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teatoptony · 2 months

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The Same Boat

ask; hi sorry if this is too much detail but a request for reader the same age as Luke and joins the camp at around 16-17 but they had a really nice life before joining camp half blood and really hates the camp because she deeply misses her friends and boyfriends and girlfriends, and it takes place when she’s first joining and she points out to Luke how terrible the system is and they bond over being really angry about the gods. thank u!!!

pairing(s); luke castellan x gn!reader (romantic or platonic, not exactly specified but leaning more towards platonic)

warning(s); daddy issues ig

a/n; i changed the story a lil bit so that the reader didn’t just get to camp, but got there a little bit ago and was given a quest which ended a lil bit before the fic starts, hope u don’t mind. pre-lightning thief. i had ares in mind as reader’s gp but it’s not specified, i did refer to them as a dad and their mortal parent as a mom though

it’s been a while since i’ve read the books and i personally never got the luke hype so sorry if it’s a little ooc, also a bit short. had book luke in mind while writing but could be read for book or series luke ig if you ignore minor physical descriptions

art credits(left to right); velinxi, velinxi, frostbite studios

You had never known who your godly parent was.

You’d always assumed it was one of the minor gods, since the satyr assigned to your school hadn’t sought you out until you were old enough to drive. Either that or you just weren’t ‘gifted’ enough to garner much attention. You didn't know which you preferred.

In a way, it didn’t really matter. No one claimed you anyway, so you spent the first couple weeks of your stay at Camp Half-Blood — a very inconspicuous name, by the way — in cabin eleven, the Hermes Cabin.

It was a rough adjustment. You were resentful of this new world; a world of gods and monsters and magic and so many weird stories that made it hard to keep track of every twist and turn and easy to offend whichever god whose myths or name you got confused. You felt like someone was watching you at all times. Or would it be the opposite, since your godly parent clearly didn’t care enough to claim you as their own?

It didn’t help much when you were assigned a quest, either. Or rather, one of your friends were.

Austin Lake, a child of Apollo, was tasked to retrieve his father’s lyre from a forest — not just any forest, no, the Grove of Demeter. Or at least, a recreation of it, anyway. According to Austin, Demeter had banned his father from ever entering the Grove again when he’d had a little too much ‘fun’ with one of the wood nymphs there, so he needed his son to go fetch his lost toy.

Bit derogatory, you thought. We’ve been reduced to well-trained dogs.

Still, you tagged along.

There were a couple hiccups along the way, which you were told were par for the course by Chiron, who welcomed you back rather dismissively once you returned. Normally, you would’ve been offended. I mean, you get back from a not-so-semi life threatening outing, and all you get is a halfhearted pat on the back? Honestly.

But you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care. Not today.

You sat on the hillside as you watched the sunset. Wind carried the sweet scent of ripe strawberries from the fields along with the smell of dirt and other greenery as the grass beneath you swayed in the breeze. The blades tickled your skin as you basked in the calm silence of everything — something fairly unusual for this place, as far as you could tell from your stay so far.

You, however, did not feel calm. Quite the opposite, in fact. Your feelings toward the world of Greek mythology hadn’t been good in the first place, to say the least; you’d had to practically abandon any and all traces of your life back home in order to get here since you’d been discovered so late. You missed your friends (whom you assumed would be worried sick by now, since cell service was pretty much nonexistent here and you’d only been able to contact a few of them via post), and you missed the taste of actual junk food that came from cans and bags. You even missed school, as boring and hellish as it was. At least it offered a sense of normalcy that you so desperately needed right about now.

“Room for one more?” A voice asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned to see Luke standing beside the pine on top of the hill, a Coca Cola in either hand. There was a small smile on his lips as he said, “I brought drinks.”

You smiled back at him, mostly out of courtesy but also at his offer. It was as if he'd read your mind. “Sure, if you want.”

Luke strolled down to sit beside you, handing you one of the fizzy drinks and popping his own. The can was pleasantly cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the harsh sunlight hitting your skin. “Thanks.” You muttered, taking the soda with a grateful look.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied. “We keep a secret stash of six-packs in the kitchen for special occasions. The harpies are pretty easy to bribe.”

Silence settled between the two of you as you sipped on your drinks. You stared straight ahead as you did before, but now you caught glimpses of Luke’s sandy blond hair out of the corner of your eye.

It was… awkward.

Luke had always been a bit of a mystery for you. Sure, you saw him as a friendly guy, and he had been nice to you ever since your first day here, but you noticed little details the younger or happier campers didn’t.

He never really liked talking about his father, Hermes, despite having been claimed almost as soon as he got to Camp. Okay, maybe that was fair, since he had to deal with loads of hopeful, undetermined campers asking him when they would be claimed, too.

‘Oh, I was claimed the minute I got here. But since your godly parent didn’t claim you yet, I guess they just don’t care about you.’

Yeah, not a great thing to tell a twelve-year-old.

Luke was also pretty closed off in general. He was an easy guy to make friends with, sure. But other than surface-level stuff like what color he likes or which Camp activities were his favorite, only one or two people knew much of anything about his personal life. Which was to say, his life before coming here, since it’d be pretty hard to have a ‘personal life’ when you lived in cabin eleven year-round.

You remembered the night before you took off for the quest. Luke’s face illuminated by flames as he burnt his nightly offerings with the rest of the camp, his expression one you could still clearly picture. A mellow bitterness — something kept suppressed for years, stacking and stacking and never getting cleaned out, building like dust and cobwebs on top of an old dresser. It was a face you assumed you'd wear eventually, too.

And that wasn’t even mentioning all the time he spent in the arena. His swordsmanship was the definition of textbook when he was training other campers, but it was a whole different story if you happened to stumble across him practicing on dummies in his spare time. His swings were quick and precise, as usual. However, there was an almost brutal quality to him as he maimed the dummy, slashing it as if it'd slaughtered his entire family.

Not that it would be that weird if the dummy had actually murdered them, Greek mythology and all.

Anyway.

“So...” Luke started. Then he must've realized he didn't really know what to say. He stared straight ahead and tapped his finger on his knee.

“So...” You repeated. You could tell he had something to say to you, he just didn't know the best way to go about it. After all, who would waste contraband on someone they didn't really know if it wasn't to sweeten them up before asking a favor? “..Did you need something?”

Luke opened his mouth, but hesitated before saying anything. “Actually.. yeah.”

See? No one's that nice.

“I kinda heard what happened,” He continued. You picked at the tab of your can, avoiding eye contact. Of course he knew. Something like that can't exactly stay a secret for long in a place like this. “I overheard Austin talking to Chiron about it?”

Well, fuck him then.

“He mentioned you wanna keep it on the down-low, so, your secret's safe with me.” He quickly added, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Oh, um...” You didn't really know what to say to that. It was bound to get out eventually, so it was the sentiment that mattered, you guessed. “Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” He nodded. “It was supposed to be a secret anyway, right?”

“I guess.”

“...It's bound to get out eventually though.”

You sighed. There was no actual hope with keeping this a secret, after all. The best you could do was a 'everyone knows about it but we don't talk about it' secret.

“I know, don't remind me.” You muttered. “I mean, it'd be hard to hide moving to a different cabin, wouldn't it?”

Luke chuckled. “I can't speak from personal experience, but yeah, probably.”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You felt like pulling your hair out. “How much do you know?”

“Not that much,” he shrugged. You didn't need to look at him to know he was lying, you had a pretty good track record of telling when someone was. “Just that you got claimed, and you're not happy about it.”

“How could I be happy about it?” You burst out, straightening your back as you whipped your head up. Your hands spread out in front of you and your heels dug into the ground beneath them. “I never wanted this life! What, I’m supposed to be grateful that my deadbeat dad finally showed up? That he finally ‘claimed’ me? What is there to be grateful for? That isn’t even the bare fucking minimum of being a parent!”

Luke tensed. You didn’t blame him. The gods were always listening, somehow omnipresent but not enough to be there for their own kids. Fucking ridiculous.

Against your better judgement, your rant continued, spilling out of your mouth like word vomit.

“It's not like I expect him to be there for every step of my life, but would it have killed him to show his face, willingly, just once? My mom works three jobs just to keep a place for the two of us to stay! What, he couldn't send child support every now and then? He's a fucking god! What good is being a god if you aren't there for the people you're supposed to be taking responsibility for?”

“Yeah, I hear that.”

You scoffed. “Sure you do.”

“I'm serious.” Luke defended, putting his can down on the ground. “I've only met my dad once, and even for a god he was kinda shitty.”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, fine. He was completely shitty.” Luke admitted. With a bit of hesitation, he elaborated further, fidgeting with a blade of grass.

“Before I came to Camp, I was on the run.” He said, a faraway look in his eyes, almost as if he were talking about a different lifetime. “It was me, Annabeth and Thalia.”

“Thalia as in..?”

“Yeah,” he said, a bitter smile on his lips as he glanced back at the tall pine tree that stood at the top of the hill. “That's her.”

You bit your lip as you stared at the pine. Now that you knew there was a story behind it, your mind played tricks on you. The branches were suddenly outstretched arms, the leaves spiky hair and you could have sworn you could make out the shape of a face in the pattern of the bark.

“This one time, Thalia was hurt, and we needed a place to stay for a bit. Since we were desperate and not really thinking straight, we went to my mom's place.” He sighed. “When we got there... I met him.”

Luke took a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowing as if just thinking about that moment physically hurt. “I'd known what I was for a while. Prayed to my dad a couple times, too, but he never got back to me. When I met him at that house, I asked him for help. I knew we wouldn't be safe at mom's. I asked him for guidance... and he said no.”

You nodded along with his words. The sun was beginning to set now, a light chill in the air. The sky was a golden orange, which bathed everything out of the shadows in a yellow light. Luke's eyes looked almost the same color as the light reflected off of them.

“If he'd just told us where to go then and there, if he told us about this place...” He trailed off. He clenched his jaw before drinking the last of his coke and flattening the can. “Thalia would still be alive. Living. She wouldn't be...”

Silence settled between the two of you again. Luke didn't want to talk about it any longer, and, as curious as you were, you didn't want to pry. But it was less awkward this time around, a mutual understanding connecting you both.

“Kind of a dick move.” You remarked quietly. To your surprise, Luke laughed.

“Kind of?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, total dick move.” You corrected yourself. You gave him a small smile. “Both our dads are jerks. Guess it runs in the family.”

“That's one thing.”

“Yeah? What’s the other?”

Luke shook his head, the corner of his lip tilting up into a half smile. “Maybe I’ll tell you later.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lame.”

The sky was turning purple now, a vibrant shade that leaned mire towards red than blue. Though soon it would be the other way around, and the harpies would come out to scare any campers who were out past curfew. You’d heard rumors that Mr.D allowed them to eat the strays sometimes, but you doubted they were true. Travis and Connor were still alive, after all. Though maybe they’d just never been caught.

Your run in with your father played on repeat in your head, each loop accentuating one horrible thing about it or the other. You fidgeted with the grass, ripping a few blades out of the ground. You bit your lip. Should you tell him about it? It would probably be good to get it off your chest. Plus, Luke actually understood how much this shit sucked.

“…You know what he said to me? When he saw me?” You finally muttered, deciding to trust him, just a bit. “He didn’t even recognize me, but I knew. The second I saw him, it was like something clicked. It took him a while, but when he made the same connection… He said, ‘shoot.’”

You laughed humorlessly. “‘Shoot.’ Like I was some piece of homework he forgot to do, and not his kid he abandoned before I was even born. I wanted to strangle him, I swear, but…”

You trailed off. You didn’t want to admit it, but your father was terrifying.

‘Watch the attitude.’ He had said, his hulking form growing until he was almost level with the trees surrounding him. ‘I don’t take disrespect, especially not from my own kids.’

I’m not your kid, you now thought, biting the inside of your cheek. He had never been a dad to you. As far as you were concerned, you didn’t have a father.

“I wished he were gone.”

…

You felt Luke’s gaze on the side of your head, practically boring holes into your skull. You glanced at him. Maybe you shouldn’t have told—

“You didn’t deserve that.” Luke suddenly said, a fire behind his words you’d never heard before. “None of us do.”

He stopped for a moment, his jaw clenched. Taking a deep breath, he turns his body towards you, facing you completely. There was no mistaking it now; there was gold swirling behind his blue irises.

“I have a proposition you might wanna hear.”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #pjo imagine #percy jackson imagine #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #pjo x reader #pjo #pjoverse #percy jackon and the olympians

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ep-the-penguin · 1 year

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[Child of the Endless]

└─── Headcanons──➤

[Published: Wednesday, November 23, 2022]

Pairings: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F. Reader

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: Light spoilers for the comic, a bit of a slow burn, implied child abuse/neglect (not with Morpheus), slight yandere themes/tendencies, also soft Morpheus (is that even a warning?), maybe a tiny bit of OOC Morpheus (who knows, you decide)

Notes: This is longer than I intend this to be, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Also, who else loves the idea of a darker version of Morpheus loving you platonically?

Eh? ...anyone...? Don't leave me hanging here... (༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Any comments, theories, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated and very much welcomed! Especially since this was my first time writing headcanons...

I also would appreciate it if you REBLOGGED my work instead of liking them. It helps not only me but others' works to be put more in the top spots of the tags algorithm, so our works can get seen by as many people as possible. Thank you for understanding!

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What it's like being Morpheus's, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams, adopted human daughter (unwillingly, mind you)... [Part I]

╚════════════ ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ═╝

⋅✦⋅ Dream isn't a being known to be friendly or open by nature, appearing cold, abrasive, and oftentimes self-obsessed. To most people and even his own subjects, he's a distant and somewhat intimidating guy, and they are right in a way. Even with his past relationships and the passion he had felt for each of them, it's so very rare for him to get attached to someone or simply show any kindness to anyone in general. Especially if we're talking about Dream before his one-hundred-year capture.

⋅✦⋅ After what became of his only son, Orpheus (and Calliope leaving their marriage because of this), he became colder and more reserved than he previously was. Of course, the pain he felt when each of his relationships had ended had hurt him, but practically losing a child (given his son was now just a head and disowned Dream as his father long ago), it's a pain that words can not even express. And because of this, Morpheus couldn't imagine seeing himself getting attached to someone ever again, let alone someone that, dare say, could bring about something he thought lost long ago…

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that drastically changes when he meets you. An ordinary human girl, of all beings.

⋅✦⋅ Your meeting with the Dream Lord could either go one of two ways. The first was that your father was working as a caretaker for Alex Burgess, and he didn't want to leave you alone with a sitter, so he decided to bring you with him to Fawney Rig in Wych Cross. There, you would hear rumors that Alex Burgess's Father captured the devil, and it resides in the basement. Sometimes you'd catch the guards carelessly talking about the supposed 'Dracula' they're being paid to watch over, intriguing you immensely. Not long after being in the mansion, you made a plan to sneak into the basement, where you were met with a pale naked man in a glass dome. His eyes were the first thing you noticed, they shined and burned like distant stars, slowly dissolving into a pale icy blue color the longer you stared at them.

⋅✦⋅ Or, after Morpheus had successfully retrieved all of his tools, he found himself sitting at Waterlow Park in North London, pondering on what his purpose was outside his function. The Lord of Dreams felt empty whilst he fed the pigeons and ducks with a loaf of fresh bread he brought with him. You were just a simple passerby, wanting to take a break from school work and the 'drama' that always occurs in your household between your parents, and that's when you randomly came across a man dressed in all-black moping. You raised a brow at the sight, curious about his sullen expression, but then saw him feeding the birds with the bread he had, which made you point out that he wasn't supposed to feed them bread, since it's bad for them. With that, you sat on the bench and began to talk to him, which earned you a weird look from him.

⋅✦⋅ You, for some reason, had immediately grabbed the Dream Lord's attention unlike any other being had before. There wasn't anything particularly special about you, just an average teenage girl. Because of this fact, it left Morpheus entirely confused, yet somewhat intrigued. Trapped inside his glass confinement, he watched with a careful gaze as you slowly approached him, looking around the place as you started to question him. Albeit you were a bit hesitant, more so confused if anything. At first, he had tried ignoring you and your questions just as he did with Roderick and his son. However, he couldn't ignore the genuine concern when you looked at him, someone who was but a stranger to you. It was the first time in his captivity that someone showed him any kind of concern for his well-being, someone who showed him kindness, even if it was small. In the park, Morpheus was less on guard now that he was free and more powerful than he was before, but instead of fully ignoring you and the questions you would ask him, he would answer vaguely, which ended up frustrating you, and to his surprise, he found your reactions quite amusing (he also found your little pouts adorable, not that he'll ever admit it, out loud anyway-).

⋅✦⋅ After your first visit to him, he found himself surprised by the gentle warm feeling slowly swelling in his chest. With imprisoned Morpheus, he was wary of you and your intentions, knowing that humans were all selfish creatures, and eventually you would ask him for something, just like his captors. But the more time you spent with him in the basement, talking to him even though he never answered, slowly softened his wariness of you. The more he thought about it, the more he understood that you being there with him was a great risk you were taking, not only for you but your father. You always set a timer on your wristwatch, and immediately leave once it went off, not before sending your goodbyes to him. With pigeon feeding Morpheus, he was curious about your random interaction with him and became more so at the thought of speaking to you again (even if you were the one doing most of the talking).

⋅✦⋅ Not before long, with each visit from you, the warmth within his chest seemed to grow bigger until he became extremely fond of you. At first, he tried to deny his care for you, then resenting you for unearthing a piece of him he had previously believed didn't exist as an Endless being (not that lasted very long. With one look at your face, that anger immediately demolishes into nothing but a distant memory). In truth, even with his previous relationships, he wasn't used to loving anything, and when he (not so) surprisingly found himself doing so, he firmly believed that he would eventually lose them in the end. Everyone that he had loved, that was supposed to love him back, had either one way or another abandoned or forsaken him, and it left him with a deep ache in his heart. However, with each visit from you, he realized this feeling, this fondness for you was the best for him. That you were the best of him, that caring for you was what made him painfully, yet so wonderfully human. Along with this, you had brought him hope, something he thought he had lost long ago. After everything he has been through, with his relationships and the tragedy that befell his son eons ago (and also his imprisonment), he never thought himself to be able to undoubtedly care for someone again, let alone a human child of all beings. You had quickly made your way into his Endless heart, without even knowing it.

⋅✦⋅ You became a constant figure in the Dream Lord's life, and he couldn't stop himself from seeing you. Not that he could in his imprisonment (nor did he ever want to). You were a very curious child, always showing how much you cared for him and his well-being, eyes shining brightly whenever you would talk to him as if his presence brought you happiness. And during this whole thing, Morpheus found himself unconsciously smiling more around you, staring at you with a soft look in his starry/icy blue gaze.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he remained silent but would listen intently to you ramble about whatever topic you had in your mind, making subtle movements and being sure you knew he was listening to you. One particular memory was engraved in his mind where his stoic demeanor shifted and you had seen a smile gracing his lips. At first, you appeared slightly shocked, but then, your entire face lit up at the sight of his smile, however small it was. He remembered so vividly how excited you had gotten, how proud you were to achieve making him smile, and promising that you'll make him smile again, but even bigger. Morpheus wanted to see that expression on you again, the pure joy you had, and it was all because of him simply letting out a smile. When he was left alone in the basement once more, he was quite taken aback at the thought that he was the one to make you beam so brightly.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he'd quietly listen to you talk, and would sometimes ask questions, and he couldn't help but feel pride swelling in his chest whenever your eyes would brighten up at his very simple questions. You'd become more lively, your smile widening with joy, and he noticed this particularly happened whenever the conversation was about your hobbies or the thing you found yourself enjoying recently. While you excitedly spoke, Morpheus quietly observed your expression, wondering when was the last time he had made someone this happy, had someone smile up at him with the brightest of smiles, eyes nearly glimmering with stars that were almost similar to his.

⋅✦⋅ As much as he cared for you, he was still careful to not get too attached to you. However, (surprise, surprise) that didn't end up happening. When Morpheus began to regard you as his child, seeing you as his daughter, he knew he had to quickly sever his connection with you, however great the ache in his chest hurt to just consider the idea. For he knew getting close to any human was a dangerous thing, not only for himself and his realm but for you. If he didn't, he'd have to watch you grow into the fine young woman he knew you would become, slowly growing older and older until his sister Death finally arrived and took you away to the Sunless lands. Or, the universe would see his affection for you as some sort of crime and end up punishing you, an innocent child, for his selfishness of not wanting to be alone once more. He didn't think he could live with the pain of losing another child again, having to be forced to watch you wither and die just like every other human that has ever existed before you.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, he could sever your relationship instantly, yet found himself hesitating when he was in your presence, waiting for the 'right time' to do it. Imprisoned Morpheus however didn't have that luxury. Instead, he forced himself to build up walls around his heart, for he knew the moment he was finally free, he had to immediately leave you and wanted to lessen that pain. He recognized that if he didn't do this, the pain would be too much for him to bear.

⋅✦⋅ However, all of that changed, depending on which path fate decided for you and the Dream Lord to have.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he instantly knew there was something wrong when you entered the basement with the lack of your usual bright greeting. Not even a smile was being shown his way. You quietly took a seat in front of him like you usually did, and that's when he noticed an old book in your hands. When he glanced at you in question, he found that you were avoiding his gaze, which confused him but more so worried him, especially when you finally did meet his gaze, you looked completely lost, guilty even.

⋅✦⋅ You apologized that you didn't realize it sooner, apologized for the wrongdoings that Roderick and his son did to him, and most importantly, that you were sorry for being so blind. Morpheus sat there, completely stunned by your little speech, but more so when your tearful gaze turned into determination as you declared that you were going to get him out of there. Morpheus felt his starry eyes water, his hope of being free, of going back home to his kingdom that had once seemed so far from his reach was now so very close, and that was all because of you. And you, a child that possessed such a rare and beautiful heart didn't ask anything in return, just for him to set things right for everyone. He slowly placed his hand on the glass, watching with a tender look as you placed your smaller one on the glass, smiling up at him.

⋅✦⋅ With free Morpheus, you two were walking through the park, the Dream Lord silently cherishing his last visit with you. You then suddenly pushed him aside, causing him to stumble for a very brief second. He heard you let out a noise of pain and saw you on the ground, along with a male and his bicycle on the ground beside you. The sight of you hurt, blood seeping from your now scrap and dirty hands caused something dangerous to take hold of him. That feeling grew, even more, when he saw the man that had slammed into you with his bike reach out to help you up. If looks could kill, the mortal that dared hurt you would have been dead right where he stood. And if his glare wasn't bad enough, his voice was.

⋅✦⋅ It was so cold, so full of barely contained wrath as he commanded the man to not touch you. Not only did this leave the cyclist and the people around you frozen in place, but it also left you feeling afraid of Morpheus, being unable to recognize the man in front of you. Without another word, he quickly yet gently picked you up (bridal style) and carried you out of there. You were surprised by his actions but mostly embarrassed as you tried hiding your face in his chest, from the eyes of the people there. You asked him about it, but he didn't say anything, bringing you to a quiet area where he carefully tended to your wounds.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus knew then and there that he couldn't leave you, your love for him was far too precious to abandon. He made a promise to himself that very day that he was going to love you for all eternity, that he would do better, for you deserved that and much, much more.

⋅✦⋅ Whenever you had to leave him, to avoid getting caught by the guards or to head back home and start on your homework (or how you would put it, to avoid your parents arguing about your whereabouts), it left him feeling immensely saddened by it. However, you would always playfully tease him, asking if he was sad, which would either have him send you a pointed look or quietly scoff, denying such a claim of being sad, even though you both knew it to be untrue. You'd reassured him that you would always come back, and you did

⋅✦⋅ Until one day after growing completely attached to you, you suddenly stopped appearing.

⋅✦⋅ At first, he thought you were late since it wasn't the first time it had happened, which you'd apologize for it. But as time continued to pass, with no sign of you coming, Morpheus began to grow worried.

⋅✦⋅ Even if you were late, you never missed a meeting with him. What could have possibly happened to cause you to miss it? But Morpheus, with the hope you gave to him, allowed himself to calm down, believing that you'll show up the next day. He knew you wouldn't just stop out of nowhere, especially if we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus. Yet that didn't stop the ache from building deep within his chest at the thought of something bad that could be happening to you.

⋅✦⋅ One day turned into two, then three, then four, and by the time he knew it, it had been a week since he last saw you. His concern grew to the point where he was nearly distracted from his duties, mind clouded by endless thoughts of you.

⋅✦⋅ With imprisoned Morpheus, he'd silently sit in his glass confinement, his thoughts always circling back to you, to your silly little rambles, your quiet and adorable laughs, your precious smiles. He was so used to being alone in the basement (alone in general, let's be honest here), sitting in the silence he had forced upon himself. However, the longer you were away, it started to become torture for him. And this can be said for free Morpheus. He'd quietly sit on the same bench you two always sat on, mindlessly watching the people there as his thoughts would go to you. Sometimes his raven Matthew popped in because Lucienne, his librarian, sent the male bird to check up on him.

⋅✦⋅ Perhaps you had simply grown bored of him, finally finding someone willing to spend time with you and listen to your conversations. Someone better, someone who wasn't him. It wouldn't be the first time. If we're talking about imprisoned Morpheus, he would feel even worse as those thoughts plagued his mind. Why would someone, let alone a human child, want to spend your time with him, someone who's trapped in a glass prison and doesn't say anything in response to you and your questions? Or maybe you have possibly changed your mind about freeing him. You didn't owe him anything, you only stumbled upon him through your own merits. That last thought alone sent him down a deep, almost dark spiral.

⋅✦⋅ Morpheus had tried finding you through your dreams (even if his powers in the basement were very weakened), yet he couldn't find you. By this point, the Dream Lord was beginning to become quite desperate to see you again, if only it was for a second. He never felt like this before in his entire existence, as if his Endless being needed you by his side for him to continue onward.

⋅✦⋅ When you were, one way or another, back in his life once more (and imprisoned Morpheus no longer in his glass confinement), there was a heavy weight lifted off his chest, as if he was allowed to finally breathe again. Upon seeing your face, nothing can ever compare to the enormous joy he felt, and at that very moment, Morpheus would make certain that you would never leave his sight again. Your unexpected absence from him for the first time since knowing each other made him understand that he simply couldn't live without you, his precious child. He couldn't bear the pain of you being far from him, where he couldn't find you or make sure that you were safe. You are far too important to the Endless.

⋅✦⋅ After that whole incident, the Dream Lord began to send his raven Matthew to watch over your waking life, sometimes even watching you through his companion's eyes (much to the raven's annoyance). When you went to sleep, Dream would personally watch over your dreams, making sure no nightmare dared to enter the beautiful dreams he carefully crafted especially for you.

⋅✦⋅ Too many times the Dream Lord found himself being affected by the thoughts of you one day leaving him as everyone he had ever loved did, disowning him as his own son had done eons ago. It all had hurt him at that time (though, he'd never admit it), but just the thought of losing you, of you hating and abandoning him, causes him a great deal of pain at just the mere thought. He couldn't possibly imagine going through that again, knowing that there would be nothing left of him…

───────────

Would anyone be down for a more detailed version of the two different meeting scenarios? Separately, of course. I think it's a pretty neat idea, considering I would have more freedom to further expand the relationship between Dream and the Reader in the different meetings, whichever fate has decided for them to have.

But what do you guys think? I would absolutely love to know!

Until next time my dear readers!

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mayullla · 2 years

Text

Title: The Wisp

Character(s): Venti (Genshin Impact)

Summary: Haunted Doll au; Instead of sleeping in your grandfather's arms you continued to stare at the closed room.

Note: Okay this is the last one for the week- probably-

Warnings/tags: Grandfather pov, child!reader, fem!reader, horror, platonic yandere

Haunted doll au masterlist

Your grandfather cradled you in his arms, both your mom and dad had appointments at work to attend to that day and had asked your grandfather if they could leave you with him. Your grandfather was kind enough to say yes as he did enjoy his time with his little granddaughter.

Right after your mother left you at his place, your grandfather planned on letting you take your afternoon nap slowly rocking you so that you would fall asleep.

Yet you did not.

Your grandfather frowned, he thought that having the doll Zhongli in your arms you would be able to peacefully sleep yet you continued to stare at something. Holding Zhongli tightly in your arms you continued to stare at a certain door.

When he asked you if you wanted to go there, there was a shine in your eyes that told him your answer.

Your grandfather thought your interest was innocent seeing the last time you went there was when you got Zhongli, he took you to that room. Slowly opening the door he showed what was inside.

The space was almost like a long corridor with glass shelves on each side and each shelf had dolls in them some cracked, broken and some complete yet piled with dust and lifeless.

The curiosity on your face as you looked at each one of them and then your grandfather, your curious eyes that stared at him as if asking what they were and why they were here. It made your grandfather wonder why he understood your thoughts when he didn't even understand his son when he was your age.

Your grandfather was quick to chalk it up to experience, something that he gained after so long. Smiling at you he walked towards one of the glass panels so that it could be easier for you to see the dolls that were inside. "These dolls here are dolls that I could not sell. Dolls that broke down due to time and age because of poor materials back when I was young and dolls that did want to be sold."

You glanced at the dolls again inside the panel where dolls of all kinds but there was one in particular that caught your eyes. Your grandfather looked at the doll you had your eyes trained on too and smiled "That doll is called Venti. He was supposed to be a pair with another doll. They were supposed to be together... a small boy and his little wisp."

Your grandfather adjusted his hold on you, yet your eyes continue to look at the doll. "It was unfortunate really but while I was in the progress of finishing the boy with an arrow and bow the… hmmm how to say light? The light suddenly disappeared."

Your grandfather looked at the doll with regret, the cheerful smile the doll had yet it looked so dead. He remembered giving this particular doll to his teacher when he was young and his teacher told him that there was something odd about this doll, that even tho everything was meticulously made there was something in that doll that somehow died that your grandfather's teacher told him that he would never be able to sell this doll.

"Back then I thought that it was a shame to throw a doll like this that I placed wisp light into it." The shrieks after that time were terrifying as if it didn't want this at all and that it wanted to be free but your father was young back then, he didn't understand and was too stubborn as he forced the light into a casket it could not accept.

The crying that came after it kept the old man awake for days but at some point, the sounds of tears and pain died down to what sounded akin to sniffles even tho it sounded more like ringing to his ears.

Maybe that was why he was desperate enough to try and sell it, he wanted nothing to do with the sounds that were irrupting to that doll nor the crawling feeling it gave late at night as if something invisible was trying to choke him...

It got better, slowly but he could not look at the doll anymore placing the doll in the center stage of the shop so that there was a possibility that it would be gone in the next few days.

Yet no one gave interest in it even tho everyone could see that he worked hours and hours on it. As if something was making them avoid looking the doll eye to eye, even when he placed the doll right in front of them they would see the doll and even with its light and cheerful smile on the face, there was not even a hint of interest.

"Ah… ah…" Your grandfather was brought back to reality when he head the small sound you made as you reached out for the doll only to be blocked by glass. "Wah… Ah…"

"Do you want it?" Your grandfather asked in surprise. "Uhn!" You continued to slam your chubby hand to the glass as if you could break it so that you finally hold the doll that was behind it.

Your grandfather was hesitant but something compelled him to open the glass as if something grabbed his wrist forcing him to move yet not so and take out the doll from its stand. Moving the doll near you, with one hand still holding Zhongli you reached out with your other hand.

There was guilt in your grandfather's heart yet his curiosity was unending as he gave the doll to you.

When the doll was placed on your arm, you soon fell asleep leaving your grandfather alone in the room.

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ursafootprints · 1 year

Note

What draws you to the starker pairing? I was browsing the tag the other day and encountered drama about others thinking it’s romanticizing a wholesome father/son relationship… I’ve never seen it that way but maybe it’s my fatherless eyes that skew it. LOL! I know pairings don’t have to be canon to be enjoyed so I’m curious what you like about starker and what made that switch flip for you.

Oooh, so many reasons! (To… the point that I'm putting up a read-more because it got very long, haha.)

Some of them only minimally have to do with Tony and Peter themselves-- I enjoy age-gap ships and mentor-mentee ships in general, so that was already a built-in appeal.

For age-gap ships, there's a special kind of Spicy that comes from "forbidden love" narratives where the "forbidden" part is actually warranted-- it's not just based on societal prejudices like forbidden love based around homophobia/racism/classism; there are some pretty legitimate reasons why major age gaps tend to be a bad idea! Characters being put in a situation where they've found someone that they love deeply, but acting on those feelings means potentially alienating their other loved ones over very real concerns (instead of just bigotry or w/e), but they want/love each other so much they can't resist going for it anyway even though they understand it's a bad idea? Delicious, feed it to me slowly like grapes.

For the mentor-mentee thing, I really love the process of relationships changing from one category into another category, where the boundaries of the relationship blur and shift and the characters have to grapple with what it feels like to suddenly redefine their view of the other person/their relationship/their interactions. I love this even for platonic relationships (any scene where a teacher/mentor realizes that they're actually on equal footing with their student/mentee, or even being surpassed by them, is chef's kiss) but especially for romantic ones! And obvs that pairs super well with the age-gap thing, since the shift from viewing the younger partner as "a kid I have to protect/keep an eye on/put up with/mentor/whatever" to "someone I could have an adult relationship with" goes right along with that and is the perfect set-up for my favorite ship seasoning: g u i l t.

(I also enjoy incest ships for all of these reasons, so the fact that Tony and Peter's relationship in canon can be read as a kinda-sorta parental surrogate thing is not actually a neutral factor for me, lmao.)

So Starker is partially just a perfect platform for themes that I'm already inherently attracted to, but then you add in the specifics of their actual dynamic/characters and mmmm.

Peter being a superhuman/superhero and what that does to their dynamic when Peter's already grown up too fast in so many ways? (And what the fact that Peter is actually at an utter physical advantage compared to Tony does to the Vibes, whether you're using it to balance out the emotional power imbalance in softer Starker or showcasing just how strong that emotional imbalance is when Tony doesn't need to actually be "stronger" than Peter to take advantage of him in dark Starker?)

The parallels in their experiences (orphans, superheroes) and personalities (sass, scientific genius, being huge fuckin' goofballs despite the scientific genius, guilt/responsibility complexes a mile wide)? The way that affects Tony, seeing this person so much like himself but without all of the parts that he uses to keep people from getting too close? The way it allows them to understand each other so deeply, and to have to go easier on themselves, when they can see their own habits reflected back at them in the person they love?

The fact that Tony literally canonically invented time travel to get Peter (and Peter specifically) back, and died to do it?!?!??!?!

Well, fuck! You've got the recipe for a ship that I'm still actively writing for over a year after first getting into it, I guess.

(Though this is also why I'm generally not into no-powers and other full-canon-replacement AUs for Starker-- every facet of their canon dynamic makes the ship even better for me, so mundane AUs or same-age AUs or outright villain/SIM Tony etc. etc. rub off some of the polish from what I like about them! I do genuinely love that Starker fandom has so many different flavors of Starker to sample, though, even if a lot of those flavors aren't ones that I'm gonna try.)

tl;dr: it's a good ship brent.

Thank you for the ask 💖💖💖

#ursa asks #meta #starker

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lizzybeth1986 · 2 years

Text

Eleanor's Kitchen

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: None. Queen Eleanor & Prince Liam (mother-son), Queen Eleanor & Joëlle Theron (platonic), Prince Liam & Kiara Theron (platonic)

Rating: PG for one cuss word.

Summary: Eleanor and Liam get a visit from Joëlle and her daughter Kiara, along with a few surprises. (Takes place a few weeks after Chapter Two. Liam is seven years old, Kiara is five)

Note: In this series, Hakim, Joëlle and Kiara's surnames are spelt Thorne. People close to Constantine call him "Kontos".

Series: Eleanor's Kitchen

Word Count: 3,532

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week

Tagging @choicesmonthlychallenge for the May Challenge - Day 31 - smile | macaroons | "This isn't goodbye"

Chapter 3: Djaj M'qualli bi Zeitoun

Today is one of those rare days when Liam finds both himself and his mother in a bad mood, near-identical pouts jutting out from their lips.

He suspects Mum's has something to do with a phone call today from Duchess Joëlle Thorne, instructing her strictly not to cook, because this time she wants to be the one bringing food. Mum had practically forgotten she was Duchess Joëlle's Queen and got on the verge of pleading, several times. But the other woman, miles away on holiday in France, would not budge.

I think I know where Kiara gets her stubbornness from, Liam thinks to himself - remembering his sometimes-playmate who always drove hard bargains during their "toy trade wars" and beat him, Drake (and Maxwell whenever his father Duke Barthelemy brought him over to the palace from Ramsford) in raucous games of football.

He almost-smiles at the memory of the three of them stomping off the palace grounds after yet another defeat, but the sudden flash of memory of a recent state dinner abroad, sitting next to his older brother, makes him scowl again.

Seven tagines. Seven alone this year, and Liam has lost count of how many people have fed him tagine over the past year. And each one with such a lovely, glowing, expectant look on their faces that he hasn't had the heart to tell them that he's hated tagines ever since that first tongue-numbing bite (Mum would later wonder if the cinnamon might have been a little much on that dish, but then brushed the idea off, being the Biggest Cinnamon Lover Ever) at a diplomat's house in Fez last March. Some of the dishes had ingredients he loved (apricots. shrimp. meatballs) and things he would never touch (prunes), but that first awful experience haunted him every time he took a forkful, making him dread even the possibility of going somewhere where it could be served.

"You could just say no," Leo had once said, smirking. That little shit, Liam had murmured a phrase he'd picked up from his own brother under his breath, knowing his parents would take offence at the last word, and Leo at the second. It would be so easy. He could go tell Mum right now and she'd make sure everyone - palace chefs, Heads of State, everyone - stopped bringing him tagine, court protocol and social embarrassment be damned. After all, she's now grown suspicious enough to ask. But he can't.

This is a game the brothers have been playing ever since Liam turned four: you never let the other side know they're winning. Not unless you wanted to everyone to think you'll forever be the little baby around here, always crying to your mother.

He will never admit to Leo how much he hates it, and he will never admit to himself that over the last few months he's begun to hate it a little less. So now, whenever the tagine gets laid out on the dinner table, warm in its brightly-patterned pot alongside a bowl of jewelled couscous, Liam defiantly stabs the meat, staring his older brother straight in the eye as he forks it into his mouth. You lose!

Mum is still flicking her thumb over the other fingers on her hand now, lost in her own thoughts. It takes her a couple seconds before she speaks. "Joëlle loves the Cordonian Ruby, Kiara likes puff pastry. I could make them chaussons aux pommes to take home!" she says in a low, triumphant whisper.

Liam stares at his mother in confusion. "I thought Auntie Jöelle said no cooking."

Mum shrugs her shoulders in a rare show of childlike glee. "What's she going to do, fly a plane back to stop me?" she says, and Liam can tell she's already keeping a mental note of the ingredients, "By the time she gets here, we'll make her a dessert she can't refuse."

For a split-second when Auntie Joëlle and her daughter arrive, Mum seems to search for something behind them, then at their faces, with a rapidly dimming smile. But the look is so fleeting Liam wonders if he'd imagined it.

"Where's Uncle Hakim, Mum?"

Mum's hands involuntarily tighten on his shoulders at the question, it is a smiling Auntie Joëlle who answers. "He's in a meeting with your father, Prince Liam."

Mum greets little Kiara with a warm hug, before moving back and admiring her hair. Kiara's half-ponytail zigzags in waves along her shoulders, her heart-shaped face framed on either side by thin long braids studded with tiny butterfly clips. A very tiny topknot adorns the top of her head, and Liam can see small braids covering it too. She looks very pretty and very proud of her mother.

"Now you're just showing off, Jo," Liam can hear Mum whisper, chuckling. "You've really outdone yourself this time. And that dress!"

"Butterflies and ladybugs," Auntie Joëlle grins, waving her free hand in the general direction of Kiara's bright red frock, dotted with tiny ladybugs. "Her latest passions."

"My cousin Céleste saw this in a magazine and asked her maman to do it," Kiara whispers to Liam, fingering a green butterfly on her braid as they walk towards the table, "so I asked mine. Maman got all the clips from back home too."

"Lots of butterflies come to our garden but you won't see a lot of them now," Liam whispers back, "ask Auntie Joëlle to bring you in the morning next time, Drake and I play everyday there."

Kiara gifts him a wide, sunny smile, showing off the gap from her first fallen baby tooth. "Okay!" Liam is amazed at her confidence; he was only a year older than she is now when his first milk tooth fell, and he couldn't open his mouth in front of anyone for weeks.

"I've been hearing from several people that this is Prince Liam's favourite," Auntie Joëlle says, and Liam's heart sinks to his stomach as she opens one of the parcels of food she brought with her.

Of course!, Liam mentally kicks himself for forgetting, I should have known! Uncle Hakim is half-Moroccan!

The thick gravy is an inviting deep golden brown, coating tender, browned pieces of chicken. The pickled lemon slices glisten moistly, and the entire room is filled with scents of citrus and caramelized onions. If only this wasn't -

"- tagine?" Liam says, realizing too late, and to his horror, that he sounds just as disappointed as he feels. Somehow without Leo around and without spite to drive him, Liam can't find it in him to pretend.

"Oh," Auntie Joëlle's voice sounds soft and bemused. She looks at him blankly for a few moments, then shifts just as quickly to a cheery smile and an overly-bright tone. "Well! It's good I have backup then!"

Liam looks towards Kiara, but she's staring at the tagine instead, mouth pursed and eyes wide.

As Auntie Joëlle quickly rummages for something else, Mum moves closer to her and mouths a "sorry". "I've had a bit of a suspicion for a while, but he's always told me very strongly that he liked that dish."

"It's alright," Auntie Joëlle whispers back, taking out a small box. When she opens it Liam can already smell the citrus notes in the air intensify, but this time it's oranges. "I should have asked you first. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"You did save the day by bringing dessert," Mum says smiling, her hand on Auntie Joëlle's shoulder. Kiara is still suspiciously silent, but Liam can see a pout growing, and she looks at him like she's caught him cheating at tag.

"If there's one thing we all know for certain, Elle, it's that your youngest has the biggest sweet tooth in the palace." She laughs, then turns to Liam. "Have some meskouta, cheri. I know you like nuts and honey, so we got you an almond-orange cake, with a little honey and orange blossom water."

She lays the cake on the table, letting him admire its simple golden hue, studded with green-pink pistachios.

"Don't worry about the tagine, we can save it for the rest of the -"

Kiara finally speaks up. "Prince Liam doesn't like tagine?"

Her voice is pitched high and drips of disappointment. He's heard Auntie Joëlle tell Mum and Leo about Kiara's growing love for the dish since last year, but she's always been the kind that took opinions she didn't agree with with a shrug, before moving on to something else. Except, it seems, when it comes to playing tag. And tagine.

"How can you not like tagine!" Kiara turns to her mother, aghast. "Maman, do you hear this??"

Auntie Joëlle shakes her head, looking at Kiara in a mixture of exhasperation and fondness. "Oh, you're just being dramatic now, ma fée. Not everyone has to like it!"

Kiara's raises her chin and scowls in defiance. "Well I think that's just a vatful of mer-"

"Language, Kiara!"

Her mother's eyes narrow dangerously at her, and Kiara freezes mid-sentence, before frowning and folding her hands on her lap.

"- mercredi," she mumbles instead, sulkily.

Mum turns to Auntie Joëlle as they leave the children to move towards her private kitchen. He can only barely hear them. "Was she about to say merde?"

"Yes. Only five years old, and already managed to pick up that kind of language. I ought to have a word with her brother...when he's back from my sister's house in Loire," she hisses, stealing an apologetic glance in Liam's direction. Ashamed at being caught eavesdropping, he turns away. "I just hope le petit prince doesn't find out what that means."

Relaxed now but still pouting, Kiara turns to Liam. Her tone is low and a little grudging, like she thinks she's being too nice. "When did you have tagine?"

"The first time was last year," Liam murmurs resentfully, his foot tapping rhythmically against the table. "I hated it. My tongue went numb."

Suddenly thoughtful, Kiara softly clicks her tongue. "My worst tagine ever tasted like that. Maman said that was because it had too much sin...sin... ugh! -" she groans in frustration, "the brown curly stick. I forget what she calls it."

Liam giggles quietly. Already he can hear Father's booming voice in his head, telling him that's not how boys laugh. But he's sure Kiara won't mind. "I think she meant cinnamon."

"Mhm. This tagine doesn't have that. Maman said you wouldn't like it."

Liam's eyes widen. "How would she know?"

"She says you always ignore the things on the dessert table that use a lot of it."

I didn't even know that. He shifts a little in his seat, uncomfortable but a little touched that Auntie Joëlle noticed something about himself that he hadn't. And the dish does look and smell lovely...and she did take the effort to make him not one, but two, dishes.

Would a tiny taste really hurt? Besides, he'd always thought he hated tomato pasta until Uncle Franci gave them tomatoes from his uncle's farm.

Liam sighs in defeat against his own thoughts. It certainly wouldn't hurt to try.

He tears a piece of very soft, very fluffy khobz, and dips a little bit of it in the sauce, letting a little bit of chicken fall like butter off the bone. He eats it slowly, gingerly, waiting in dread for that odd, tingling sensation on his tongue to hit.

It never comes. The sensations that hit his tongue make his tastebuds come alive rather than numbing them. The chicken and the gravy mesh and dissolve in his mouth as he takes one bite, then one more, then several; the hum of spices wrapping his entire body in a blanket of warmth. And underneath it all, a subtly silky sweetness, one that he decides comes from the browned bits he can spot atop the tagine.

"Daghmira, my Jiddah used to call it," Kiara finally speaks after finishing off her own meal, looking very smug. "She'd cook onions until they were dark and sweet and sticky like jam. So goooooood."

Liam's laugh comes out in a closed-mouth, satisfied hum, his mouth full and his spirits high and his tongue ready to leap out of his face from the medley of flavours it has been greeted with. Between the two of them, the tagine bowl gets empty quite soon.

The two of them make quick work of the almond-orange cake too. It's a moist, dreamy slice of heaven, dissolving easily on his tongue, the earthy, nutty bitterness of the almonds blending with a flavour that is sweet, and bright, and quite floral. Kiara's right - you can't pick out the cinnamon from the medley of subtle spices infused into the cake - the saffron, the cardamom - it's a gentle caress of that spice rather than a punch in the face. Liam used to think coconut macaroons were his favourite Moroccan dessert, but his dreamy confection of a dessert seems to be beating them hollow.

Mum and Auntie Joëlle return to empty plates and a pair of talkative children, their moods both considerably more subdued than what it was when they left. For a minute Liam feels like Mum's eyes look a little reddened, and Auntie Joëlle's smile a little weaker, a little more tired...but he quickly brushes it aside when he sees just how impressed they are with all the food their children managed to finish.

"Did Liam eat some of it too?" Joelle says, her face breaking out into a smile.

"He ate half," Kiara tells her mother, raising her chin and looking very proud of herself. Liam forgives her easily for her smugness this time - at least for the flavour of that tagine still lingering on his tongue.

"It was very nice," Liam tells his and Kiara's mothers, smiling for real, "I liked the cake too."

Mum says nothing, simply beaming, her hands clasped in a single clap. She shares an amused look with Auntie Joëlle, then gasps and leaves, almost like she's just remembered something - only to return with a little box of apple turnovers. Kiara immediately makes a beeline for the dessert, asking her mother if she can sample some right now.

"Elle?" Auntie Joëlle gives her a very pointed look, "what did I tell you before I got here today?"

Mum suppresses her laughter, gently nudging Auntie Joëlle with her shoulder. "You're the one who gave me that recipe. Of course I'm going to show off!"

Kiara, already full from the chicken and the cake, seems to have an extra stomach for desserts too, because she has already begun sinking her teeth into the crisp puff pastry. She does not forget to wipe the crumbs from her mouth delicately with a handkerchief like a good lady-in-the-making would. "Please tell Her Majesty to show off more."

When Mum (looking a little more exhausted than usual) tucks Liam into bed that night, Liam allows himself a tiny, triumphant smile. He isn't sure whether tagines will ever replace tomato pasta and fragrant fish stew for his favourite dish - he isn't even sure if he will like it that much later, or whether Auntie Joëlle's cooking was just that good - but he is sure of one thing.

When he is served his ninth tagine this year, and Leo smirks across the table in anticipation, his older brother will be in for a surprise. This time he's not going to just stab that meat with a fork, look Leo square in the eye and eat the damn tagine. He's going to fork that tender piece of meat into his mouth, look Leo square in the eye, eat the damn tagine and enjoy it.

I win!

Some time earlier....

The first thing Joëlle does when she enters Eleanor's private kitchen, is to close her eyes and breathe in deep, as if to memorize the scents of this place.

"Mon Dieu...it even smells like you."

Eleanor laughs nervously, trying hard to cover her trembling hands by busying them with the cabinets. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Cinnamon...black pepper...vanilla beans...dried roses...coffee. Can a combination of those smells ever be considered bad?"

Her laughter is a little louder, a little more genuine this time. "Far cry from our university days. When both our rooms used to smell of new books and old clothes we never wanted to throw away?"

Joëlle nods, sighing at the memories. "And then we got married."

Eleanor's smile dims. "To a Duke and a King. Who would've thought." It's hard, thinking about Hakim and Constantine now, remembering a time when the two were her and Joëlle's seniors, distant, mysterious, only visible through fleeting glimpses. And you would almost never catch a glimpse of those two apart. Every university event, every auto race, they seemed joined at the hip. Kontos would tell her later how his first month in university was also his loneliest, having been tutored all his childhood in private, and how much Hakim had cared for him, helping him with class notes and giving him company when other classmates were too intimidated to approach him.

The irony, Eleanor thinks as she runs a thumb over the rustic wooden surface of a kitchen counter, that two men so close together can look each other in the face and hardly recognize what they're seeing. For the millionth time, she wonders at the role his new friends...advisors - whatever they are, the lines are so blurred now - have to play in this, and at her own failure.

It hits her like a punch in the chest. Her guilt is suddenly so intense that Eleanor looks away, unable for a moment to face her own friend. Her mouth twists in a grimace and she presses her lips tight together, as if that attempt will stem the tears she knows are coming.

"Elle?" Joëlle says softly, "Are you crying?"

"No." Damn this voice, Eleanor thinks, hating how hard it's always been to hide the tremor in her tone.

Jo sighs. "Is this about Hakim and Kontos? Am I right in assuming you're beating yourself up over their friendship again? As if you don't have enough on your plate already?"

"I tried to talk to him before you three came here," she says, still unable to face Joëlle, "and I don't think it worked. I know it sounds like another excuse, but -"

"Excuse??" Joëlle whips around to face her, her face rife with confusion, "Ellie? Who told you that? Just where are you getting these ideas from?"

The tears now stream down her face in freeflow. "I'm trying. To help Kontos realize just how valuable Hakim is to him. To make him see what he'll lose if he gives up such a friend...such an ally...for two people who I know in my bones he can't trust. But I feel like I'm not trying hard enough."

It isn't just about saving a personal friendship they've seen from afar - both Eleanor and Joëlle know that. There is a vision of what this country can be - beyond the tribalism, beyond the suspicion and naked fear. They both know they want Cordonia that doesn't simply think about barely surviving from day to day, but feels safe enough to create. To share. To thrive. Hakim is the only Great House member far-sighted enough to understand that.

Joëlle covers Eleanor's hands in her own. "We know you've been trying, Elle. Doubting that is out of the question. I'm saying you shouldn't have to."

Eleanor looks up, incredulous, "You're... you're telling me to stop trying?"

Joëlle shakes her head, running a hand through Eleanor's hair before resting it on her right cheek. Her face is such a medley of conflicting emotions that Eleanor can't single out just one. "No, Elle. I'm saying stop holding yourself responsible for things you can't control."

She winces. "I don't understand."

"I knew you wouldn't. That's just how you are," Jo lets her hand fall, turning away, "You're trying. Hakim is trying. But ultimately the decision to honour that friendship...that lies with Kontos. And he is his own man. If he decides he doesn't want Hakim - he doesn't want us - then that's his decision, Elle." She turns around to Eleanor, worry for her old friend shining in her eyes. "I want you to be certain that when..."

Eleanor winces.

"...if nothing works out, you will know you gave this your all. And we both know you didn't need to. Neither Hakim nor I will love you any less."

Speechless, Eleanor can do nothing but hug Joëlle, sobbing weakly on her shoulder.

"Promise me," Joëlle whispers to her before they leave the kitchen, even though they're the only ones in the room, "Promise me that the compassion you show everyone else... you'll at least start showing a fraction of that to yourself."

Eleanor opens her mouth to argue this, then closes it. "I'll... I'll try."

Hakim comes out of his talk with Constantine, not too long after Joëlle and Kiara are done with their meal. Eleanor can tell, from the bleakness in his eyes and the strained lines around his mouth, that it didn't go well. Still, he doesn't hesitate to smile at her and Liam when he's about to leave, and she's comforted by the small gesture.

It's a comfort she doesn't yet believe she deserves...but it settles her heart a little, nonetheless.

She serves the rest of the tagine that night, beaming as Liam eats it with genuine enthusiasm, frowning at the thought of Leo (he's out late and avoiding his father...again), and looking back innocently when Kontos asks her, his face giving away nothing, whether this dish came straight from the Thorne house.

"Yes," Eleanor replies, "yes, it did."

A corner of his mouth goes up the tiniest bit. "I can tell," he replies, taking more bites and refusing to say any more, pointedly not seeing the small smile on his wife's face, "Good tagine. Good tagine."

Recipes:

Classic Moroccan Chicken with Preserved Lemons, Olives and Daghmira (Onion Sauce) from the Taste of Maroc blog.

Recipe for Meskouta from the book The World Cookbook: The Greatest Recipes from Around the World.

Translations:

French:

Chaussons aux pommes - French-style apple turnovers

Chéri/Chérie - Darling

Ma fée - My fairy

Merde - Shit

Mercredi - Wednesday. But in this context, Kiara is using it to cover up the above cuss word

Le Petit Prince - literally, the Little Prince, also a reference to a book of the same name.

Mon Dieu - My God

Darija/Arabic:

Djaj M'qualli bi Zeitoun - Usually used to refer to a chicken tagine with preserved lemons and olives, made in a traditional tagine clay pot. Djaj means chicken, m'qualli is a cooking technique that involves frying, and zeitoun means olives.

Meskouta - A traditional Moroccan cake, often served for teatime, featuring a range of ingredients. It's usually made in bundt shape. The popular ones used almonds or yoghurt in their base for the batter, and the most popular flavourings are lemon, orange/orange blossom, or vanilla.

Khobz - A type of bread

Daghmira - Sauce made of caramelized onions. In tagine it's used as a topping.

Jiddah - Grandmother. Kiara is using this to refer to her paternal grandmother, and Hakim's mother.

Reference hairstyle for kid!Kiara in this chapter:

#choices fanfic #king liam #prince liam #eleanor rys #joelle theron #kiara theron #the royal romance #the royal heir #series: eleanor's kitchen #choicesmonthlychallenge #cfwc fics of the week

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doctorwhoandfairytaillover · 2 years

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Contempt: Ire

Summary: Revelations are made to Revna and painful truths are told.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader (romantic?), Revna x Reader (platonic)

A/N: A little short, but I think I made the point of how things are developing between everyone in this little family

--------------------

It was quiet as Revna sat at the table, (Y/N) was feeding Arnar small spoonfuls of mashed fruit and Ivar was eating, while occasionally glancing at his wife. A steaming plate of food was placed in front of her and she eagerly dug into her meal, enjoying the moment of calm before she knew her mother would inevitably barge in angrily and demand to be served.

But as she ate and almost finished her meal, it was apparent that her mother wasn’t coming to eat breakfast with them. She looked to her stepmother and then to her father, glancing toward the door.

“Is my Mama sleeping in? Or is she refusing to eat with us again?”

Ivar glanced at his wife and then turned his daughter’s chair to face him directly, “Your mother will no longer live here and you shall continue to be raised by (Y/N) and I until you are grown.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion and her mouth twisted as she thought it over, “Will I have to leave and go with her if I don’t behave or when you don’t want me anymore?”

Getting up from her seat and placing Arnar into his father’s arms, she kneeled in front of her stepdaughter. “Do you think we would rid ourselves of Arnar because he’s fussy and misbehaves?”

“No, because he’s your son”

(Y/N) smiled gently, “Exactly. And you are my daughter, so why would I rid myself of you?”

As if a dam had burst, Revna leapt into her stepmother’s arms and wailed in both grief of the life she had lived and joy to be considered (Y/N)’s child alongside her younger half brother. Lovingly her stepmother carried and rocked her, humming soothingly to help calm her down and for her cries to slowly fade. Ivar approached them slowly and carefully handed (Y/N), Arnar in order to ease himself to sit on the ground beside them.

“I have - “ Ivar hesitated, “I have not been as good of a father as you would have liked but I will do my best to be better. I want to be a good father to both you and your brother, if you will let me.”

Revna avoided his gaze and hid her face in the skirts of her stepmother, for a moment, it was calm as (Y/N) held both children in her arms. Arnar babbled happily and showed his father the spoon in his chubby fist, while Revna sniffled quietly.

“I never had a Papa before, but I had a mean Mama. I had hoped that when we came to live here that my Papa would be strong, very smart, and love me a lot” her eyes were accusing as she turned to him. “But you’re nothing like I hoped and you don’t deserve (Y/N), Arnar, or me! And I hope she will realize it too!”

Pulling away from her stepmother, Revna ran away and left her family in a tenuous silence over her words. Jaw clenched, Ivar looked over at his wife obviously upset that things had not turned out as he had hoped. She laughed and began to walk away with Arnar still babbling in her arms.

“You know she is right, it’s up to you to fix things before I listen to her.”

Tag List:

@pinkrockstar19 @thenightperson @xbellaxcarolinax

@youbloodymadgenius @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @mrsalwayswrite

@pomegranates-and-blood @quantumlocked310 @ietss @fxirybubble

@anonymooseforever007 @seraphqueen123 @moonrifles

#contempt #ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar imagine #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings x reader #x reader #x reader insert #x stepmom reader #mild angst

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trutrustories · 3 years

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Okay, this will be probably long and with many errors (my english isn´t very good) But I saw several posts here on Lokius tag, talking about this ship as result of gay fetish, and about non existing chemistry and how this ship doesn´t make sense etc… And from what I understood there is tagged Lokius because of genuine interest to understand others point of view, so here is mine: I wil try to explain where my frustration comes from, and how I feel about Lokius, Sylkie, AND representation + some other things which I saw here somewhere. But first of all: I like Sylvie, I don´t hate sylkie shipers, and after so many years reading fan fictions, I don´t mind selfcest – I read weirder things. I have some issues with this ship (the mainlythe fact that it isn´t Lokius), but this is not one of them. Also, I am not about to tell anyone, they shouldn´t ship sylkie.Ship whatever. And I LOVED the show as a whole.

I just want to defend my standpoint, that Lokius does make sense, people shipping it does make sense and whether it will happen or not, (I don´t have my hopes very high, and I learned to be very skeptical in this regard ) it is more than just about crack ship, or fetish. I´m honestly blown away that people are still surprised that this ship became a thing :D First of all, let´s look at some romantic story telling and tropes: I mean the way they introduced them in the first two episodes set the tone for all series and how the heck this isn´t romantic? Somehow there are all these romantic tropes existing in a show. They´re just there. Just chilling between Loki and Mobius and large portion of audience can´t even see them. (and some of those tropes were used for Sylki as well, so you could actually see them side by side)

For example: 1) traveling to the apocalypsis 2) breaking law/rules for the other 3) literally changing for the better thanks to the other 4) arguing like old married couple 5) saying secrets, personal things to the other 6) sharing glances, touches, visibly being happy around each other - in case of Loki happier then we´ve ever seen him before 7) being completely themselfs around each other 8) One knowing everything (even the worst) about other and still accepting him completely 9) teasing, being comfortable and domestic around each other 10) one being literally enthusiastic FAN of the other 11) Mobius defending Loki whenever he has a chance 12) Freaking amnesia trope that they pulled of in the end??? (It could be different Mobius, but point is he suddenly doesn´t know him - and Loki knows more, in contrast with the beggining) 13) the jealousy in ep4 14) Misunderstanding - when Mobius thought Loki betrayed him and Loki (thanks to Ravonna) thought Mobius betrayed him... 15) witnessing death of the other and being absolutely broken afterwards 16) The goodbye hug with romantic music in the backround 17) Saving life of the one (even when it means problems for the other ) - like Mobius saved Loki´s ass at least three times when he was trying to stop others from pruning him. 18) sharing deep conversations about meanings of life, freedom and how it would be fun to make some chaos and ride that fucking jet ski!!! 19) Inspiring the other 20) looking for each other (Mobius didn´t believe for a second, that Loki would die in the Void and the way how in the last minutes of the series Loki run through all places they were together when he was looking for Mobius... and I could go on. Point is, even if they are not planning to make Lokius canon, all these things are used on a daily basis to describe romance in media and they are used here. On top of that it´s just very poetic and cute, that this drama queen and powerful god of Asgard who looked down on people would find his match in someone, who is so quiet, ordinary on the first sight, and basically is just human from 90s, who loves jet skis. Mobius can´t even fight. But is highly inteligent and he also happen to be as good manipulator, such as Loki himself. - That´s why they work together so well. Mobius sees right through him and once Loki understands that, he drops his evil persona. Almost nobody expected to ship it for real. But story itself and chemistry between them just made it probably the most exciting duo in the whole MCU. And I mean it genuinely. Third episode, even though it was beautiful and Sophie was great in it (and is literally dipped in bisexual colors), is the least favorite for a reason. And that reason being, there is no interaction between Loki and Mobius whatsoever. Lot´s of people though that series slowed down a bit. Even when in fact there was more action, then when we watched Loki and Mobius working at the TVA.

(and let´s just talk about evil!Mobius narative for a bit and how some people say he is manipulative and toxic for Loki: show itself explore heavy themes and one of them is in Loki´s line: no one bad is ever truly bad and no one good is ever truly good. And as a theme in a fictional world, it is working as it should, for the story. When Loki and Mobius meet, one of them just killed lots of innocent people and destroyed almost whole city. The other one is a part of fascist organization – and in the beginning of the series they both believe what they´re doing is right. They´re both bad, they´re both good, they´re both broken. And they are changing with the help of the other.) From all reactions I watched - and there was many of them, lots of people actually didn´t see dynamic between Loki and Sylvie as romantic in the third episode. So it´s not like Sylvie and Loki had unequivocally love story right from the start.

The only difference is that lots of people won´t see romantic tropes, when it comes to two men in a mainstream show – show that isn´t primarily about relationships and problems that queer people has to face. Because in super hero story and science fiction we have to warn audience, that they´re about to watch two man in love, right? At this point It´s just frustrating really. There were many M/M dynamics that used similar story line, as for example Lucifer, or X-files, or Bone collectors. - But unlike those M/M pairings, no one was making fun of people for shipping main characters in these shows. But when it comes to two men suddenly you´ll see from all corners of the internet: “why can´t it be just platonic?” “There is not enough platonic relationships” “why can´t two man just be friends?” (They can and they almost ALWAYS are) and “if you think there something romantic between them, you´re delusional” “fetishist“ “And for god´s sake just let them be friends, Loki needs a friend more then....” oh wait, but Sylvie is allowed to kiss him. Sylvie doesn´t have to be just friend. (And I must say, that I love Sylvie, I liked most of the interactions between her and Loki and I think she is a great character ((I hope we learn more about her in the future)) it just doesn´t work for me as well as Loki´s dynamic with Mobius. Maybe partly because of chemistry between actors, partly because combination of characters and they´re personality and also because I had two whole episodes to fall in love with the pair before Sylvie was even introduced.)

First of all: people can be friends and then evolve into lovers. Not only it is common romantic trope, but it is also the most realistic one. And those relationships are usually strongest. second: If people want to see Loki in a platonic friendship so desperately, why can´t it be a woman for a change? They were acting like chaotic siblings for most of the episode three anyway. The age gap aspect is also very funny. Owen is only about 12 years older (That is not that much. But I imagine, some people would get uncomfortable. But If it was man and woman, most of them wouldn´t even blinked. But two men, that has to be somehow automatically son and father figure dynamic) And If you want to dive into age of an actual characters, then good luck with that in a series about gods, variants and time travel. Almost nobody cares about age gap between Lucifer and detective Decker, or Bella and Edward. On top of that, it was heavily implied, that Loki slept with older, silver haired guy in Ragnarok, so it´s not like he would have problem with that.

Different standards are projected in a way how we see romantic dynamics between fictional characters depends on what we are used to, how are we perceiving world around us, what we are expecting to see and ALSO, what we would like to see, that much is true. When people are used to make no differences between heterosexual and homosexual pairing, then everything what happens to the characters is measured with the same meter. (Even though I experienced queerbaiting many times (( Once upon a time, Sherlock, Supernatural, Good Omens – the last one hopefully is not the case, but I guess we´ll see)) I also saw lots of lgbt shows like Queer as folks and Sense8.) And when we are not used to see it the same way, well… then it looks basically like that one comment under Castiel´s “I love you” scene on youtube, that said “what a beautiful friendship”.

If we forget about all that chaotic mess behind the scenes (all those articles and contrary messages) What is happening in a show between Loki and Mobius can be objectively considered romantic and what is happening between Loki and Sylvie in a series can be objectively considered platonic (until the kiss) and vice versa. And then to see comments about how absurd it is to even think they have chemistry, and about gay fetish - it´s hard to swallow. I read posts about absurdity of a ship and how there is absolutely nothing that would suggests romance. Well there is, actually. But whether creators are going to work with it or not, that´s something we can only speculate. They already made Loki officially bisexual. So why should it be so absurd to assume, that there is an actual possibility of romantic subplot between Loki and Mobius? Oh right… it´s Disney and Marvel we are talking about.

So on a subject of bisexuality: Bi people can date whoever they want. But It is a little frustrating, when there is so many heterosexual pairings in the mcu and disney but when there is a promise of lgbt character (speaking of endgame) we get one line about date from a man we´ll never see again. And when there is a promise of lgbt representation you can´t even blink during movie, or you´ll miss it (Star wars, Beauty and the beast). And then Loki said “A bit of both, I suspect the same as you”. And I won´t lie, I was happy. And I think creators made biggest step yet with this one line (which is honestly terrible, that “a bit of both” coming from Loki of all people, is the biggest step forward.) But they played it VERY safe. Obviously, both Loki, and Sylvie are bisexuals, and in three episodes, we had Loki flirting with female flight attendant, Sylvie talking about her relationship with POSTMAN and then they fall for each other. So the only thing that suggests they are really as bi as Lamentis 1 is that little sentence, that can be edited out, or easily overheard. It´s the bare minimum. And I think that frustration with how freaking slowly we´re moving into some progress is understandable. From all those great M/M dynamics I talked about, those, that could make great love story, nothing happened, because too many people “don´t mind gays but don´t need to look at them” or are scared for their children. In 2021.

It is not a fetish to wish for a gay love story in superhero movies/series. (But anyway, I don´t think there is anything bad about it. Some men like to watch lesbian porn, some woman like to read gay porn. AO3 wouldn´t be were it is today, without people reading and writing slash :D – but that has little to do with what we actually see on tv)

I´m not delusional. As much, as I love these two characters together, I know how little chance it has. I´m not delusional. I´m just in the future, old and tired, waiting hundreds of years for at least one of my OTP to finaly become a fucking canon.

#Lokius #loki series #LOKI AND MOBIUS #mobius m mobius #loki

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giggles-and-freckles · 3 years

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my fic masterlist

decided to do this for my own sake more than anyone else’s because sometimes I have to make sure the idea I get at 3am isn’t one I’ve already written hehe. anyway, a lot of these are on my ao3, but I’m also going to try and track down some of my TuMbLr-eXcLuSiVe fics, too. I’ll update this as often as I remember (so, uhhh–)

In-Progress: Not On A Consistent Updating Schedule Bc Abi is a Mess ™

midst of the mind – Anakin has always had a pretty good understanding of his feelings, even if he's not particularly disciplined in acting on them. But things surrounding the Chancellor seem to be off and Anakin's determined to get to the bottom of it. With a little help from his friends.(or: fix-it ROTS fic where Ani, Obi, and Padmé take down the Chancellor one fake smile and late-night tea party at a time)

evermore – "dreamscapes and tragedies and epic tales of love lost and found" within the lives of our favourite space fam. (or: TAYLOR SWIFT LITERALLY OWNS MY SOUL, OKAY?) (unrelated one-shots based on taylor swift songs ha)

filling the gaps – after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

Obi-Wan & Ahsoka: Best Father-Daughter Duo In The Galaxy According To Me (because let’s be honest...that’s why I’m here) (tagged: #obi & soka)

filling the gaps – *in-progress multi-chapter* after the horror of Naboo, Obi-Wan has flipped from Padawan to having a Padawan in a matter of hours and he's not sure how much longer he can pretend like he's okay. thankfully, this one spunky youngling who keeps popping up in the corners of his life seems to know what to do. (or: baby!Soka unknowingly helps new Knight!Kenobi figure things out and braids his hair along the way)

playing catch – Ahsoka finds an old friend on Tatooine and has lots of questions. they cry a lot. obi-wan tells some white lies. they get the hugs they need. (Obi-Wan & Ahsoka reunite on Tatooine)

all too young – during a bout of insomnia while on Onderon, Ahsoka gets some advice and insight about her Master. (or Obi-Wan hears Ahsoka laugh for the first time and they get to have a snuggle and he absolutely spends the entire next day training the rebels trying not to cry thinking about it every dang time he sees her.)

hologram heart-to-hearts – we see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka have a conversation via hologram in the final season of tcw, but what if there had been...more?(three-parter) (basically Obi and Soka keep in touch after she leaves the Order and there’s...a lot of emotions involved)

little love – a sort of follow-up to hologram heart-to hearts; Ahsoka sticks her nose into the wrong Alliance meeting and discovers a certain Jedi is alive and on Tatooine of all places, so she places a long-distance call.

bad days – Ahsoka tries to squeeze out of her Grand Master exactly what happened on Mortis. and, as always, Obi-Wan is powerless to deny her anything, no matter how painful that truth may be.

sleeping with monsters – Ahsoka is having a hard time sleeping after her time on Felucia, so Obi-Wan offers a solution.

chance meeting – Obi-Wan is up late researching for his Master in the archives when a certain sneeze–and pair of big blue eyes–catch his attention.

‘drooping eyelids’ prompt fill – Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have a conversation about attachment while Anakin’s missing. they (plus Anakin) get some platonic cuddles.

‘dancing’ prompt fill – they attend a senatorial gala without Anakin because he’s feeling grumpy grump after deception arc fall-out. Obi realises that there are still things to be thankful for.

sorrow – Ahsoka feels the full weight of loss as she clutches her Grand Master’s dead body. (deception arc FEELS!!!!)

‘I do not pretend to set people right, but I do see they are often wrong’ prompt fill – *trigger warning: death of children; Obi comforts Ahsoka after they witness an atrocity of the highest order.

the silence between — Ahsoka gets assigned to the 212th as her Master recovers. Unwanted quality time with her Grand Master doesn’t go as planned.

untitled ‘Obi & Ani role reversal au’ ficlet — Padawan Obi-Wan pays a visit to his best pal Ahsoka in the crèche.

‘falling asleep on each other’s shoulder’ prompt fill – the summary says it all. fluff!

'I don’t wanna die’ – Obi-Wan comforts Ahsoka in her pain. *tw: implied major character death

‘I made tea’ – Anakin is off-world so it’s up to Obi-Wan to take care of his sick grand-padawan.

sorry for the soup – post-deception arc. Ahsoka stops by Obi-Wan’s quarters to check-in.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: The Early Years (tagged: #obi & ani)

figuring it out – Anakin learns waking Obi-Wan up can sometimes be a good thing and Obi-Wan learns that maybe everything's going to be okay. (padawan!ani & new dad knight!kenobi)

if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more – Anakin overhears a conversation he wasn’t meant to hear and lashes out in response. lots of hurt is uncovered and Obi-Wan hears some hard truths from his Padawan. angst, angst, angst...but with a hug.

reading lessons – the team takes a trip to the archives to find some reading material. Anakin is adorably insecure.

cold – Obi-Wan and Anakin have their first solo mission, but in typical Kenobi & Skywalker fashion, it does not go as planned. Exasperated Obi-Wan and Won't-Shut-Up Anakin are put to the test by deep space and a completely out-of-fuel ship. (or some more fluff where padawan!ani and new knight!kenobi get to try and figure out how the heck this master-padawan thing WORKS. hint: it's not easy!)

playing hooky – angel baby Anakin breaks Obi-Wan's heart and it's not for the last time...womp wooooomp.

like you – sweet, angel baby Ani gives himself a haircut and Obi-Wan deals with the aftermath. (I’m copying and pasting most of these summaries directly from ao3 and cracking up because I called Anakin a sweet angel baby in two in a ROW hahah)

fun? – the Jedi Council gives Obi-Wan his newest orders as a young Jedi Knight and he struggles to understand them. he was instructed to take his new Padawan and...have...fun?

go away/please stay – Obi-Wan has been disappearing for solo missions more and more often and Anakin's starting to wonder if it's more than just on request of the Council. (or: can you say TEEN ANGST!)

‘forehead kisses’ prompt fill – Anakin stumbles upon his Master having quite the nightmare, so he handles it the way his mom always handled his own nightmares. with patience and affection.

unnamed NAP TIME fic – Obi-Wan gets home from a solo mission early to find his bed occupied.

‘sweets’ prompt fill – Anakin gets a little ambitious with his choco-ball indulgence.

‘fuzzy socks’ prompt fill – years after arriving at the Temple, Anakin still hasn’t quite adjusted to the cold. Obi-Wan gets him a gift to help. (really just an excuse for some obi ani banter)

‘snowball fight’ prompt fill – Anakin takes his boredom to the next level, much to his Master’s chagrin.

untitled Anakin sickfic bc I’m not feeling very creative right now – the team goes on a mission but Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan is ultimate mother hen and Anakin makes an observation.

got germs – sickficlet where both of our best boys are sick.

you’re okay – just some classic protective parent!Obi-Wan and teenaged son!Anakin post disaster.

‘you lied to me’ – angstpril day 13. Anakin really wants to go to Ilum and make his lightsaber...but is met with disappointment.

random sickfic – because we all know Anakin is the most annoying sick person in the world.

don’t struggle – the ship is crashing, as usual. but this time, Anakin’s seatbelt is stuck. *tw: implied major character deaths

relic – sith!Obi au. *tw: major character death

aspectabund – Anakin’s eyes betray him and his Master.

Obi-Wan & Anakin: Brotp But Also Idiots Who Don’t Know How To Communicate (still tagged #obi & ani)

define ‘attachment’ – while the dads esteemed Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker wait for Ahsoka to wake up, they talk about attachment, worry, and that time Ani caused an accidental security breech at the Temple.

favourites – Obi-Wan has been tasked with telling Anakin of his special assignment to keep an eye on the Chancellor, but he gets sappy and sentimental in the process because these conversations are hard.

after all these years – Obi-Wan tries to talk to Anakin, but it doesn't go well. does this sound familiar OR WHAT? (post-decpetion arc angst)

brilliant – Anakin is having a difficult time adjusting to his new mechno-arm for one very specific reason. (the boys communicate properly in this one and even get a hug as a treat!)

sober words said aloud – Anakin's meeting with the Council is interrupted by his highly intoxicated–and wildly affectionate–Master. (crack fic turned fluff)

‘you’ve been crying, I can tell’ prompt fill – Anakin makes the mistake of checking in on his Master after a particularly grueling mission. it doesn’t go well. (or: Obi-Wan loses his sh!t)

going somewhere? – Obi-Wan catches Anakin on his way out for a midnight rendezvous with a certain Senator. Anakin makes a quick decision and chooses Obi-Wan. sweet words are exchanged on a sentimental walk.

shaking hands – in the immediate wake of Ahsoka’s departure form the order, Anakin...isn’t okay. Obi-Wan tries to do something about it. (post S5 angst)

untitled platonic tired cuddles/back scratching fic – Anakin resorts to an old tactic to make his Master rest.

sun shine on – Obi-Wan and Anakin take a little trip to Tatooine to visit Shmi’s grave. (post-ROTS fix-it au of sorts)

pushing it too far — Obi-Wan calls Anakin for some help when he takes ‘intel’ too seriously and ends up drunk on a street in lower-level Coruscant.

whump prompt fill – Obi-Wan looks after Anakin after a near-miss. They talk.

‘was it another premonition?’ – Obi-Wan dreams of Luke. He wakes up to Anakin.

post-mortis angst – Anakin remembers. *tw: implied suicidal thoughts

angstpril: ‘you have to let me go’ – Anakin and Obi-Wan are stuck in a pit. only one of them can make it out alive. *tw: implied major character death

role model – post-deception angst. Obi and Ani talk. it doesn’t go well.

here either way – conversations about mental health. *tw: panic attack

hiraeth – Obi-Wan walks alone. *post ROTS

Anakin & Ahsoka: Dream Team Sharing One Single Brain Cell (tagged: #snips & skyguy or (for the really angsty) #its crying about snips & skyguy hours)

that one person – (my first fic!) Anakin gets assigned to lecture a class of younglings, but he's not the only one who doesn't want to be there.or Ahsoka Tano is done with Jedi sh!t and tries to leave, but this time it's just a classroom and not the entire Order and there's a lot less tears and pain.

here and now – the Force has tried to swallow Ahsoka Tano three times. it's hard to be the last one standing. (or Ahsoka feels the death of three important men in her life and is tired of being left behind) *tw: major character deaths (canon compliant and not depicted, only mentioned)

whumptober: crying – Anakin comforts a distraught Ahsoka after her disaster mission over Ryloth.

reaching out – Anakin is always there...until he’s not. Ahsoka reflects on how different it is fighting and living without Anakin at her side. (angst)

help would come – Anakin and Ahsoka get stuck on an ice planet and things get dire. I chalked this full of parallels to the final conversation between Ani and Luke bc I love pain, I guess?

whump: ‘i’ve got you’ – Anakin pulls Ahsoka from a nightmare.

zen!Anakin ficlet — Ahsoka visits Anakin in his new job as Galaxy’s #1 Dad (well Plo Koon still exists so maybe #1.5?).

right as rain – Ahsoka insists she is fine when she is distinctly not.

snoozeville – Anakin and a few boys of the 501st find their Commander catching some extra z’s.

stitching up – Ahsoka performs some in-the-moment surgery for Anakin and he tries not to scream. *tw: field surgery

‘platonic spooning’ prompt fill – do I need a summary after that?

sad hours: dancing – Anakin and Ahsoka dance in the aftermath of tragedy.

rainy ending given to a perfect day – Anakin and Ahsoka take a trip into downtown Coruscant.

Anakin and Padmé: Abi Tries and fails To Write Romance (tagged: #anidala)

not enough – Anakin has a hard time with the Mortis fall-out. Padmé doesn’t know how to help someone who doesn’t want it. some painful connections between Ahsoka and Shmi are made. (angst, no happy ending, trouble in paradise)

I will not have this baby in a jail cell – some fluff, some crack, some Anakin-being-so-proud-of-his-badass-wife.

marcid – domestic fluff in which Padmé almost shoots him. ha. oops!

rubatosis – angsty anidala hours. Anakin can’t go to sleep.

Obi-Wan and Satine: Abi Tries and fails some more To Write Romance (tagged #obitine)

don’t go – Obi-Wan makes a choice. *year on the run timeline

that’s mine – some happiness AU obitine. waking up next to each other. laughing. all the sappy stuff.

accidental keldabe kiss – all the ridiculous tropes I love with our favourite pining idiots. it’s the ‘kiss me so they don’t see us!’ trope!!!! *year on the run timeline

you’re shaking – Satine knows Obi-Wan more than he’d like. *year on the run

Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, Padmé: Space Found Family In Whatever Form It Comes

i want your midnights – the gang attends a New Year's banquet (read: party) and Padmé surprises them all with her midnight kiss.

flair for dramatics – when the gang gets their ship stranded on a desert planet, Anakin and Ahsoka get creative as they try to keep spirits up and minds off the sweltering heat. Obi-Wan questions his sanity. (crack fic turned fluff)

nothing a cup of tea can’t fix – when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former Padawan and Grand Padawan are. (or: Ahsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit.) (sickfic)

in the sandstorm – when Tatooine's weather takes a turn for the worst, Ben Kenobi finds a young boy in need of shelter and some lessons on how wonderful his dad had been. (luke and obi-wan hurt/comfort)

remembering hurts – Rex and Ahsoka strive to survive on the snowy moon in the days after Order 66. tensions are high and emotions are volatile.

balter – disaster trio dances at a senatorial ball.

reunion – au where Anakin doesn’t completely turn to the dark side but everything up to and including Mustafar (except for the last like...five minutes) happens. Padmé has the twins, Obi-Wan is overwhelmed, Anakin is a mess. they’re happy...or at least, they will be soon.

‘cookies’ prompt fill – disaster trio makes cookies for the crechelings for Life Day. (just fluff and banter)

first ever codywan! – Cody does some bedside vigil for a hurt Obi-Wan. :’)

transponster – disaster trio is tired and delusional. Rex and Cody want Jedi to have some kriffing self-preservation.

one final salute — Obi-Wan and Cody get trapped. Obi-Wan’s luck is running out. (angst? angst.)

codywan whump – Cody saves Obi-Wan’s life. again. (more fluff than whump)

girls’ night – Ahsoka hangs out with her mom pal Padmé.

driving lessons – Obi-Wan and Anakin teach Ahsoka to drive. ha.

affectionate obi – the kids get Obi-Wan a puppy. fluff!

sorry I don’t speak idiot – Rex and Fives deal with a drunk Echo :’)

post deception disaster trio sadness – Ahsoka tries to keep Obi-Wan company in the aftermath of Rako Hardeen...but Anakin isn’t playing nice.

verklempt – Ahsoka and Yoda talk about being chosen. and Ahsoka finds out maybe she hasn’t been left behind afterall. *pre-TCW

apricity – disaster trio have a picnic at the temple! just pure fluff.

pyrrhic – codywan but make it angsty. some battles are won at too great a cost.

disaster trio sickfic – two Jedi dads and their (sick) daughter :’)

‘you’ve been here this whole time?’ – newlyweds anidala (but shh, Obi-Wan doesn’t know that! yes he does, everyone does.) are there when Obi-Wan wakes up and he ownders just what he did to get so lucky.

Febuwhump 2021: A Foray into Hurting the Characters I Love the Most

mind control – Anakin’s narrative as he fights Ahsoka on Mortis. sad boy hours. a lot of insecurity happening here.

‘I can’t take this anymore’ – during the Obitine (plus third-wheel Qui-Gon) year on the run, Satine gets tired of Obi-Wan trying to die for her. a bit hurt/comfort, a lot sappy.

imprisonment – on their first mission together, Obi & Ani get captured. Anakin learns how Obi-Wan feels about tight spaces.

coma – post deception arc. Obi-Wan goes into a coma after a particularly intense conversation with Anakin. Anakin tells Obi’s unconscious body how he’s feeling. angst, angst, angst. there’s your warning.

‘take me instead’ – Anakin escorts Padmé on a diplomatic mission but things get dicey and quick decisions must be made. Anakin isn’t the only one in this relationship willing to be an idiot for the sake of *love.* (or: another attempt to write Anidala in a convincing way because they give me a tough! time! so this time make it...dangerous)

insomnia – Anakin overhears a late night holo-call and learns that his Master has a...friend that is a girl???? and is pretty???? but also that his Master may need some fixing and he thinks he may just be the nine-year-old for the job.

poisoning – Ahsoka gets drugged and Anakin gets...er...angry. (read: dark)

‘hey, hey, this is no time to sleep’ – as Ahsoka and Anakin wait for help, Anakin tells a story. an ancient monster in the heart of Tatooine...waiting for it's day of reckoning. (or: Ahsoka gets dehydrated and Anakin can't deny his hurting sister/padawan anything so he talks a little bit about home.)

buried alive – Anakin reflects on some things as his Padawan tries to rescue him from the rubble. angst!!!!!!!!!

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know’ – the Council loses a planet and Obi & Ani get tasked with finding it, but after nine hyperspace jumps and a painful discovery, Obi-Wan teaches his former Padawan one more lesson. (or: the boys talk about failure and feelings when Obi-Wan finds out Anakin's mechno-arm has been causing pain for a couple years)

hallucinations – Ahsoka tries to fix things. it doesn’t work. (post-order 66) angst

‘who are you?’ – Anakin and Ahsoka rescue Obi-Wan, but things aren’t okay and Obi-Wan doesn’t recognise Anakin. (or: Obi is tortured for information about the fall of the Republic before it happens and goes a bit mad bc of it)

‘I didn’t mean it’ – Obi-Wan learns how cold and unfeeling his young Padawan thinks he is and has a rough day. angst

burned – Anakin mourns the loss of his Padawan in a tactile way. Obi-Wan watches. (or: Anakin throws Ahsoka’s Padawan beads into a fire)

‘I wish I have never given you a chance’ – Obi-Wan is reminded of his own incompetence through a vision form his old master.

you have to let me go – Ahsoka has one heirloom: a hologram of her old master as a padawan. but it’s time to let the past go and step into the future, with help from an old friend.

#my fic #maybe I'll go give creative names to some of these prompt request fills someday but #probably not #anyway I definitely should have been doing things other than making this tonight but HERE WE ARE #:)#also at the time of me typing this I have 49 fics listed on here #which is so crazy to me #bc I just started writing in september and if you had told me I would have 50 fics in five months I would have laughed at you #and its so fun and cringey to look back at some of these #its only been a few months but my writing has CHANGED #(hopefully for the better?)#anyway yay! an organised archive!#sw fanfiction

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that-bts-fan04 · 3 years

Note

Hey! I was scrolling through Marvel tags, and I saw your requests for prompts and pairings and stuff. I'd like to request a platonic father-son type relationship ficlet, male reader self insert, with: 8; Person A: Is that my shirt? Person B: You mean our shirt? And 17; Can we cuddle? I was thinking more of a sweatshirt thing with the "our shirt" by the way, if that makes it any easier.

Sweatshirts - Clint Barton x Teen!Male!Reader

My masterpost

A/n: I wanted to thank this amazing person for requesting this! This is going to be my first male reader request. For the request it wasn’t really specific on who they wanted as the father-like figure so I decided to put Clint because he doesn’t get enough love. I also wanted to try doing more than one POV, like I have been doing but I’m not too sure how it turned out. As always, if you have any requests, check out my masterpost! So here's your story you requested @merlynn-consultingdisaster Anyways, on with the story.

Song Recommendation

Prompt(s): 8. Person A: Is that my shirt, Person B: You mean our shirt; 17. Can we cuddle

Warning(s): None

--------------------------------------------------

Clint POV:

As I am walking around the compound, trying to find Y/n. I believe he had stolen my sweatshirt that I had sitting out for later. It was colder than normal because the heat system that Tony had installed, broke. Y/n was the only person I knew loved that sweatshirt and he often took it. I finally found Y/n in the living room with blankets on himself. “Hey Y/n, you wouldn’t happen to know where my sweatshirt is, would you?” I ask him. “Nope.” He responded. I decided to just let him be and do what he was doing.

A few hours later I go back to the living room and see Y/n sitting up without the blankets on him. “Is that my sweatshirt?” I ask him. “You mean our sweatshirt?” He replies back. I roll my eyes. “I don’t know how I deal with you kid. You always steal that sweatshirt.” I say.

Y/n’s POV:

I look down at the sweatshirt and then look back at Clint. “Would you like your sweatshirt back? I can give it back if you want.” I tell him. He shakes his head at me. “No kid, it’s fine. I don’t need it right this moment. Just make sure to give it back then.” He says. I nod. “Well I’m gonna do some training with Nat. Get some sleep, you look tired.” Clint tells me. I grab some blankets and lay back down. “Good night dad.” I mumble, right before I fall asleep.

Clint’s POV:

I smile as I see Y/n fall asleep and him calling me dad. I run to the training room and see Nat with her arms crossed. “What took you so long?” She asked me. “I was with Y/n, and he had stolen that same sweatshirt again, and then he fell asleep, but that’s not the best part!” I tell Nat. She looks at me like she’s waiting for an explanation. “He called me dad.” I say. Nat smiled. She knew about how I already viewed Y/n as a son and this just made me very happy. “Well, that’s amazing, but we need to get started with training or Fury will be on our asses.” She tells me. I sigh at that but get to training. After about an hour and a half of training I head out of the room and go to my room to get changed.

Y/n’s POV:

I woke up and noticed that Clint was on the chair next to me. I look at him and smile. He’s always been like a father to me. He looks back over at me. “What’s up kid? Are you hungry or anything?” He asks. I just shake my head. “Can we cuddle? I know that sounds weird coming from a teenager but I had a bad dream.” I tell him. He didn’t even hesitate to come over and sit with me. We sit there for a while before I fell back asleep.

#the avengers #clint barton x reader #clint barton #clint barton x teen!reader #natasha romanoff #tony stark #marvel x reader #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #mcu #avengers x reader

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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

I Don’t Feel Alive (1)

Masterlist

Pairings: Jake Peralta x sister!reader (platonic), Rosa Diaz x fem!reader (romantic), Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago (also romantic)

Summary: Jake has always loved and adored his sister more than anyone else in the world. You’re the first person he runs to with good and bad news, which is why it breaks his heart that he has to find out on his own that you’re struggling with addiction. Inspired by this blurb, and Luke and Nell from The Haunting of Hill House!

Warnings: mentions of abusive foster parents and physical abuse

A/N: decided to post this a day early because in all honesty, I’ve waited far too long to start this series already. anyway, excited to hear everyone’s thoughts on this!

One thing Jake never expected to receive was a younger sibling. With his parents constantly fighting and his father spending less and less time at home, he assumed he’d be the only Peralta child for a long time, possibly forever. Then you came along.

Karen Peralta was just Mrs. Peralta when you met her, and she was the art teacher. You liked her, part of the reason being that she complimented your painted butterflies and trees often. The words “talented” and “advanced for your age” were thrown around a lot, especially when it was uncommon for a four-year-old to grasp the concept of coloring inside the lines (or at the very least inside the borders of the paper).

You felt yourself beginning to latch onto her a bit. Staying a little later in her class because hers was the last of the day, and the bell meant you had to go home to a horrid family. Your birth parents were removed early on in your life due to some kind of trouble that no one would explain to you. Part of you missed them, because at least they were nicer than the next set of adults you were placed with.

You were a quiet and well-behaved child, an act you learned in your foster parents’ home because anything else earned a physical punishment. Therefore it wasn’t met with much pushback when you arrived at school one Friday with cartoon themed sunglasses covering part of your face. One teacher tried to take them away from you and immediately quit when she was met with screaming.

When you entered Mrs. Peralta’s class, it was different. She greeted you with a compliment, but her concerned gaze lingered on your profile as you walked by. Class went normally until the bell rang, and she waited until the students filed out to approach you at your desk, where you were packing your things as slowly as possible.

“I had fun today, Mrs. Peralta!” you told her with a big smile as she sat next to you.

“I’m glad to hear that. Although it wasn’t as fun to me, not being able to see your whole face.” She paused, watching you begin to squirm in your seat as your expression of joy faded. “Do you mind taking your glasses off for me?”

The room fell silent as both of you held eye contact, only broken by the heartbroken sigh from Mrs. Peralta after you slid the sunglasses away from your face. Just under your right eye was a small purple patch.

“Who did this to you, honey?”

A whimper fell from your lips, your grip tightening on the object in your hands. Your foster father told you not to take them off at school and you did anyway, so you were sure to get in even more trouble when you got home.

“I can’t say! He won’t like it.”

“Do you mean your dad, honey?” The teacher carefully questioned, and you slammed your tiny fist on the table as tears began to stream.

“He’s not my dad! She’s not my mom!”

Other incoherent words began to pour out of you in the form of loud sobs, and Mrs. Peralta pulled you into her arms as you became nearly inconsolable. She gave you some time to let everything out, waiting until you were quietly hiccupping in her lap to wipe away your tears. She whispered some encouraging words as she helped you clean up the rest of your things, and you slid your glasses back on while you patiently waited for her to make some phone calls.

Within a couple hours, your few belongings from your foster home were packed and placed in Mrs. Peralta’s trunk by your social worker, who explained and promised that you weren’t going back to your foster parents. Instead, you were going to live with Mrs. Peralta (or Karen, as you were allowed to call her outside of school), her husband Roger, and their little boy Jacob.

You held Karen’s hand tightly as she led you to an apartment door, squeezing a little harder when it opened and there was a boy a little taller than you on the other side.

“Hi, Mommy! Who’s this?” he asked as his attention turned to you, noticing the way you hid behind his mother.

“Jake, this is Y/N. She’s going to be coming home with us, and I’ll tell you more later. Why don’t you introduce yourself while I talk to your grandma, okay?”

Karen gently nudged you toward him as she let go of your hand, and you followed him over to another little girl around the same age.

“Who’s this, JJ?”

“I’m Y/N,” you offered quietly, occasionally glancing at your shoes.

“Mommy says she’s coming home with us. This is my best friend, Gina,” he tells you with a grin.

“The one and only.” Gina offers you a grin of her own as she quickly shakes your hand. “I wish my mom would bring me a little sister.”

“I’m not his sister,” you spoke a little louder and Jake turned to you with a frown.

“Why are you gonna live with us then?”

“So I don’t have to go back to the bad people.”

Jake didn’t quite understand it, but he felt a bit of sadness settle into his heart for you. He started to feel a little guilty for those times he complained to Gina about his father missing dinner and bedtime a few times a week, now that he’d had his first realization that some kids didn’t even have parents to go home to.

“You’ll be safe at our house. My mom is really great and my dad isn’t always home but he’s nice, too. And I’m really good at fighting bad guys.”

Karen caught Jake’s words as she approached the three of you and couldn’t help but smile at the way her son seemed to care for you already. It only strengthened her belief that she’d made the right decision.

Tags: @halfofwhatisayismeaningless @xetherealbeautyx @gaulty74 @ochrythum @makapaka11 @marie-03 @creepingwolfberry

#jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x fem!reader #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta x amy santiago #rosa diaz #rosa diaz x reader #rosa diaz imagine #rosa diaz x fem!reader #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine fic series #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 fic series #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic

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blarfkey · 3 years

Text

Writing Tag Game

I've been tagged by like ten people for this so thank you everyone who tagged me! @redinkofshame, @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, @kunstpause Consider yourself tagged if you see it and like it.

How many works do you have on Ao3?

38!

What's your total Ao3 wordcount?

702,253. I would love for it to be more but I am a slow writer lol

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Woodstock 83 --3480 Kudos

Xmen fic set after Apocalypse where Peter keeps getting these golden opportunities to tell Magneto/Erik that he's his son, and keeps chickening out at the last minute.

I know I wasn't the only one who walked out of that movie theater pissed that Peter came so close to admitting this secret since the previous movie and never did, so I wrote a fix it.

2. The Sun Will Shine When Morning Comes -- 2567 Kudos

The sequel to Woodstock 83, told in Magneto's POV where he's coming to terms with being a father while he cares for his sick son. This is probably my fav X-Men fic I've ever written because I loved having these two figure out what their father/son relationship would be like long after Peter has grown up and how Erik has wanted a child again but doesn't know how to process having one.

3. Jail Break -- 2488 kudos

The first Peter & Magneto fic I ever wrote and the first fic I ever published! This takes place post Days of Future Past and it shows how Magneto could have found out that Peter was his son and build that reluctant connection. Peter has a lot of freaking out about whether or not he wants to accept a supervillain as his father.

4. Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right -- 2396 Kudos

The third part of the series Jail Break Started. For some reason this is the most popular one shot in the series. In it, Peter has a huge fight with Magneto and then gets kidnapped by The Bad Guys and doesn't think his dad will come bail him out. But of course he does! And murders everyone in the compound to do it.

5. Two Lonely Souls in a Fish Bowl -- 2361 Kudos

The direct sequel to Jail Break where Magneto keeps showing up in the dead of night to visit Peter as they both figure out how they want this weird parent relationship to be.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always! Even if it takes me a while. I love the interaction and I want people to feel noticed and appreciated.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Um, i don't really like angst. I think it would be Spark Me Up for Xmen. Professor X/Magneto angst with my first ever written smut. It was a remix of another person's fic for an exchange and they had an angsty ending so I kept it.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

The last installment in the Jail Break/Come Together Series -- Shine On You Crazy Diamond. In it, Peter's little sister Wanda comes into her powers and they go through a lot of pain before she settles into them. It ends with Peter's mom coming to stay with them and her, Peter, Wanda, Erik, and Charles becoming one big family. I've had several people tell me it made them cry lol.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I'll write something like a set of characters from one fandom in the set up/premise of another fandom/piece of media. Like Dear Fen'harel is a crossover of Dragon Age with an old book called Dear Daddy Long Legs. But I don't combine different universes of different fandoms, it's too weird for me and I can't buy into it.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

took over and finished. We have an AU in our plans but so many other fics keep getting in the way! Sort of? I wrote the first part of a Solas/Maria/Varric series that@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I did receive a weird, angry message on one of my Xmen fics because they didn't like a fight that had happened between two characters but didn't read till the end to see it resolved so the bitched at me for the fact that the fight was mean? Which made no sense. But other than that, nope.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! Though it's not as much as my non-smut. I didn't write smut for so many years because I didn't think I knew how. I tried to write some out a few years ago and kept it to myself until one of my tumblr friends read it and said it was really good! So shout out to @salexectria, you're the reason why I write and publish smut!

I write all kinds of smut, from dub con to vanilla, from f/f, m/m, and ace spectrum characters. Its all about the characters and what would fit them/the situation more than it is about a specific type of sex.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I don't know about it.

What's your all time favourite ship?

Ummmmmm, that's hard. I don't think I have an all time favorite. I will say that Charles/Erik (Professor X/Magneto) was my first ever "otp" that I got completely obsessed with. Actually, I have never been that obsessed with another pairing. I write pairings that I enjoy or that I want to see a certain dynamic from, but that doesn't make them my favorite above all others.

I do really love Solas/Cadash and I prefer Solas rare pairs like Solas/Dorian, Solas/Cassandra, and Solas/Josephine over Solavellan.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I will never not finish a WIP. I hate it when it happens, even though I know IRL gets in the way, but it's so frustrating for me as a reader. So I will finish all my fics. However, I am very slow and very busy so it may take a while.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and character voice. I also am really good at developing friendships and platonic bonds or the slow burn get-to-know-you part of a romance. Apparently I write good smut, though its very hard for me lol.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions and transitions and pacing.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

The only thing that bothers me is if they never put in a translations somewhere and you have to just kind of guess. I don't care about reading something in another language and having a footnote or a note at the end of the chapter. I do it all the time in DF. I do think that putting "said in {insert language here}" is a bit of a cop out.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The first ever fandom I wrote for and never published was Harry Potter at 13. I wrote a story about a muggle neighbor who had to emergency babysit the baby Weasleys and was shocked by the magic. But I tried to submit it to a website that only published fic by application and it didn't get in and I was like "whatever, I'll just read fic" and then didn't touch fanfic again until I was . . .24 or 25 lol. I mostly focused on my original fiction.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I can't possibly have one favorite. I do really love my Peter fics, especially The Sun Will Shine When Morning Comes. I love my ACO fic with Apollo!Alkibiades. I love my Solas/Cassandra friendship fic Time Does Not Bring Relief. And I love Dear Fen'harel, of course, because it has so many things I wanted to change for Solavellan or didn't find, as well as a good analysis of myself and how I deal with anger and sorrow and homesickness, ect. through Ellana.

#asks #fanfic #writing #dear fenharel

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megsironthrone · 3 years

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Just Like Him

Based on this request: Would you write a Varys x reader but more in a platonic way? The reader is Tyrion’s little sister and is the only one who loves Tyrion and tries to defend her in front of Tywin. Varys and her have always been interested in one another. She felt betrayed when the two fled Kings Landing without telling her. At the council they meet again, her now being the Master strategist behind her sister. She asks Tyrion and Varys for forgiveness. They are surprised but the reader tells them that she now sees that she’s become just like Tywin a cold blooded murderer. I would love to read it, if you intend to write it. Have a great day!

Here you are, lovelies! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Warnings: A little angst. Some self-doubt. I think that's it really.

Pairings/Characters: Varys x fem!Lannister reader (platonic!), brother!Tyrion Lannister

Your two best friends were interesting people. Tyrion was your older brother that your father loathed simply because of what he was born as. You were the only one to defend him to your father. And Varys? Well Varys and Tyrion were a lot alike in some ways. Both were intelligent and resourceful. It seemed they could see what someone would do before anyone else. It was a game and they were the masters. While Tyrion and Varys weren't exactly close, they both valued their relationships with you.

So, when the two of them left Westeros without a word, you were devastated. You somewhat understood. Tyrion was going to be executed for your father's murder and Varys had busted him out of the cells. But still, neither of them had said anything to you. It hurt more than you cared to admit, especially Varys. Tyrion you could understand. Varys had at least had time to write a note or something. ANYTHING! Instead, they left you. Under the care and guidance of your sister.

That was how you found yourself sitting with Cersei as Daenerys and her council explained the dangerous situation to you all. You fought to keep your face neutral as Tyrion spoke. You were Cersei's strategist. You had to maintain a sense of calm, but you couldn't deny that you had missed him as well as Varys. Your eyes traveled to Varys, only to find him already looking at you. If you didn't know better, you'd swear there was guilt in his eyes. But you did know better. Varys only did what he felt was right for the realm. He wouldn't and shouldn't feel guilty for that.

You sat silently until Cersei left. You almost went with her, but she was going to have a conversation with Jaime about what she should do about the Army of the Dead. You chose to stay behind and hopefully, take a moment to speak with your friends. You could strategize with Cersei later if necessary.

"You look well, sister," Tyrion greeted you. You tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it. "A-Are you happy, Tyrion?" you asked, causing his brows to furrow. He nodded. "I am." Varys approached you both. You took a breath to steady yourself as you felt your anger and disappointment bubble up inside you. Even after a couple of years, you still held onto your bitterness of them leaving. The only thing keeping you from exploding were Cersei's words. "Be like Father."

The problem was that were like him. At least on the outside. Cold and calculating. Doing whatever you had to do to protect the family, even if that meant killing people who really didn't deserve it. You were ruthless. And you hated it. You had become the very thing your brother had killed. The thing Varys had always said was a problem for the realm.

"You've changed," was the first thing Varys said to you. Your eyes swung over to him as a frown made its way to your lips. "Have I?" He nodded in reply and your moved your gaze down to Tyrion who also nodded. "I suppose that's what happens when the two people keeping you sane just up and disappear one evening with not a single word." Both of them winced a little, prompting you to let out a sigh.

Varys opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. "I'm sorry." He gave you a look of confusion. "Whatever I did to cause you to leave me behind without a word. I'm sorry. But I'm more ashamed of what I've become. Of who I've become."

"What do you mean?" Varys asked. You let out a wry chuckled. "I've become just like him. Like Father. I'm a ruthless and cold-blooded murderer." Varys and Tyrion exchanged a glance. For a moment, the three of you said nothing. You let your eyes travel over the small group of people that remained. Nearly everyone there was a threat and you knew you should have be on your guard.

After what seemed like an eternity, Varys spoke up again. "You are not like him." You whipped your gaze around to meet his. "What do you mean?" He gave you a rare smile. "If you were like him, you would not care that you're a 'cold-blooded murderer' as you put it. Your father put his own son on trial for a murder he knew Tyrion didn't commit simply to see him executed. His own son. He felt no remorse nor shame. You regret what you've had to do to survive. That alone makes you a better person than ten Tywin Lannisters. You are not like him."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes and pride in your chest. "Thank you," you whispered. Tyrion suddenly declared that he needed to speak with Cersei. He disappeared, leaving you and Varys remaining off to the side. "Return to Winterfell with us," Varys said. No preamble. No question.

You wanted to shake your head, but instead found yourself asking, "What about your queen? I'm a Lannister and Cersei's strategist. Daenerys would sooner have my head on a platter than accept me joining her." Varys shook his head. "Those are the exact reasons she should accept you. You know Cersei's every move." You frowned.

"You expect me to betray my sister?" Varys gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Which is worse, my friend? Betraying your sister who has brought nothing but chaos and death to the realm? Or betraying yourself? You are not like the rest of your house, Y/N. You truly are the best of the Lannisters and I would hate to see you die in this war. At least at Daenerys' side, you have a better chance of survival. A better chance to change the realm from the image your father helped to create. Think about it." With that, Varys walked away from you again.

You remained where you were, your mind racing. Could you really betray Cersei? Could you go back to the young woman you were before Tyrion and Varys left? Could you be free of the evil influence of the currently residing in the Red Keep? You didn't know. But you did know that you missed the person you used to be. And you missed Tyrion and Varys. You also knew that you would never change anything where you were. With that in mind, you approached the Dragon Queen. "Queen Daenerys…?" When she turned to face you, you let out a shaky breath. "Here goes nothing," was the only thought racing through your mind.

(a/n: I hope this was what you were looking for!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @etherealpotter @line-viper @frozenhuntress67 @cd1242 @gruffle1 @smalltownbigheart @igotmadskills

#george r.r. martin #game of thrones #varys #varys x reader

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salexectrian-heir · 3 years

Text

ragged edges and sharp teeth

Pairing: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist

Fandom: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,305

Tags: Hurt/No Comfort, Canon Universe, Implied Sexual Content, Non-Consensual Platonic Affection, References to Underage Drinking, Referenced/Implied Suicide (Goro’s Mother), References to Depression, The six times someone kisses Goro Akechi, and the one time Goro Akechi kisses someone, Shuake Week 2020

Summary:

But in truth, in reality, Goro is selfish. Always will be. He is all ragged edges and sharp teeth, he is rough and all consuming and unrelenting.

And ruining Akira is perhaps his most selfish desire of all.

Shuake Week 2020: Free Day (a six and one prompt)

i. his mother

Goro is six years old and he is crying.

The water is scalding against his skin but that he doesn’t quite mind. He tries to fight the tears but they fall despite his brave efforts to not let them roll down his cheeks. Normally, he likes this place. The bathhouse is usually calm and comforting, and feels a little bit like an adventure when he’s sent here on his own. But tonight, he knows something is wrong .

One of her “ friends ” is over. One of the many he doesn’t like. His mother had that look on her face when she ushered him outside, the kind of look that made him want to stay rooted to the spot, clinging to her leg and begging to not be sent away.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been in this place, time almost doesn’t feel real in the bath. But it’s been long enough for his fingers and toes to prune, for his tears to have (finally) run out, and everyone else to have left. He runs his wrinkled fingertips over the tiles of the tub that are smooth and sleek, and wonders if anyone would come looking for him if he stayed in the water all night.

Probably not.

He sinks another few centimeters so that the water reaches his chin, and thinks about staying.

But he would miss his mother too much, and his eyes sting immensely, and all he wants is to fall asleep with her curled up next to him on his futon. He wouldn’t even mind if she hogged all the covers. It would be enough to know she was with him. That he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

He fumbles his way out of the tub and into his night clothes with clumsy, pruned fingers. The street is empty as he walks back to the complex where he and his mother live. The door is unlocked, but he vigilantly locks it behind him like she taught him. She must have forgotten. Again. But that’s okay! Because Goro can reach the top lock now and knows she must be tired, that’s all.

There are no lights on except for the glare from TV, a forgotten channel making ambient noise he barely notices. He creeps towards her bedroom and slides the door aside to find it empty, to his relief. No strangers left to linger in the space he covets. The next place he knows to check is the bathroom, which is where he finds her laying on the ground. Her head lifts at the noise and her eyes widen when she sees he’s standing in the doorway.

“Go-chan?”

He’s seen his mother like this before. He knows she’s hurting but doesn’t know why (a much older Goro would understand and curse himself for not noticing sooner. But he was six, and a six year old wouldn’t know what to do. He would blame himself anway.). He lays down beside her on the floor and she tucks him underneath her chin. He pretends he doesn’t hear her cry, pretends that he hadn’t just been crying himself, and buries his face in her neck. Her hair is damp but smells like home, floral and fresh in the way that makes his heart ache. He is grateful it's not the lingering scent of cigarettes and sweat that sometimes would stain her skin in ways that would make his stomach churn.

He thinks she’ll be okay this time when he feels a tender kiss on the top of his head, on his temple, on his cheek when she finally pries him away from her throat.

He thinks she’ll be okay when she whispers I love you , against his forehead as she carries him into his room, and helps him get ready for bed.

He thinks she’ll be okay when she leaves a chaste kiss on his lips when they are finally curled up on his futon together, as she brushes away the tears that somehow, some way, had found themselves running down his puffy face again.

But he doesn’t hear her when she says I’m sorry with soft lips pressed to his damp eyelids. After his fingers have woven into the locks of her hair like a lifeline.

Because Goro is already half asleep, and doesn’t have the energy to kiss her goodnight.

ii. a relative

Goro is nine years old and he is numb.

It’s freezing outside and no one thought to give him a heavier jacket. So he stands there shivering, hands fisted under his armpits as he tries to breathe normally. The air burns his lungs each time he takes a hiccuping breath, and wishes more than anything that someone would wake him up. Because this has to be a dream. A cruel one.

Then someone grabs his face and kisses his cheek, starling him out of the haze that had settled upon him like a wet blanket. They had meant it to be a comforting gesture he would come to realize much later in his life, but his traumatized nine year old brain couldn’t handle it and he violently recoils.

The shove isn’t strong enough to deter this woman… an aunt? A great aunt? A friend of his mother? Goro doesn’t know. He’s never met her before. Or maybe he has? If so, she clearly wasn’t important enough to remember or leave an impact on his life before this moment.

All he knows is they violated his space and as he remembers what his mother--he chokes on the protest that formed on his lips as he repeatedly pushes himself farther from the person trying to hold onto him--he remembers what his mother had always told him.

“ Don’t let anybody touch you unless you want them to .”

He holds those words close to his heart, hoping the punches he’s throwing get his message across.

He didn’t want to be touched by anyone.

Anger bubbles up from somewhere in his gut. Why didn’t his mother do the same when all those “friends” touched her when she didn’t want them too? Why couldn’t she be strong enough? Why wasn’t he strong enough to protect her ?

Why wasn’t he enough?

Bile rises in his throat when he finally breaks the hold of the hands that were gripping his chin, his elbow... blatantly ignoring the affronted scoffs and whispers of what a disgrace, such a rude child, that circled in the wake of his outburst.

The only person he wants holding him is his mother.

But she is six feet under the dirt at his feet, and won’t ever be able to hold him again.

iii. a girl in the orphanage

Goro is eleven and is taken completely by surprise.

One moment he is huddled around a board game in his room with a classmate, and the next she is suddenly leaning into his personal space, pushing her face into his. His eyes go wide as he braces himself on the edge of the desk so as not to fall out of his seat.

He never really thought about kissing girls before it happened, and knew immediately after that he probably would never think about kissing girls again.

His body reacts faster than his brain and shoves her off. She gasps and stumbles back, her expression twisting in confusion at his rejection.

“Why,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “did you do that?”

“Because I like you, and I wanted to kiss you…did you not like it?

He had never been kissed like that before. He thought first kisses were supposed to feel special. But this...felt empty. And bluntly says as much to her.

She looks at him like he had slapped her across the face. “I-I thought...you liked me back?”

“What gave you that idea?”

Guilt only starts to settle in his gut when he sees the tears welling up in her eyes just before she mutters something akin to an apology and bolts out of his room.

He glares at the spot she had been standing.The longer he thinks about it, the angrier and more justified Goro feels. He doesn’t regret telling her the truth but… he drops his head on his arms.

He can’t even make friends right. Maybe he really was broken, like all the other kids say he is.

She gets adopted two days later.

He doubts she even remembers that kiss.

iv. a hook up

Goro is seventeen and it's a means to an end.

Goro hates these events, but has to attend to keep up airs with Shido and his... associates . To be available for Shido to both dangle in front of and threaten his inner circle with. The fact Goro fits in with them at all makes his skin crawl, and he drowns the urge to peel it off with the complimentary wine he’s (illegally) being served. It’s the least offensive crime he’s committed by a landslide.

Goro just needs to be seen and not heard. To both impress and intimidate. And it works every time.

But tonight, it works perhaps a little too well. Or Goro is a little too drunk to care anymore, and wants to get something, anything out of this hell he’s stuck in. Which is how he finds himself pressed up against a bathroom door by the son of some sycophant politician dragged along by his father hoping to get in Shido’s good graces.

The boy is his age, maybe a little older. Far too eager, excited, and sloppy. He kisses Goro hastily, before Goro could stop him (it’s not what they're in this bathroom for, and they both know it). The boy’s mouth is clumsy, and the kiss is full of inexperienced tongue and tastes of the sickly sweet moscato they’ve been chasing. When the boy tries to deepen the kiss, Goro takes a fistfull of this boy’s hair and yanks. It earns him a yelp.

Glaring down at him, Goro simply states, “On your knees.”

And the boy obeys without a second thought.

The boy doesn’t like him . He likes the image he carefully manufactured to be desirable. Even if the boy claims he went down on the Detetive Prince in a bathroom in some fancier hotel in Shinjuku, no one will believe him.

Back at his apartment, Goro slams down the mug of tea he had made to wash out the taste of the boy from the party. If that boy really knew what Goro kept buried underneath the layers and layers of masks he wore, what he was truly capable of, he would run away screaming.

But it doesn’t matter, it’s not like the boy’s affection was really for Goro . And Goro held none for the boy. It means nothing. A release, an excuse to feel something other than seething rage for a few minutes. A pitiable excuse for human connection Goro so desperately craved. How pathetic.

Goro begins to laugh.

And when his manic laughter breaks into sobs he can’t quite tell.

v. his rival

Goro is eighteen and it stops his entire world.

Stepping out of the Jazz Jin, Goro is quickly enveloped by the brisk November chill that finally settled itself in the streets of Kichijoji. It seeps through his clothes and makes him shiver, craving the warmth and atmosphere of the lounge they just left.

He shouldn’t even be here with Akira. Against his better judgment, Goro had reached out, invited him here one last time before…

Akira ducks around him as the door shuts, effectively cutting off the only exit out into the street.

“Akechi, can I ask you a question?”

Goro raises a brow. “I suppose.”

Akira removes his hands from his pockets, and suddenly seems unsure of what to do with them. Turning them over and flexing his fingers as he says, “Um, I’ll need you to close your eyes first.”

“Akira, we don’t have time for games,” Goro chides in that manufactured plastic tone of voice the Prince uses to let his fans down easy.

(Thinking Akira will probably try to shove some stupid trinket in his hands like last time. And Goro will have to repeatedly decline said trinket until Akira inevitably shoves it in his pocket while he’s not looking and only for Goro to find it later when he takes off his coat back at his apartment).

A soft laugh pulls him back to the present. And then, “Indulge me, detective . Please?”

Maybe it was the poorly disguised desperation hidden in Akira’s voice that made him cave to the delinquent’s whim, or Goro’s realization that this was perhaps the last time he would ever get to feel like a normal teenager before...

Goro rolls his eyes and gives in to Akira’s request with a sigh. “Alright.”

The sounds of Kichijoji’s nightlife are amplified when his eyes flutter shut. He becomes hyper aware of the cold clinging to his skin, the idle chatter of the passerby at the top of the stairs, milling about down the street.The welcoming scent of coffee that never seems to fade from Akira’s clothes.The sound of Akira stepping closer into his space.

Suddenly, alarms are going off in Goro’s brain as he register’s Akira’s hand cupping his cheek, skin to skin.

“May I?” Akira’s question is whispered so quietly, Goro thinks he feels it more than he hears it.

Goro swallows, unable to get his tongue to work to form words. It’s the first time anyone has ever asked Goro for his permission, for his consent, and he has no idea how to even voice how that makes him feel.

It’s blindsiding him.

A thumb traces over Goro’s bottom lip, and his eyes snap open. He’s peering right into irises of silver, sparkling from the string lights that hang around them in the stairwell of the Jazz Jin’s entryway.

“You said you would keep them closed,” Akira whispers, gaze dropping to where his thumb is still idling tracing Goro’s mouth.

Goro’s prolonged silence seems to unnerve Akira, for he begins to pull away. Without thinking, Goro’s hand shoots out and grabs the lapel’s of Akira’s coat, holding him in place. Goro wasn’t even aware he moved until Akira let out a small gasp.

“I never said that,” Goro murmurs, but his eyes fall shut anyway when Akira leans in again.

Akira’s lips are so soft, so delicate and gentle when he presses them against Goro’s mouth. They are everything Goro is not, and Goro is melting . It’s so much kinder than he deserves, far more genuine than Goro is even capable of being.

“To remember me by,” Akira breathes when Goro parts his lips to taste more of him, “since we agreed to stop seeing each other after this.”

Too soon the warmth from Akira’s mouth is gone, and so is the dark haired boy. Having assimilated into the shadows to leave Goro alone in that stairwell.

It changes everything and nothing at the same time.

Goro still puts a bullet in Akira’s brain two days later, but it's his own head that explodes.

vi. a kiss met halfway

Goro is still eighteen, and living on borrowed time.

“ Your life isn’t trivial! ”

Goro has never wanted to believe anything so badly before. But knows in the shell of his empty heart, that Akira is wrong.

That he’s just being a brainless, sentimental fool, giving Goro’s life more meaning than it ever had the right to have.

Yet the thief’s words echo in the recesses of his mind, with each step he takes away from Leblanc for them only resonate louder. By the time he reaches the main road, the words are deafening screams and he has to--has to--

Akira is just where he left him. Sitting there stupidly at the cafe counter with his face in his hands.

The door to Leblanc is ripped open. It shakes on its hinges as it absorbs the aftershocks of being slammed into the wall by the force of Goro’s hand. The jingle of the bell is drowned out by the roar of Akira’s voice in Goro’s ears.

Akira startles and whips his head in the direction of the noise. Goro can see the thief’s eyes are swollen and red, brimming with unshed tears as he pulls his hands away from his face. His mouth falls open, brows furrowed in shock or confusion, Goro isn’t keen on differentiating at the moment because he’s too busy closing the distance between them.

Goro is so sick of other people defining what his life is meant to be. So sick and tired of being manipulated, following orders like some kind of marionette on a string. And for nothing in the end. Because Goro is his own worst enemy the cards were stacked against him from the beginning.

So fuck it. Goro decides for the first time in a long time that he wants to be touched. To be held. To feel the weight of someone’s desire for him pressing in from all angles. He wants to drown himself in Akira until he can breathe nothing else.

And Akira meets him halfway.

They don’t speak of what they’re doing, as they tumble up the stairs to Akira’s room.

They do not name the desperate feeling they are chasing through each other’s clothes as they fall to the floor.

They refuse to acknowledge the truth that is passed between each other’s mouths, secrets they had kept buried beneath flesh now exposed.

But everything left unsaid hangs in the silent spaces between their bodies as they move as one.

+1 a kiss goodbye

Goro is (still) eighteen, and he is dying.

It takes less than a minute.

Goro does his best to keep the desperation out of his eyes but can’t keep it from his hands.

Hands that reach for Akira to roughly pull him into the helicopter after Maruki, who had been tossed aside like a ragdoll.

Goro drags the beaten and bloodied thief into his lap, and no one seems to pay them any attention, too focused on either watching the unconscious therapist in the back, the collapsing palace around them, or the brilliant white light they were heading for.

Akira goes to unhinge his helmet, and Goro lets him. It clatters to the ground, next to where Akira abandoned his own mask.

He lets Akira drag fingers drag across his chest, to travel up and bury themselves in his hair, to cradle the back of his head like the most precious treasure he’s ever laid hands on. So much of Goro yearned to be touched, and there was so little time.

Goro slides his own hands, still encased in clawed gauntlets, along Akira’s battered face. He uses the pads of his thumbs to trace the angle of Akira’s jaw as he crushes his mouth against Akira’s for the last time. Akira’s blood is sweet on his tongue.

For a split second, Goro wishes he could have been a stronger, more selfless man in his final moments. One who didn’t covet things that were never his ( would never be his ), or ruin the things he touches.

But in truth, in reality, Goro is selfish, always will be. He is all ragged edges, and sharp teeth, he is rough and all consuming and unrelenting. And ruining Akira is perhaps his most selfish desire of all.

Goro knows Akira deserves better, but Akira allows it willingly all the same. Letting Goro lay claim to everything Akira is, everything Akira could be for a moment. For a moment, it all belongs to Goro.

And in return, Akira takes everything from him. His revenge, his anger, his envy, his loneliness, his heart. Devouring what is left of Goro Akechi as the false reality shatters around them in a blaze of white light.

#Shuake #Akeshu #Shuake Week 2020 #Goro Akechi #Persona 5 #Goro Akechi x Akira Kurusu #forgot to post this here

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elles-writing · 4 years

Text

Ghosts of past - platonic!Tauriel x reader x Kili - Day 7/13

Ghosts of the past

Pairing: platonic!Tauriel x reader x Kili

Warnings/triggers: mentions of death, broken heart, feels

Genre: angst

Word: Ghost – Day 7

Word count: 2685

A/N: I came up with this idea after I’ve red this oneshot – Scouting Party (by @dumbassunderthemountain) , where was Tauriel x reader, though that was fluff and this is angst.

I wasn’t really sure if I should write it down, because she’s not one of my most favourite characters in The Hobbit, I’ve never wrote anything similar before (and I’m straight, so I was not sure if I would capture it right), though at some point it felt like I should write it down. I took my own experiences of those feelings when I was broken-hearted over one guy, so I hope I didn’t messed up.

My friend, that I consider as my good friend, is lesbian, so if she would be interested in TH, this fandom and would be reading a fanfics in English (and had a Tumblr), I’d dedicated it to her, though this is pure angst and fun fluff would fit much more to her.

Also, I almost cried during writing, sometimes I had to stop to not to cry, so...yeah.

Tags: @dumbassunderthemountain @moony-artnstuff @artsywaterlily @claraofthepen @red-riding

Message me if you want to be added/removed to taglist!

She didn’t knew how long she’s been sitting here. It was dark and cold there, yet she couldn’t get up. She was crying, tears streaming down her face. It was the night of Feast of Starlight, yet she could not celebrate.

She looked over those two graves and a sting pierced through her heart.

It was you and your husband, Kili. Both of you lived untill your very last days.

Tauriel sat quietly here, wishing she could stop that pain in her chest. Her hand runned over the runes on your grave. She knew you almost your whole life, and never thought it would end up this way. That she wouldn’t sit next to your grave, crying and praying for the pain in her chest, in her heart, to stop.

She quietly sobbed and remembered the day when her and Legolas found you in the forest. Her mind flashed back to that day, decades ago.

They were on a scouting mission to kill some spiders. It would have been like any other day on a mission, really. But then she noticed a small child, just a bit older than a toddler, sitting on the ground, crying.

She was protecting you from all the spiders that came too close to you. When they were all dead, she turned towards you. You were looking at her, scared, your eyes and cheeks red.

„Don’t kill me, please,“ you almost begged. She carefully spoke.

„I won’t hurt you, little one. What’s your name?“ She asked you. You shot her a glare, full of untrust, and didn’t spoken a word.

„Tauriel, what-“ Legolas noticed you sitting on the ground. You looked at him and quickly got up.

„N-no,“ You whispered and tried to run away, when he gently catched your hand. You turned to him.

„We can’t leave her here,“ Tauriel stated. Legolas nodded.

„We won’t hurt you, little one.“ She said kindly and you frowned at her. She noticed your ears. They were human, but now, when she looked closely, she could see they weren’t as large as human ears would be.

They somehow got you to the palace. You probably realized you couldn’t run away from them. When she tried to ask you about it later, you didn’t remembered that moment. You were too young then.

„Ada,“ Legolas told the king. Thranduil turned to him.

„We found this child in the forest.“ He said and Tauriel nudged you a bit to take a few steps forward. You were hidden behind her, finding her probably the best option to hid to, from what you had.

Thranduil looked down at you, his eyes slightly widening. You’ve had the same eye colour, the same hair colour and length, facial features like Legolas‘ mother had. He looked over to your ears, noticing their shape.

That night, you’ve stayed. The next day, you explained to them that you and your parents were trespassing Mirkwood to Dale. Your father had some elvish blood, his great-grandfather married a half-elven woman from Rivendell, and your mother was a human. Lately, your family had a problems, though you didn’t knew what type of problems that was, perhaps it was because you weren’t full human and many people were talking about it in the village that you lived in previously.

You’ve lost your path, and your parents, though they were skilled warriors, were outnumbered against the spiders, and they sended you to run away in a hope you’d find a way out. They told you to not trust anything in that forest, so that was why you were acting the way you did towards Legolas and Tauriel when they found you.

Thranduil adopted you, but Tauriel was secretly very happy she could spend time with you. Once you got to used to it all and when the pain of death of your parents got a bit dull after few years, you were all laugh and giggles. If she could, she spended hours with you, reading you, teaching you to shoot arrows since you were able to, and trained with you, once you were old enough.

It wasn’t until you were a young adult, when she realized her feelings weren’t in a sibling or friendly way. No, she developed a crush on you.

It was once when you admited her you’ve got a crush. It was a crush on Legolas, the Mirkwood prince. You told her everything, thinking of her as your best friend you could tell anything.

When she found out Legolas had a crush on her, when he admited it to her, she was confused. Later she found you broken, lying down on the floor of your room, crying and sobbing. You looked up at her, your eyes red, cheeks wet from tears, you hair tangled and messy. She realized you overheard their converstaion.

„Why?“ You asked her and broke down again.

„Why doesn’t he loves me? What’s wrong with me?“ You sobbed again, trying to find an answer in her face, full of confusion, concern and surprise. She sat down to you and patted your back, carefully. Your personality was different from an elf. At that point, you were fully human.

„It’s because I’m not a full elf?“ You whispered and started crying again. She hesitated for a moment, but she decided to hug you, so now you were sobbing into her guard uniform. She patted your hair.

„It’s not your fault. If something, he’s not good enough for you,“ she said in firm voice, meaning every word. Your sobbs stopped for a while.

„B-but I love him, Tauriel. I love him...why does love have to hurt so much?“ A cry escaped your mouth, and she felt a sting going through her heart. She was combing her fingers through your hair, fixing the knots in them.

„I...I don’t know,“ she admited.

Then, a few years later, you didn’t had a crush on Legolas anymore. You realized you could never be together – he seemed to be becoming more and more like his father. And at that time, the dwarves appeared. Her heart filled with jealousy, when she noticed the looks you and the dark-haired dwarf were changing. She placed her palm on your shoulder, then.

„Don’t go to the dungeons. Stay away from there, so you are safe,“ she hissed into your ear, being a completely different person than she usually was. You thought she maybe thought they were too dangerous. Despise you being an adult, you looked at the world in more naive way, than most elves.

Later that night, she was hiding near, while feeling her heart to be torn into pieces. You and that dwarf, Kili, were talking, and she realized you and him were meant to be. Two souls, that met and couldn’t stay away from one another anymore.

She knew you helped them to escape. She knew you got shot by that poisoned arrow. She just knew that, and also that nothing could stop you from saving him. You were too stubborn for that. She knew you’d do it again, again and again.

So she runned after you, to heal you. But before that, him, Kili, told her you told him you’ve loved him. She’ve seen no lie in his eyes, only fear and worry for you.

When she healed you, she cupped your cheek in her palm. Your face fitted there so perfectly, and yet you were destinated to Kili. In that moment, you whispered.

„You will always run after me and take care of me, whether I am a toddler, or an adult, won’t you, sister?“ Then, you fell asleep. She froze and stood there, stunned.

Sister.

That was everything she ever was to you, and will be. She will always be sister and best friend for you.

When the Erebor was reclaimed, you talked with Thorin, and he let Tauriel to be your personal guard, because she was your sister, and a great warrior you wouldn’t mind to be following you the whole day.

Yours and Kili’s wedding was beautiful, she had to admit that. The dwarves weren’t very fond of her, as expected, but when she knew you were happy, it was all worth it.

A few months after the wedding, you weren’t feeling your best, and you even fainted in one hall. She quickly catched you and took you to the healer. It was the day when you found out you were pregnant, two weeks so far, and she congratulated to you.

A months later, when your belly began to grow, it was harder for you to go up or down the stairs. She was always there to help you out. Like a sister. Like a friend. A best friend.

You and Kili had four children – the older one was a girl, then two boys – twins, and another daughter.

Your oldest daughter was nice to Tauriel, but she often spended her time rather on training yard, wanting to be as good as her grand-uncle Thorin.

Your two boys liked her a bit more, though they were rather spending time by pulling pranks and jokes. Let’s just say, their grandmother wasn’t too surprised.

You youngest daugher was usually siting somewhere with a book. She reminded Tauriel of you, when you were a child. She would also listen to ‚Auntie Tauriel‘ almost all the time, about life in Mirkwood and all of that. She loved stories of any kind.

When one of your sons was about to marry, Tauriel noticed the wrinkles in your face. They weren’t really too deep, but they were there. She realized what happened.

You were aging. You and your husband, your children, everyone. You weren’t immortal like she was, she realized. One day, you will have to go, and she won’t have any other choice than to accept that.

Later in the evening, when everyone went to sleep, she started quietly crying in her chambers. She didn’t even looked like she aged, and yet the passing time was clear on everybody else in Erebor and Dale. She felt guilty for it, though she knew it was not hers or anybody’s else’s choice.

She looked over Kili’s grave, being illuminated by moonlight. She talked to him a few days before the wedding, basically growling at him, that if he fucks up and she finds out you’re unhappy with him, she will personally make sure he will regret. He was a bit like puppy, and assured her, that he won’t harm you in any way.

Tauriel softly smiled through the tears. He held his word, your marriage and love was incredibly passionate, happy, never fading, you were clearly made for each other. On your wedding day, when he was helping you to prepare, she couldn’t help, but trew you a glance every now and then. You looked amazing, everyone had to admit that.

A princess for a prince.

She looked back to your grave. She whispered.

„You were happy, weren’t you? So, so happy. I was happy for you, though.“

She remembered that moment she couldn’t help and told you everything. She couldn’t bear it anymore.

It was a late evening, Kili was at one another meeting that him and Fili had to attend. You sighed and shook your head, being tired. It was the day you found out you were pregnant with your first child.

„It’s a bit strange, when we’re not around much. We’re wedded, and we don’t see each other as much as when we were courting.“ Tauriel took a deep breath. You noticed how tense she suddenly became.

„What’s happening, Tauriel? You know you can tell me, we’re sisters and you’re my best friend.“ You said. She sighed.

„That’s all we will ever be, right?“ She suddenly asked. You turned to her, confusion writen all over your face.

„Tauriel-“

„It’s because I love you,“ she whispered, holding back tears. You furrowed your brows in curiousity and confusion. Oh, how she loved that expression of yours.

„I love you too, we’re sisters and-“ You started, confused, but she shook her head.

„No, that’s not it, I...I think I love you in a way you love someone...outside of the family,“ she barely whispered. You stood up, stunned, your hand on your mouth.

„Oh, Tauriel, I-I didn’t knew that you...felt this way about me,“ You whispered. She shook her head.

„I’m happy for you and Kili, though. You are going to have a baby, how couldn’t I be happy for you? You are going to be perfect parents.“ She said. You looked at her with worry. You could see the world in more naive way, but she couldn’t fool you.

„Why didn’t you told me earlier?“ You asked her with sad eyes, feeling bad because you didn’t noticed.

„How long do you-“

„I realized when you broke down, when you found out Legolas has a crush on me,“ She said and you both chuckled a bit.

„Well, I don’t have a crush on him for a while.“ Then your face turned serious, again.

„Tauriel, I-“

„Would you listen to me for a second? Would you-would you hate me, if you would knew?“ She more than stated just asked, anxious about your reaction.

„I’m not going to tell you I’m shocked, I’ve always took you as my family, as you know,“ You started carefully.

„I don’t remember my parents too much, and you’ve always been like a big sister and best friend to me. It’s-I don’t hate you. I’m, well, surprised, a bit shocked, perhaps. I-I need to just think about it.“ You said. She nodded.

„Of course,“ She mumbled and left you alone.

What she didn’t knew, was that Kili found you, looking downhearted and confused, and refused to give up on making you to smile, until you’d told him what was going on. You were lying in your bed on your side, your leg over his waist and you were in his arms, telling him that you know you shoud not be guilty, but you could not help, because you didn’t noticed earlier and found out today, after years. He was patting your hair, gently, telling you that Tauriel told you herself when she was ready, and that she surely wanted you to be happy, and not feeling guilty of something you didn’t even knew about.

You accepted that, though. You felt like there were no secrets between you anymore, and you and Kili kept it to yourselves, just to make sure she will stay. And she did.

She was still like a sister to you, and after a few years, she admitted you she was taking you as a best friend and sister, too, but still way too dear to lose.

Or did she pushed all those feelings deep down and let herself to be much more happy, that you and Kili had children, and ignore what she felt?

She didn’t knew. She wasn’t sure.

She looked at your grave, again.

„I hope you’re happy where you are,“ She whispered to your grave, her voice being the only sound in that empty space. She knew that this was a part of her life that will stay with her until she dies.

With all of those ghosts of the past, she will live. She will have to live.

And even if it was well-lived and happy chapter...

It will still hurt.

Even more than when she lost her parents, and when her heart broke, and yet, she was happy for you.

She looked up, her sight was blurry through the tears, moonlinght illuminating her face and yours and Kili’s grave.

„I hope you both are in the best place.“ She whispered and started sobbing once again, when a cold hand patted her shoulder.

„I will see you once, again, sister,“ A voice whispered, which she couldn’t hear. A voice of woman, who found her piece, but came to visit her sister, on the day when she passed away. If she would look up, she’d noticed soft light and her, Y/N, looking the same, just like the day she took an arrow for her soulmate, when her sister saved her life for the second time.

#13daysofspookywritingevent #tauriel x reader x kili #kili x reader #tauriel x reader #kili #angst

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