn’t make something in your chest hurt before you nodded. He swallowed the fear of the unknown and trusted you as he stepped into her waiting hands. Lightning shattered his brain, blinding him with flashes of images that moved too fast to see. But he knew. Knowledge expanded and exploded in his mind at an exponential rate until he knew everything. Thousands of years of history burned into his retina in less than a second. The history of the gods and goddesses that called this place home. The history of the wars and the destruction it brought. The history of you and everything you lost.

He knew it all. And it hurt more than the pain that splintered his head.

He didn’t even realise he collapsed until he felt the softest mattress dip beneath his weight as you laid him down. Your concerned face appeared above him, the sun catching your hair and weaving a golden halo around the strands. A thought crossed his mind and he laughed, shaking his head.

“What?” you asked curiously as his fingers twitched like he had to fight the urge to reach out to you.

“When we met I thought you looked like a goddess, but of course you do. You are.” He looked to the balcony but the owl had already taken flight back to her palace on the hill. “I’m not him, you know.”

“I know.” The man you loved had died a long time ago. You had your time together, no matter how short, and you had mourned for him. It was time to move on. “I don’t want you to be Kàrolos. I want to learn who you are, Charles.”

“And what if you don’t like who I am?”

“I am the Goddess of Love,” you teased, climbing onto the bed to sit beside him. “My arrows don’t work unless there is compatibility between the souls. Psyche is probably better off explaining that but my power only amplifies what attraction is already there. Can’t say I have been on the receiving end of it before. This will take some getting used to.”

“What will?”

“The want, the need to touch you,” you confessed as you looked down at your hands that gripped the bedspread tightly. “It is difficult to be this close and not reach out.”

Charles frowned. “You loved Kàrolos but you didn’t use an arrow?”

“Not everyone needs an arrow to fall in love. Like I said, it only amplifies. People find love on their own everyday, only some need a little poke in the right direction. Those friends who have been dancing around each other for years, the abused who don’t think they are worthy of being loved, the colleagues who only flirt at work. The fates weave their tapestry with a trillion threads of life and when there is a snag, like two lovers who failed to meet, then I repair it so the loom can continue its creation.”

Charles blinked as he began to understand how complex the roles of the gods were. “Fuck.”

You laughed and his lips tugged up at the sound.

“I don’t mind, if you want to touch me,” he admitted quietly, reaching for your hand and unfurling it from the bedding. His hand was larger than yours but your fingers settled between his comfortably and your body sagged with relief. “So what do we do now?”

You shrugged, not exactly knowing the answer yourself. Time was plentiful so there was no rush, but you were eager to find out who it was your heart had been given to. “What do you enjoy?”

Charles’ smile dropped as he suddenly remembered the world he had left behind. “Shit, we need to go back. I have a race this week.”

–

“Breaking News: Peace had been brokered between nations all over the globe in a dramatic turn of events. For more information we will be heading to our correspondent at the United Nations HQ…”

Charles turned off the TV in the hotel but he didn’t miss the way your eyes remained fixed on the screen, or the way your lip wobbled. Crossing the room, he grabbed your hands and bent his knees so you were eye to eye. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my fault,” you whispered through the lump in your throat. “I failed my duties.”

He looked back at the TV where you could still see the breaking news. Peace had come after two thousand years of skirmishes and wars on the mortal plane. There should have never been wars to begin with.

“That isn’t your fault,” he argued, but he had the knowledge of the gods, he understood how your power worked. The gods were a fragile ecosystem that required balance. You were the balance to Ares’ power and his effect on the world.

“I was weakened when Kàrolos died, I lost half of myself, half of my strength. It left Ares unchecked - of course it is my fault.”

Charles wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck so you couldn’t stare at the TV. “You’re making things right now, that’s what matters.”

“It’s not even me,” you laughed bitterly. “It’s you. I couldn’t do this on my own.”

“Come on,” he said as he started to drag you towards the door.

“Where are we going?”

“You need a distraction, and I know just the thing.”

Charles drove to the circuit he would be practising on in the morning and it was relatively quiet as he led you through the paddock. A few teenagers excitedly asked for photos with him and you smiled as he stopped to talk with each one. He was so different to Kàrolos. Kàrolos was a warrior, proud and unmoving. Most children gave him a wide berth when they saw the scars that littered his body. It wasn’t in him to idly chatter or placate others, the only soft spot he had was for you.

“You’re very patient,” you commented as he waved goodbye and continued to the edge of the track.

He smiled shyly and looked at his shoes as he shrugged. “I try my best to talk to fans, especially when I have the time. Take a few laps with me?”

You followed his gaze to a Ferrari that was parked in the pit lane. “I’ve never been in a car.”

“No, really?” His eyes were wide with disbelief and you laughed at the innocence in those eyes.

“I go where I want, I’ve never needed to drive.”

He grabbed your hand and excitement flowed through you as he set a quick pace to the car. “Trust me?” he asked as he opened the passenger door.

You were immortal so it didn’t matter if he crashed. Sure, it would hurt but you would eventually heal. But the question felt heavier than just asking if you trusted him not to crash, more that you could trust him to keep you safe. “Yes, I trust you, Charles.”

You slipped into the seat that was moulded to cradle you before he bent down and buckled the clips in for you. His cologne reached your nose at the close proximity and you inhaled deeper as you committed the rich scent to your memory.

“Is this comfortable?” he asked as he tugged the harness.

“It is…managable.” Restrictive, confined, and claustrophobic came to mind but you didn’t want to worry him as he went around to his side. There was energy in his step that had been missing in Olympus, an ambience that brightened the moment he arrived at the racing track, and you wanted to keep that light in his aura.

“We’ll take the first one slow,” he promised as he started the engine and gripped the wheel.

You had flown into battle on the back of a pegasus, you had held onto the fins of charybdis as they raced through Posiden’s domain. Nothing came close to the thrill and the speed of Charles’ car.

Your heart jumped up your throat as you were thrown back into the seat and then the world around you blurred. Everything faded away except for the window ahead and you didn’t dare blink in case you missed a moment. There were no thoughts on the what ifs of the future, or the regrets of your past. There was only the car, and Charles grinning at you.

“Are you sure this is slow?” you asked with a giddy laugh as the adrenaline reached your head and the initial surprise was erased.

“Hold on, cherie.” The engine roared louder and like a beast it leapt forward. A scream of exhilaration filled the car as Charles lassoed the metal beast and wrangled it through each corner until he finally slowed to return to the pit lane.

“I finally understand the obsession,” you admitted as he parked back where he had left. Your fingers were almost stiff where they had gripped the harness over your chest and you flexed the feeling back into them before unbuckling it. “I can’t even describe it, but I feel alive - if that makes sense? I can’t think quite clearly now.”

“I understand.” Charles smiled softly and wiped away the stray tear that ran down your cheek from having your eyes wide open for so long. “It’s getting late.”

You climbed out of the car and looked up to see stars dotting the desert night sky. It felt like time stopped while you were in the car but nothing could stop time and it all came rushing back. “Can we do this again?” you asked, a little sheepish at how needy you sounded.

“Of course,” Charles promised, taking your hand as naturally as breathing. “After this race it’s winter break and I am all yours.” He stumbled and caught himself. “I mean, if you want to hang out and, uh, stuff. I don’t have any plans, but if you do we can figure something ou-”

You rose onto your toes and kissed his cheek that was turning pink in the moonlight and he fell silent. “I don’t have any plans either.”

Charles stared at your lips, still feeling the warmth on his cheek and he touched the skin as a smile tugged at his lips and he nodded to himself. “Okay. Okay.”

“You’re cute,” you said as you felt the urge to kiss his lips next.

His nose wrinkled at the compliment. “Cute?”

“Amongst other things,” you added, biting your lip to keep your other thoughts to yourself.

He grew confident and curled his finger under your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and pulling it free from your teeth. “You’re beautiful.”

Your lungs refused to work as his head dipped down slowly, giving you time to change your mind. You could still feel the remnants of that thrill in your veins and the charge was electric as you gave into your desire and threw your arms around his neck. The kiss started slowly, hesitation holding you both back as you tasted the chemistry, but it grew deeper as his arms curled around your waist, pulling your bodies flush.

The track faded away as you spared one last critical thought to teleport back to the hotel room. Charles blinked as he looked around the bedroom, but the surprise turned to a smirk. “That is handy.”

“You can do it too,” you said as your fingers traced the hem of his shirt. “You can just have to picture the image in your mind.”

Cold kissed your skin and you looked down to see your own shirt had disappeared.

“Holy shit, it worked,” he gasped. “Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your shirt returned in an instant but it was now the same shade of red as his team colours.

“I wasn’t complaining,” you smirked but the humour dimmed as his hands came to rest on your waist that was still wrapped in red cotton. “We can take it slow, Charles.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I want you, not your regrets. I want you to be ready.” Ready for an eternity together.

Charles sat at the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap. “The first thing you should know about me is I have never been good at going slow,” he admitted as he cupped your cheek and crushed his lips to yours.

#greek gods au #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

486 notes · View notes

owlf45 · 6 months

Note

romance me with mosquito facts

mosquitoes, when in a condensed enough space, sound like gentle rain.

i work with a specific mosquito species, called the aedes agypti, which carries diseases like dengue virus, west niles virus, and yellow fever. the males are generally smaller than the females, though emerge into adults sooner. you can tell the difference between males and females by the fluffy antennas of the males.

gay mosquitoes everywhere.

mosquitoes tend to be social, if stupid creatures. if you stick two mosquitoes alone in a cage, they probably wont chill (and wont mate). it's just not their style. this is especially frustrating when trying to set up specific genetic crosses.

although i never met them, there used to be a researcher at the lab who did the most batshit stuff. we keep our mosquitoes in mesh cages, so they can't escape but they can feed through the mesh (so we don't have to reach in and out of the cages and potentially let some loose). this old researcher used to grab the morning newspaper, roll up his pants, collapse in a chair and settle his calves over the mesh cages for literal thousands of mosquitoes to feed from him. for hours. i want to meet this man so bad.

mosquitoes are stupid and annoying and prone to killing themselves akin to a goldfish constantly getting stuck in a filter. but strangely enough, you grow to love them. they are simultaneously fragile and durable, easily discernible and difficult to hunt. you can tear their hind legs off and put them through shock a few times and they'll be fine, but a single finger will smush them (quite inconveniently, when you know that bitch could've moved!).

directly after bloodfeeding a female mosquito, if you kill her—often by clapping her directly between your hands (female mosquitoes are the only ones to bloodfeed)—the blood will still be warm.

although i dont screen larvae for traits as often as I used to (I tend to do more database/mosquito caretaking work now), certain gene-linked traits can be found physically in the larvae and pupae stages—sometimes they glow bright blue/green under fluorescent lighting, for example.

like I said though, i mostly work with caretaking. i do the bloodfeeding, i replace their food and water, and i make sure they're in good health and can lay eggs on a proper surface. the mosquitoes under my care live for about a month and a half, though if they're still alive by the time we need to hatch the next generation, we simply fridge them and kill them off. put mosquitoes in the fridge for a few minutes and they'll go to sleep. put them in for a few hours, and they'll usually die— we keep them in for 24 hours to make sure, though.

mosquitoes are difficult to contain. compared to other biochemistry departments, you have tiny creatures that are mobile and can fly, and can't always be seen by the average person unless they're specifically looking for it. I've worked in microbiology labs before, but if there was contamination, it was solely on the researcher. contamination from a loose mosquito is hard to track. this is all to say that I work in a bunker—double doors, minimal vents, no windows.

mosquitoes are the deadliest animals in the world. mosquitoes kill over a million people a year (hence my research). i sit in the back of the bunker sometimes, in the side warm room where we keep our cages of mosquitoes, hundreds of different genetically modified lines in progress at a time, and I have blood on my palms— blood that I fed to my subjects before I squashed them because they escaped from their cages, and I think about the fact that for over 200 lines of this species, I grow them from eggs to adults to death and hatch their offspring again and again and again. i think of lovecraftian horror and I hear gentle rain and remember images of war that keep me up late at night, and I wonder what's the point, for a few numbers in my bank account, and then another mosquito has gotten loose and lands on my arm and doesn't bite me, because it's already full; because i already fed it; because it's just looking for a small, dark place to rest in the folds of my jacket.

mosquitoes love to hide on black surfaces.

#my asks #ego cryptid tree

421 notes · View notes

adonis-koo · 7 months

Text

of bones and gods

Summary: in an act of keeping war from breaking, the Prince of Penumbra, Jeon Jungkook must journey to Eunoia to wed their Princess, in one final act of mourning his freedom the night before his wedding, he runs into the Queen of Eunoia

Genre: arranged marriage, enemies to lovers

Word count: 3k

Note: this is a lil drabble based it’s main story Wicked you can read this as a stand-alone though!

Jungkook had been dreading this day for as long as the news had permitted in the air, the day he would have to leave the comforts of his homeland and accept that he was soon to be shackled and forced into marriage with a woman he would never love.

The grip on his reigns were deathly tight, his knuckles white and an icy rage in his eyes that had never quite left since two years ago when his father announced that he would be wed to the princess of Eunoia, and a rite of peace would be settled to cease the five year war.

He had many thoughts about the war, he was relieved, happy even to hear that it would finally end, but at the expense of his own freedom and happiness left him mixed inside.

And then the rage, the hopelessness, the depression that the woman he loved would have to be subjected to his new wife.

It wasn’t fair to have this much resentment for someone he had never met, but he didn’t care, this woman was nothing short but the ire of all his problems.

The hoofs of his horse plotted on the ground in the sound of a drum, five hundred echoing not too far behind as precautionary measures of Eunoia would try anything.

Not that they would, Jungkook personally thought it was a bit much, they were pacifists by nature, not even participating in the five year war despite the other nations putting pressure on them. It was the reason his father had chosen them out of everyone.

“I will be glad when this headache is put too rest,” his father finally commented, having rode beside him the last few hours in silence, “We won’t be staying after the ceremony, there’s much too do in the kingdom once we get home.”

Jungkook said nothing, his anger still very much awake and burning.

His father glanced at him, “Come now, don’t be so sour, she’s pretty. And not nearly the headache Seohyun was. You couldn’t ask for a better wife.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” Jungkook hissed out, finally releasing his reigns to peel off his outer jacket.

Despite being early spring, he had taken note for the weather changes during their travels, in Penumbra, frost would still be on the ground. But here so close to Eunoia, it was warm out, buds were already on the tree’s and he could even spot wild flowers in groves of the valley.

And though he despised his soon to be wife and her people and this I sufferable wedding, Jungkook could not deny the peace he felt being on Eunoia’s grounds, he had never been here before, but he could see why it was called the Capitol of the Sun.

“Perhaps some gratitude that it could be worse is suitable.” His father commented, “I know you’ve despised this match from the beginning, and I don’t expect you to make a genuine attempt to make things work,” his fathers gaze darkened, “But I do expect you to uphold our family name, and above all else.”

“Protect the family,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“And soon, she will be one of us, whether you like it or not.” His father trotted ahead, sending a knight towards the soldiers behind to set up camp on the outskirts of the city.

Jungkook glared at his back but the loud noise of a horn took his gaze elsewhere, his eyes widening a little at the tall oak tree’s that lead into a forest. They would be arriving at the entrance of the capitol soon.

Jungkook slowly glanced around as he noticed people hidden in the groves and sloped hills slowly emerge.

Field workers, he thought, nothing short of curious as they all glanced at the passing of him.

Jungkook briefly wondered if he was in a dream though, women of all kinds, beautiful, some short others tall, thin or thick, freckles and darker warm skin, hair of bronze or birch, all in gowns short and skin on display.

Harlots. They’d probably be called in any other nation, he had heard of Eunoia’s primal customs, their way of life being looked down upon or considered indecent.

But here in Eunoia, these women were simply workers.

Baskets in hand filled with fruits, wheat or other foraged goods.

“Seems you’ve the pick of the lot for one last night of freedom.” Jeong Dae clearly noticed as well as he gave Jungkook a pat on the shoulder.

Jungkook only gave him a sullied look.

The only woman he wanted was the one he had to leave back in Penumbra.

The forest eventually opened into the field where the capitol was displayed, the sun shining it’s heavens upon its white cobble stone streets, vines growing off every house and flowers emerging from the place it could.

Jungkook couldn’t help but gawk around, his eyes intrigued with every inch they closed in on the castle, he knew it was a new land, but he had never been away from home, not truly, not unless it was to destroy another’s.

He never had the luxury of actually taking in another lands beauty before. And it was nothing like Penumbra, color flourished in every spot his vision could find, ivory that could never survive Penumbra’s cold climbed off every surface.

Stalls of trade had been set up and fountains poured where those gathered for water.

His brows furrowed as he watched a group of young girls play with long pieces of chiffon, some sort of dancing game as they waved the fabric in the air while singing.

Then his gaze set to two young boys, doing a dance of their own, this kind having to do with balancing on their hands, but they continue to fall over.

And eventually Jungkook’s eyes settled on the olden steps of the castle that lead to the courtyard, and upon entering it was just as angelic as the rest of its lands.

Vines bushes out hanging off parts of the upper rails, a large pond circled up ahead and the worn stone decorated the floors of the courtyard only adding to its beauty.

The man that stood behind it, his advisor behind him was the one Jungkook took note of.

Elisar stood calm, a face nothing short of welcoming as Jungkook and his father dismounted their horses.

“We welcome you to Eunoia, we’ve long since await this day and your arrival, there’s very few things left that need tending too.”

Dae Seong shook his hand firmly and Jungkook did as well next.

“We’ve all awaited this day, I’m ready for it to be done and over with truth be told, all this fuss just for a ceremony.” Dae Seong puffed.

Jungkook curiously watched for Elisar reaction, he knew his father rarely made friends.

Elisar only gave a small smile, “There is only but one day left to wait, thank the gods. Follow me please gentleman, I’ve made most arrangements in terms of the agreement for your access to the Noxtria mines, this should all be suitable but it would be best for you to read through it once more before signing.”

Jungkook briefly glanced around once more, light flowed in from every entrance and it felt like gold was spilling in bringing a certain warmth Jungkook didn’t think possible.

The guards ahead opened double doors as Elisar lead them in, “We of course, have plenty of time to discuss these matters later, aside, I’m honored for you to meet my wife Esme and my lovely daughter Y/n.”

Jungkook stood a little straighter, having known this moment would come whether he wanted it to or not.

‘She’s pretty’ his fathers words echoed in his head.

And here she was.

Y/n.

She was shorter then he anticipated her being, and it wasn’t his intention for his eyes to drop to her chest but her gown, truth be told was a risqué move even by Penumbra standards.

But seeing as her mother’s dress had a plunge in hers almost down to her mid stomach, this was very customary for Eunoian’s.

Still, her sleeves were flowing and long, leaves patterned on the sleeves, her shoulders exposed from the material and her neckline plunged dangerously low, a noticeable slit in the side of her dress, giving a small display of thigh if she shuffled.

She did that quite a bit.

His father wasn’t wrong, he begrudgingly thought.

She was very pretty.

Not just pretty, pretty was not a good description of it, it couldn’t describe the soul sucking beauty that radiated from her.

She had an ethereal kind of beauty, the kind that made it look as if her skin was glowing with light, flowers that could bud at her fingertips and eyes that burned with the fire of the sun, an otherworldly, primordial kind of beauty, the kind that men and gods would wage war over.

Jungkook couldn’t describe it.

In fact, lingering on trying to describe it made his lip almost twitch in annoyance.

Esme was graceful, a beautiful radiant smile on her lips as she spoke, “We welcome you to our home Eunoia! I’m sure the travel was long and taxing on you both, I do hope you enjoy our home, we look forward to the severed bonds of the past being repaired.”

It was silent only for a moment, but it was painfully loud as all eyes dropped to Y/n.

Too much fabric was in the way for Jungkook to really get a good look, but he thought for a brief moment he caught a glimpse of Esme twisting her daughters arm.

Who despite the raw energy her persona held, evidently was not nearly as well spoken nor graceful as her mother.

“It’s an honor to host for the royal family of Penumbra, I…” Her voice was a bit ragged, every word sounded like something was stuck in her throat, as if it was a genuine struggle to speak.

“look forward to our life together.” Y/n gritted her teeth, and Jungkook surely never heard a bigger lie in his life.

Her lips twitched as if resisting the urge to scowl as her eyes finally met his, as if left with no other choice but to acknowledge his existence.

Jungkook had seen this look before, it was a look he had received by many in his travels of diplomatic matters.

It made him want to scoff, what right did this woman have to judge him? Beauty or not it didn’t hide the fiery rage that roared behind her eyes.

Justice, or a lack thereof screaming in her face and haughtiness of presumption was evident in the way she held herself, as if she already knew him without so much as hearing a word from him.

It grated on Jungkook’s nerves, he held out his hand, feeling his fathers expectated gaze on him.

‘She will be one of us soon, whether you like it or not’

Her hand was much smaller, but surprisingly he was met with calluses of her own and briefly he wondered what she did to gain them.

Her nails had evidently been cleaned but he could still spot smudges of dirt beneath them that had evaded careful eyes.

He wasn’t sure how though, seeing as she was watching him like a hawk, her gaze was unwavering, refusing to back down or shy away from him as his own locked onto her, pressing a kiss against her knuckle, “Jeon Jungkook, the pleasure is ours.”

It felt like an electric current coursing through his body before the connect was snapped, her hand yanking away from him as if it had been burned.

Y/n’s smile was sharp, nothing less than unwelcoming, “The feeling is mutual.” It was said almost as a sneer.

The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they called her, and Jungkook could very clearly see why.

His father said she’d be less of a headache than his old fiancé, but somehow…His eyes followed her figure as she gave a courtesy and was escorted by a knight out of the room along with her mother, his eyes following her figure as the doors closed behind them.

Somehow, he truly doubted that was going to be the case.

This woman would surely give him a headache of a lifetime.

Jungkook sighed as he tipped the bottle of wine to his lips, groaning at how sickeningly sweet the Eunoian wine was.

It felt like a taste of heaven dripping on his lips, though he was did miss the sharper more dry taste of Penumbrian wine, tomorrow he would have to face his destiny and marry the bitch of Eunoia.

But tonight he would drink and mourn.

Glancing at his ceiling, it was high, beautiful sculpted of white speckled noxtria, it made him snort, how could Eunoia use the strongest rock and metal uncovered as decor?

It did make him curious about the castle though, sighing he stood up, a bit wobbly albeit but it was late into the night and he doubt anyone would give him grief.

Keeping the bottle in hand he decided to explore the castle, this was likely to be the only time he’d ever be in Eunoia, he might as well make it count.

Just as he assumed, with it being late at night and nobody gave him grief, the few servants still up gave deep bows and curtseys but made wide room for him.

He didn’t understand the looks of concern they gave but paid them no mind as he took another large drink from the bottle.

Rooms were lit with candles and glowed with colors and flora, beautifully sculpted and windows from floor to ceiling.

Some rooms even having windows on the ceiling, opening into the sky, he had never seen something like this before.

Through journeying around the castle he ended up on a lower level, the room was shaped in a dome and flora once again crawling from every surface and another room with a window on the ceiling, opening up into the moonlight where flowers slowly unfurled, at the center of the room was a large circle that opened into the ground and he recognized it was a white oak stump, the surface sanded as if crafted into a seat.

The curves of it however made it look odd, a top of it sat a crown- or something kin to it, a strong band- he realized was noxtria and a pair of buck antlers, large, thirteen points on each side.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

Jungkook jumped, clutching his bottle tighter as he whirled around, “Your Majesty…”

Esme only raised her brows a little, clearly amused at having caught the prince off guard, a smile on her face as he attempted to bow, “No need for that, wouldn’t want you to fall and be bruised for your wedding.”

Jungkook begrudgingly straightened, he wasn’t that drunk, “Why is her Majesty up so late?”

“Who isn’t up this late tonight?” Esme countered, slowly walking towards him, before brushing past him as she walked further, “Isn’t it beautiful though?” She asked but didn’t wait for an answer, “It was the crown my great grandmother Galadria wore for her coronation.”

She gestured upwards, Jungkook’s eyes lifted as he realized the large portraits that hung on the wall, the room was a dome shape and four hung halfway across the room.

His eyes wandered to each one, the most recent obviously Esme and Elisar, the portrait was regal, Esme clearly younger and wearing the crown, sitting upon the inner curve of the stump, and Elisar sitting on the actual seat. And then his eyes lifted to clearly her mother, and her mother before her.

All the way until the first portrait, Galadria, sitting alone, but her dress alone took up every space.

“Galadria hadn’t wed at the time until after she was queen. Still, there is something cathartic about her portrait,” Esme hummed in wonder, “I do hope you and Y/n will make a return within the year back to Eunoia to allow her to get her portrait done as well.”

Jungkook only leaned against the marble column, taking another gulp from his bottle as he said nothing in return, he wouldn’t make false promises, he had no intention of returning to this place so long as duty did not command it.

“My daughter…Y/n…I will warn you wicked Prince,” Esme slowly turned around, her dark eyes piercing him as she spoke, “She is not for the faint of heart. Her heart is tender and she has created walls of fire to protect it,”

She paused, taking a long look at him as if accessing him, “She will burn anyone who dares try to hurt her. So protect her.”

“Pardon?” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle at her words, shaking his head as he took another drink.

Esme glanced at his bottle before back at him, “It is any mothers wish for her daughter to be safe, do not take this as a command or I a queen, but as a mother.”

“With all due respect, I am not for the faint of heart.” Jungkook lazily leaned against the column once more.

Esme puffed a breath, “I am not worried whether my daughter can handle you, I am certain she will, it is you I worry for,” she folded her hands together, “Y/n is…she is a million souls of the lineage before her, she holds the wrath of a god in her bones,” Esme’s eyes grew cold, “And what are you? A prince who befell a misfortunate time to be alive?”

Jungkook glowered up from his bottle, “I am far more than what you and others say I am.”

Esme curved a brow, “Then I can only hope what you say is true. For Y/n will need that, whether she realizes it or not, she will need someone who will not be afraid of her, who will not let the flame of her soul consume them. Someone who will accept her as she is, I will not presume who you are, but I will put trust that you are not just merely a prince.”

Jungkook said nothing, eyes staying on her as he lifted the bottle to his lips.

“Do come and visit after you wed, I think you’ll fit nicely along the walls of our home,” Esme smiled, light lifting back to her face as she walked past him, snatching the bottle out of his hand, “Now go drink some water, I will not let either of you ruin your own wedding over foolishness.”

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts x reader #Jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #Jungkook imagine

671 notes · View notes

daycourtofficial · 7 months

Text

Use Somebody

Summary: you and Lucien have to pretend to be together, causing a fight between you and a certain shadowsinger. You discover too late that you’re a wanted aspect to an evil plot - can Azriel save you in time?

“We could have (y/n) and Lucien do it.” You overheard Rhysand saying as you walked into his study.

“You could have me and Lucien do what?” You ask, biting into your apple.

Rhys turns to you, tutting so you don’t bring your apple too close to his desk, “we need someone to attend a ball in the winter court. Azriel’s picked up some rumblings, and Kallias has asked if we could help. We’ll all be attending, but we need you and Lucien in particular to do some recon.”

You stop mid bite of your apple, still confused on the plan. “But Lucien and I aren’t spies, we’re just court nobility.”

“Which is why you two are perfect - you’re nobility to two different courts, autumn and dawn, so the two of you mingling wouldn’t be too suspicious. Plus the two of you are very good at socializing at these events.”

“So you want to send us to go to a ball to do what exactly?” The idea still making zero sense to you.

It’s Azriel who speaks up, “he wants you and Lucien to pretend to be together and get close to a few targets, see if you can find anything out.”

You look at Azriel, and he looks pissed. You’re not sure if it’s because he just returned from the war camps, at this plan, or if he doesn’t think you and Lucien are capable of spywork. The idea of disappointing Azriel made your stomach drop to your pit.

Rhys interjects, “you and Lucien have been friends for centuries - it’s a believable cover. And you’re talented with glamours - you could even glamour a mating bond scent over the two of you.”

You reply, “We attended tons of events together when we were younger - but anyone from one of those events would know we were lying.”

“It’s been hundreds of years, anything could have happened. Besides, I can provide you with a guest list to look over, ensuring you don’t know any of the guests.”

“I don’t know, Rhys…” you drawl.

Rhys sighs, “it’s one night. Do you think you could do this or not?”

You think it over for a moment and decide that you can, Azriel’s hesitation at your involvement be damned.

The irony wasn’t lost on you. You and Lucien pretending to be a couple when the two of you are pining over Azriel and Elain, who seem to be a couple. Cassian disagrees with your assessment of the situation - he’s convinced that Azriel has feelings for you and that Elain is just a friend, but you’re not so sure.

Lucien’s voice stirs you from your thoughts. “Wouldn’t our lives be so much easier if we were mates instead?”

You laugh, the idea having crossed your mind a time or two. “It certainly would be. We’d also have adorable babes.”

Lucien laughs, “those poor, beautiful babes, shame they’ll never exist.”

You two laugh, trying not to think of the heartache too much. Your own pining aside, all you want is happiness for Lucien. Pushing it aside, you two begin crafting your story: you’ve been married for two years, living in dawn for the time being, but you two want to explore all of the courts before deciding where to settle down permanently.

“You look lovely, dear,” Lucien tells you. If you two were going to pretend to be in love, you wanted the both of you to look incredible. Lucien’s wearing a green jacket with brown pants, and you’re wearing a deep green dress, with exposed boning and a thigh slit practically at your hip, exposing your entire left leg. You had gone a step further, embroidering a tiny fox onto Lucien’s jacket’s lapel and a matching one onto the shoulder strap of your dress.

“Thank you, you look very handsome as well.” And he did. The shade of green you selected for both of you matched both of your complexions and honestly, you two looked hot.

“What should our mating bond smell like?” You ask him.

The two of you think about it, ultimately deciding on a combination of smells: apples, fresh tea, and honey, the scent filling the room.

“Incredible work - I must say, you are a fantastic fake mate, darling,” he says, offering his arm to you. “Likewise, fake mate,” you say, tipping a pretend hat in his direction and placing your hand in the crook of his arm, walking out of your room.

Rhys had given you one main objective: talk, mingle, dance, drink. The hope is that you and Lucien can overhear something or that someone will inadvertently tell you two lovebirds something they don’t mean to.

The two of you take the dance floor, the band playing a slower song, one you and Lucien have danced to thousands of times, the rhythm ingrained into your mind over a centuries worth of balls.

You loved dancing with Lucien, the two of you fell into easy rhythm and garnered a ton of attention whenever you found yourselves on the dance floor. The two of you made a striking couple, and your dress looked incredible as he spun you around the floor.

Through the dips, the turns, and the spins of the song, you made sure to keep eye contact with Lucien as much as possible. You looked into his russet eyes, but all you wanted to find was hazel ones staring back at you. You’re sure Lucien was hoping the same about Elain in your stead.

The song ends and the two of you garnered more attention than you thought you would, and all the attention made you blush. You stepped away from your friend to get some wine, almost crashing into someone.

“Saffron?” You ask, incredulously. Rhys had been able to provide you with a full list of everyone attending, to ensure no one you knew was attending, but you didn’t see Saffron’s name anywhere on that list.

She looks at you, wrapping you in a hug. “It’s been so long! Of all the people to run into at one of these things, I’m not surprised to see you!”

She pulls back, looking you up and down, noticing the fake wedding ring on your hand. “And who’s the lucky male?”

Saffron knew you and Lucien when you were younger, so she knows there’s nothing between you two. You could either lie and try to skirt away from her, or tell her the ‘truth’ of this mission.

“It’s Lucien - we got married a few years ago actually!” You say, not sounding totally convincing.

“Lucien? The red head you were always with?” She asks, almost laughing. “You two always seemed more like siblings than lovers.”

You swallow, worried your entire night is unraveling because of her presence. “It was a surprise for us too! But one day the bond just snapped-“

“Wait, you two are mated?”

“Yes,” you reply curtly.

“I had heard he was mated to another girl and she rejected it.”

Her knowing that has definitely thrown a wrench in the plans. “Um, the rumor mill must have been working overtime. There’s no other girl, it’s just us.”

She looks at you, something odd flashing in her eyes, before she decides to leave it be. “Anyway, it was great running into you - congratulations!”

You thank her before she walks away and you can let out a breath of relief.

After running into Saffron, you spent hours dancing, mingling and drinking. You walk outside onto the balcony, telling Lucien you need a moment of fresh air. The noise level of the room was getting to you, so you thought you’d step out for a moment.

The moment the door shut behind you, Azriel emerged from the shadows. You startled, not expecting him to pop out.

“Hi Azzie,” you say, your nickname making him recoil. “Should I be seen talking to you, since.. ya know?” You ask, unsure of how spywork worked completely.

“So you don’t want to be seen with me, but you have no problem being seen all over Lucien?”

His question catches you off guard, and you look and notice just how angry he looks, anger directed at you.

“That’s not what I said at all, besides you know why I’m all over him tonight,” you reply, looking to make sure no one can hear this conversation.

“Yes, but you sure jumped at the chance to spend the night wrapped in his arms, didn’t you?” He moves closer to you, the two of you less than a foot apart, facing each other.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about - he’s my friend and he’s mated!”

“But she hasn’t accepted it yet,” he states.

“So?” You ask, “to me he’s mated, he’s off limits. Besides, I’m not in love with him, I don’t have feelings for him!”

The four glasses of wine weren’t a problem in the ballroom, but they’re a problem out here, making this conversation even more confusing to you.

“If the two of you want to parade around about how happy you are, why don’t you find another court to go do it in, and stay out of mine,” Azriel practically growls at you.

Your soft, sweet Azriel is growling at you. You’ve never been on the receiving end of his anger, but it terrified you.

He wasn’t getting it, he wasn’t getting that you didn’t want Lucien, you wanted him.

You sighed, trying not to let his words sting too much when you say, “maybe we will.” and storm back into the party.

After your fight with Azriel, you got considerably more drunk. At the end of the night, you and Lucien walked back into the palace together, laughing, him holding you up from the excessive wine you drank. You’re about to tell him something, when someone catches your eye.

“Hi Elain!” You say, pointing out Elain to Lucien.

“Hi,” she says to you, but she won’t stop looking at Lucien, “is it okay if I have a moment alone with Lucien?”

“Yes, absolutely, excuse me,” you say, brushing past Elain. You turn around giving Lucien a thumbs up and a smile, showing him it’ll be okay.

You walk into the kitchen, looking for more wine, when you bump into Cassian. “Owww,” you say, rubbing your arm where you bumped into him.

He laughs at your obviously drunken state, and tells you, “you did good tonight, doll.”

You look up at him, “yeah? Do you think Lucien and I could be spies now? Do you think Azriel was proud of us?”

Cassian’s caught a bit off guard by your question. “Why wouldn’t he be proud of you?”

You sigh and look at your feet, “because when Rhys asked us to do this assignment, he looked so upset, like he didn’t think we could do it.” You’re not sure why this is spilling out of you, but it’s started pouring and it won’t stop. You look Cassian in the eyes and ask, “what’s wrong with me, Cass?”

Cassian can almost hear his heart shatter at your question. “Why would anything be wrong with you?” He asks, grabbing your wine and going to get you a glass of water in replacement.

You slump your head down on the kitchen island and mutter into your hands, “why am I in love with someone who hates me and loves someone else?”

Cassian starts to panic. He’s good at consoling when you’re injured, but you’re heartbroken. This is uncharted territory. Usually you talked about these things with Mor or Feyre, not the giant Ilyrian next to you. “Who?”

You lift your head up, and he can see tear stains running down your face, “your dumb handsome brother.”

If you didn’t look so sad, Cassian would laugh at how you said that. “Wait, what did he tell you? Did he make you think he doesn’t care about you?”

“I thought we were friends, Cassian,” you choke back a sob, “I don’t know what I did, but he hates me now. He wants me to leave the night court… and maybe I should.”

Before he can say anything else, you get up and tell him, “I’m done, Cassian. It was hard, but I could bottle my feelings if we were friends.” You look up at him, and Cassian doesn’t think he’s ever seen such heartbreak on a face before. “He hates me now, and I still love him. Maybe I should leave the night court for a while, leave his precious court like he asked me to.”

Grabbing a bottle of wine as you pass him, you head upstairs for the night.

Cassian was a violent man. He’s been in countless fights, multiple wars, several battles, but seeing you so upset over his idiot brother made him rage in a new way. He stomped up to Azriel’s room, flinging the door open, and pulling the sheet out from under him, causing him to fall to the floor. “What the f-“ Azriel starts to say, but he’s cut off.

“Are you in love with Elain?” Cassian asks.

“You woke me up to grill me about my love life?” Azriel asks, more confused by the second.

“Answer me,” Cassian practically growls at the shadowsinger.

“No, okay! No. I’m not.” Azriel says, still sitting on the ground where Cassian hurled him.

“Are you in love with someone else? Someone who just spent the night pretending to be in love with someone else in the hopes that you would approve of her?”

Azriel blinks in confusion. “You had me. Then you lost me. It doesn’t matter - I saw how she looked at Lucien.”

Cassian did not have time for Azriel to begin wallowing. “Have you ever thought that while she was looking at Lucien, he wasn’t who she was seeing?” He pauses for a moment, then says, “you better talk to her before morning.” He kicks his brother for good measure then storms out.

Azriel got the courage to go to your door half an hour later, but you didn’t respond. At first he thought he had just gone too far, but when his shadows whispered gone, gone, gone to him, he knew something was wrong. The room was empty, and he could smell blood on the duvet covers. He told Rhysand mind to mind what was happening, and decided the best source was the last male he wanted to see: Lucien.

He started banging on the door to Lucien’s room, when the redheaded male finally opened the door. Half-dressed, with Elain hiding under the duvet, Azriel gets to the point, “did anyone tonight give you the impression they wanted to hurt her?” Lucien opens the door a little wider, asking Azriel a question he doesn’t want the answer to.

The shadowsinger sighs. “She’s missing, and her room shows signs of a struggle.”

Lucien begins asking a million questions, when Azriel stops him. “Rhys and I want to talk to you about every person you met with tonight.”

Lucien walked them through your night, including when you had left for a few moments to go on the balcony. Azriel flinched at the memory, his jealousy getting the best of him in the moment.

Rhys was about to ask him to go through a few people again, when something catches Rhys’s eye.

“Lucien,” Rhys says, “your fox is glowing.”

The fox you had embroidered on his jacket was glowing. It glowed for a moment, and then they heard your voice, confused and drunk, and another voice, projecting from the fox.

“Clever girl,” Lucien whispers.

You woke up in a dirty cell, Hybern shackles adorning your wrists. Your head was throbbing, the blow to the head really rattled you, and you’re still drunk. There’s a small window, and the moon is still high in the sky, so you don’t think you’ve been out for too long. You do remember the fox you had embroidered on your clothes, and you hope that, since the magic was sewn into it, it would still work despite the shackles. You place your palm over it for five seconds, and you just hope and pray that your enchantment will actually work.

The door to the cell opens, and in comes Saffron.

“Saffron?” You ask, confusion over your features. “What is happening?”

“Everyone always talked about how smart you were - why don’t you put the pieces together?” She asks, her disdain for you icing every word.

“Okay, I’m still drunk, and someone hit my head, but let’s see.” You pause, thinking about everything you know about Saffron. “We went to school together, you liked… magic classes. You liked knowing what magic could do.” You pause for a moment, something wanting to come to the surface of your thoughts. “You were interested in my powers. You once called Lucien weak. You like oranges - okay I’m getting a bit off track.”

You start thinking again, your head pounding from all the thinking.

“I saw you at the one hundred year reunion, and you worked for Kallias, documenting the magical capabilities of fae….” You trail off, your head still pounding, begging for you to go to sleep.

Your eyes snap up, “you got in trouble in school for using arcane magic on the grounds, but you were only suspended for a while. Then fifty years after the reunion Lucien told me he had run into you and you were with… uh.. that guy..” you start snapping to remember, “Wren! You were with Wren!”

Your mind is whirring, so many thoughts swirling around in your drunken haze. “Wren was that ugly guy who.. you dated him.. and..” there’s something there with Wren, but what is it?

“Wren always wanted to eat at that place on the corner that served soup. Wren wanted to be an arcane magic scholar, but they wouldn’t let him,” you pause, slurring a bit while you point at Saffron, “and you two got in trouble, but he was expelled!”

It didn’t matter that you were drunk, the wheels in your brain were turning. “You once told me after a break up that you don’t want love, you want power. And Wren was obsessed with ancient power rituals. He talked about them all the time.”

The idea hits you as you say it out loud, “it’s a full moon tonight.” Your thoughts have sobered you up instantly. “It’s the summer solstice, the strongest night for arcane magic,” your voice gets really quiet as you say, “and you’re going to do something. But what?”

She looks at you, egging you on to realize what she wants. But what does Saffron want? Power. Power. Power.

“You told me I was the most powerful of our year.” You swallow, realization hitting you to your core. “You’re going to take my powers.”

The silence hangs in the room. If your fox communicator worked, then you imagine the room is dead silent there too.

Saffron slowly claps. “There she is, brightest of our age. Oh how all of our teachers adored you,” she says, crossing the room to you, “it was incredible running into you at the party. Once I heard you were attending, I had to swoop in so I could see you. I slipped some faebane into your drink while we were talking so I could subdue you. My sweet, there’s one thing about the ritual you don’t know.”

She leans in closer to you, when she says, “we won’t just be taking your powers, we’ll be sacrificing you, which is a bit more extensive, but it allows for us to also take your knowledge and your memories.”

Your eyes snap up to hers, “no, no!”

“Your memories will teach us all we need to know about your little night court companions,” she laughs, walking towards the door to leave you alone with the revelation. Right before she’s out the door, she wants to tell you one last thing, “I always thought your powers were wasted on the likes of you. You could have been a queen, you could have given the high lords a run for their money.”

Everyone was dead silent, waiting for more news from the fox, but it seems like your captor left you alone. By this point the entire inner circle was in Lucien’s room, and tears were streaming down Mor’s face. She approached Azriel and said, “you have to find her, don’t you usually keep a few shadows on her at all times?”

Mor talking to him broke his concentration on the fox stitching, embarrassment flooding his senses. “No, I don’t, not tonight.”

“Why the hell not? You don’t even let her go down the street without a few extra shadows, but you let her do mission work unguarded!”

Lucien looks up at Azriel, realization coating his features, “She was upset about something after she came back in from the balcony, and she got plastered. You got in a fight and called the shadows off, didn’t you?”

Heat creeps up Azriel’s face, at both the mention of your incredibly dumb fight and the fact that his entire family was looking at him, aware of how badly he messed things up.

Rhys is the one to break the silence, “you told me you could behave, Azriel!”

“And I thought I could! I just.. I had a moment. A lapse in judgement.”

“A lapse in judgement!” Cassian cries, “she was crying to me because she thought you hated her! She thought you’d never want to see her again. She told me she might leave because it’s what you want from her!”

Mor gets to Azriel first, swatting him on the chest after every word she says, “what” swat “did” swat “you” swat “do?” swat.

Azriel lets her hit him, he more than deserves it. He can’t believe his stupidity in calling his shadows away from you, something he did out of pure anger at watching them dance around you on the balcony.

He starts to respond, when a shadow comes barreling in through the window, hitting Lucien on the head as it comes to inform Azriel of what it just found out.

You had been hopeful that the fox would be more helpful, but you’re thinking the magic didn’t work. Still in your party dress, you move around the cell a little. The witching hour is getting close, so you know they’ll be coming for you soon.

The cell opens and in comes Saffron and two huge males. “I brought some back up in case you tried to run,” she practically purrs at the idea, likely imagining them beating you half to death.

“Great,” you say. You follow them down the hallway, and the thought does skirt past your mind, but you’re shackled at the wrist and the ankle, you won’t be able to run fast or far, especially without your magic.

They open up two doors to the outside - it’s a nice, cool night. The moon is glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen it, distracting you from seeing the wooden logs surrounding a giant pole. You breathe in deeply, wishing, willing your friends to come rescue you. Now is the time, you think.

One of Saffron’s goons leads you to the pyre, and you take this opportunity to swing your shackles at his face, hitting him right in the cheek. The other one grabs you from behind, allowing the one you hit to face you.

He grabs your face, “such a pretty little thing. Too bad we didn’t have more time, I could have had a lot of fun with you.” His insinuation makes your blood run cold, and he pulls back his fist and punches you squarely on the nose, and you can feel it break, the blood pouring down your face already.

He nods to the goon that’s holding you in place and he lets go, giving you a second of repreive, until the one in front of you grabs you by the neck, and holds you up in the air, cutting your lungs off from the night air. You start clawing at his hands, desperately trying to be able to breathe. Just as your vision starts going a little spotty, he releases you, and you fall to the ground, gasping for air.

The other goon grabs you, lifting you up onto the top of the pyre, tying your hands to the pole. You take one last opportunity and kick him in the knee. He goes down for only a second, when he comes back up he just looks at you and spits on you. You gasp, anger fueling you.

“Enough,” Saffron says, “enough. It is time, call everyone here.”

Within a moment, ten other fae come into the clearing, all staring at you. “We’re here today to take power that we rightfully deserve!” The crowd cheers. “We will take this power and use it for a better tomorrow!”

The crowd erupts in applause, honestly you had no idea a dozen or so people could be so loud. Saffron begins chanting in an ancient language, and despite the shackles, you try sending out an emergency message to Rhys and Feyre, if you’re going to come rescue me, please do it now.

She brings a lit torch to the bottom of the pyre, lighting it. You can feel the heat as more of the pyre catches. The fire is getting closer to your feet, and you start coughing at the smoke.

Their chanting continues, getting louder, and you can feel parts of you draining, even with the shackles around you. You start yelling, trying for any distraction to break the concentration on their chanting. If you’re going down in an ancient ritual, you are not going with grace.

“Hey fucker! That’s right! You, Saffron! Not powerful enough to subdue me on your own, you have to use these stupid shackles from Hybern! You fucking coward - I bet you couldn’t even handle my power! It would consume you and burn you alive!”

Saffron faltered a bit at your taunts, but the rest of the crowd continued, persistent. “Is she supposed to be your new leader? what has she promised you? Power? Money? Land? I have all of those things, and look where I ended up! She’s crazy! She isn’t going to help you, she’ll steal your powers too!”

The flames are skirting up the pyre, getting awfully close to the fabric of your dress. You pull your legs, trying to climb up the pole you’re tied to.

“She’s weak, I’m tied up like a roast pig because she’s nothing!”

The chanting falters for a beat, enough for you to feel some of your power seep back in. You’re still shackled and can’t use them, but that doesn’t mean you want them gone.

You start coughing, excessive smoke inhalation perhaps, but you keep going. “My friends are going to be so pissed when they find out you killed me!”

Saffron allows the group to continue chanting, while she looks at you and says, “The unwanted Vanserra boy? I promise you, dear, he doesn’t scare us.”

A darkness creeps into the clearing, and a voice speaks. “I promise you, I’m much more terrifying than the fox.” Azriel steps out of the shadows, darkness radiating off of him in waves.

You’ve seen Azriel angry before, but never like this. He is almost feral with his emotion, he’d still be terrifying without the mass of shadows rolling off of him.

A few shadows come to you, circling around you, as if assessing you.

Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian step out at other points of the clearing, circling around the fae gathered.

Cassian makes a break for you amidst the chaos, and their arrival momentarily made you forget that you are moments away from being a filet mignon.

“Cas, I’m drugged! No powers!” You yell, as he approaches you. The smoke is growing stronger underneath you, forcing you to cough.

The general had no idea what to do, the fire was growing rapidly by the second, so he did the only thing he thought to do and didn’t allow himself a moment to reconsider: he ran, charging straight at you. Running up the pyre, ducking down so his shoulder makes contact with your hips, his momentum is enough to break the pole you’re secured to, the two of you tumbling off the pyre. Your head hits the grass with a hard thud, but otherwise you’re unharmed.

Cassian pulls himself off of you, checking you for injuries, and stands up and starts stamping out the train of your dress that had caught fire.

Coughing, and still tied to the pole, you thank Cassian. He moves to the top of your head, pulling the pole out from behind you, allowing you to at least stand up, even if you are still shackled.

Your ordeal with Cassian didn’t allow you to see the fight, but the remnants lead you to think it was quick and incredibly painful for the fae that captured you.

Saffron and one other are missing, assumingly already being taken by Rhys or Azriel for interrogation.

Feyre comes over, crouching down next to where you sit. “Are you okay?” She asks, placing both of her hands on the sides of your face.

The weight of the night begins settling, and you look at her, “I almost died. They wanted my powers, my knowledge, my memories.”

“We know,” Feyre says, hugging you. You’re not sure how but as she hugs you she undoes your chains, freeing your hands. You use the freedom to wrap your arms around your high lady’s waist.

“If they had taken my memories and come after you all, it would have been my fault.”

“But you were so so incredibly clever with that charm on your and Lucien’s clothes, we were able to get here just in time.” Your head turns to see Azriel crouched next to your and Feyre’s embrace, having come up without your notice.

Your eyes meet his, the tone of his words working to calm you down. At least, to make you feel less guilty.

“Do you want to return home?” He asks, holding a hand out. You nod, and he scoops you up, the shadows enveloping you as you realize you never specified which home to go to.

You were relieved when Azriel’s room at the House of Wind comes into view, afraid he’d take you straight back to your familial home in dawn after the last words he spoke to you.

“I’m sorry I failed you.”

Azriel wasn’t a man of many words, so he liked getting straight to the point whenever he could. He kept you close to him, still holding your hands from winnowing.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I was dumb, and jealous, and you were looking at Lucien like how you usually look at me, and I got scared.” He sighs, “I shouldn’t have told you to stay away from my court.”

You nod, trying not to think too much about him calling himself jealous, especially saying he’s jealous over Lucien.

“I just,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair, “seeing you with him, it brought up all these feelings of inadequacy. I’m not court nobility, but you are, and I’ve never felt good enough for you for a million reasons, and that’s one of them. Not that I think Lucien deserves you, hell no, but you deserve someone that’s your equal.”

Your mind is still reeling from the wine and the concussion you’re most likely sporting, but you’re hoping you’re gauging Azriel’s words correctly. Otherwise this will be really awkward.

You take one of his hands, “and you are not my equal? I’m the princess of the dawn court, truly no one could be as equal to me as a shadowsinger. Or is it too on the nose for a princess of the sun to be in love with the man in the shadows?”

His grip tightens on your hand and he pauses before asking, “are you saying you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” you reply, with all the tenderness this moment deserves. “And as for how I looked at Lucien,” you clear your throat, “I was thinking about you, not him. I spent the night pretending I was dancing with you.”

He looks at you, really looking into your eyes, trying to memorize your face, as he raises his hands to cups your jaw.

“Is it terribly cliche for the man in the shadows to fall in love with the woman who radiates sunlight?”

“Maybe a little,” you reply, “but I’ll allow it.”

You’re not sure which of you leaned forward, perhaps it was both of you. The kiss was full of night cool air and the feeling of the sun on your bare skin, his mouth enveloping yours.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel angst

803 notes · View notes

beskarandblasters · 24 days

Text

Hell Was The Journey But It Brought Me Heaven

Part Five of Time, Wondrous Time

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist | AO3

Series summary: You’re California Crest Studios’ newest production assistant, getting the opportunity to work on the hit movie, The Man From Deadhorse. But when you meet the movie’s lead, Cooper Howard, you fall head-first into a secret affair. Enter a war, a cryogenic freezer, and a two-hundred-year time jump. And yet despite all that, you just might run into him again.

Author’s note: Stay tuned until the end for a special announcement! 👀

Chapter summary: A rude awakening that ends with the sweetest reunion.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, made up fallout lore (I made up my own vault ok), angst, canon typical violence, restraints, blood, fingering, vaginal sex, irradiated creampie, pet names (sweetheart, good girl), praise kink, fluffy ending, use of RadAway, no use of y/n

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t put my best friend in an unsafe situation,” Reina says, unlocking the gate to the vault.

“Right…”

“You just have to change into one of Vault-Tec’s jumpsuits beforehand.”

“Why?”

“It’s what everyone will wear in the vaults, frozen or not. We want to test how they hold up being frozen, how they react to the oils on our skin. That type of thing.”

“…I see.”

Something in your gut tells you this is a bad idea. You could turn back now and tell her that you changed your mind. But her hopefulness stops you from saying no, the desire to not want to disappoint your friend. She’s been working on this for months and she seems so proud of it, so sure that it’ll be vital to saving the world in the face of war.

“So you’ll be compensated for your time after the trial is over,” she says as you descend lower into the vault.

“Got it.”

“And like I said before, you’ll be guaranteed a spot in the vaults should we ever need to use them… But I’d get you in one anyway, of course.”

“Thanks, Reina.”

She leads you into a bleak room, with copious racks of blue and yellow Vault-Tec jumpsuits. On the back of the suits, there’s a large zero in yellow writing. There’s a shelf of boots in the back of the room, along with a wall of lockers.

“Find one that fits and then you can place all your stuff in one of the lockers. And make sure you grab a Pip Boy, okay? It goes on your left wrist.”

“What’s a Pip Boy again?”

You vaguely remember seeing an ad where they were mentioned but don’t remember any details.

“They’re on the shelf next to the boots. We just want to test how they hold up when frozen.”

…She didn’t answer your question but okay.

“Alright. Thanks,” you nod, starting to get undressed as she opens the door.

You slip on the suit and find that it’s slightly uncomfortable. But at least you’ll be unconscious the entire time you have to wear it. You find a pair of boots in your size and slide a Pip Boy on your wrist. You still don’t really understand what it is. From what you can tell, it’s just a thick silver cuff with a black and green display on the screen. It asks you to register your information so you do so, figuring it’ll be important for the trial.

But once you’ve changed, you meet her in the hallway, anxiously walking through the vault. She brings you to a room full of large silver cylinders, a large glass panel in the middle of each of them. She opens the door to the first one, helping you get situated inside. Your nerves are shot, adrenaline coursing through your body. It’ll be painless, that’s for sure. But who’s to say you won’t come from this experience a changed person?

It doesn’t matter. It’s for the greater good.

Now or never.

“See you on the other side,” she smiles, sealing you inside.

You do breathing exercises until everything fades to black.

You’re ripped from your chamber, the sleepiness still settled in your limbs. Before your eyes can adjust to the light you’re thrown onto the floor, scrambling upright. Why would Reina or another Vault-Tec employee for that matter wake you up like this?

You blink a few times and look at who’s standing before you– two men and a woman, dirty, wearing ragged, worn clothing. The two men grab you by your upper arms and force you to stand up.

“Do you work for Vault-Tec?” you ask, utterly confused.

They share a laugh, exchanging menacing smiles with each other.

“I don’t understand. I’m part of an experiment for Vault-Tec. I was just supposed to be frozen for a few days for a thousand dollars cash and a guaranteed spot in the vault.”

“Oh, you got a spot in the vault alright. Bring her to the surface, boys,” the woman says.

“Who are you people? Where’s Reina?”

“If you don’t stop yapping, we’ll gag you,” the woman says, rolling her eyes as you’re forced to head up to the surface.

As you walk through the vault you notice the place is trashed. Blood is smeared on the floor, all over the walls. Dead bodies litter the place, all donning the same jumpsuit you’re wearing. The fear surges through your body, your legs threatening to give out underneath you. If it weren’t for the men holding you upright you would’ve collapsed by now, the fear and shock finally settling it.

How long were you frozen? Where’s Reina? Who are these people and where are they taking you? Why is this place full of dead bodies?

The harsh sunlight on the surface stings your eyes. You glance around once your eyes get adjusted and find that the surface is… different to say the least. It’s a barren wasteland, void of any life, except for the group of people standing near the prisoners. A band of people, similar in appearance to the ones escorting you; rugged attire, faces affected by the harsh climate, and dirty. But as for the prisoners, they’re dressed like you; blue and yellow jumpsuits, boots, a Pip Boy on their wrists, a big zero on their backs.

You’re forced to your knees, in front of the group of prisoners. Your wrists are bound together with rope. You look around you, hoping to recognize someone. But it isn’t until they bring up the last prisoner that you see a familiar face; Reina.

She’s placed beside you, staring straight ahead of her and not daring to glance in your direction. The group of… raiders stand before you, arms folded, menacing smiles on their faces, and covered head to toe in weapons. They outnumber you. They’re a group of at least ten compared to your group of five. A woman who seems to be their leader starts speaking first.

“I’m sure you’re all feeling lost right now… Let me summarize the past two hundred years for you.”

A pit forms in your stomach. The weight of reality threatens to come crashing down on you. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to run. But for the sake of learning what’s been going on for the past… two hundred years, you listen to the strange woman.

“Those of you who signed up to be a part of Vault-Tec’s little experiment… They failed you. They forgot about you long before the bombs dropped, before the war even started.”

She paces back and forth, hands behind her back as she continues.

“And now thanks to us, you've awoken from your eternal slumber. So, to repay us, you’ll be living as our servants.”

You feel like you’re gonna be sick, nausea washes over you as the wind whips your face. The weight of reality threatens to crush you, an overwhelming sense of hopelessness on the brink of swallowing you whole. Your ears start ringing and everything around you turns to white noise. You’re forced upright and placed into a single file line. The group of raiders surround you, guns drawn to prevent anyone from trying to break away. Reina’s in front of you. You have to ask her for more clarity. But maybe once your anxiety subsides.

Your mind is swirling with questions.

War. Bombs. Vaults. Your family. Your friends.

Cooper.

You can't process that it’s been two hundred years since that fateful night Reina locked you in the freezer. Your mind refuses to accept it. But as you walk through the wasteland, you slowly work up the courage to confront her.

“Did you know?” you say suddenly.

“Did I know what?”

“That they were just going to forget about me for two hundred plus years.”

“…Yes.”

“Quiet!” one of the male raiders shouts.

But you don’t listen.

“I should’ve known better. Cooper always talked about how shady Vault-Tec was,” you mutter to yourself.

“Cooper?”

Fuck.

“Do you mean Cooper Howard?”

“Uhh…”

“I said quiet!” the raider shouts again.

“If I’m telling the truth right now then so are you.”

“He would just tell me about how his wife worked there and how the company seemed to have suspicious motives.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“Then what are you asking?” you retort, scoffing at her audacity to even be demanding answers from you right now. You fucked a married man. She locked her best friend in a freezer for two hundred years and yet she’s the one acting like you committed a heinous crime.

“Under what circumstances did he tell you all this?”

“After we slept together,” you say smugly.

You expect to get yelled at again but instead, another raider chimes in.

“You slept with The Man From Deadhorse?”

“How long?” Reina asks.

“Not that it’s anybody's business, but from when I started on the film up until the day of the premiere.” You wanted to rub it in her face. She had been single at the time, bemoaning the fact to you whenever you hung out.

“So you were sleeping with him until about two days before you entered the vault?”

“Yeah, but that’s beside the fucking point. You need to tell me everything you know now.”

“Vault Zero was originally an experiment to see how long the body could last in a cryogenic freezer.”

“You told me it would be a couple of days.”

“I lied.”

“But… why? We were friends. Why would you do this to me?”

“They were pressuring me to find test subjects.”

“What made you ask me? Did I just mean nothing to you?”

She doesn’t answer, continuing forward but you press further.

“What about you? How did you get thrown in there?”

“Against my will. They were short on test subjects and threw me in there a few days before the war started.”

“When did the war start?”

“…October.”

Ten months. Ten months before the war had even started, you were locked in that vault.

Ten. Months.

Two hundred years and ten months.

You fight the urge to cry, instead opening your mouth to fire a retort back at her. But the raider walking beside you shoves you with the barrel of his gun.

“Gossip time is over,” he grunts.

But now that you think about it, you don’t have anything to say to her.

You walk for what feels like hours upon hours. The rope on your wrists irritates your skin and you want nothing more than to rip it off you and run as fast as you can. But on second thought, you know you wouldn’t last an hour in the wild on your own. There’s so much you have to learn about the world again. It’s overwhelming, thinking about what’s changed over the past two centuries. You’re left wondering what became of your home, what became of your family and friends, what became of Cooper.

But for that, you feel fucking stupid. Your affair ended months before the war started. Who knows what has transpired in life since then? He could’ve patched things up with Barb. He could’ve moved on and forgotten all about you. He could’ve found another young production assistant to spend his nights with.

Maybe he thought about you in your absence. Maybe he asked Emil about where you went. Maybe he stayed up late at night, thinking about what could’ve been.

Probably not.

Suddenly you wish you were never pulled from the freezer.

After what feels like forever, you arrive at the raider's base camp; a shanty town of tents and old cars. The place is littered with rubble, piles of old machinery, and oil drums. The raiders force you and the others on your knees again in a single-file row. The same woman as before paces back and forth before the group, hands behind her back like always, getting ready to tell you what’s expected of you as their new “slaves”.

But then she stops, looking past the group and out into the distance. She draws her gun and points behind you in the distance.

“Get outta here, you fucking shuffler.”

You try to look behind you but all you can see is the silhouette of a man, wearing a hat and a long ragged coat.

“Not goin’ anywhere until I get what I’m after.”

That voice.

You hear the sound of a piece of paper unfolding, prompting the woman to say, “That’s not me.”

“Sure looks a whole lot like you.” You can tell by his voice that he’s smirking.

Could it be?

“You’re outta your mind if you think I’m going anywhere with you… At least not without a fight.”

She shoots at the mysterious man. The crackle of the gunshot rings through your ears, making you flinch. You try to crouch down lower to miss getting caught in the crossfire and shield one of your ears with your shoulder at least. But you expect him to be dead now, falling to the ground with blood pooling around him.

But instead, he laughs.

“Well… I was afraid you’d say that.”

Another gunshot. But not from the woman, from the man.

She falls to the ground, gurgling blood in her throat and trying desperately to yell, “After him!”

The other raiders open fire, bullets flying all around you. Some of the new prisoners try to run, seizing the opportunity to make a mad dash. Some of them succeed, running far away into the wastelands. But some fail, getting hit by stray bullets and collapsing to the ground. You stay low, inching farther away and taking cover behind an oil drum. You listen as the gunfire rages on, people screaming and crying out in pain.

You’re at war with yourself, part of you screaming, run far away from here. But the other part of you tells you to wait it out, let them all shoot each other to death, and loot their supplies after. You decide to listen to the latter voice instead.

You peek out from behind the oil drum, watching as the man reloads his gun. You haven’t seen the front of him yet but you’re dying to see his face. That voice… God, it sounded so familiar.

You return to center and close your eyes, hoping everything will stop soon. You’re not sure where Reina is, if she ran off, if she’s dead or alive. But to be honest, you don’t care. You’ve quickly learned one rule of the wasteland so far– do this shit alone.

But eventually, the gunfire and the screams stop. You don’t open your eyes yet, listening intently for any signs of life. Footsteps creep near you and you freeze, hoping no one looks behind the oil drum. But it’s too late.

“What do we have here?”

That voice.

You open your eyes and look at the strange man standing before you– rugged skin, no nose, no hair, tattered clothing, and hazel eyes. You’ve seen those eyes before.

The man crouches down and reaches into his pocket for a switchblade. You flinch for a moment but realize he’s just cutting the rope around your wrists. Once your hands are free you soothe the irritated skin on your wrists, looking up at the man again. His gaze softens. And now that he’s closer to you, you can confirm that you’ve definitely seen those eyes before.

“Cooper?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Cooper Howard, I’d recognize that voice anywhere,” you say, brushing your thumb over his textured cheek. “And those eyes.”

He closes his eyes and melts at your touch, placing a gloved hand over yours.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he whispers.

“Me either… But I’m glad you found me.”

An overwhelming emotion washes over you and you can’t help but pull him into you, clutching onto him for dear life. You’re breaking down, letting the hot tears roll down your cheeks.

“Cooper, I’m so scared.”

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he says, rubbing your back. “Let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

He helps you stand upright, snaking an arm around your waist as he leads you into the colony of tents. He brings you to one messily labeled “med” with spray paint. Inside there are a few stretchers and copious amounts of medical supplies lining the perimeter of the tent. He sets you down on a stretcher and kneels before you, inspecting you for any injuries.

“Are you hurt?”

You shake your head no.

“I promise I’ll explain everything to you, okay?”

“What happened to you?”

“Exposed to radiation, sweetheart.”

“And it turned you into-”

“A ghoul.”

A ghoul… You’re not sure what that means. Everything’s so confusing and overwhelming.

He gets up and grabs a canteen of water, handing it to you as he sits on the stretcher beside you.

“Are you… alone out here?” You ask after you take a sip.

“...I am.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I still want you.”

“Sweetheart… trust me, you don’t.”

“But I do.”

“You don’t want to wake up next to this mug every morning.”

“Cooper, I’m still attracted to you now like I was back then. I’ve always loved you for more than your appearance. Plus… it was hot watching you kill all those bad guys,” you say, turning towards him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You lean forward and kiss him. It feels different but also the same simultaneously, caressing the face of your man, the new version of him. His hands roam your body, running along your outline in the jumpsuit. He pulls back and murmurs, “Let’s get you out of this fuckin’ suit.”

He moves off the stretcher and works to undress you, starting with your boots and working his way up. He unzips the top of your jumpsuit, helping you up so you can shimmy out of it, tossing the Pip Boy to the ground. And once your bra and underwear are off, you’re completely bare.

You lie back down on the cot, legs spread apart as he gets situated in between your thighs. He tugs off his glove and spits into his hand, playing with your entrance. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. He inserts one finger inside you, curling it painstakingly slowly against your soft walls. His other hand gravitates to your breast, caressing the outline before traveling to your nipple. Your breath hitches as he takes it between his fingertips, working into a stiff peak before moving to the next one.

“All these years later and you’re still just as desperate for me,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you shoot back with a shaky breath. “It’s only been like a couple of days for me.”

“You know I’m only teasin’, sweetheart. Love gettin’ you all worked up like this,” he says, adding a second finger.

He makes a come here motion with his two fingers, curling them against your g-spot as you writhe against the stretcher.

“Gonna cum, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you respond, voice high-pitched and dripping with arousal.

“Let me feel it,” he commands.

With one last motion of his fingers, you cum around them, clenching and releasing them erratically. Your moans and the wet, squelching sounds of your cunt fill the tent, looking directly into his eyes as you cum. You roll your hips into his hand, riding out the remainder of your high. He pulls his hand from you when you’re done and brings it to his mouth, tasting your spend.

“My good girl. So sweet,” he praises.

He pulls his cock out of his pants and hovers above you, gathering more of your spend with his hand and spreading it on his cock. Another shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. God, you needed him.

“Ready for me, sweetheart?”

You nod and it’s then that he finally enters you, splitting you apart with his cock. Your moan gets caught in your throat as you get adjusted to his size, staring directly into his eyes again. He places his hands by either side of your head, thrusting in and out of you repeatedly.

“Still feels just as good,” he says, jaw going slack as he watches your squirm underneath him.

You’re past sentences, only responding in the form of whimpers. Your moans grow incessant as your pleasure builds, thanks to his cock sliding in and out of you. He slams his hips into you one final time and with that, you finally cum. Your cunt convulses as the muscles in your core contract and release, waves of pleasure surging through your body. Your moans are like music to his ears, a familiar sound he’ll never get sick of. He curses under his breath and before you know it he’s coming inside you. His cum paints your insides as his thrusts grow sloppy. You finish riding out your highs together, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. Eventually, his hips slow to a stop and he remains inside you, looking down at you with all of the love and admiration in the world.

Maybe it’s the rush of hormones. Maybe it’s the past twenty-four hours making you emotional. Maybe it’s the weight of being reunited. But you’re reminded of how much you love him. And now that he’s finally yours you’re not afraid to say it.

“Cooper?”

“Hm?”

“I love you,” you blurt out, studying his face for his reaction.

But he just smiles and says, “I love you, too.”

He leans down and kisses you, soft and gentle before trailing kisses down your jawline.

You feel his cum leak out of you and remember he came inside you for once.

“I can’t believe you actually came inside me.”

“Speaking of that,” he groans, sliding off the stretcher and rummaging through the medical supplies. He grabs a clear bag filled with a brownish liquid, labeled with the word RadAway and an IV.

“You’re gonna need this, though.”

“What’s this?”

“Gets rid of the radiation I just released inside ya.”

You sigh and lean back on the stretcher, letting him hook you up to the medicine.

“What about like… pregnancy?”

“Ghouls are sterile,” he chuckles. “You got a lot to learn about the world, sweetheart.”

“I know… But at least I get to do it with you.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The End

End note: I would say that we reached the end for these two but that’s not entirely true! I’ve decided to write a series of one off stories about Cooper showing the Reader the ways of the wasteland! The new loose fit series will be called With You By My Side! I just want to thank @clawdee for being my rock throughout this series, for beta reading these chapters at an incredible rate for y’all, and always being there to bounce around ideas with me! And I want to thank all of you for reading, commenting, and reblogging. I feel so lucky I get to share this story with y’all! I hope you’ll catch up with these two in With You By My Side 🤍

If you like my work, consider supporting me on Ko-fi 🤍

Check out the series playlist! 🎶

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Tag list: @widowmakerow @bisasterbisexual @wowitsem @vegetarianvamp @celestial-vomit @ghoulsimper @anyzandy @justfoxymuffins @hobnob2020 @fallout-girl219 @ipostwhtifeel @awhoresjourney @chiyo13 @valkyreally @ivyinthesun

#time wondrous time #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #the ghoul fanfiction #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout #fallout fanfiction #the ghoul x f!reader #cooper howard x fem!reader

164 notes · View notes

lesamis · 4 months

Text

1810s dashboard but it's niche drama

💛 heartofanna Following

imagine cancelling someone for saying war is bad

🧵 sharethewoe Follow

#didn't expect better from w*rdsworth but some people i rly thought i could count on…… #anyway we will live to see this empire fall. can't stop history lol (via @heartofanna)

speaking as someone who was press ganged at the age of 17 to serve in his majesty's royal navy i couldn't be more grateful for your poem. young men like me are cannon fodder and you spoke for so many of us. fuck napoleon but fuck parliament even more.

86 notes

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

stable forgiving virtuous flourishing in my lane definitely not buying poison moisturized unbothered never been better

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

me when i lie

179302 notes

🏛 mynoseisfine Follow

Settling this once and for all. What does the public actually think about the Parthenon marbles debate:

🦉 realminerva Follow

lol i know it’s you lord elgin

🦉 realminerva Follow

like we joke and all but fully aside from the fact that removing the sculptures from greek soil was vulturine and opportunistic etc, it’s really just the tip of a frankly gigantic mountain of imperialist bullshit. let’s not pretend we haven’t been brutally killing hundreds who resisted oppression in india, LITERALLY BOMBED A NEUTRAL EUROPEAN CAPITAL, and embarrassed ourselves in the charge against napoleon for years now. pathetic ass empire & evil as hell to boot. @mynoseisfine the greeks who carved your marbles millennia ago would kick your tory ass so hard

3661 notes

🎀 emmawoodhousestan Follow

how do i still keep seeing thomas chatterton's final post being reblogged, wtf is wrong with you freaks??? he was seventeen it was tragic and horrible and happened ages ago. he was a kid just let him rest

294 notes

🍎 masque-off Following

callout post for @castleyeah @lordsidmouth @officialcoe @parliamentofficial: they oppress, murder and famish the british working people & also suck majorly

⛪ castleyeah Follow

sour cuz you’re unfit to have custody of your own kids huh

🍎 masque-off Following

proud to be the dad of a newborn who could already rend your pudding spine asunder with a mere glance

187 notes

🦆 mallardturner Following

finished this today 😊

44 notes

😎 chadeharold Follow

why is it always “you’re risking your life and legacy & will get yourself killed before the age of five and twenty” and never how was swimming the hellespont the hellespont looked fun was it fun

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

ohhh my god you swam the hellespont five years ago?? wooow should we tell everyone?? should we throw a party?? should we invite famous hero of greek myth leander who swam the hellespont

😎 chadeharold Follow

@loved-joanna look we never had any beef & don’t have to start this now. it’s cool that you’re sticking up for my ex, you guys were friends first, but just know that i’ve always trusted your opinion on my work & genuinely respect and admire you & would still be up for a collab whenever.

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

yea sure why don’t your lips collab with my ass

😎 chadeharold Follow

on it boss

1009 notes

#literally call me. down if you are

🍂 endymion Follow

sorry is it me or is the assassin who stabbed german bootleg wordsworth kinda…… 🥵

💄 biprincesscharlotte Mutuals

JOHN KEATS????????

2427 notes

#i'm p sure this is the author of lamia thirstposting on main??? help

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

romanticism this romanticism that why don’t you romanticise universal suffrage and rights for labouring people

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

anyone else in jail for seditious libel

🏹 axelaidtotheroot Mutuals

lmao i'm one of the “anyone else”s and i know you’re enjoying family visits and apparently some kind of cushy armchair situation, plus tons of books. try being in here as a spencean dude they won’t even let me learn how to write. worst of all some evangelical came by yesterday just to proselytize & put me “on the right path” fml

8341 notes

🗻 mounttambora Follow

y'all i don't feel so good :/

59 notes

#if you use dark mode...........rip i guess #this was the most fun i've had writing anything in so long. also. if you see the timeline not check out no you don't #(wedderburn was only imprisoned in the 1820s i think & the lamia volume was also published in 1820)#(also up to you whether he's responding to henry or leigh hunt. it's the 1810s everyone's in jail esp if they're a hunt)#romanticism #and just to be sure.#long post

372 notes · View notes

mcuamerica · 2 months

Text

The Shadowsinger: Three

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of parental abuse, mentions of violence, implied torture, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rhys asks you to be an emissary for the Night Court and Azriel volunteers to train you.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

Series Masterlist

Prologue - One - Two

The next month was spent with you learning about Velaris and the rest of Prythian. Even though you were 20 when you ended up in the northern village, you knew a lot had changed in the 100… and 50… years since then. You couldn’t count on anything you learned from being a spy because so much was different under Amarantha.

You spent days in the Library under the house, reading books about High Lords and Illyrians. You also found some good romance novels you brought up to your room.

This city, one that was full of hopes and dreams and happiness… It hadn’t been touched in hundreds of years. Not even the people in the Court of Nightmares knew about it anymore, thanks to Rhys’s protection.

You got to know Cassian, Mor, and Amren pretty well. Azriel had been off doing his own spying, so you only got to know him from what the Inner Circle told you.

You felt like you were starting to belong here. Like you could find a place in the city. Maybe even in the circle.

“I have an offer for you.” Rhys said at dinner one day. You took a sip of your wine and rose your eyebrows, telling him to go on. “We are trying to get the Illyrians to train the females. Those who want to be trained, or aren’t being threatened by their partners, of course. And I think you’d be a good emissary to the war bands.” He said, glancing at Cassian as if to say keep your mouth shut.

“Me? I- I don’t know if they would listen to a female… especially if their High Lord is having trouble with it.” You said, glancing over to Cassian. You knew the male would probably support what you chose, but if the High Lord and Lord Commander were struggling…

“Well, then you’ll have to make them listen. And not to bring your abilities into it… but you are a Shadowsinger. They can’t deny that, and they’ll tolerate you more because of it.” He said. How lovely…

“Like they did for Azriel?” You asked, hearing the stories of the brothers from Mor and Rhys. They barely allowed him to train, being a bastard. The only reason they did was because he was a Shadowsinger, and Rhys’s friend… “I don’t know, Rhys… it’s one thing to visit those camps. But to try and convince them that they have to train females..” you trailed off. “I don’t even know how to fight. I can’t very well take on an Illyrian.”

“You know how to hunt, right?” Cassian asked and you shrugged. You hunted for Sirona and your family when you first arrived at the northern village, but you hadn’t done a lot in the past 50 years. The most you ever did was with your Shadows, and that was more described as sneaking. “Then I’ll teach you to fight. Show the Illyrians that females can fly in their ranks just as good, if not better, than any male.” He said.

“You can think about it-“ Rhys started but you shook your head.

“I’ll do it.” You said firmly. “I’m tired of being useless when it comes to protecting myself and the people I love. I’m not going to let it happen again.” You said, your shadows settling on your shoulders as if they were backing you up. You let your family down before. You let your blood family harm you and the only thing you could do was flee.

“Okay, then it’s settled. I’ll train you-“

“How about I do it?” You heard Azriel’s voice, turning to him where he leaned against the wall. A few of your shadows bolted to him like the first day you met, this time wrapping around him before coming back to you. You could’ve sworn they brought some of his scent with them. They didn’t say anything, but they seemed to like him more than anyone else you met.

“Az, when did you get back?” Cassian asked.

As smirked, “Just now.” He said

“You want to train (Y/N)?” Cassian asked, resulting in Azriel nodding.

“I can teach you how to fight with and without your shadows. And when I’ve gotta go out on missions, Cass can train you on the former.” He said and you looked at Rhys.

“Whatever you want.” Rhys said and smiled. “It’s your choice.”

You glanced between the two. You didn’t know Azriel as well as you did Cassian… but you knew he was a Shadowsinger like you. And you know he could help you hone your abilities. You also knew that he was just as much a deadly warrior as the other two males sitting beside you.

“Okay, it’s a good idea.” I said and gave him a small smile. You could’ve sworn you saw his face flush, but only for a moment before he was back to showing his unreadable mask. “Maybe you can teach me how to spy… and this time actually keep secrets when I want to.” You joked. You knew how to spy. Knew how to get information out of people. When Rhys didn’t have time to interrogate spies under the mountain, she had you do it. You still felt blood on your hands from all the lesser faeries and High Fae you harmed on her behalf.

Az only gave you a small nod before joining the rest of you at the table. “I do have one request,” you said to all of them. “I don’t go to Valorworth until I’m done training.” You said. Before any of them could ask, you continued. “I can’t see my family… My blood family… yet. What they did to me.. I was weak and a coward. I couldn’t stand up for myself so the only thing I did was run. So the next time I do see them, I want to be able to show them I’m not weak. And I won’t run from them.”

There was something of understanding on all of their faces as you looked around the table. “If you want to kill them, we’ll gladly allow it.” Cassian said with a small smirk on his face. “Hell, I’ll even do it.” Rhys said and you smiled, letting out a small laugh.

“I don’t need to go that far… yet.” You said and leaned back in the chair, happy to be able to help the Court.

“You’ll get a salary as well,” Rhys said. “You’re welcome to stay here at the House. Or the townhouse. But you can also find an apartment.” He said and you smiled.

“I’ll think about it. Right now, it’s better to stay close to where I can train.” You settled. “If staying here is okay with all of you, that is.” You said.

“Are you kidding? It’ll be so much better having you here and not just the boys.” Mor said and you laughed gently, finally feeling like you could really fit in here.

The next day you went up to the training ring, seeing Azriel already warming up. You stood quietly by the stairs, watching as his shadows moved with him as he did movements you’d seen thousands of times in Valorworth.

His shadows didn’t warn him of your presence. A couple of them snuck out from behind his legs and went over to you, circling around your hair. Your own shadows moved to join him in the center of the ring. You still barely understood the concept of Shadowsinging, even after all these years. But maybe now, with him as your teacher, you could understand it more. And learn to understand yourself.

You finally cleared your throat as you stepped forward. As much as you wanted to, you knew you couldn’t stand and watch him all day. “You certainly know what you’re doing.” You commented as you walked closer to him.

Rhys had gotten Illyrian training leathers for you, tailored to your wings and your sizes. So when you walked up to Azriel, he had to pause just to take you in. You didn’t wear dresses much, but you also didn’t wear anything as tight fitting as this. Not that he’s seen you within the past month.

You shifted under his gaze, looking up to the sky. After breakfast and before you came here, you decided to take a flight. You knew it would be getting colder, and the frigid fall air only proved you right. This would be one of the last nice days before it started to snow. And flying would be a hassle.

“I am teaching you for a reason.” He finally said and you nodded. “Come here, let’s get started.” He motioned you over to where he stood.

You walked over and set your hands to your side. You were glad he decided to train you here and not in Windhaven. You didn’t know if you could handle being seen by the males, critiqued. Cassian told you that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to train you here. Apparently, Azriel hated the Illyrians. You completely understood, too, from what you’d learn about Azriel. The things that happened to him while at the war camps. Especially before Rhysand’s mother had come along to take him in. Still, you didn’t want to start training as an Illyrian when you didn’t know anything.

You weren’t sure how or why Azriel still adapted to the training, but it was probably so ingrained into him (and useful) that he couldn’t let it go. And so you had your trainer.

“I’m assuming you never trained at the camp?” He asked and you simply shook your head, scoffing at the idea. Your father would have killed you if he saw you anywhere near the training rings. “Do you know the exercises at all? Anything?” He asked and you shook your head.

“I was 20 when I left, and I was never allowed near the ring. I’ve only ever saw my brothers train once, and I remember the beating I got for it more than anything else.” You said. “All I know is that my father had a killer left hook that would leave my face bruised for a week. Even with my healing.” You said and saw something like anger flash through Azriel’s eyes before returning to his soft stare.

“Then let’s teach you an even worse one, and maybe he’ll learn never to hit a female again.” He said and you gave him a small smirk.

“Let’s.” You agreed and started the warm up with him.

Series Masterlist

Join the taglist here

A/N: Well we see the reader finally interact with Azriel! Not much but just a little taste of it... I hope y'all like slow burns cause this one is very much that...

Tagging:

@cherry-cin @cleverzonkwombatsludge @nickisshadowsinger139

@atomolvnar @complete-randomness-2 @lilah-asteria @tele86

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel x reader #acotar spoilers #katie writes #the shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger

145 notes · View notes

draemgal · 9 months

Text

spit in my face | azriel

i bleed for you and now i’m gushing, i bleed for you and you never care.

in which azriel is infatuated with elain, forgetting the one who would die for him.

warnings: unrequited love, really sad and angsty, azriel is stupid and a man, violence, war, death. written at 3am, not proof-read.

elain. sweet, innocent elain—with her long blonde locks and brown doe eyes, tall and slender stature, and gentle nature.

you sat perched on the couch, head resting on your knuckles as you watched out the window that faced the balcony. elain lay her head in azriel’s lap, her hands delicately intertwined with his. his free hand stroked her hair as he smiled down at her, only breaking his gaze to glance upwards as he laughed at something she said.

how could you tell him his heart belonged to you, and yours to him? for the past two hundred years, you had known. you felt it the moment your eyes locked on his, the moment his presence invaded your mind. you felt the snap and looked at him expectantly for his reaction, but it never came.

so you waited. you waited two hundred years, had been there the nights when he went nonverbal after missions. the nights where you held him in your arms, stroking his back as he recovered from injury. the nights he had nightmares of his hands, you wiping his tears and shushing him as he poured into you.

all of it went erased the second he met her. she was human, so dainty and young. her hands had never seen a day of hard work, her body baring no scars. her rounded ears pinked at the apex, her flushed lips that she held between her teeth when he introduced himself.

now she was fae, and devastatingly captivating. everything she possessed, every quality, heightened. you watched as she stole the shadowsinger’s heart, over the sound of your own shattering.

countless nights you spent observing, the same nausea and inability to do anything else remaining in your body. countless nights of crying into your pillow, waiting for the snap that you had no hope to settle in.

you played the video in your head, of him coming into your room as you slept. him sitting down, waking you up by cupping your face as he stared into your eyes. he would be frantic yet hushed as he pressed his lip’s against yours, breathless. he’d apologize for not realizing sooner. he’d hold you. he’d make up for the lost time.

now it was her. elain this, elain that. where did elain go? how is elain doing? what is elain up to?

all you could do is sit and watch your world and hopes for the future come crashing down under their feet as they danced, oblivious to it all. words left unspoken, two hearts happy, and one broken.

☾

you stood helplessly next to mor and feyre, nesta and elain nowhere to be seen. rain poured down and a heavy scent of blood tainted the wind that hit your nostrils. hyburn had them surrounded down there, bodies falling from both sides at a relentless pace.

your heart drummed in your ears, anxiety coursing through your veins. your eyes were on azriel, his movements strong and swift. his cobalt siphons gleaming as the got pelted with drops of rain. every move was calculated, thought out and planned.

you chewed on your nails, bouncing up and down on your heels as you watched them. you watched them come so close to death, yet escape it.

“azriel has too many soldiers around him.” mor muttered under her breath, clutching her chest as she watched the shadowsinger get overwhelmed on the field by people, but still being able to mow the bodies down.

the number grows, as does your panic. “t-there’s too many!” you state, backing away. he was now surrounded on both sides, cassian desperately trying to cut down the ones on the spy master’s sides.

elain emerged from the tent, so quiet that you could have missed it. “what’s happening?” she asks, tilted her head and pushing past mor and feyre.

“we have to do something!” you shout, watching as the chaos ensued. a soldier gashed azriel’s arm, blood spilling down his leathers and splattering onto the glowing siphons.

elain watched in silence, her delicate fingers wrapped around her chain necklace.

you scoffed and approached elain. “he’s getting torn apart and you’re all doing nothing! nothing! how can you say you love him and sit and do nothing!” you shouted, the storm pelting down on your soaked clothes.

tears beaded in elain’s brown eyes and you felt nesta’s hands grab your shoulders, ushering you away. she pointed a finger in your face, fuming.

“don’t ever speak to her like that.”

“oh, fuck you, nesta! cowards, all of you. cowards.” the words were bitter and hateful on your tongue, spitting like venom that shot to kill.

mor was holding you back, begging you to stay off the battlefield. it only took one glance at the shadowsinger before you knew what you had to do.

you winnowed out of her grasp and right in front of him, swords braced in your hands. you weren’t trained enough for this type of close combat, but fire was ignited under you. you slashed, countering the attack that was coming straight for him.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” azriel shouted, panic in his eyes as he saw you.

“azriel, i don’t have much time.” you gasped through moves, adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream.

“cassian, get her the fuck out of here!” azriel shouted, his gaze locked on yours as he continued to fight off the opponents. his voice was pleading, his breathing labored.

“azriel, listen to me!”

you screamed as a soldier gashed into your arm, but you continued. thunder boomed over the shouts of the massacre.

“why are you doing this?” azriel begged. you didn’t falter under his voice, you didn’t balk or winnow out.

“because i have loved you since the day i have met you, azriel. i am giving you a chance, an out. let me handle these guys, focus on the bigger picture.” you were full on sobbing, the metal of your sword clanging into another soldier’s as you spoke.

“y/n! you need to leave! stop playing hero, get the fuck off the battlefield!” rhysand shouted, his voice booming from yards away.

“azriel, i love you. i never stopped loving you.” you sobbed, a gash scraping into your thigh. “please, save yourself.”

“i can’t do that, y/n! i won’t let you do this to yourself over me.”

you saw it before he did. the soldier with a sword horizontal to his throat. you didn’t have time. your feet moved before his reflexes, and you were in front of him. lined directly with the top of your head, the sword sliced.

blood poured, turning your vision into a sea of red. you heard the man fall before your own body hit the floor. gut-wrenching screams emitted from azriel.

you let the darkness welcome you, the tug of a golden string pulling your soul to his. it had snapped for him. if you were there on earth with him, you just might have smiled. how ironic.

you couldn’t watch him mourn you, not like this. you couldn’t watch him continue, his fury burning bright as he avenged you. you couldn’t listen to the murmurs and screams of him saying he loves you, to hold on.

you’d rather have him alive than yourself, and you had accomplished just that. you had bled for him, and he had finally noticed. that enough was everything to you.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n #azriel #azriel x female!reader #azriel x elain

541 notes · View notes

tinyidle · 7 months

Text

Let Me Protect You - CSN

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: at a time of chaos, and with you being almost deathly afraid of the dark and what it can bring, you find comfort in your husband. he holds you, kisses you, and unfortunately gets an erection in his loose sweats...

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴/𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: san x fem!reader

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: historical fiction; angst; fluff if you can squint; smut

𝘈𝘜/𝘛𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰: victorian au; married couple

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2.2 k

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: marking, praise, mutual masturbation, slight overstimulation and edging (not on purpose), sideways position, breeding kink, b!gd!ck san kind of overwhelms reader, unprotected sex (they're married and consenting), aftercare implications, all fiction ofc ofc

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: M for mature

𝘈/𝘕: previously i saw a man who said "women don't need to be protected ... we [men] need to stop attacking them." he has a point, but sometimes a woman crave to have a man 'protect' her from the things that she knows she can just put up with. she just wants to be dotted on sometimes. first submission to @wonderlandnet

the village was at war, it was commonplace by now. you knew very well that, when marrying a man who was born to be in battle, you were going to be a soldier's wife; yet you didn't care. it was either him or the arranged marriage your parents set you up with-- a bullet you're always thankful to have dodged.

despite the wars becoming very bloody, with your husband's team getting hit numerous times, san never seemed to get a scratch on him. he is his father's son, you thought as you'd watch the burly-slim-built man perform deadlifts behind your tent every afternoon. no wonder the king appointed him to be the head warrior of the team.

having grown up to hearing sounds of swords drawing, horses furiously neighing, men exclaiming before falling to the ground with a thud, and the hearty cheer of victory on your village's end, you were desensitized to anything and everything. well, almost everything.

every night you would be unfortunately forced to sleep by yourself in the head soldier's tent as san and his men patrolled the camp for any potential enemies. you had an oil lamp burning sweet incense along with melodies from your childhood to keep you company, so you didn't worry much. however, when rain or thunder would roar along the dead night sky, you'd scurry under your covers, very much disliking the loud sounds of nature.

after nearly thirty years of constant battle between the neighboring cities and squatter nations, the village king and the rival leaders signed a peace treaty, calling for no physical fights for up to one hundred years. this treaty was sealed in the thumbprint of their blood, making it a life oath for each affected city. once you heard the news, you were ecstatic. you missed your life back with family in the village, and, although you knew that you wouldn't be able to completely move back there as you and your husband have a house, you were just glad to be able to visit them more.

you and your husband quickly gathered your things and left the soon-to-be vacant camp to travel to the once-vacant house. when you got there and took a look around the area, you immediately went to working on reviving the currently dusty place. san, who was carrying most of the things, helped put them down wherever you said for them to go. once you cleaned and dusted and decorated the house, along with san restocking the food pantry and getting the cooking materials back in their place in their kitchen spots, you two were finally finished refurbishing the old place-- becoming almost brand new again.

with dinner being finished and the two of you talking about your future endeavors with civilization again, you decided to get ready for bed. being the ever-so-sweet gentleman he was taught to be, san held your hand and courted you to the freshly-scented room, the candlelight aiding to the dim ambiance of sleep that settled within yours and his minds.

when you took the first couple bath since your honeymoon, which consisted of san constantly praising you for being the best while washing your back and chest, you both got out and dried off before putting on your night clothes. sleeping on your side, your husband went right behind you, becoming the big spoon for you almost unintentionally. you just felt so warm, he honestly couldn't help himself. san then blew the candlelight out, making you a bit worried, but you thought nothing of it considering you no longer were going to need it.

and then it happened. thunder boomed out of nowhere, along with the sound of the trophy wolves san brought from battle barking furiously at the night. you tried not to jolt, you really did. but when the second booming of thunder came and went, along with the wolves changing their tune from barking to howling, you jerked out of san's slight grasp, finding retreat under the covers you previously washed.

san was awoken by your body leaving his, making him confused. he looked downwards to see if you were okay, and when he saw that you weren't, he asked, "what's wrong? are you scared?"

you did your best to calm yourself, shaking your head as your heart pounded heavily. "no, it's nothing. ill be fine if--" again another sound shook your core, except it was someone loudly shutting the lid of a huge trash bin outside as dogs were now barking and howling in tandem with their gray cousins.

your husband shook his head as he saw your trembling figure through the indent of the cotton, "dear, how long have you had the fear of loud noises?" san slowly traced his hands over the outline of your body before carefully pulling you from the covers and onto his arms, the sheet now covering you chest down instead of your entire self.

"i always hated loud noises at night, but especially from nature. i thought id be over it by now," you pushed your head onto san's neck, your hands finding purchase on his muscular chest as you struggled to breathe properly.

the man wrapped his right arm around your back, pulling you impossibly close to him. for a guy who claims that im always so warm, he feels like a campfire right now, you thought, but had nothing in you to speak out your thoughts as another loud bang from a nearby neighbor racked your senses.

"shh, shh. it's okay, sannie's here," he calmed you down as he felt tears start to stream from down your face to his clavicle. "oh, baby, i wish i knew sooner how the dark's terror made you feel. i would have gotten a different house away from here." your husband rubbed his hands over your back, slowly but surely calming you as your feeling of worry and danger turned to warmth and peace, all thoughts molding into the man who had you in his embrace.

you stopped crying after some time, simply resting your head against san's shoulders and breathing soundly. turning over to sleep in your previous position, you felt something stiff. experimenting with your bottom, you shifted backward a bit before bending forwards, which was met with a not-so-subtle groan. wanting to further test the waters, a third deep breath from the man was taken as your butt nudged against the much-uncomfortable hard-on from san. as you repositioned yourself, your husband reached out to grasp your waist, stopping you from your bottom leaving his crotch area.

"baby, what are you doing?" when you refused to answer, san simply pushed himself towards your backside, making you gasp as you were suddenly surged forward from the slight force of his movement, biting your lip as you remembered exactly who you were married to. "don't make me repeat myself."

not wanting to make him upset, you answered quite timidly, despite your previous confident actions, "i just wanted to play with you, that's all."

san hummed, chuckling a bit at your reply. "okay," he said, one of his hands pulling your night dress up to your waist. before you could think about it, san slithered his hand onto your clad cunt, cupping it with a gentle force that made you gasp. he always had a way of taking your breath away, flustering you befor you'd know it. "is it alright if i play with you?"

you mumbled the words 'yes' in-between heavy breaths, all thoughts now melting into the warmth that resided between your thighs as san began rubbing your wetness through your undergarments. "you're so wet for me, yet all i did was do what you did to me," san quipped. "i guess its only fair for how hard you made me." he continued moving his hand on your covered clit in circles, causing you to whimper lightly as the fabric became more sticky against your folds. "take your panties off," he commanded. you removed your underwear, tossing them to the floor as best as you could without leaving your spot on the bed. you felt your husband shuffle behind you until his hardened length met way to your thigh in all its bare glory.

turning around, you stopped san from doing anything more. when he pulled his head up to ask what the problem was, you asked with a small smile on your face, "can i help you out a little more while you help me?" without saying a word, san guided your hand to his length as his other hand went back to its previous place on your core. this only caused your smile to grow bigger. as soon as you started stroking him, which caused his member to become harder and bigger than it already was, san let out a guttural moan.

"gosh, you're so good," san grunted, pushing his hips slightly closer to you as his fingers now pressed inside you, curling his fingers to your spot. your mouth dropped open as you tried your best to concentrate on pleasuring him.

in no time at all, you could tell the man was getting even hornier as you began to climax from his motions. pausing for a moment to catch your breath, you grabbed san by the neck and passionately kissed him. he could only groan in your mouth as your walls furiously clenched on his fingers still inside of you as you were smearing his precum around his now burning head.

pulling away from you completely, your husband turned you around to how you were before, your bottom stuck out for his viewing pleasure. you whined from the loss as san your side for a while, tracing your body line down to the curve of your hip before slotting his hand between your thigh, slightly raising it. "ready?"

you smiled, nodding your head quickly as you stared at the soft linen of the matress.

smiling from behind you, yet you could feel it, san held himself to your slightly pulsating hole and slowly pushed his head in. you slightly jolted, but relaxed as you heard san's small praises of how fortunate he was to have you and how well you were taking so little of him. using the hand he was using earlier to push the start of him in, he then gripped the side of your ass before slowly thrusting the rest of himself in. you were whimpering from the tremendous stretch, his fingers seeming to not prepare for what you haven't had since he was called to serve.

wrapping his arms around you again, san wiped away the stray tears-- wait, you were crying?-- he knows you were shedding. "i know, i know dear." he soothed you, helping you to untense for both you and his sakes. you because you were obviously overwhelmed from the size of your husband, and san because your tightness almost made him orgasm like a prepubescent teen. getting himself together for you, san held onto you sides as he did his best to pepper kisses on your face. "let me love you, now." when you finally started to, you sighed in content as you pulled his hand up to kiss.

"thank you, sannie."

kissing your cheek in return, he held his place inside you and slowly began to pump into you; just the amount of speed needed to calm downyour shaking. your sighing from discomfort soon turned to moaning from pleasure. feeling the bliss of your husband's length in you, you jutted your hips back more, allowing the view of your ass be a signal that you were definitely feeling good right now. feeling encouraged, san sped up, driving himself deeper into you. his fingers dug into your inner thigh as his motions grew rougher and more passionate.

"fuck, sannie. im about to cum," you breathed out, feeling so close yet so far to your release.

putting his freer hand to your clit, he rubbed it in circular motions, high pitch whines coming out of you in return. "cum for me, my love. make a big, filthy mess on my cock. can't wait to always have you like this until you can barely think without having my cum in you."

your moans grew louder as your thoughts began to change to ones of having your stomach filled to the brim of san's love.

with one harsh thrust into you, your release hit your core, a splattering sensation running down your leg as he kept fucking into you. despite becoming quickly overstimulated, you didn't dare stop san from using you to his completion. "please, sannie," you cried, doing the best you can to get him closer through clenching. "please cum inside me. i need it to feel warm."

the image of his imprint leaking out of you flashed through his mind, quickly causing him to snap. with a tight squeeze at his enlarged length, he let out a grunt before he unloaded his seed into you, moaning in pleasure and relief as he did so. his thrusts grew shorter as he came less and less, holding onto you and kissing all over the parts of your face and neck he could reach. "i hope that wasn't too... intense for you," he apologized once his heart rate settled down.

you turned your head to san before slowly pulling yourself out of him with a hiss, looking at him as your hole pulsed in an attempt to return to its previous size. "'too intense?'" you quoted him. "why would it be?" your hand was gently touching your husband's face as he kissed it anytime it reached his lips. "it felt amazing." san, feeling assured by your words, leaned in to give you a tender kiss on the lips.

"im happy that you feel safe with me," san yawned after hesitantly pulling back, stretching before wrapping his arms around your waist as your aftershocks were coming down to an end. "i love you."

smiling at him and kissing his lips once more, you replied back to him. "i love you, and im always safe with you."

this is my first san fic. crazy right? and it only took one dance performance to awaken something in me. oh, the photo in the middle with the moon? i took that picture two weeks ago after getting off work.

#ateez smut #san smut #wonderlandnet

284 notes · View notes

shirefantasies · 4 months

Note

Can I request a How Many Kids They Want for the characters from The Hobbit? I’m curious to hear what you think!

Heck yeah! I already made a placeholder for it in my drafts cuz I had to let’s GOOOO! Last post pre-surgery, crazy that we’re only 3 days out 🥲

How Many Kids Do They Want? The Hobbit Edition

Balin

Certainly not a future he ever expected, but it’s not such a bad one, is it? How big his family is is a question Balin wouldn’t mind deferring to his partner, especially as he would never be the one bearing them! But probably not more than three if he was really pressed for an answer.

Dwalin

Girl dad. I said what I said. Secretly wants to settle down and adores the idea of domestic life, especially with a sweetheart of a partner who he can take care of. This transfers to his children, who Dwalin is the fiercest papa bear to! No one will touch a single hair upon his daughters’ heads. I can see him having two or three little girls, very unusual for a dwarf and a bit unexpected to him, who would have said he wanted sons. The moment he has to pull a knife out of his little girl’s hand, though, the very same one that held a doll on the other side, Dwalin realizes what he wants has nothing to do with boys. Raises the toughest girls this side of the mountains!

Thorin

Does not mind the idea of a small family, more time and love to give each member as king. Thorin is fiercely loyal and dedicated, so he wants to shower his partner and child(ren) with as much as he possibly can. Thus he would prefer only one or two children. While he hopes for a son to continue on the line of Durin, growing up with a sister gave him a soft spot and respect for femininity, too. A boy and a girl sounds perfect to him, Thorin’s little prince and princess. He would have such a hard time not softening his harsh ways and one hundred percent spoiling them, but the last thing he wants is to raise spoiled royalty with no humility!

Oin

Oin is so the type of father to have a big family and brag about them all the time! Five or six children. He’s the default carer when they get sick, being so good at treating any ailment or pain that they run to him upon feeling any sort of ill. Not picky about if he has boys or girls, ending up with two girls and three or four boys. All of them are welcome to become his apprentices and several even grew up playing ‘doctor’ for years beforehand! Literally Oin could be handling someone halfway to bleeding out and he’s still standing there staunching it saying how he has the best kids ever.

Gloin

The proudest father and family man in general! Cannot wait to have a family of his own and absolutely wants a son to be his mini-me. Has a special bond with his son as we all know. Gloin is happy to even have one child, but could be persuaded to go up to two or three. Would raise the toughest, shrewdest daughter as he shows her the ropes of getting out of uncomfortable situations and having the confidence to stand up for whatever she wants!

Bifur

A family is a future he never grew up expecting being a manual laborer and warrior. Parts of him weren’t even sure how long he’d live unless he got tough, which of course he did! One son sounds good to him, someone to pass on stories of battle and his ancestors to and shape as a fighter, though he also hopes if he has a family they would not be so forced to see war.

Bofur

Envies his brother’s family a bit, not that he wants quite so many! Bofur would be happy with two or three or four. He loves the idea of having a little girl, especially if she’s a tiny version of his partner, he would just melt at the sight of her. Total, though, he’s down for three or four, multiple but still small enough to feel cozy! Absolutely the type of father who lets his daughter dance with her feet on his and teases the kids whenever he can! Makes little hats for his sons so they can match.

Bombur

Going by the fanon/actor canon here as always, a lot. He’s so good with wee ones and just adores them, so he is down for as many as he’ll be allowed, even up to thirteen or fourteen! Because of this, he naturally wants several of both boys and girls, especially because girls are rarer among his people. So playful with them and a master of getting down to their level as a naturally lighthearted and whimsical person. He loves when the little ones help him cook or bake even if it gets messy!

Dori

The most caring father ever, forever doting on his children and making them feel loved, even if it’s a little much! His perfect number is two, one of each if he’s lucky but he’d be happy with two of the same, too. Dori grew up caring for both of his brothers for enough years, after all, but he also has the sneaking suspicion that with dwarven culture, his love for the finer things would be more likely passed on to daughters! Likes the idea of teaching skills like sewing or jewelry-making to whoever his offspring are.

Nori

Kind of suspects if he had a child, it might not be legitimate, but in the end he takes the plunge of settling down, feeling the urge as he ages to keep his bloodline on. One or two is enough for him, though, sons if he can help it, which being a dwarf he practically can! Realizes carrying a wee bairn around has a charm that lets him get away with even more than usual, and as they age teaches his little boys how to play games and even to cheat a little.

Ori

Softer, more caring than his middle brother, someone who fantasized about having a family if someone would have him. His vision is of four children, two of each. So patient with all the buzzing questions and curiosities of their young minds. All of them, boys or girls, will have the most enriching environments full of art and writing, being raised with culture over getting taught to fight. Since self-expression is encouraged, though, you can bet it’s a loud home!

Fili

Even beyond the weight of cultural expectations, Fili wants to experience being a father. Doesn’t have as strong a desire for a son as most kings and princes do, honoring his mother and what a great queen she would make. In fact, he loves the idea of raising a future queen more than king in some ways. She would be strong, resilient, free to be herself and not fall to the shadows beneath anyone if Fili has his way. He definitely wants more than one, though, and in fact ends up with twins, too! Identical twin sons he encourages both to train and explore as well as to mess with everyone by lying about which twin they are.

Kili

This dwarf loves his mother and is just dying to show his children the love he got and respect his partner especially if she’s the mother of his children! The idea of a family makes him happy like nothing else, for despite all his flirting and seeming like he wants to have fun he really wants to settle down with the love of his life. He wants at least one of each, loving different things about having a son and daughter. The kind of father who would play dress-up with his daughter and spar with her just as much as his son! All in all, he’s pretty open on numbers, but he wants at least two and the ideal range in his mind is around three to five.

Bilbo

Didn’t think he wanted children for a long time, but Bilbo is definitely the sort to change his mind if he meets the right person. Still would prefer a smaller family of one or two children, though, as more would be overwhelming to him and he wants to keep his home in order! Boy or girl, his kids would learn so many skills ranging from folding handkerchiefs to cartography. No strong preference from Bilbo on what he wants, per se, he more just hopes to have things in common with them and be able to bond.

Thranduil

Torn between his desire for an heir and not exactly paternal ways, Thranduil really only wants one child. All his attention can be focused that way, too, because at his heart he does know that duty makes it hard to be as involved as he could be with family and it would not be fair to have a massive family he can’t spend time with. Likes the idea of a son, again considering an heir, but a little girl would have the woodland king absolutely wrapped around her finger and get every pretty little thing she wants.

Bard

Pretty obvious on this one, but he would want three! Not so picky on having sons or daughters, especially when his legacy already has pressure upon it. In truth he’s the sort who wants ‘the full experience’ and says he’d want to try for one of each. Teaches all of his little family valuable skills, wishing them the best chance in life. They’ll learn to heal, defend themselves even if it’s not fighting, simply keeping safe.

Beorn

Intimidated as he is by the prospect of having children in a world that was so cruel to his people, his papa bear instincts run deep through his veins. I can see him having twins or even triplets, like a little litter all his own. I see triplets, two boys and a girl. Beorn cannot help the way his often harsh expression softens at his little ones, the hopeful smile that creeps onto his face at the thought of continuing the Skin Changers’ legacy through his sons and daughters, his name-bearers and the one who will choose her own.

Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Message/Reply to join 🥰

215 notes · View notes

callsign-rogueone · 4 months

Text

a brief history of Navarre - x.r.

Xaden Riorson x marked!partner!reader (gn) Midterm week at Basgiath has you wanting to pull an all-nighter to study, but Xaden won’t let you. requested as part of my Valentine’s day celly 💕 (gonna be posting these well into March, oops) words: 745 🏷: no book spoilers and no triggers, just X taking care of his partner. established relationship between reader and Xaden. the reader wears one of Xaden’s shirts, but there is no description of how it fits on them (we bigger / taller girls are tired of reading that [character]’s clothes are soo oversized and long on us!) shoutout to the people who put a full timeline of the continent’s history online bc I was too lazy to find it all in my copy lol

“I’m calling it a night,” Xaden announces, closing his textbook. “Gonna go shower.”

You hum in acknowledgement, pen between your teeth as you read the same page for the fifth time tonight, still trying to cram six hundred years of history into your brain. You’ve been sitting on his floor for hours, and the lines of text are starting to blur together, words starting to look misspelled and foreign, losing their meaning with repetition.

You spent too much time reviewing the first fifty decades. You still have nearly another hundred years to cover, from 530 to present.

It has not escaped your notice that the book reduces the Tyrrish revolution to an afterthought, at the end of the text. The belittling words they’d chosen to describe your parents’ valiant effort had nearly been enough for Xaden to light the entire volume on fire, but he’d settled for ripping that page out of his copy and letting Sgaeyl torch it.

You’d left it in yours as a reminder that these people are not on your side, nor will they ever be.

The running water stops, Xaden stepping back into the room a moment later. “You’re still studying?” He asks, rubbing at his hair with a towel. “You must be really into that book if you aren’t checking me out right now. I’m literally dripping.”

He’s a little offended that you don’t even look up as you answer.

“This is important, Xay. It’s a third of our final grade.”

He dries his hands on his pants, taking the book from your hands easily -- your grip on it has loosened with your exhaustion.

You protest, but he shushes you. “Why did Poromiel not unite with Navarre after the great war?”

It takes you a moment to respond, pushing through the sleepy fog to find the answer. “Religious differences”, you reply tiredly. “And their king did not want to share his throne with Navarre’s.”

“Good. When was the second Cygni Incursion?”

“328.”

“And the second Krovlan uprising?”

“434.”

He shuts the book, gathering your notes into a neat stack. “You know this stuff, darling. You’re going to pass this exam with flying colors and set the curve for the whole class, but only if you get some sleep.”

Materials now confiscated, you have nowhere to look except up at him, and your resolve immediately starts to crumble.

He’s ready for bed, dressed only in a pair of black sweatpants that drape across his hips and cover the muscle of his legs, but every other inch of skin is exposed; the relic swirling up his muscled arm, the definition of his chest and stomach, the broad expanse of his shoulders…

You’re too tired to jump his bones right now, but it would be nice to stop, to cuddle up with him, to fall asleep in his arms. Your schedules are packed with classes, studying, training, his wingleader duties, and your responsibility for the younger marked ones. It’s been nearly a week since you’ve been able to hold him for more than five minutes. His skin is always so warm against yours, and his mattress is certainly more comfortable than the hardwood floor…

You hesitate, still eyeing the book in his hands. “I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do. C’mere.”

You sigh, letting him pull you up from the floor. Your muscles sing in relief as you stand, your back aching from being hunched over for hours. You relax into him, resting your eyes for a minute.

“Go brush your teeth,” he encourages.

You don’t want to move from his arms, but three years of dating the boy has taught you that he won’t yield on matters of your health. You sigh, heading to the bathroom.

When you get back, he’s packing everything into your bag for tomorrow — or today, rather. You’d started studying after dinner, and now it’s well after midnight.

He helps you out of the day-old clothes and into one of his shirts and a clean pair of underwear -- you keep a few days of necessities here for moments like these.

You curl into his side, pulling the blankets overtop of you, and the swirling thoughts are replaced with the easy contentment that comes with being held by your partner.

“You’re going to do great,” he whispers, smoothing a hand over your back. “Just get some rest, okay?”

You don’t respond, already lulled to sleep by the steadiness of his heartbeat and the warmth of his arms around you.

#xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #reader insert #fourth wing x reader #mine

263 notes · View notes

hanafubukki · 11 months

Note

hana, i know you reblogged this post but please,

go wild and brainrot;3

Hello Herri 💕💜🌺

As you have asked for, so shall you receive. I AM STILL ROTTING OVER THIS MAN SO YOU HAVE COME AT THE PERFECT MOMENT (then again do I ever not rot over this fae????)

So that quote just hits me right in the feels, its one of the quotes that just steps on your heart, you know? HTTYD 2 is my favorite movie of the three as well

"Go on, shout. scream! Say something!"

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

These two lines are just so so filled with emotions and then you can add so much more feels and angst as well, given how you set up the story line.

SO HERE WE GO, under the cut because I am going to go wild and I ended up writing a few different drabbles.

So, to start of with your idea Herri, I'm going to add a spin on it and more details.

What if Reader was a Fae in this scenario?

So, the situation is similar to HTTYD, but in this case instead of enemies being dragons, we are going with enemies being Humans.

Humans and Fae War will be the setting.

Reader develops sympathy/empathy for the humans, but know that during this time, the Fae are too prideful to sign a treaty with them.

Likewise, humans are just as stubborn.

but the Reader cannot and will not have humans die by their hands, not anymore.

but Reader knows that they are the only ones thinking this way, and knows that their beloved, Lilia, is stubborn and won't change his mind either.

As all problems require, time is needed.

So Reader leaves in the middle of the night without telling anyone.

Time passes, and the war ends, and we come to current times.

You have moved on to another land. You used your magic to hide your Fae features until everything has settled down between the Fae and Humans.

Now that peace has come, you can’t help but wonder, should you go back? Should you reveal yourself?

Coronation Route: You went back home once you heard that Maleficia is stepping down, and her grandson Malleus will be taking her place as King. You have heard how he has a fondness for humans, and even made friends with them. You have heard rumors about how his lover might even be human. You have heard rumors how Lilia is by his side, and so are two guards (one who is human and another who is half fae and half human). You can't help it. You want to go back. You want to see him again. So you go back to your kingdom on the day of the coronation, wearing a robe to cover you. You watch as Malleus and his entourage greet the people and then you see him. He has changed...yet he is the Lilia you love and cherish. You can't help it; you utter his name. He shouldn't have been able to see you, and yet his eyes snapped towards your direction. You turn to leave quietly, hoping against all odds he's hadn't noticed you. But of course, he is the Phantom General, he catches you. You could see that he still has the love he always had for you and then those lines are uttered by you both. You end up breaking down and crying in his arms. You missed him, all these years and your love for each other never faded. It seems there is more than one celebration to celebrate tonight. It was also a night of lovers being reunited after hundreds of years.

NRC Route: I'm thinking of reasons why Fae Reader ended up at NRC and I'm going with they are a professor there. NRC is nothing, if not perfect at hiding secrets and they hid your identity well. That is until you attended the ceremony for the new students and lo and behold, Malleus and Lilia are both part of the new class. You have to force yourself from shaking. You have to stop yourself from looking at Lilia again and again. You can't look at him again. You can't drink him in as if he is water and you are very much parched for him. You try to act normal as you feel eyes on you, and you know it is him. You leave the ceremony right after is it finished, hoping to evade him just a bit longer. What can you say? What can you do? How would you face him after so long? But you have missed him so. Time is taken out of your hands when you see him in your room, while he may not look the same, he is skillful and has been known as the Phantom General after all. He is a silent as the shadows and you can't help it. You break first. You say those words, only for him to call you beautiful in return. You sob as he cups your face and wipes your tears. His arms as warm and comforting as you remember. You two have many years to make up for, and lucky for you both, you two have all the time in the world.

NO ONE LOOK AT ME I AM STILL FEELING SOFT AFTER WRITING THAT JKLWJEDLJFLJL

Now, what if Reader was human?

There's so many different situations I can come up with, but I'm going to go with two of them. One is going to be with a Human and reincarnation trope and another is going to deal with my Yume Hana Asteria.

Reincarnation Route: You were a human who had met the General on the battle field. He was ensnared by a trap set by the humans, but had gotten free. At the cost of grave wounds, you chose to heal his wounds instead of leaving him. You knew that you should have left him be, knew that he would likely kill you. but you couldn't, at the end, he needed help and you wouldn't leave him. He ended up in your care. He wasn't the...greatest patient. He snarled at you and demeaned you, but you let him be. He had many chances to kill you, but never did and that was good enough for you. You ended up dying protecting him. He had tears falling down his face while he cradled you. You told him it was okay and that you cherished your time together. You prayed you two would meet again. You did not know it, but you were the start of why he started softening towards humans. Hundreds of years passed, you had returned as the magic-less Prefect. You two made a connection as if you were soulmates, but neither of you knew why. It was only in the dream world did you both finally understand. After Malleus' OB had been settled, you yelled. Not at him, never at him, you yelled at the unfairness of it all. But he just uttered, how much you haven't changed and how you are as beautiful as he remembered. And you both knew, No matter the situation, this time you both would have a Happy Ending in this life.

Hana Asteria Route: Hana tried to stop the war between both sides, but no matter what she did, it was never enough. Hana eventually gets captured by the Fae, and in time, she forms a camaraderie with them. Eventually, she has to leave, her powers were used too much and she would shatter if she stayed any longer, so she said good bye. When she finally returned, she did not remember her time in the past. But as the story progressed as in canon, she remembered. It was then that she shouted. She felt useless. She couldn't even help those she loves, but Lilia comforted her. The stars had granted him his deepest wish. He would meet her again, and so they were reunited. This time though, they both would work together to bring forth the world they dreamed of. This story Anonie wrote speaks to me on so many levels on how Hana and Lilia met. It is beautiful and I recommend everyone to check it out.

PLEASE I AM STILL SO SOFT. IT IS SOMETHING ABOUT IMMORTALS AND MOTALS LOVING EACH OTHER. ABOUT HOW, THROUGH TIME, THEY WILL MEET AGAIN AND AGAIN. HOW THEY WILL CONSTANTLY FALL IN LOVE THAT HAS ME GO FERAL 💜💚💚💚💚

Going to stop here because then I will never stop at this rate lolol I want to hopefully write one of these ideas one day but we will see.

I hope you enjoyed what I wrote Herri and that it helped with your writer's block.

Your ask certainly has me going feral again, but hey, at least this time I'm not stating how bad I want to...uhhhh ah-hem.

Thank you of sending this in 💚🌺

Additional Credit for the Quote by @aqua-beam

#twst lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #general lilia #general lilia vanrouge #general lilia vanrouge x reader #twst drabble #twst imagines #twst x you #twisted wonderland x you #Hana Asteria #oc: Hana Asteria

466 notes · View notes