#Edward is also being stupid in thinking that the voice in his head that teached him stuff is just himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

run-me-through-but-not-like-that · 2 years

Note

ooohhh, maybe a fic where reader is a pirate too, the captain of their own ship? maybe they had an agreement not to fight with blackbeard and even be allies, but they just heard about the toe thing and now izzy has to hold them back so they don't violently dismember ed, lol

I'll Kill Him:

As soon as the ship came into sight, Izzy recognise it. Its flag was raised high and proud, making sure it couldn't be missed.

"Should we get the captains?" Oluwande asked, frowning slightly. The ship was definitely approaching them but who would risk raiding a ship that flew Blackbeard's flag.

"They won't attack us, prepare to let them board," Izzy sighed, already feeling the migraine coming on.

"...seriously?" Normally Izzy wouldn't be so lenient with one of Bonnet's crew questioning him but the concern was fair if they didn't know better.

"They're old allies. Just do it," was all the information Izzy gave.

"And the Captains?"

"...wait for now..."

Izzy watched from the quarterdeck as the ships lined up, a friendly approach considering a canon hadn't been fired. He watched as you boarded the ship, shaking his head. A captain shouldn't board another ship alone but your arrangement with Blackbeard was an unique one.

The majority of your crew, including your stony first mate, stood at the railing of your ship, watching. Waiting to see if their assistance would be required. They understood the peace between you and the other captain but you had sought out the Revenge in a rage, making them wonder if it still stood.

You assessed the crew with a stern expression, figuring out what to make of them. Izzy waited to see what conclusion you came to.

"You," you pointed to Lucius, who scrambled over and stood to attention. He could be a right twat but he wasn't stupid. "Where is your captain?"

"Uh...which one?" the scribe asked nervously, hoping you wouldn't think he was being difficult on purpose.

You frowned a little before putting the pieces together. So, that part of the rumours was true...

"...he took him back?!" you snapped in disbelief.

"Uh...I guess you want Captain Teach?" Lucius decided not to get into Stede's return.

That was when a familiar voice called your name, saving the scribe from your wrath. Though, all of the anger fell away from your face when you turned to see Izzy approaching you, a grin on your face instead.

"There you are!" you approached like an old friend, arms held out at your sides, "thought you weren't going to welcome me aboard for a minute."

Izzy grumbled as you pulled him into a hug. He didn't resist but he didn't wrap his arms around you either. Had to uphold his reputation at least a little after all.

You were still smiling when you stepped back. At least, you were until your gaze dropped to the cane he clutched. Instantly grimacing at the fire raging behind your eyes once again.

Of course, you were disgusted by his weakness. The cane being a dead give away of what, he was sure, you had already heard rumours about. He refused to hang his head in shame.

"Fucking Blackbeard," you muttered through your teeth before turning away from him. "Edward fucking Teach!" you called, the same shout you would use when taunting an enemy to fight you, "get your arse out here!"

The crew quickly when from cautiously curious to completely stunned. They had taken part in their fair share of raids now and couldn't believe you would address the fearsome Blackbeard in such a way, even if they had come to know him as Edward now. They had also had a taste of him at his worst.

Thankfully, you didn't have to storm into the captain's cabin because the two captains soon came running out to see what was going on.

"Uh, who are you?" Bonnet asked with a small frown, unsure whether this would be another Calico Jack incident. Should he be welcoming a friend of Edward's or shooing them away before they can do any damage.

"Seriously, Edward? Everything that happened and you're co-captaining again?" you asked, sounding almost disappointed in him but your anger was more prominent.

"Not that it's any of your business but we have talked all of that out," Bonnet huffed defensively.

"Does he speak for you now?" you raised an eyebrow. You weren't here to speak with the Gentleman Pirate after all.

"Of course not," Edward sighed, rolling his eyes at you. "What are you doing here?" he would have greeted you with more excitement, if you hadn't come here with obviously hostile intentions.

"I had hoped the stories Jackie told me were just rumours, imagine my surprise when I decide to visit and find your first mate needing a cane just to walk across the deck," you glared the pirate captain down.

"Y/n," Izzy sighed, shaking his head, "that's why you're here?"

"That's why-of course that's why I'm here!" you spun back round to face the first mate. Did he really think you wouldn't have something to say about all the nonsense that happened over the last few months? "Seriously, Izzy, I told you that you should have accepted my offer years ago," you sighed, thinking about how this whole thing could have been avoided.

"So, that's why your here," Edward scoffed, "trying to poach my first mate. I thought we settled this."

You faced Edward again with another harsh glare. "We settled it until you fucking mutilated him!"

"It's more complicated than that," Izzy insisted, coming up by your side.

"What? Eddie had his feelings hurt so had to dismember you?" you knew you were taunting him, pushing all the right buttons, but you didn't care.

"Fuck you," Edward spat, Stede sharing his sentiment.

"Well, that sounds enough like a challenge for me," you smirked, unsheathing your sword with a little flare.

With a smirk of his own, Edward accepted by drawing his own sword. "Edward...is this necessary?" Bonnet asked, eyeing the other ship nervously. The crew wasn't exactly prepared for a raid and you seemed like you meant business.

"Stand down. Both of you," Izzy demanded, even if he had no authority over either of you.

"I'm the Captain, Iz," Edward reminded him without taking his eyes off of you.

"And a Captain only lives if his crew allows it, you should know that," you reminded him, threat clear in your words. "How many mutiny attempts has our dear Mister Hands put down?" you asked, earning a glare from Edward as he stepped forward.

The crew watched on intently, honestly a little excited to see the two captains duel.

Your smirk grew as you approached him, sword firmly in your hand.

"Enough," Izzy grabbed your arm, jerking you to a halt, before demanding, "Bonnet, make yourself useful."

Stede got the hint and hurried over to Edward, holding him back and trying to dissuade him. He wasn't the biggest fan of Izzy but if he thought this duel would be a bad idea, he was probably right about something.

"You should let me fucking kill him," you seethed, addressing Izzy but glaring at Edward. "But I'm feeling forgiving, so I'm thinking I might only take a foot," your smile was twisted, sadistic if Izzy hadn't known any better. But he did know better.

You always had been protective over those you called friends, even back on Hornigold's ship.

"I don't need you fighting for my honour or some shit," Izzy scoffed.

"Are we fighting or not?" Edward asked, his glare nearly as cruel as yours.

"Oh we're fucking fight, you bastard," you lunged towards Blackbeard, only to have Izzy catch you and hold you back.

"This is ridiculous!"

But what broke out next was an even more ridiculous scene.

Edward stood seething beside Stede as you spat vitriol at him, making all sorts of threats, each one Izzy was certain you would follow through on if he released you. Each one worse then the last.

You fought against Izzy's hold, occasionally slipping loose but only to be pulled back by the first mate.

"Izzy, get their ass off my ship," Edward ordered. "Or our agreement is off the table," he settled a heavy glare on you. Threatening you like you weren't the one to track him down with the intention of dismembering him.

"Fuck your agreement, Edward. If you want fight, fucking do it," you tried to tug out of Izzy's hold, but to no avail.

"Off my ship. Now," Edward snarled before letting Stede pull him back into the captain's cabin.

In an instant you spun around to face Izzy, the speed and force of your movement causing him to stumble back. Thankfully, you caught him by the arm before he could lose his balance. He used to have impressive balance, helped make him such an impressive fighter, but you were certain his missing toe had impacted that.

"You should let me gut the fucker," you insisted.

"Obviously, I can't let you do that," Izzy rolled his eyes.

"He cut off your damn toe, Izzy," you said, as if he needed reminding.

Izzy huffed, shifting as he became aware of the number of eyes on him. "Can we talk about this somewhere else?" he asked.

"Fine," you sighed, knowing this was a private conversation.

You didn't speak as you followed Izzy down to his cabin, ignoring the rest of the crew.

"He took your toe, Iz," again, he really didn't need to be reminded, but you said it anyway once the door was closed. There was another part of the rumour, more speculation than usual, some people believed it some people didn't. However, knowing how impulsive Edward could sometimes be, you couldn't rule it out. "Did...is it true, that he made you eat it?" you asked.

Izzy glanced at you before sitting down on the edge of his cot with a heavy sigh, "yeah."

A beat of silence.

"Can I see it?"

"It's not-"

"Please, Iz."

Izzy looked up at you for a moment before nodding. He knew that you just needed to see the proof, wanted to see how bad the damage was, you weren't enjoying this anymore than he was.

You just watched as Izzy removed his boot and unwrapped his bandages. Neither of you spoke as you knelt down in front of him, lifting his injured foot into your lap. Cradling it.

Izzy bit back his complaints that as captain shouldn't be kneeling for somebody else but you weren't a pirate captain right now, were you? No, you were his friend. Somebody who cared about him. You always had, hadn't you?

Instead, he just watched as you examined the injury. You were well experienced in controlling your facial expressions, but he still caught the sadness in your eyes.

"It looks like it healed alright. Did it get infected?" you asked quietly.

"Yeah...Roach managed to salvage it before I had to lose another toe," Izzy answered honestly.

"And you're still here..." you thought out loud before looking up at him. "You know I admire your loyalty, I always have, but...I can't help but think it may be misplaced."

"I threatened my Captain, he punished me. Any other captain would have killed me," Izzy insisted, it sounding a little like a script, like this has been what he's been telling himself since it happened.

"But Edward isn't just your Captain, he's suppose to be your friend. You've known each other for decades," you reminded him, "even Jack was speechless when he heard, and he normally finds this type of shit hilarious."

"You saw Calico?" Izzy asked but wasn't too surprised. Of course the bastard wasn't dead, maybe nothing could kill that cockroach.

"Oh yeah, drinking his sorrows down in Jackie's. Until she kicked him out, of course," you nodded.

"Useless bastard," Izzy grumbled, earning a small smile from you before you glanced back down at his foot.

"...does it still hurt?" you asked.

Izzy sighed. He had hoped you had forgotten about his foot, even if it was still in your lap. "Yeah, sometimes," he admitted, "most of the time. On bad days it goes right up to my hip."

"When it hurts, you take care of it by yourself?"

"Obviously," he huffed, no real bite to it.

"Ed doesn't help?" You felt like you already knew the answer.

"Don't think he knows how bad it can get. Thinks I'm just down a toe," he explained.

You carefully placed his foot down and stood before joining him on the cot, sitting close enough that your thigh touched his.

"I'll kill him," you whispered, more so to yourself than to Izzy.

"You and Ed have been friends for nearly as long as I've known him. You'd kill him because he took my toe?" Izzy asked, like he didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it.

"Don't act like you don't already know that," you sighed, the way you looked at him stealing the breath from Izzy's lungs. Yeah, he did know that. "You know I would, Iz. When I heard about what happened, I demanded that Jackie told me where the Revenge was last sighted. Had to come see if the rumours were true, and if they were...I had to kill or dismember Edward," you told him as if it were nothing, just a simple fact of life. For you, it was.

"I don't understand you," Izzy sighed, staring down at his lap.

"Oh c'mon, you know I've always sweet on you. Never tried to hide it," you nudged your shoulder against his, your words coming easy and with no shame. Just another fact.

You were sweet on him.

You cared for him.

You would kill Edward for him.

"Never understood that either," Izzy confessed.

You loved him.

And he lov-

"I'm going to ask again," you warned him.

"Please, don't," Izzy pleaded, bracing himself.

"Come with me, sail with me. Be my first mate. Fuck it, if Blackbeard can co-captain, so can I. Be my first mate or be my co-captain. Just come with me," you took his hand in yours, holding it in your lap.

Izzy at least did the decent thing at met your gaze as you spoke. As you pleaded with him to leave with you. As you silently promised to take care of him.

"I can't."

"You can," your thumb brushed over his palm, making him shiver, "and you should."

"I can't."

"I won't stop asking." Another simple fact of life.

You wouldn't stop asking.

You wouldn't give up on him.

"I know," Izzy found himself smiling slightly.

"And if Ed thinks he can make me leave this ship before I'm ready to go, he's obviously forgotten who I am," you huffed. You weren't leaving until you were ready, until you said everything you wanted to say.

"As stubborn as he is," Izzy agreed with a small nod, making you chuckle.

You just watched him for a moment. The slightest smile on his face, the pain in his eyes mixed with...something else.

"Fuck, Iz," suddenly feeling an intense wave of sympathy, you practically threw yourself at him. Arms circled around his neck as you embraced him.

"Wha-"

"Shut up," you mumbled into his shoulder.

And he did. Izzy let out a shaky breath before slowly returning your embrace, giving up his weak attempt at resisting and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"I don't care what you did, Izzy. If I were here, I wouldn't have let him hurt you, would have killed him if he tried. I don't even care if he was justified, people don't hurt my Israel and get away with it," you spoke into his hair, fingers running through his hair.

"I'm not your anything," he reminded you. Still, he tightened his hold on you.

"Not from lack of trying," you retorted. His grip tightened further.

"Are you going to kill him?" Izzy asked after a short silence, knowing that the two of you couldn't stay down here forever.

"...no. Only because I know it would hurt you," you conceded, pulling away from the embrace, cupping his neck in your hands, touch gentle and caressing. "But I am going to be having a word with him," you told him, using that tone that told him there was no point arguing.

He was looking at you in that way he did sometimes. Reverently. Like you were God's gift.

"My offer will always stand. If you ever decide to leave, there will always be a place for you with me," you promised him, running your thumb along his jaw. Izzy lent into the soft touch.

You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue as you watched him, deciding to take the chance. You closed the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his. Izzy didn't hesitate for a moment, like he had been expecting it, hoping for it. He didn't deny himself this one thing, desperately melting into you instead.

It wasn't the first kiss the two of you had shared during your time knowing each other but it had been so long that it felt like the first. And for the first time Izzy truly knew you would do anything for him. It only made this whole thing that much more difficult.

You weren't sure how much time had passed by the time you and Izzy remerged back onto the deck, but you didn't really care. Still ignoring the tense crew, you marched right over to the Captains' cabin

You didn't know, you just let yourself in. Edward could earn your respect back another day.

"I thought I told you-" Edward was up from his seat in an instant, glaring and pointing at you.

"Shut it, Teach," you rolled your eyes. To your surprise, he actually went silent. His glare remained. "You ordered me to leave but since when did I ever listen to you?"

"So, did you steal my first mate?" Edward asked bitterly, as if Izzy wasn't standing right beside you.

"Nah, he turned me down once again," you shrugged, trying not to lash out at Edward's smug look. "He should have accepted my offer, any sane man would, but it's always been Blackbeard and First Mate Hands, right?" you added.

"And always will be," Edward reminded you.

"Until you decide you've changed your mind," you agreed.

"What are you implying?" Edward growled.

"I'm not implying anything, and I'll get out of your hair, but one more thing..."

"Which is?"

You stepped up to Edward until you were only inches away from him, holding his gaze with no fear. Izzy watched you, hoping his awe didn't show on his face. Stede anxiously glanced between you both, wondering if he should step in.

"If you ever lay a hand on him again, I will kill you, Edward. I don't care what he does, I don't care if he kills half the crew, if you so much as slap him, I will kill you. Right in front of your crew," you threatened. Edward had known you long enough to know when your threats were real. This one certainly was.

"Now, I don't-" Stede began to protest but you didn't give him a chance.

"And you," you practically growled, pointing at Stede accusingly. "If you ever leave or hurt Edward again, I will track you down and kill you," your threat had the blond widening his eyes and going speechless.

"Do you both understand?" you asked, looking between them both.

"Yes," Stede nodded. Of course, he had no plans on hurting or leaving Edward ever again, so it would be an easy promise to keep.

"You've always been a protective friend," Edward recalled, almost fondly.

"Yeah. Just don't forget that my loyalties lie more with Izzy than they do you," you warned.

"You never let me forget it," Edward rolled his eyes.

Deciding that this conversation was over, you nodded and turned back to Izzy. "Remember what I said. No matter what, there's a place for you. Always will be."

"I know," Izzy nodded. And he really did, which made it all the more painful.

You sighed but accepted the answer before leaving the cabin, Izzy following after you. If Edward didn't like that, he could tell him about it later.

You didn't care if the crew was around, you gave Izzy one last hug before you returned to your ship, greeted by your diligent first mate before they shouted to raise the anchor.

On either ship, you and Izzy stood at the railing. Focused on nothing but each other, watching the distance between you both expand once again.

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #ofmd #our flag means death

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soft-for-them · 2 years

Text

The pearl of the Queen Anne's revenge - Edward Teach x reader

Summary: Years and years before Stede Bonnet there was you, the bright snarky pirate who wore pearls and a smile that captured the hearts of all the crew. (An Edward Teach x reader with slight Izzy x reader).

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Gender neutral but written with a nonbinary and/or trans masc reader in mind! The crew are all queer and polyamorous so sorry cis people, read any other fan fic in the world. (And yes this is a re-do from a deleted blog of mine, the old blog has my old pronouns and name so please ignore it.)

It is a cool bright day out at sea, the fluffy white clouds moving in clumps through the periwinkle blue sky so bright and cheery.

Then there’s Blackbeard’s ship so dark and looming with loud jubilant cheering sounding from the ghost ship, said ship drifting off from a now ransacked boat that has been deserted in the middle of the ocean.

“Everyone, smile we have treasure.” You giggle as you hold up a line of pearls with a delicate heart shaped gem charm hanging from the middle of it.

“Did you take the matching ring as well?” a crew mate clad head to toe in black leather asks which makes you raise the shiny ring up to the sun to your own delight.

The heart red gem, though deep and void like reflects the sun off of it like glitter, the gem yet to be tarnished by years of wear.

You had snatched the rich woman necklace whilst the rest of the crew were maiming, the matching ring taken from her lover who was also on board, his ring finger having to be sadly severed to get the matching set.

“We got so much and I didn’t even have to kill anyone!” you squeal.

“Stop being stupid (y/n).” Izzy snarls as he hangs being Ed like a guard dog, “We should have killed the lot of them.”

You spin around to Izzy, thus also spinning around to face your dear friend Ed, and you grimace with an immature mirth.

“Ohhhhh don’t be stupid (y/n) have a heart Izzy.” You mock as you try to clasp the line of pearls around your neck the tiny thing more like a choker on your bare neck, “They we’re just some rich pricks, nothing worth killing.”

Fang and Ivan laugh at your antics before promptly being shut up by a scolding glare from Izzy Hands himself.

“What do you think being a pirate is, huh?” Izzy has now stepped closer to you his voice low in a growl.

If you weren’t arguing with him you’d say the shorter man, not yet aged by the sea like some men on-board are, was quiet handsome in an angry Chihuahua short of way.

You stride close to Izzy, big black heeled boot rattling the deck, your grimace turning into an annoyingly playful smirk.

“Stealing shit Izzy, not killing innocents-” You reply as you jam you finger into his forehead.

Normally you’d jam a finger into a person’s chest to prove you point but you like to piss off the angry little man by using his height against him, “- not every ship we come across has to be burned to the bottom of the sea.”

Izzy is seething none the less, his eyes concentrating on you.

He may want to deck you right now but he knows not to lay a single finger on you because Blackbeard likes you too much.

You watch as he grates his teeth his eyes sharp and filled with rage, the cogs in his mind working overtime to think of something to say back to you.

“You killed the captain, why kill the rich pompous opera singer who was doing her job singing whilst fucking the second mate.”

You words are low and quite, vibrating in your chest.

Many people forget that you’re a feared criminal, young with the anger of a sea storm in your heart, Izzy most certainly does remember this most of the time, and really you could kill him in one swift motion if you wanted to.

Instead with a condescending pat to his cheek, your fingers tapping the freshly tattooed cross on his face in the most childish way possible, you step back.

Your royal red coat undone to show the knife strapped to you thigh, the sharp thing gleaming in the sun’s rays, you laugh a joyful laugh.

The crew is quiet as they watch on.

Blackbeard stands.

“Izzy, mate, lay off.”

Blackbeard, otherwise known as your Ed, is a bit shaky standing, his knee giving him some trouble despite him being as young as you.

His hair is growing out and still is mostly black, the feared Captain looking more like a Labrador puppy right now than the Kraken.

He smiles and bounds over to pat his angry little friend on the shoulder. Izzy only walks away in a huff.

“And you.” He says playfully, “You need to stop that.”

A song bird like laugh as bright as the blue sky echoes out your lips as you walk back to your captain.

“I don’t know what you mean?” you say when you’re close enough to Ed to see his handsome face up close.

“You know what I mean (y/n).” he so close to you it’s almost too tempting to lean in and kiss him like you’ve always wanted to do.

His eye gleam and sparkle as he looks at you, you’re not sure why, but you like to imagine some reasons.

First he looks you up and down, checking there’s no harm done to you, then he looks to the knife strapped to your thigh, then back to your eyes with a knowing look.

He’s about to open his mouth and playfully tell you off some more but you speak instead.

“Ed-“

“-Yes.” He says a tad too quick, too eager, which you like.

“Help me put these pearls on handsome.”

You pass him the line of pearls held together with fine thread and delicate golden clasps, the type of clasps that are too fiddly to clip together without another person to help.

You turn around moving your coat down to your shoulders and pulling any stray strand of hair out the way so he can put the necklace on properly.

The cold feeling of the cluster of pearls lay on your chest, the necklace laying nicely on display for everyone to see and marvel at.

Ed’s fingers brush the back of your neck.

Maybe there was a stray hair or a bit of fluff, whatever it was his fingertips feel electric.

His fingers keep bumping on the back of your neck warmed by the sun’s rays and that heat travels up to your face making you flush.

The clasp is hard to clip onto the small metal loop but Ed does it without fail.

His hands still don’t move after it’s done, not for a second anyway.

You stand still, the feeling of his fingers ghosting over your skin buzzing in such a way that you want him to hold you, feel you more. When he does move he does so to rearrange your shirt collar and to pull you lowered red coat back up.

“…All done.” Ed whispers.

“Really?” you turn around, still so close to him, “How do I look?”

His breath hitches ever so slightly at the sight of you.

Even with all of your outfit stolen; from the rich red Captains coat nicked from an English sailor to the white flowing shirt that once was owned by Fang, now the pearls too, you look to colourful and bright for the dark crew.

To Edward Teach you look like a painting, one done by a master of art, the type of painting done with oil paints bright and pigmented with brushes fine and expensive. You look like a piece of art that has been perfected, one by a man who has sat down for hours, days, even weeks brushing down the beauty of his muse so gorgeous and sunny.

“Ed?” you smile.

“Yes, yes!” he is pulled out his thoughts for a moment.

“I will need help taking these off later on.”

You step back from him.

“You will?”

“Yes, I’ll be by later on.”

Ed nods his head.

You’ll be in his cabin later on then.

#not proofread #our flag means death #ofmd #our flag means death x reader #ofmd x reader #edward teach #edward teach x reader #izzy hands #izzy hands x reader

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gnocchighoul · 4 years

Note

The boys (+undateables?) reactions when they discover MC is actually a vampire?

....so I’m a dingus and didn’t realize that this was also for the undateables and just wrote it for the brothers, my bad 😅 Part two maybe? 👀

WARNING: as this is about vampires, it’s a little bit morbid. I strayed away from being too graphic, but y’know. Vampires. There’s death and blood and such.

Enjoy! :D

Lucifer

In hindsight, he really should have figured it out on his own.

But it’s not like he’s been around enough humans lately to know what Normal human behavior is.

So he just kinda took your... quirks at face value.

So what if you’re far too comfortable with the Devildom’s constant state of nighttime? Solomon doesn’t seem to mind it either, so maybe humans are just more nocturnal now.

And perhaps your Very Strong aversion to garlic is a little odd, but Mammon wouldn't eat it either for the first 600 years of his life, so it’s not that weird.

You’re also not phased by constantly being surrounded by demons and monsters, which is a little strange, but maybe you’re just like the ancient greeks. A monster fucker.

You feeling right at home in the Devildom is auspicious for the exchange program, so he doesn’t bother dwelling on it.

Though maybe he does find it a little bit weird when you really insist that he start drinking cranberry juice.

(It’s just for health benefits of course, totally has nothing to do with you prepping your next meal)

So what, you may ask, triggers his big lightbulb moment?

You fall off the roof.

And you just get right back up.

Now he knows that humans aren’t supposed to be THAT durable, so he stops you from scaling the side of the fucking house with your bare hands, and very eloquently asks you, “What the fuck?”

You shake him off. “What? Mammon and I are playing roof-ball.”

Lucifer stares. “You fell. I saw how hard you hit the ground. You should be dead.”

You laugh. “Dead? Just from a little fall like that? Are you serio-ohhh wait. You don’t know, do you?”

You give him your biggest, cheesiest grin and—oh.

Fangs.

...And now he understands why you want him to drink cranberry juice.

Mammon

You are, by far, the weirdest human he’s ever met.

Which is saying something, because Solomon is literally just a few blocks away.

Seriously, despite camping out in your room nearly every single night, Mammon has never seen you sleep, he’s pretty fucking sure that sometimes you don’t even breathe, you won’t step foot into the House of Lamentation unless someone invites you in, and who the hell hates garlic that much??

But you’ve also expressed your intense dislike for crosses, so he supposes that you’re not unredeemable.

Just weird.

But it’s incredibly annoying how you wont sleep. Your tossin’ and turnin’ is killing him, why the fuck can’t you just settle down? You need to just put your DDD down and sleep already, dammit.

He sits up, ready to tear you a new one—and pauses.

“Um,” his voice is high, somewhat uncertain, and your eyes snap over to look at him. “Why are you looking at coffins for sale?”

You sigh, a bit wistfully. “I just can’t stand sleeping in a bed anymore. I didn’t want to be rude, so I really did try, but it's been a couple hundred years since I last had one and it’s just murder on my back. I think I’m gonna just have to get a coffin. They’re so much more comfortable.”

Briefly, Mammon considers running.

Instead, he says, “What the fuck?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You do know I’m a vampire, right?”

...What the fuck—

Mammon lays back down—crosses his arms over his chest with a huff and pretends that he isn’t totally freaked the fuck out. “‘Course I do, don’t be stupid. Now go to sleep already.”

So that he can escape before you try to eat him.

“Mammon,” you sing, leaning over the bed to loom over him. He swallows hard—can’t look away from your sharp, toothy grin.

You coo, “I can hear the scared little pitter patter of your heart, darling.”

He squeaks.

Levi

Honestly, Levi is so so happy to have another irl friend who’s into video games that he looks past your strangeness.

You like to stay indoors and play games!! That’s something he has in common with you that his brothers don’t, and that’s all that matters!

...Though he does find it a little weird how sometimes you just kinda sniff him.

The first dozen times he nearly had a heart attack, and when he asked why you were doing it, he Really wasn't expecting you to shrug and say “I dunno, you just smell tasty”

Seriously. Tasty? Are you Beel or something, what’s that supposed to mean?!

He’s not entirely sure why you’re a bit of a shut in gamer though, because despite your, ah, quirks, you’re still so much cooler than he is, so what’s the deal with that?

When he asks, you just shrug and say, “Old habits die hard, I guess. Real sunshine hurts, but virtual doesn’t, so I just got kinda used to living through games and staying indoors.”

“Oh.” Levi’s a bit surprised, but sympathetic. “So, you sunburn easily?”

He’s not entirely sure why you’re laughing now, since that wasn’t a joke. He was just trying to be friendly :(

But then you hug him and he’s too flustered to be offended anymore jndcks

So, when does it finally click for Levi that you’re a vampire?

You guys are having a game night in his room.

He accidentally takes a sip of your caprisun and realizes, very quickly, that it is not the refreshing juice of a caprisun pouch.

He throws up a little bit.

And screams.

And maybe blacks out for a few seconds.

But when he finally calms down and lets you explain, he’s pretty damn enchanted, because this is just like Help, My Roommate Is A Vampire And I Didn’t Know Until A Vampire-Hunter Mistook Me For Them And Attacked Me!! :D

Satan

Satan considers himself to be somewhat of a detective, y’know. His brain is just filled to the brim with Big Smarts

Naturally, he puts that jelly thicc thought tank of his to good use and realizes very quickly that you aren’t totally human.

At first, he isn’t totally sure what you are.

And then a coffin gets delivered to the house, which upon seeing you cheer “Oh sweet, my new bed!!” aaaand he puts the pieces together.

You become somewhat of a case study to him. You’re the first vampire he’s ever encountered and he just wants to know everything and anything about your life.

He’s so intrigued by you.

But you frustrate him SO much.

He wants to know about how you were turned!! It’s not like he has any other vampires that he can ask about their experience!! And you fucking tell him a different story every day!!

“A cat jumped over my deceased body!”

“I was stabbed and the wound wasn’t treated with boiling water!”

“On a dark and stormy night, I came across a palace and the owner, a hospitable gentleman, let me take refuge there. But then, I quickly realized that I was actually a hostage, and when I tried to escape, that fucker turned me!”

“Nobody put an obolus in my mouth to pay the toll of the Styx, so Charon the ferryman sent me back! What a great guy.”

“A chupacabra bit me!”

Needless to say, he considers breaking the wooden leg off one of the dining room chairs and stabbing you with it, but the lecture he would get from Lucifer just isn’t worth the effort.

He’s gonna pull the truth out of you one of these days.

Asmo

“My my, darling, what sharp teeth you have~” Asmo purrs, lifting a finger to brush against them, doe-eyes wide and curious. “The better to eat me with, hopefully?”

You smile. “Something like that.”

And you fuckin’ bite his finger.

His scream is fantastic. If you actually draw blood next time, maybe he’ll even shatter the windows!

He swats your leg sharply with a silk folding fan and cries, “What if you had broken my skin!? Do you have any idea how much time and effort goes into maintaining this soft, supple skin?! What’s wrong with you, you psychopath?”

“Don’t hit me,” you pout, scooting away from him. “I couldn’t help it! You just smell so sweet and I haven’t had any blood in a while, so—”

“Huh?” Asmo blinks, looking a bit confused. Then recovers far too quickly and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Oh, so that’s what you’re into! What a pleasant surprise~”

You thunk him on the back of the head. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to tease a vampire?”

Asmo’s grin could rival the sun.

“A vampire?! Well why didn’t you say so sooner?”

He’s already taking off his shirt.

“Get over here already and take a bite out of me~”

Beel

When he finds out that you’re a vampire, his first thought is to worry over if you can eat normal food or not.

He’s very relieved when you tell him that you can, so long as you’ve had enough blood, but that garlic is a very big no-no.

Naturally, you two bond over how both of you never quite feel full.

It’s not uncommon for the other house members to find you two laying face down on the floor, tummies rumbling, whining about how you’re staaaaarving

You carry around snacks for him, and Beel makes sure that you’ve always got access to blood (whether that means stashing blood bags, letting you feed from him, or a combo of both ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

He’s probably going to be the least weirded out by your ~undead tendencies~

Honestly, he’s a bit relieved by how strong you are. The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you or see you get hurt, and it gives him peace of mind when he realizes that you’re actually pretty durable!

But it does give him a fucking heart attack the first time he sees you yeet yourself out a second story window to crush poor, poor unassuming Mammon.

He also really loves how your body temperature naturally runs cold. He’s a space heater, you’re an icicle—it just works. Snuggle time is good :)

He totally compares the size of your incisors with his jkdcnkj

He just thinks you’re really neat!!!

But he is very sympathetic about how you cant eat good garlic bread :(

Belphie

Listen.

We all know this emo boy is a vampire fucker, probably even more so than Asmo.

(He read Twilight. He saw all the movies. He had merch.)

(Fuck Edward and Jacob though, he was Team Alice all the way.)

(If he can stay awake long enough, he reads really shitty vampire romance novels.)

He just thinks vampires are hot, okay? He can’t help that his soul longs to be a vampire fucker.

Just accept it into your heart. Belphie already has.

So needless to say, he’s THRILLED when he finds out that you’re a vampire. He tries to play it cool though and pretends that he isn’t immediately trying to jump your bones dfghjkjh

He overheard you telling Satan that you got bitten by a Chupacabra, and they’re known for going after cows right?

He is a cowboy, y’know, guess you’re just gonna have to go to him now when you’re thirsty, y’know, since you were bitten by a Chupacabra. it just makes sense, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(No it doesn’t)

(But let’s be real, are you gonna pass up the chance to snuggle the shit out of him AND get a snack out of it? No. No you’re not.)

(He totally makes you arm wrestle Beel to recreate the “Iconic” twilight scene with Emmett and Bella.)

(When he realizes that you’re strong, he’s gonna make you give him piggyback rides, just like Edward and Bella :) and no he doesn’t care how ridiculous you both look)

#gnocchicanons #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #swd obey me #obey me

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sweatergirlsposts · 4 years

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Imagine Being Part of The Wolf Pack and Imprinting on Carlisle (Oneshot)

(A/N: Back by demand here is a longgggg oneshot of this imagine. I’m a little rusty, but I hope you all like it)

Ever since you turned, life had gotten lonelier for you. Living the pack life meant separating yourself from your closest friends and finding only solace in your brothers and sister in the pack, but it wasn’t always enough. No one could know your secret, especially your mother.

Your mother thought all the stories about turning into wolves was entertaining for children, but to ponder on them as adults was a waste of time. Your father was a Quileute while your mother was a resident of Forks. Your father never turned or imprinted but he did fall in love with your mother and stayed on the La Push reservoir until he died.

You turned when you found out the news of your father’s mysterious death. The police described it as an accidental fall off a cliff, but you knew your father wouldn’t even be near a cliff, for he had an intense fear of heights. According to a police report, that you stole, they found long wavy auburn strands on his body. Your mother’s first thoughts were that your father probably had an affair, but you also knew that your father wouldn’t even dream about being with any women other than your mother. Least to say, your hypothesis was that your father was murdered.

Still living in La Push, you come up with excuses to your mother of why you’re always out late and how your friends with everyone in the pack. She thinks it’s weird but tells you that if it gets out of hand then she will ban you from leaving the house. You didn’t see the point seeing as were an adult, but you let her say whatever made her feel comfortable.

Currently, everyone in the pack were getting ready to go train with the vamps, or more formally known as the Cullens.

You only knew/heard of their family and individual names in passing, whenever Sam or Jacob would rely a thought through the pack connection. One name that you heard all time was Bella Swan, the human girl whom you’ve briefly met, that was involved with them. Everyone in the pack would always recoil at the thought of Bella and Edward, her Vampire significant other, being together. You could give less of a care in the world. The only thing you cared about was if they were to kill another human or if they passed into your land.

“Get ready to head out,” Sam yelled who stripped down to his skimmies like everyone else. To say that you go through a lot of undergarments in a week was an understatement.

“(Y/N), you take behind the pack,” Sam ordered. Sam trusted you to keep the pack safe from behind, seeing that you were just as strong as himself and Paul.

“Yes Sam,” you responded with compliance waiting for everyone else to turn before you did.

You changed thinking of the only thing that could make you enraged, the death of your father. Bursting from your human form, came forth your wolf form. You were covered in thick dark grey fur with highlights of white that reflected when the sun hit it just right.

‘Let’s go’ is all Sam said through the connection as Jacob howled to let the Cullens know that you all were coming.

Apparently according to Sam and Jacob, the Cullens had offered an olive branch because they need your help to take down a common enemy, rouge vampires. These vampires were coming after Bella and therefore were breaking the treaty of harming humans and would get the punishment the tribe saw fit for this conflict; to be put to death. One of the vampires of their coven, Jasper you believed his name was, said that they could train you to fight against these vampires, for his prior experience with some.

‘What is the point in meeting up with those bloodsuckers! What can they teach us that we don’t already about killing their kind.’ Paul sneered through the connection as you ran as a pack to the meeting spot.

‘It’s not about what they can teach us, it’s about keeping treaty and protecting our people, even if it means working with them for short amount of time’ Sam growled with his hackles raising to assert his dominance.

Sam was the first to make it over the hill to the clearing the Cullens agreed to meet up at. Still in a protective approach, one by one the pack emerged from the brush. Since you were last, Sam expected that you would circle the perimeter to make sure that there were no unexpected guests.

“They don’t trust us enough to be in their human forms,” you heard from a soft masculine, almost throaty voice, as you soon finished your circle around the area.

“They came. That’s what matters” said another voice that sounded silky and comforting. You shake the ghost chill that ran through your fur giving you goosebumps as you made your way up the hill.

“Will you translate?” asked the second voice before the first protested.

“Hold on there’s another one coming up the hill,” the voice sensed your approach making it’s way atop of the hill. Finally showing yourself, you observed the clearing in which everyone would practice in.

Your eyes came across each Cullen and Bella. One by one, you surveyed how each one looked with what you assumed to be their companion, until your eyes stopped on who you assumed was their leader that stood in front of your group.

And in that moment you could feel you heart almost drop out of your body. Your head became overwhelmed and dizzy as if you had rolled down a hill and you were trying to find your equilibrium to stand. Something flowed through your veins, stronger than hormones and more numbingly intoxicating than morphine. As soon as the feeling came hitting you like you ran into a brick wall, it disappeared.

You knew what you did and oh boy did you regret it. You imprinted on the angelic blond vampire in front of your whole pack and they felt it through the connection.

The vampire with Bella turned his head towards you with a taken aback look but also one of understanding. It was like he was reading your mind. He looked back and forth between you and ‘him’

‘Oh fuck’ is all you thought after imprinting on the vampire.

“Carlisle we might have a situation,” informed ‘Bella’s’ vampire to ‘him’ while still staring at you before letting him say anything.

Before you knew what was happening, Sam jumped atop of you knocking you onto your back.

‘YOU IMPRINTED ON ONE OF THEM!!’ Sam ferociously barked in your face, ready to attack in case you resisted.

‘Disgusting!’ yelled another through the connection.

‘I can’t control it Sam, you of all people know that’ you whimpered meekly. Considering that you usually had a strong demeanor, you’ve never felt so vulnerable and powerless within your time being in the pack.

“Hey!” called Bella’s vampire, “Let them go, they can’t control it”

You took advantage of this distraction and pushed Sam off of you. Once freed, for a mere moment, Sam caught you by the leg and punctured it with his massive teeth.

Letting out a yelp at the sudden pain to your hind leg, you donkey kicked Sam in the face with your other leg and ran away limping. You couldn’t believe what Sam just did to you. You needed air, you needed space from your pack, and from him.

All your instincts told you to turn around to be near your imprint, to protect the bewitchingly good looking vampire from your pack in case, but you couldn’t be near him. The shame that your stupid wolfy senses put upon your shoulders was too much to bare right now. All you wanted right now was be alone with your thoughts and to go get help for your leg.

Meanwhile in the clearing, all but one vampire was very confused at what went down.

“What just happened?” Bella asked being the first one to verbalize everyone else’s thoughts

“They imprinted on Carlisle,” Edward stated confound, “The one that Sam attacked”

No one was more surprised than Carlisle. He didn’t really know how to take it, especially if the feelings were coming from one of the people they had a treaty with. One thing he knew for sure was he needed to check on you, if that bite got infected while your out in the forest it was going to cause you a lot damage to your human self.

Reading Carlisle’s mind, Edward knew that he was coming along to track and translate once you were found.

Carlisle turned to Jasper, “You continue you to show them how to take care of the newborns, Edward and I will be back soon.”

Leaving the clearing, Carlisle followed Edward so he could track your mind to find you.

You laid on the river bank, still in your wolf form and bleeding from your back left leg. This river was the one that your father would take you to go fly fishing in when you were a kid. It was the river in between the land of both the Cullen’s and the Quileute’s, but the part you were at was far enough down that the pack wouldn’t hear your thoughts from there.

The pain from your leg hurt like a bitch. You were so livid with not only Sam and the pack, but yourself.

‘How could you be so stupid to imprint on one of them?!’ you thought to yourself, ‘Of all people and creatures, it had to be the people that your people were sworn enemies to! The pack will never want me back’

Trying to distract yourself from your mind, you tried ‘cleaning’ your wound with your tongue as disgusting as it sounds.

Edward could hear your thoughts of pain as you tried ‘cleaning’ the bite. Werewolf blood was in a way revolting like the smell of them. The blood was still edible but unnecessary to the vampire diet. Both Carlisle and himself, arrived at the edge of the tree line where you couldn’t see them.

“Let’s try not to scare them off. By the substantial smell of blood, if they keep straining the wound, they’re going to pass out soon,” Carlisle smelt the aroma lingering in the air, “I think you should go first to talk to them Edward”

You could smell that someone else was there. Vampire with possibly more vampires. You try standing up in case you have to defend yourself but stumble backwards.

“Easy (Y/N)” you whip your head to find Bella’s vampire walking towards you slowly from 10 feet away, “I’m Edward, and I’m here to help”

You wondered how he knew your name but remembered that his kind had special gifts, you assumed his was mind reading.

‘I don’t need your help, I need to be alone right now please,’ you growled lowly as a warning.

“I can’t let you do that, especially if you’re bleeding that much,” he said gesturing to your injured leg and how the thick substance spilled from it matting your fur.

‘There’s more of you here, I smell someone else’

“I brought someone that could help your leg. I brought Carlisle, he’s the one you imprinted on”

You let his roll around in your mind. It sounded like the name of someone who belonged to bloodline of royalty. Edward smirked reading how you played around with Carlisle’s name.

Starting to feel the blood loss, you fall down into a laying position on your side.

“Carlisle!” Edward called over to his adoptive father as he watched you fall to the ground

Catching your breath, you felt two presences over your form, Edward by your muzzle while Carlisle was by your leg analyzing it.

“They’re losing a lot of blood. We’re going to have to get them to turn back so we can wrap a tourniquet around their leg,” Carlisle relays to Edward before turning to you, “I’m going to need you to revert back so I can help you”

You looked into his amber eyes. Even though his colour was similar to Edward’s and the rest of the Cullens, you could see that his had matured longer to be that certain colour. It was like first day break rays hitting rich honey.

‘I will be nude if I change back. Can I have a cover of some sort?’

“Carlisle, (Y/N) would like to use your jacket to cover up when they turn, if that’s okay they asked”

Carlisle had no objection there, as a doctor he had seen everything but he understood that you would like to cover any and all modesty. He took off his jacket and placed it over your large form.

You calmed down and slowly felt yourself shrink back into your human body with the jacket, thankfully, covering enough of your skin. Edward held your head above the rocks, trying to keep you awake. Carlisle took off his blue crew neck sweater, leaving him in a white undershirt, and made the tourniquet on your upper thigh above the teeth gash on your inner and outer thigh. The blood soaked through the sweater but Carlisle didn’t care, his main concern was getting you some where to stitch you up.

“We should take them back to the house. Edward call Alice to tell them to stay out of the house for a couple hours”

Finally looking to your face, Carlisle had to stop for a second to take you in. Your features were soft yet seemed like they were chiseled in a likeness to statues he had seen in his time with the Volturi. There was only one word that came to how he felt when it came to looking at you in your human form.

Alive

As if a shock of electricity flowed through him, and jump started his heart he could see why you imprinted on him. If he was your imprint then you were his ‘true’ mate.

Similarly to imprinting, when Vampires find their ‘true’ mates an eternal romantic bond is formed, it cannot be broken, and it can be anyone. Esme and himself acted as partners for many years as to not draw attention from the locals, for it would be suspicious that two individuals would raise six adopted children. He too had been lonely for over the last three and a half centuries but he would have never suspected that you, a shapeshifter, would be his true mate.

Again for the second time today, Edward was astonished but had to stay composed enough for Carlisle and to not drink your blood.

“We should get them back Carlisle,” Edward broke Carlisle’s train of thought back to the fact you were indeed bleeding out. Edward moved away a couple steps so he could get out his phone and call Alice.

“I’ll send you the money for your dry cleaning,” you said to Carlisle, wearily trying to stay conscious.

“No need to do that (Miss/Mr/Mx) (Y/N). Edward and I are going to take you back to our house to give you stitchs”

“I would like that very much,” you slurred feeling the effects of blood loss before falling into unconsciousness.

Carlisle scooped you up into his arms. In perfect contrast, your form burned and he was frigid to the touch. It was comfortable for once not being the temperature of a blast furnace for you, and him to not feel like glacier to others.

Meeting your imprint was far from how some of the pack described meeting their’s, especially with all the blood and confusion. Eventually, you knew that you’d forgive Sam for what he did to you. And he and the pack would come to a place of understanding for their feelings about you and your imprint. For now, you knew while floating in between being conscious or unconscious in the doctors arms, that you’ll never feel truly lonely ever again.

MASTERLIST

(Request are open! Gif Source Unknown)

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 3 years

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Unexpected Places (Pt. 02 of 11)

Pairing: Ivar the Boneless X Reader/Bjorn X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: As a princess, you've lived in a golden cage all your life, always a piece on someone else's game. But everything changed when the Norsemen came crushing down on Wessex, like waves in a violent storm. Their king spared your life and decided to take you with him to his kingdom, in what felt more like a rescue than a kidnapping. There, you were not only confronted with a completely different culture and lifestyle, but also with two of his sons. The oldest one has his eyes set on you, but it's the youngest one, Ivar, who gets who claimed your attention since the first sight. And he seems to have an unnamed interest in you. Of course you hoped whatever that was would pass, but when unexpected feelings start to flow a different way, things begin to change.

<- Previous part 01

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{Vikings Masterlist}

A Christian Among Vikings

It takes two days to share your entire life with the Queen of Kattegat, but she did seem interested after you started. Mostly on the parts where you give voice to everything you couldn't stand. The lies and hypocrisy. That, Aslaug loves, and you have no trouble telling her that. It feels good to say all these things without the fear of being caught.

So, since today you'll finally go to the feast they're still having for the third night on a roll to celebrate this year's raid, you relax in the tub, the warm water slowly getting colder, a sign that you'll have to leave soon.

You're stretching your legs, watching the water drops rolling from your ankle to your knee, before falling back into the water. “Aslaug, where's the–” The voice makes you turn your head at the door, pulling your legs down to the safety of the water. Ragnar stands there, wide eyes and mouth half-open. “I thought this was my wife.”

“Well, it isn't so go away.” Thanks to the distance, you know he can't see anything, but even so, it makes you uncomfortable.

“I live here, do you know that?” He snaps back and you roll your eyes.

“I don't care. I'm not your wife so get out.”

“This is my–”

“Get out!” You raise your voice, throwing water at him. “Or I'll scream for help.” You're not scared of Ragnar, and you don't think he'll try anything. But you know him enough to know he's a teaser, and he loves putting people in uncomfortable positions.

He raises an eyebrow, shrugging his shoulders. “Then do it.”

Squinting your eyes, you move closer to the edge, making sure he won't be able to see anything. “Help!” You shout, trying not to laugh. The situation is quite funny, and, if he wanted to try anything, he'd already moved. So you decide to play along. “Somebody help me!” When you hear footsteps, you smirk victoriously. But, when another man comes in, the smile fades, and out of instinct, you cross your arms over your chest.

“What's going on here?” The guy asks, confused as hell, furrowing his eyebrows at you and then at Ragnar.

“Princess, this is Hvitserk, my son, who so bravely came to your rescue.” Ragnar starts, pacing around to the other edge of the room. “Hvitserk, this is (Y/N). Aslaug has been keeping her in here I have no idea why.” He sounds a little pissed, but you don't mind him in the back, your eyes focused on his son.

“Hi.”

“Would the two of you just leave?” Now you're annoyed, running a hand through your soaked hair. Relieve washes over you when Aslaug comes through the door, her eyes quickly finding her husband.

“What's going on here?” She mutters, and through the corner of your eye, you see Ragnar already moving.

“Just came to take this.” He answers, showing her something you can't see, right before leaving, grabbing his son's arm and pulling him along.

“Your husband is a complete idiot.” You say, relaxing once again.

“I noticed.” She gestures at the dress she brought you, laying on a chair. “Get dressed. I'll do your hair like a Viking woman and you'll join the feast tonight.”

Doing as she says, you put on the dress, which is different from everything you ever wore. The fabric is strong, yet beautiful, in a wonderful shade of blue with golden details that look like flowers. Aslaug braids your hair, way too patiently, and when she's done, you do look like a Viking. She even teaches you how to paint your eyes, and you wonder why she changed so much in these two days. As you wait for her to get ready, with the aid of her slaves, you decide to ask.

“Why are you being so nice to me now?” Playing with the tip of one of the many braids, you rest your back against the chair you're seated on. “When I got here I thought I'd end up living with that Lagertha.”

“Because it's more than rare to find a Christian I don't find stupid.” Dismissing the girls, she stands up. You're not entirely sure that was a compliment, but you decide to take it. “And I have the feeling, mostly after everything you told me, that this was most of a rescue than a kidnapping.”

She has a point. “It certainly does.”

“Now, come. Today I want to introduce you to the town.”

“Introduce me?” Following her, you wonder what that's about.

Aslaug doesn't answer, and it doesn't take much until you start hearing the feast. How long do these things last? Is the third day and it doesn't seem like anyone is tired. The moment the Queen enters, some heads turns, and, as she stands right before her chair, a silence starts to fall. You stat in the back, waiting to see what's going on when she gestures for you to come. Taking a deep breath, you move to stand next to her.

Many eyes lie on you. Probably all of them. You can identify hate, curiosity, disgust, indifference... And other things you can't quite place. At least you look like one of them... It must be of some help.

“People of Kattegat, this is Princess (Y/N), daughter of King Ecbert of Wessex,” Aslaug speaks, loud and clear. “She was brought here by my husband, and now will live among us.” That gets some people talking. They're not particularly excited about a Christian among them... You can't blame them. Your people kill them, and they kill your people back. They're like natural enemies. “I'm aware of the fact that you have no affection for her kind, and neither do I. So that's why she will tell you what she told me.”

A breath gets caught on your throat, and for a moment you feel like you're back home, forced to admit your sins, even though you haven't committed any. You've been in situations like this, but now, it's different. You can speak. You can let out the very thoughts that once had you imprisoned, confined to your chambers for days no end. Maybe they'll understand, unlike people in Wessex. Aslaug did. “Tell what?” You ask because you did speak great too many things with her. You have no idea where to begin.

“Tell them about your relationship with your faith.” She seems so secure, unbothered by how some men and women look so angry at this whole thing.

Taking a deep breath, you look ahead, eyes scanning through the room for any kind face... But it takes a long time until you find that Ragnar son who went to your rescue, Hvitserk. He doesn't look like he hates you, so you focus on him. “I have no love for the Catholic faith.” You start, stepping forward. “Since I was little, they've been telling me you worship false gods, made of stone, wood, iron, and silver. But they do the same.” Hvitserk furrows his eyebrows as if asking something. “My father himself spent hours repeating prayers for a cross made of gold. They accuse you of doing the same things they do.” If your older brother heard this, you'd be whipped, probably. “They're all hypocrites, punishing and condemning people for the same sins they commit, over and over again, and that I could never accept.” Chuckling, you move your eyes from Hvitserk, noticing how some angry faces are now... Inquisitive. “I was told you're all murderers, but so are they. So what if you come home covered by the blood of your enemies? Isn't that what a battle is? If it was me on the battlefield, I'd rather kill a hundred men than die by their hands.” The hall erupts on yells and shouts, hands being raised. It takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you're scared they heard enough, and decided to end your life right here and now. But the yells are from... Praising, approval. “And, as Ragnar Lothbrok as my witness, I'd rather face death than go back into the life I had there. If I can even call that a life.”

“That's true.” Bjorn raises his voice, coming from behind some men. “The moment she learned her father was dead, he stood before my father, ready to face her fate. I've never seen a Christian girl do that.”

“Don't forget about how she stood in the pouring rain with that idiot over there,” Ragnar says, pointing out his hand at Floki, who's standing on a chair or something, at the very back, watching the commotion.

Floki giggles, tilting his head at Ragnar. “Even though she can't swim. And don't get me wrong, I'd still rather she fell off to the mighty waves than have her here with us.”

“Don't say that Floki,” Aslaug warns, moving to sit on her chair. “I plan to make a Viking out of (Y/N) since she's more than eager to leave behind everything she once knew.”

“No doubt.” You mutter, wondering if this is it, if you can go sit down somewhere.

“What about that man, Edward?” Bjorn asks, coming to stand before you. He's so damn tall. You don't think you ever met a man this tall before. “You said something about a marriage.”

“Oh, that.” Rolling your eyes, you shrug your shoulders. “My father would have me dragged down the aisle in chains if it was necessary since the political implications of the union were... Delicate. But you guys decided to show up and ruin his plans. Thankfully.”

“Was he that bad?”

“The most disgusting man I've ever met in my life, so, as the Queen said herself a few moments earlier...” Turning at the people once again, you sigh. You don't expect to be accepted by everyone here, you just hope they won't hate you. Not so much, at least. “This was more like a rescue than a kidnapping.”

“Well, now that you know our new resident, I must make something very clear,” Aslaug speaks up, her voice rising above everyone else's. “(Y/N) is a free woman.” She takes a cup from the small table set next to her chair, spinning it in her hand, not bothering to look up from it. “Whoever touches her loses the balls, the hands, and the tongue... As a start.”

You giggle, thinking she's joking, but by the way, the silence persists for quite a long time, you understand that was no joke. And that's very good. That will surely keep them away from you.

“Well, let's celebrate!” Ragnar shouts, and everyone sets in motion again.

You're not sure where to go, so you find a table that's half-empty to sit down, taking a cup and filling it. Being isolated for two days with Aslaug didn't really help you being sociable, and it does feel like you're from two different worlds now. Because that's the truth, even though you're dressed like them. There's an invisible barrier keeping everyone distant, and not only for what Aslaug just said.

“Hey there.” Someone says as they settle down by your side. Hvitserk glances at you, kindly smiling. “Sorry about earlier. Heard a girl screaming, thought something bad was happening.”

“Well, something bad was happening. Your father was annoying me to death.” Taking a few sips from your drink, your eyes find that man again, Ivar. He's seated on Ragnar's chair, chatting with his mother. As if being called, he stares straight at you, suddenly angry.

“I see you already met my little brother,” Hvitserk mutters, and only then do you notice he had followed your gaze.

Clearing your throat, you look away. “Not really. But by the looks of it, he hates me.”

“I wouldn't say he hates you. Ivar is just... Not really fond of the idea of–”

“Of a Christian girl among us.” The voice comes from the head of the table, and when you raise your eyes, you see the man himself. But this time, you don't let his eyes pull you. Somehow, you manage to distract yourself. “You know you're only here because my mother wants to turn you into a Viking.”

“I'm not interested in being anything else than myself.” Drinking what is left on your cup, you sigh. “Haven't had the chance since I was born.”

“Do you really expect anyone here to believe you didn't like being a princess?” His tone is mocking you, a fake pity expression on his face.

“Being a princess in England might be fun if you just do as everyone says, no questions asked.” For some reason, you're pissed. Ivar pushed some button that got you suddenly annoyed, so you stand up, bending over the table to get the jar and refill your cup. But before you can reach it, Ivar takes the thing, drinking straight from it, some of the liquid dripping on his chin. Sighing, you squint your eyes at him, a humorless laugh escaping your lips.

“Here.” The voice gets your attention, and when you turn at him, you see Bjorn filling your cup again. “This one's better anyway.”

“Thanks.” Sitting back down, you give Ivar one last glance before taking long sips.

“Are you going to live here?” Bjorn asks. “Or are you going to live with my mother after all?”

“I'm staying.” Nodding, you look at him. His mother is the most famous shieldmaiden in the world, a skillful fighter. Also Ragnar's ex-wife, reason why Aslaug can't stand her. “The Queen already helped me settle on my chambers.”

“That's good.” He smiles, and a man pushes his shoulder quite violently. Bjorn turns to face him, cursing, but soon enough bursting into laughter.

Ignoring the two men, you look down at your cup, now almost empty again. Music starts playing suddenly, and it doesn't take much for people to start dancing. It gets louder as the minutes go by, and Ragnar and Floki stand on your table, moving around and laughing, kicking everything out. Your eyes follow the whole commotion, standing up and stepping away from the table when they get a little too close. But you don't mind. You've never seen people acting so... Crazy. So happy. And you can't stop smiling, seeing as other people join them.

“I bet you never saw anything like that,” Hvitserk says, raising his voice a little to make himself heard. “I know how boring the feats are in England.”

“This is so much better.” Ragnar jumps to the ground, but one of his legs get caught in between the bench and the table, making him fall. But on the next second, he's up again, a smile on his lips. “My brother would have a heart attack if he ever saw this.”

“Aethelwulf?”

“Yeah.” Someone bumps on your back, making you almost fall. But Hvitserk holds you up, and he seems quite confused to find you laughing. “What? It's alright, I like it. At least this chaos is real, people aren't faking it.” As your eyes move through the hall, you find Ragnar, behind this weird curtain made of leather. You didn't even know he left. “What's that weirdo doing over there?”

“He's observing.” Hvitserk answers, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “From back there, he can see who's sleeping with who. Who's not sleeping with who anymore, who may be plotting something to put him in a dangerous position.”

“Smart guy.” Nodding to yourself, your attention is stolen by the crowd, that starts moving outside, shouting something you can't really understand. “What's going on?”

“Someone's gonna fight. Come watch.” Hvitserk helps you walk among the people, all the way to the beach. Torches came out of nowhere, illuminating the night. Everyone seems oddly happy for this to be about a fight, but Hvitserck wasn't wrong. On the sand, the two men pace around each other, shouting, cursing.

“What's this about?” It happened out of nowhere, and you're not sure how serious this is. The warriors are clearly pissed at each other, but the public is cheerful. This is when you feel how new and different this culture is. Something like this would never happen back at Wessex, and it will take a while for you to get used and understand how things work here. It's a shock, a sudden impact.

“They're both in love with the same woman. She claims she loves both, but they won't share.” Hvitserk explains, as someone passes him a torch, which he holds up high. “The one who survives gets to be with her.”

“Damn.” You mutter as the two men start attacking each other. You've never seen an actual fight. Girls aren't allowed on the battlefield, mostly not a princess. The only glimpses you had were from soldiers training, and it was nothing compared to this. This is violent, powerful, and you can't help but be impressed by their skills. Of course they're good. They're Vikings, a freaking force of nature, they had told you back in England. It's impressive how they keep getting back up, even after so many wounds. Cuts, punches, everything.

A particular loud shout coming from the crowd gets your attention. It's Ivar, seated on the sand, eyes shining and a bright smile on his lips. He's enjoying this. Everyone is, actually. And once again, as if you called his name out loud, he turns to look at you. And somehow you know exactly what he's looking for. Fear, desperation. He wants to see if you're scared.

But... You're not.

Every single person here is joyfully yelling, and those two men choose their fates. They're not being forced to it, it was their decision, as it was yours to stand up, neck exposed, ready for the ax Ragnar was holding. They're choosing to face death, fearlessly.

Then, your eyes aren't on Ivar anymore, but following the men's every move. It doesn't take much for you to gasp and yelp when one or the other successes to throw a blow. You feel like a savage, laughing at the thought of what your father and brother would say if they saw you now.

When the tallest man, with long dark hair, falls dead, the crowd goes insane. The victorious raises both his hands, still holding an ax. A woman comes from the crowd, hugging and kissing him. “That's insane.” You chuckle, running a hand through your braided hair. “Teach me.” The request comes out suddenly, and you don't even give it much thought.

“Are you sure about it?” He asks, looking down at you. Hvitserk is being nice to you, and that's a surprise.

“I mean, I could never be a shieldmaiden but... I'd like to know how to defend myself.”

“Well, I've got nothing to do tomorrow, so I guess we could start.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you smile. “Thanks. You're the quickest and... Probably the most real friend I've ever made.”

“Yeah, you'll need someone to help you out around here until you get the hang of things. Ragnar gave me this task.”

“Oh...” Looking down, you start walking back to the hall, following Hvitserk's pace. Maybe it was a little stupid to expect him to be so nice to you. “You don't have to. I will get used to things on my own.”

“I didn't mean it like that.” He quickly responds, leaving the torch on some post along the way. “You're pretty cool, actually. For a Christian. You've been a good friend so far.” He gives you a glance and a smirk. “And I don't have to obey my father, you know.”

Blushing a little, you giggle. “Thanks again, then.”

“Now, get a good night sleep and get ready for tomorrow, I mean...” Hvitserk takes a look over his shoulder, a little too dramatic for your taste. “If my older brother doesn't mind it.”

“What do you mean?” Following his gaze, you find Bjorn staring. He doesn't seem angry, but he's not happy either.

“I think Bjorn likes you.”

“And? If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have watched the fight.” Shrugging your shoulders, you stop at the entrance of the hall, waiting as the crowd moves inside. “You've done more for me than he did tonight.”

“So you enjoyed the fight?”

“I have no idea why, or how, but I did.” Nodding, you smile again. “Now, friend, let's drink some more, and maybe I'll consider dancing.” Gesturing at the hall, you both walk in.

The warmth is welcome, and you soon find your way back to the table. But, as you sit down, you see Ivar again, crawling. He moves fast, talking to a man. As he moves past your table, he gives you a stare. It's different from before, but you can't read it. His eyes, like magnets, attract you in a way you didn't even know was possible. You think about waving, or smiling, but then he looks away and disappears inside the house.

“Don't mind Ivar,” Hvitserk says, and you look down at your cup. “He'll get used to your presence.”

“Let's hope he will.”

@multific @revolution-starter @crackhead1-800 @youbloodymadgenius @clown-boyyy @kitten0394 @castielsangelx-blog @goldlion07 @midnightmystic @readsalot73 @xvxcarolinexvx @momowhoo @fangfoxy @msrawog @walkingonshunshine @alytavzla

#ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #imagine ivar #ivar vikings #ivar the boneless #imagine ivar vikings #imagine ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless fanfiction #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar vikings x reader #ivar x reader #imagine vikings #vikings x reader #vikings fanfiction #bjorn imagine #imagine bjorn

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george-mackay-macfine · 3 years

Text

Let's play a game. Prt 4.

A/N: Sorry it took so long, I had uni but how are you all liking the story and the characters?

Tag list; @neocil @cjand10 @queen-bunnyears @rebelflower19

If you want to join the tag list let me know.

"Let me in, Edwards." Hastings continued to bang on the door.

"No," I called back at him. "I don't want to spend another night in your bed. Never. Ever." Back braced against the wood.

"Don't lie. You'll make the baby Jesus cry."

"Shut up, Hastings." I turned, fingers digging into the wood grain as I stood on my tippy-toes watching him. There he was out in the hallway, one arm resting on the other side of the door, his teeth showing as he laughed all too easily at his own dumb joke. "I'm not opening the door, so you may as well leave." He rolled his eyes, looking at the peephole. "I'm serious." He stood there for a minute, contemplating the options I'd given him.

"Fine." He pushed away from the door. "Have it your way." and then he was gone, disappearing down the hallway.

"Alone again, finally." I pushed myself away and walked back into my kitchen, where my frozen meal sat on the cutting board. I'd been reading the directions before Hastings had so rudely interrupted me. "Heat on high for ten minutes… ten minutes." I picked the box up and looked at it. "You're supposed to be easy and quick!" I cried at it as if it had the ability to apologise for the disgusting amount of time I was going to have to wait for it to heat up.

"I am sorry about this." I heard Hastings voice from the hallway. "Forgot my key again." Jude Hastings says what now?

"It's not a problem, Jude. I'm just happy you and Darcy finally got over your issues." The voice of my too sweet, too kind, too naive landlady Patricia Gregson cooed at Hastings. "And what you have planned for the night, It's the least I can do after the effort you've gone through." Was the last she said before the door swung open.

"Honey, I'm home." My own personal demon smirked, stepping into my house. My domain. He was not allowed in my house. "What are you doing there? I told you I was taking you to my apartment for a special dinner." He walked in like he owned the place.

"Hi Darcy, sweetheart." Patricia waved from the hallway. "I was just telling Jude here how happy I am for the two of you." She smiled happily. "If my Colin was around to see you two now." She shook her head, her eyes glazing over to another time. She pulled herself back, shaking her head, looking at both Jude and I. "He'd be so happy to see this. We always knew you'd wind up together."

Oh, Patricia. If only you knew.

"Yeah." I nodded my head, unable to break her heart. "It's a shock to us all." I walked over to where he stood and slung an arm around his waist. "Thanks for letting him in." I smiled through gritted teeth. "I must have been in the bathroom when he was knocking."

"You've been peeing a lot lately." Hastings looked down at me. "When was your last period? You don't think-"

"I better be off, lots to do." Patricia reached in and grabbed the door handle, quickly pulling it shut behind her. When I'm sure she was gone, I pushed Hastings away from me, shoving him hard.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"What?"

"What?" I mimicked his stupid voice. "You just insinuated to my landlady that I am with child, you absolute dickhead."

"Sorry." He snorted.

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, sorry." He turned away and started to look through my house. "You packed your bag yet?"

"You know I haven't." I sighed.

"Well, go pack one." He put his hands on his hips, his shirt lifting as he moved to reveal the slither of flesh that I have a distinct memory of running my tongue across last night.

"Look, Hastings… Tonight really isn't a good night." I ran a hand through my hair. "I have to be at work early tomorrow, and it's just… I don't know how ready I'll be to teach a group of kids if I don't wake up in my own bed, and I'm still tense from a sleepless night lying beside you." I admitted. "I know what the whole game is, but I don't know if I can play tonight-"

"Darcy." He stopped me mid-speech. "Don't worry about the game. Your job's more important." He pointed through to where my bedroom was visible. "Besides, your bed looks comfortable, so I don't mind. I'll sleep here." He shrugged, walking into the small kitchen. "We'll order some food because that looks like unappealing crap… watch a movie, and then I'll woo you to death." I watched him. For the first time in a long time, I watched Jude Hastings rifle through the assortment of take away menu's I had hanging on the fridge. His body looked abnormally large in the small kitchen. "Aha." He cheered when he found a menu he liked. "Chinese." For the first time in a long time, all I could think was maybe this wouldn't be the worst night ever.

"What are you doing."

"Ordering us Chinese." He waved the menu. "Still a fan of chow mien?"

"You remember?"

"You ate it every Friday for a year." He winked. "And I have a good memory."

"I see your good at self-encouragement."

"It's not the only thing I'm good at." He smirked, holding his phone to his ear. "I'm also good at rescuing a damsel in distress from a microwave meal."

"I'm not going to sleep with you again, Hastings." I walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, grabbing the nearby glasses. "So this whole thing, the hot guy coming to order Chinese food with his dreamy bedroom eyes… It won't work."

"You think I have dreamy bedroom eyes?" He gave a lopsided grin. "Hi yes," He spoke into the phone. "Can I order a delivery please." I tuned him out as I poured the two glasses of white wine and sat down at the small island bench. I wasn't even sure if he drank wine, but it was open, and I wasn't one to waste alcohol. "It'll be about fifteen-twenty minutes."

"Okay." I passed the second glass of wine to him, taking a large sip of my own.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Only if it's a good one I don't want anything subpar." He moved, sitting beside me on the second chair. His glass of wine clanking against the bench as he moved. He leaned in, his free hand brushing hair behind my ear, teasingly slow.

"If you think I was giving you bedroom eyes before." He chuckled lowly, head dipping so our eyes were level, the very tip of his nose bushing mine. "Then you won't believe what it's like when I really give you bedroom eyes."

"You think you're so smooth, don't you."

Part of me really wanted to see those bedroom eyes, the other part of me knew that I may not have the will to not sleep with him again if I did.

"I don't, actually." He pulled away slightly. "But I'm trying to win your heart, and your beautiful, so I'm going to tell you."

"Are you drunk?"

"No." I leant an elbow on the counter, laying my head in my hand looking up at him. "And tomorrow morning, I'm still going to be sober, and you." He shook his head, looking up to the ceiling. "You… You are still going to be beautiful." Am I imagining this, or is THE Jude Hastings giving me a compliment.

"Woe." I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. A big smile, one that felt like it was the first genuine smile I'd had in years. "You really are a smooth, smooth man Hastings."

"Why do you never call me Jude?"

"Why do you hardly call me Darcy."

"Because you call me Hastings all the time."

"I only call you Hastings because—"I stumbled. "I don't know I've just always called you Hastings." I sat up, pulling one of my knees up into my chest. "Who knows, maybe one day I'll call you Jude."

"I think my heart would stop if you ever did that,"

"How do you think the town is taking the news of our epic romance?"

"Well, I checked the obituaries this morning, so far we haven't shocked anyone to death yet."

"So you're saying we've failed." I laughed. "A day of pretending to be a couple and no one has rolled over and died?" I gasped.

"Maybe that means that we need to step it up, huh?"

"Flattering, but I am not interested."

"Honeybird," Another new nickname? Calm down Edwards. "You looked me in the eye a little too long to not be interested in me."

"You're really trying this aren't you." I waved a finger between us.

"Trying what?"

"To get me to fall in love with you." A smile pulled on his lips, not his usual asshole smirk, but a genuine smile, the one that to make butterflies launch themselves all around my stomach.

"It'd be an honour to have the Darcy Alice Edwards fall in love with me, so I'm going to give it my all."

"As it would be an honour to break your heart, Jude Alexander Hastings."

"So you do know how to say my name." He sat back, arms crossing over his chest as he looked me feigning shock. "I'm also going to need you to tell Sato that Fredrick isn't my real middle name."

"No." I began to pick at the hem of my nightgown, thankful he'd given me a Segway comment from the conversation that was getting all too serious too fast. "I don't think I can do that,"

"What is the obsession."

"With?"

"Telling people I have that heinous name as any part of me?"

"I like the idea of all these girls being so enraptured by Jude Hastings, picturing themselves as Mrs Jude Hastings, then having that dream crash and burn around them when they think that your middle name is Fredrick… I mean the name isn't exactly a turn-on." I shrugged. Hastings watched me for a moment, studying me as if this was the first time he, a male, had ever come in contact with me, a female.

"You really are evil." His hand stretched out, his fingers tapping against my temple gently. "This brain in here, it was made for terrible, terrible things,"

"Not terrible things." I denied. "Just terrible things when you're involved."

I needed him to stop touching me, because the slight rub of his fingers over my skin made flashbacks from last night pop up all over my brain, which caused my heart rate to increase, which caused me to want to see if he was as good as he was last night sober, which was a horrible thought to have indeed when you're dealing with a childhood enemy.

"More wine." I stood and walked back to the fridge, ignoring the half-open bottle on the table. I needed space from him.

"There's wine here." I kept my back to him, walking to the small sink and standing in front of it. I needed my space. I hated Jude Hastings, with a passion… But something inside of me wanted to let him in, let him change my mind about him, or at least let a part of him in… "Darcy." His voice was suddenly behind me, his hands on my hips, the edge of my shirt lifting as he held on.

Stop it Darcy. Stop thinking with your metaphorical dick.

His right hand left my hip and went to the hair that covered my neck, pushing it out of the way. My hands gripped onto the bench tighter, as I told myself over and over not to turn around, not to face him because if I did then that was it. We'd end up in my bed, our incoming food forgotten. But then his lips touched my neck and my knees went weak as my head lolled backwards resting on his shoulder, and I wasn't sure I was in the mood for Chinese anymore. I turned around, looking up at Hastings.

"Do you want to know what I think when I think about you, Darcy?" He whispered, his hands pushing the hair behind my ear as I numbly nodded. "I see the little girl who wore a sunflower sundress and ran around my parents' backyard like a kid on a sugar high." I knew the exact dress he was talking about. "The little girl who I got Christmas photos with every year up until we were thirteen… That was when you started to hate me." He was right. "You will always be the little girl I had a crush on when I was eight."

"You… You had a crush on me?" A smile that made my heart race spread across his lips.

"Only the biggest one, you were the cutest girl I'd ever seen."

Don't fall for it Darcy, this is all part of his big old plan to make you fall in love with his stupid squishable face.

"Dinner will be here in a minute. I'm going to wash up." I sidestepped around him and made my way to my small bathroom. "Get together, Darcy." I muttered, leaning against the door as soon as I'd shut it, disconnecting myself from the girl who was just fawning all over Hastings. "Fuck," I walked over the sink and took a look at myself. My cheeks were flushed and my hair was slightly puffed from where Hastings had moved it aside to kiss my neck.

Involving parents and colleagues was a level of dirty. Inflicting emotional bullshit from the past was a whole new level of dirty. Clearly, Hastings had no problem playing that card.

If he really thinks he can get me on the sentimental crap just because I'm a woman, then I'm going to use the greatest weakness of a man against him.

"Hastings, you are going down." My hands gripped onto the edge of the sink as I formulated my plan. Thankfully years of watching Hastings be a man whore in front of me I knew exactly what to do to get his blood pumping.

"Darcy," His fingers tapped against the door, "Dinner is here."

"You start." I walked over pulling the door open wide. "I'm just going to change." I walked past him and into my bedroom, shutting the sliding doors that cut it off from the rest of the apartment, making sure I left a sizeable gap for any peering eyes - trust me, there were going to be peeping eyes. "Where are you," I muttered, looking at the pile of clothes I'd discarded before I'd begun cooking today. I needed Hastings shirt. "Bingo." I spotted the white material underneath my jeans. Stripping from the dress I made sure the straps of my bra - I'd paid a lot for it once upon a time, I needed it to come through for me - could be seen, or at least enough for Hastings to see through the thin fabric of his shirt. Pulling it over my body, I fastened the buttons before pulling a pair of white socks over my feet. I could feel his eyes on me as I stood back up, fixing my hair and pulling the shirt down.

Play innocent, Darcy.

"Smells good." I called out as I turned. There he was, standing at the kitchen bench filled with Chinese take out watching me. His eyes looked drastically darker and I don't think it was just because of the distance between us. I pushed the doors open trying to control the smile that wanted to break out on my face as I walked over to the bench. "Yum." I picked up the container of chow mien. "You not eating?"

"What I want isn't exactly on the menu."

"Oh?" I picked up the menu and waved it. "They're usually pretty good. You could have asked them to make it." I lifted myself up onto a clean spot on the bench, crossing my legs underneath each other. "I'm sure it could have been on the menu."

"Darcy," His eyes were travelling all over my body. "This isn't fair."

"What I'm going to eat all this Chinese, and you don't get any?"

"Yeah." He picked up a nearby carton and shoved a pair of chopsticks inside. "Something like that."

"I can't wait for bed." I lifted one of my arms above my head and stretched, cool air hitting the newly exposed skin. "I'm so beat."

"Fucking Christ." He mumbled, shaking his head.

Darcy - One.

Man-whore demon - nill.

"Language." I quipped, picking a noodle from the carton and popping it into my mouth. "Mhhhmm." I moaned excessively at the taste. Turn it up, why don't you, Darcy.

Good luck not busting a nut tonight, Hastings.

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #Dylan O'Brien story #Dylan O'Brien Head Cannon #dylan o'brien x reader #Calahan Skogman #Calahan Skogman imagine #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Imagine #Harry Styles one shot #Dylan O'Brien One shot #George MacKay #George MacKay imagine

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plasticnightmaredoll · 3 years

Photo

So, this is a little goofy thing featuring Arkham Knight Eddie and a female!o/c that was inspired by an actual dream I had recently. Like, literally, the dream mentioned in this story is almost exactly the same.

It’s pretty short and I’m....not entirely sure it’s good but I dunno...I wanted to get that dream out of my head somehow and turn it into something positive so...here is this silly drabble.

Contains some smut and suggestive comments, but nothing overly explicit.

Words: 2104 Title: i'm best when I'm In love Rating: M (going with the AO3 smutty content labels here)

“My Dear, you’re struggling,” Edward said as he moved one of his pawns.

“Well, I have yet to beat you, Eddie,” Sara responded in a tense voice, letting out a sharp, frustrated breath.

“True, but lately, you’ve been performing much better than this. Right now, your tactics are sloppy, like when I first started teaching you.”

“Chess takes time to learn, right?”

“Correct, and you have the benefit of learning from an astounding genius like myself. However, your focus is not on the game, so no matter what I say, you’re still going to lose much sooner than you should.”

“It’s not over yet.”

Edward’s gaze moved from the chess board to Sara’s agitated expression, noting the almost pained look in her eyes as she tried so very hard to concentrate on the game. It was easy to see that she was becoming more panicked by the second, and whatever skills she had acquired from his teachings had gone out the window for the time being.

“No, but the way you’re tap, tap, tapping that Knight piece on the table indicates there’s a much more serious problem here,” Edward said.

Sara hadn’t even realized she was doing it, and quickly stopped once she looked down at her right hand. The Knight piece was given a much-needed break as she set it on the table and tried to gather her thoughts.

“Sorry,” Sara said, running a hand through her hair.

As much as Edward wanted for Sara to look at him, he knew how nerve-wracking it could be for her to make direct eye contact when she was upset. It did sadden him, though, that she had barely glanced at him the whole time they’d been together that day, and part of him wondered if there was something he did to make her uncomfortable -- or something he didn’t do. Both of them had a lot of pent up emotions, and while they were quick to unleash them when under stress, they were also terrible at asking for help or simply being vulnerable in general. So, he had to approach this cautiously.

“Where is your mind at, Dearest Devinette?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

Sara let out a little huff which was as close to a chuckle as she could muster upon hearing one of his (rather adorable) nicknames for her.

“I’ve just got something on my mind,” she replied, resting her head in her left hand as she leaned on the table.

“Obviously,” said Edward, rolling his eyes. “But what precisely is on your mind?”

Sara chewed on her lower lip as she pondered how to respond. It was stupid, she told herself, what she was thinking, what she had been thinking, and she was almost embarrassed to admit it out loud -- let alone to herself. Edward was not going to take “no” for an answer, though, nor would he believe any lie she could toss into his lap. She was a terrible liar to begin with, and he was far too perceptive.

“It’s about, um….” Sara began, her throat starting to clamp up as her heart raced in her chest. “It’s, uh, about...a…”

The need to “hide” was too great at that moment, and Sara abruptly stood and turned her back to Edward, bringing her index finger to her mouth to bite at the second knuckle.

“It’s about a dream I had recently,” Sara confessed, her mouth dry and her heart beating so loudly in her ears she thought Edward might hear it.

“Ok?” Edward said slowly, waiting for her to continue despite feeling a little impatient.

As much as Edward wanted to help his love, there was little he could do without knowing the details of what troubled her so. Being helpless like this -- being helpless at all -- always drove him crazy. He needed to solve this, but he also needed answers first.

“Well, in the dream, we were working together,” Sara continued. “At a job. At a company. We were programmers.”

“It sounds like a very tame dream so far,” Edward commented.

“We were on a project together, and we liked each other. You liked me. I felt so happy to be noticed by a guy, and I thought I had a chance with you. But then...things changed. A new programmer started working there, a pretty blonde woman who was really smart. Like, a natural. You suddenly stopped paying attention to me, choosing to spend time with her. You both looked very happy, had lots to talk about, and whenever I tried to get your attention, you would...brush me off. You even...removed yourself from the project we were working on so you could work with this woman on a different one. I was invisible to you after that, and very alone.”

Edward felt a mixture of frustration, sympathy, confusion, and hurt over Sara’s dream. It was pure nonsense, no doubt, in every possible way, but clearly, it had an effect on her. Insecurities could twist your thoughts and emotions in painful ways, ways that didn’t even make sense. But they tugged at you until you gave into them and believed what they believed.

He could relate to that, even if he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud.

Edward got up from the table and approached Sara, wrapping his arms around her from behind to hold her against him.

“Oh, my silly little riddle,” he said with a smile, trying to brighten her spirits in some way. “It was just a dream, nothing more.”

“But...would you ever…?” Sara asked, her voice cracking.

“Would I ever, what?”

“Leave me for someone smarter, prettier…”

“What? No! Don’t be foolish!”

Edward made Sara turn to face him, his heart breaking upon seeing her tear-streaked face.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Edward said, cupping her face in his hands so she’d look at him. “You are the only one I want to be with. That dream was absolute nonsense, My Dear. I cannot even fathom for a second the mere idea of choosing someone else over you…” He leaned in and nuzzled her nose with his, smiling sweetly. “...my favorite distraction, my Darling Devinette, my Ravishing Riddle...”

Sara snorted, a grin spreading across her face.

“My Endearing Enigma,” Edward added, relieved to see her giggling.

“The nicknames are killing me,” Sara said, wiping her face. “You’re goofy.”

“”Goofy? Goofy, you say?”

“Yes, and a total fucking nerd!”

“Oh, is that how it is then? Hmm?”

Edward scooped Sara up into his arms, humming contentedly.

“Well, this ‘Goofy Nerd’ is going to whisk you off to bed and physically -- very physically -- demonstrate to you exactly how I feel.”

“Oh, my…” Sara said with a chuckle.

“I am going to make it so that you won’t be capable of coherent thoughts or speech,” Edward said with a smirk as he carried her to their bedroom. “You’ll be so overwhelmed with pleasure that the only thing you’ll be able to do is feel. No more negative, idiotic thoughts!”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sara said, biting her lip.

---

“Oh, God, Eddie, there, please!”

“You’re so perfect, My Darling, so perfect…I can’t get enough...Oh, God!”

“What?”

“Oh, no, no, no...not now!”

Sara watched Edward sit up, one hand covering the lower half of his face. While she couldn’t see anything yet, she knew what was happening.

“Oh, Eddie,” she said, quickly grabbing tissues for him.

Edward took them and applied them to his bleeding nose, looking completely humiliated. Sara reached out to him, brushing hair from his face, but he jerked away, too embarrassed to even look at her. The poor man suffered from chronic nosebleeds, probably because his nose had been broken so many times (Thanks, Batman), and sometimes he got them during the most inconvenient moments.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” Sara said.

She followed Edward into the bathroom, grabbing a wad of paper towels to hand to him for his nose. He threw the bloody tissues into the waste bin with a grunt, still unable to look her in the eye.

“I’ll run a bath,” Sara said as she went to turn on the tub faucet.

Edward’s nosebleed did slow while the tub filled up, but he still hated himself. Why did he have to have one while he was in the middle of…? With her? He was supposed to be making her feel good, not...bleeding on her. It was disgusting -- he felt disgusting. What kind of lover was he?

Sara tapped Edward’s shoulder, telling him the bath was ready. He mumbled something, tossing the blood-soaked paper towels into the waste bin before turning to her. Why did she have to look at him like that? Like she was worried? Why did she care so much? Why wasn’t she angry with him for ruining ‘the mood?’ Or grossed out? There was drying blood on her shoulder still, and yet, she didn’t seem to care.

Edward and Sara got into the tub with her sitting behind him. Taking a rag, she soaked it in the bathwater then handed it to him so he could clean his nose, lips, and chin of blood, and thankfully, the nosebleed had stopped by then. When she started to shampoo his hair, her elegant fingers lightly scratching his scalp as she hummed some random tune, he remembered the dream she had told him about. Once his hair was rinsed, he turned to face her, his expression full of guilt and sorrow.

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Sara asked.

“This is just one of the many reasons why I could never want someone else,” Edward said quietly. “You’re so kind to me, so gentle...and I didn’t do anything to deserve it -- to deserve you. No one has ever treated me the way you do, no one has ever looked at me the way you do, no one has ever spoken to me the way you do.... I never realized how...how alone I was until I met you. I’d do anything for you, give up everything for you…”

Even my own life, he thought.

“So, please, never doubt how much you mean to me,” Edward said.

Sara was blushing, trying to come up with a response but too flustered to speak properly.

“I...I don’t know ….I don’t know...what to say,” she admitted, smiling shyly. “I’ve….never heard someone say something like that before…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Edward assured her with a small, warm smile. “Just be with me.”

“Of course.”

Edward turned around so he could rest against her, his head on her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. While he was planning to finish what he started once they were out of the tub and back into bed, in that moment, he felt absolutely perfect where he was. All his life, he’d never had affectionate physical contact. Sure, there was the awkward hug here and there, or obligatory embrace when he had a lover (and there were very, very, very few of those), but nothing that was genuine or even remotely pleasant.

But in moments like this one with his beloved, he felt like he could be as vulnerable as he needed because she’d never hurt or humiliate him. When she hugged him, it was always warm and welcoming. Whenever she held his hand, she loved to lace their fingers together, almost like she was “trapping” him but in the most romantic way possible. Whenever she kissed him, he felt absolutely smitten because her kisses were so comforting or even playful.

“I love you, My Dearest Horny Geek,” Sara whispered, barely holding back a cute chuckle.

Edward rolled his eyes but smirked at her outrageously endearing nickname for him.

“And I love you, My Dearest Horny Enigma,” he replied, and they both couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Two horny peas in a pod,” she said as she placed a kiss to the top of his head. “And, you know, if you’re still up for it, you could put your ‘pea’ back in my ‘pod’ once we’re done with this bath.”

Edward slowly turned his head to look up at Sara, his cheeks a bright pink and his gaze full of bewilderment. When she snorted in amusement, he soon found himself joining her in a fit of childish giggles. And here she had been worried he would fall out of love with her. No one could make him laugh or grin like he did. No one could make him feel loved and needed like she did.

Only her.

What a lucky little shit he was….

----

And there we have it! Hopefully it’s not too crappy. I’m not totally satisfied with it but don’t feel like making it a longer story (at least, not right now). Let me know what you think and damn, I have really depressing dreams sometimes.

#arkham knight riddler #edward nigma #riddler #edward nigma x oc #riddler x oc #the riddler #edward nygma #the riddler x oc #edward nygma x oc #nsft #fluff and smut #feels

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dercolaris · 3 years

Text

Future

Another translation of a small Scriddler story. I was having a pretty bad day today, so I needed something reassuring. Something that reminds me that everything will be okay soon... Stay safe and sound.

Song: https://youtu.be/PAsY3aTmz2I

The faint rustling of paper sounded as his thin fingers carefully turned the pages of the antique book. A pleasant smell of much too bitter coffee and sweet pumpkin spice was lingering in the air, wafting slowly through all the rooms of the apartment. Jonathan took a small sip of the self-mixed brew, then sighed with a hint of satisfaction. Ever since Harley introduced him to different types of syrups, the former psychiatrist didn't want to do without the added pumpkin flavour in particular. The brown-haired man looked up from his book for a moment and stared out of the window. The icy rain pattered ceaselessly down from the deep grey sky, moistening the streets of Gotham with an even film of water. Again and again, hooded figures wandered the side walks, looking for protection under dark umbrellas and already soggy hoods. A typical late autumn afternoon. Jonathan wrinkled the meager remains of his nose and crossed his legs in a more comfortable sitting position. It was his very first week at home since his surprisingly early release from the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. His eyes fell back to the open page in his lap, read the next words of the chapter a little absent-mindedly, which, however, no longer made any sense due to a lack of concentration. The lean man put a hand to his forehead and massaged his tense skin vigorously. How could he have suspected that the effects of his own fear toxin could still be felt for several months after inhaling it and sometimes expressed itself in very ambiguous symptoms? The brown-haired man bit his lip. It was extremely frustrating. In addition to occasional panic attacks, terrible nightmares, and persistent paranoia, the inability to stay focused was an unbearable limitation for the Master of Fear. Jonathan snorted bitterly. Was it still right to call himself that? All of Gotham had finally been able to watch him being thrown in the dust by Batman. Live. On camera. Completely scared and on the verge of madness. The only downer was that he actually managed to unmask the Bat and break the spell of a faceless superhero with no weakness. Bruce Wayne. Actually, it should have been way too obvious to everyone. Technical equipment at this level required a huge amount of money, or at least enough resources, to get hold of these developments. The millionaire was the only one in Gotham to own both. Why hadn't any of them ever thought of this possibility? Normally, almost all villains of the underground were convinced representatives of genius and mentally superior in comparison to the rest of mankind. The gaunt man stopped and pushed his bulky reading glasses up his nose. Perhaps that thought had just been to absurd for everyone, because the playboy had played his double role perfectly. The weekly, public appearances at charity events and the other reticence about private life made the heir a typical, clichéd millionaire, who would logically never get his fingers dirty. Who on the right mind would have thought, that Bruce Wayne would actually slipped through the air at night in a stupid costume and beat up criminals in dark alleys? The brown-haired man tapped the dark book cover a few times. Batman was a phantom of the past. The millionaire was believed to have been torn to pieces by a massive explosion at the Wayne manor. However, persistent rumours still lingered that this was all just a farce of the Bat to elegantly disappear from the public viewers. Basically an almost understandable and necessary action, since in addition to countless onlookers, journalists and cameras in particular had besieged the villa without interruption after the unmasking.

Despite this consideration, there was currently no legitimate reason to doubt the millionaire's death. Batman hadn't appeared since the tragedy. There were no sightings and the Batsignal no longer shone in the nights. The superhero had fallen. For good. Of course, that didn't mean that the criminals could do whatever they wanted now. Robin in particular had almost seamlessly taken on the role of Gotham's guardian. He now single-handedly held the villains at bay. Little Red Riding Hood benefited from the fact, that on the fateful night, the Bat ensured that a large part of the well-known underground had already landed in jail and that the streets were reasonably safe. At such times, Robin could of course put a stop to all the small criminals without any major problems. The situation did not last very long, of course, as the main rogues were gradually released. However, it had been worth gold for his entry as sole patron of Gotham. Jonathan heaved himself out of the chair with a groan, then finally placed the book and reading glasses on the side table. He hobbled over to the slightly misted window, stared lost at the rain. Almost a whole year had passed him completely. The weeks in the asylum were like a dark veil in his memory - hardly comprehensible or reconstructed. Only feverish fragments from terrible, nightmare-plagued nights thronged him again and again and haunted him at the most inopportune moments. The former psychiatrist dropped his forehead carefully on the cold glass, closing his tired eyes. He still hadn't decided how to shape the rest of his life. What great opportunities did he still have? He could no longer take up a normal job within society and even if he tried, who would give him a chance after all that he had done to the people of Gotham? People feared or hated him, mostly they did both, and wherever the lean man appeared there was instant commotion. It was now safer for him to only leave the apartment in the late evening hours. Jonathan swallowed a heavy lump in his throat. Was there any other way than turning back to crime? The other villains at least harboured no grudges against him and let the Master of Fear continue to participate with them if he wanted to.

Despite the unexpected support, the brown-haired man felt that his time in the abyss of the city was over. He had practically given up his place in their ranks during long therapy session. In his current state, returning as Scarecrow was out of the question anyway. The former psychiatrist put his torn hand on the glass and gently wiped the haze from the surface. It hurt. It hurt so much. What had he fought for all these years? Teaching people to be afraid had been his job, his life-task and now? It was an irony of fate that a multitude of newly developed phobias in his personality severely hindered his participation in life and forced him to rot miserably like a snail, withdrawn in his own apartment. He was just a shadow of himself, a prisoner of his own fears. The brown-haired man whimpered barely audibly and felt the first tears want to press from his eyes. He had cried enough for his liking in the past few months. To get other thoughts, he pushed himself away from the window and stepped back to the armchair, fished for the coffee mug as he passed the table. The liquid was completely cool by now. Without further ado, the gaunt man left the living room. The dark corridor with the creaking floorboards was just as unbearably quiet as the rest of the apartment. This condemned silence around him. In the quiet, the agonizing voices and screams grew louder in his mind, eventually overlaying his own voice in his head. There was, of course, the possibility to listen to music or to watch some television on high volume, but actually the former psychiatrist didn't want to flee permanently from his inner demons. The Master of Fear strolled towards the kitchen, looking at the slowly emerging clutter at the sink. An army of used coffee mugs. Jonathan smiled a little and emptied the content of the cup in his hand in two gulps. After the work was done, he placed another soldier on the shrinking, free area in the sink. At the latest when there was literally no more porcelain to be found in the cupboards, he had to wash up for better or worse. The faint ticking of the wall clock made him shudder. He no longer had any feeling for time and space. There were days when he looked at his watch and hours had passed in the blink of an eye. At the same time, however, the incidents in which the minutes only passed in slow motion increased, especially during panic attacks.

This constant change made the lean man extremely difficult to stand his mental condition. He didn't want to think about it any further and walked out of the kitchen, considering going back to his book. His mind dismissed this thought after a moment. The concentration would no longer be sufficient for reading today. A loud rumble from the end of the hall made him jumped a little bit. He had gotten so scared. Jonathan turned to the source of the noise and stumbled leisurely towards the small level of light that shone through the slightly opened door. His fingers pushed the wood carefully inward. His room mate and now loyal partner came into sight. The black hair stuck out from his head in a tangled way, partly stuck to his sweaty forehead with a little motor oil, partly covering the dark welding goggles. The green shirt was torn in some places and the greyed-out T-shirt had also seen much better days. The man balanced a wrench in his hands, the other was tightening a nut on a turn. Edward paused for a moment and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, which was fairly clean. He mumbled softly: "Come on, Ed, just a few more screws, a little soldering and the baby will learn to walk again." Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest, watching the distracted inventor. Edward had also spent some time in Arkham, but had been released about four months before the former psychiatrist. Looking ahead, the black-haired man had looked for a spacious apartment outside the centre and meticulously prepared the return of his better half. Much of the underground still couldn't quite believe it. During his incarceration, Edward had touchingly taken care of his distraught partner, revealing unequivocally that they were more than just friends or occasional partners in crime. How long they had shared a bed, however, remained their well-kept secret. The thin man smiled a little, lost in contemplation of his lover. He was immensely grateful to the Riddler, but could rarely show this - he didn't even want to talk about speaking. Both sides knew about it and accepted it tacitly. Still, the tinkerer would burst out from time to time about the lack of affection. He needed constant validation that he was really doing everything right and that he was valuable, somehow useful to his partner.

The former psychiatrist was now ready to give him this confirmation without reservation, on the contrary at the time before his collapse, when such rallies were the exception. Basically, they helped each other in their own helplessness. To his amazement, Edward had also stayed away from crimes since his release and seemed to have no ambition to change it anytime soon. A few weeks after returning to normal life, the inventor found a well-paid job in a small, medium-sized security technology company. He was still eyed suspiciously, but no one spoke up or was visibly resentful. Apparently, the Riddler's deeds were more likely to be forgiven than the hated Scarecrow's destructive rage. A few minutes passed before Jonathan limped carefully towards the black-haired man. Edward still hadn't noticed him, completely absorbed in his work. The Master of Fear considered briefly whether to say something, but then decided against it. The battered arms wrapped themselves lovingly around the tinker's waist from behind, pulling the man close to his bony chest. Edward winced noticeably, but relaxed again in the same instant. He leaned against his partner and muttered, played a bit offended: “What the hell, John, are you out of your mind? Do you want to scare me to death?" The addressed laughed dryly, replied unexpectedly warmly: "This was actually not my intention, Ed, although I have to admit that the thought alone arouses certain desires in me." The Riddler chuckled softly, put the wrench regardless of the metal box in front of him. Finally, he placed the oil-smeared fingers on the former psychiatrist's, gently stroking the brittle and torn skin with his fingertips. The black-haired man was unusually warm. A fact that Jonathan secretly loved about him. He kissed the back of his partner's head gently, held him close to his chest for a moment and felt his own tension release with the passing seconds. Edward's amused voice nestled in his ear: "Don't get any ideas, John."

After a few seconds, the tinkerer freed himself from the hug, turned around with a swing and put his arms around the neck of the brown-haired man. Since they were about the same size, the former psychiatrist could look into the blue eyes of the lively soul in front of him. What he saw took his breath away. The usual arrogance was surrounded by an honest devotion and profound love for him. Jonathan couldn't help but smile. He let his forehead fall to his lover's, breathed unusually calmly against his lips. Edward's skin was covered in goosebumps, a signal that this undivided attention towards the inventor was not going unnoticed. Almost in sync, they both closed their eyes, enjoying the intimate closeness and security in each other's arms. The former psychiatrist whispered softly: "It wouldn't occur to me in a dream, Edward." With that, he further narrowed the distance between their lips, finally sealing them in an auspicious kiss. The black-haired man granted a low, muffled moan and surrendered to the touch. Jonathan let himself fall at that moment, pushing aside all the negative thoughts of the afternoon. The rare cells that were responsible for processing positive sensations began to stir somewhere in his head. Maybe not everything was as hopeless as he thought.

#DC #Batman #arkham knight #Arkham Asylum #Jonathan Crane #Edward Nygma #Riddler #Scarecrow #Riddlecrow #Scriddler #No Fear #Just Trust

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twilightsagasworld · 4 years

Text

Jasper Hale x (gen z) Reader One-shot

Requested by @writingwieny

“Up, down, left, left , up-” “What on earth are you doing (y/n)?” I stopped in my tracks. Edward stood in my doorway, a puzzled look on his face. I shrugged, pointing to the smartphone that was on a shelf, “I’m trying to work on this dance for TikTok, it’s really complicated and-” I stopped seeing that Edward was still confused, “TikTok?” he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, walking further into the room, I nodded, “Yeah! It’s this new app that allows creators to post short videos of whatever they want” Edward nods, “and the popular thing right now are dances, so-” he cut me off, “So you’re trying to get in on it, right?” I nod with a smile, Edward pursed his lips seemingly satisfied and excused himself, I stared after him, “Edweirdo” I grinned at my nickname for him before I closed my door and started my routine again.

Or I tried to.

Not a moment later the door burst open again and in walked Alice, Jasper, Renesmee and Bella. “Did Edward snitch?” I put my hands on my hips, one eyebrow arched, Alice clasped her hands together, a radiant smile on her face, she wiggled her eyebrows at me, “Duh, of course he did silly! Why else would we be here” Renesmee grinned beside Bella, and Jasper just came over and gave me a soft kiss on my cheek making me return it happily. Bella cleared her throat, eyes darting to my phone, “So, uhm...” “Do you guys want to join me?” I might as well put the offer on the table, Renesmee and Alice reacted simultaneously, “Yeah!”, I grinned, “Awesome, Bella?” Bella’s eyes went wide and she threw her hands up, “No thanks (y/n), dancing isn’t my thing”, Alice sighed, “Bella is good at a lot of things, but dancing is dangerous” Bella bit her lip, “Thanks Alice” , sarcasm was heavily noted. I shot a look at Jasper, asking if he was interested, Jasper kindly declined, “I’ll supervise”, I knew better than to force Jasper into something so I ruffled his hair, making him nip my arm lightly, I laughed, “Alright Jas, whatever you say”.

I held out my phone, “Let’s get started grandma’s”, I motioned for them to stand on either side of me, the phone was back against the shelf, and a video started to play, “Okay, we just have to follow the girl’’s moves, easy-peasy”, Alice and Renesmee nodded, Bella made herself comfortable next to Jasper on the couch in the corner as we began.

A lot of starting over happened and jokes were made. Renesmee kept forgetting to move her hips and Alice didn’t really mess up, but I couldn’t help but bust out laughing each time I saw Bella’s and Jasper’s faces, Bella was focused on the video while subtly trying to copy the moves and Jasper, well, Jasper just had a permanent smile etched onto his face, while his feet tapped to the rythm of the music softly. It was sweet in a way.

But, we finally perfected the dance, and I posted it to TikTok. Alice and Renesmee were talking about downloading the app too and I encouraged it enthusiastically. I gave a thumbs up,“You guys will totally pass the vibe check!”, I received confused looks from everyone in the room and I sighed exasperated, “You mean to tell me, you guys” I gestured with a hand to everyone, “Don’t know what a vibe check is?”, Bella let out a “Nope”, popping the ‘P’. I stared at them in disbelief, before snapping my fingers in a zig-zag motion, “Looks like I’m going to have to give you a gen-Z rundown”. I started listing popular phrases and words and explained what they meant. By the end of it everyone was well educated on the ‘Gen-z vocabulary’.

Renesmee and Alice thought it would be a great idea to gather the whole family in the living room to discuss what they had learned and Jasper and I followed behind, hand in hand down the stairs, taking our time, I leaned in towards Jasper and whispered softly that I kind of regretted telling them about everything and Jasper huffed out a quiet chuckle, “Too late now darlin’”, I groaned, “I suppose..Honestly, this is not a vibe”, we met the others in the living room and found a spot to sit, Emmett greeted Jasper with a fist pump as Alice and Renesmee started their speech. Carlisle and Esme nodded accordingly. I just rested my head on Jasper’s shoulder as he made small circles on my palm with his thumb. I planted a kiss to his shoulder which made him turn his head down to me with a toothy grin. I drowned out Alice and Renesmee’s voices and closed my gold coloured eyes. I made a mental note to plot against Edward for snitching on me. I peaked at him and caught his smirk, I glared at him, stupid shiny volvo owner, Edward glanced my way and I just stuck out my tongue.

Carlisle’s voice drew my attention, “So, (y/n), I have a question, if you don’t mind”, I shook my head, “Yes?”, Carlisle nodded, “Well, what does ‘gen-z’ mean? I haven’t heard it before”, I sat up slowly, still holding Jasper’s hand as I explained, “Well, gen-z is short for generation-z, so take me for example, I was born in 2000, making me a gen-z, and every 10 or so years there’s a category for people born in those years, like, if someone was born between 1989 and 1999 they’re called Millennial’s, understand?” I hope I explained it well enough, but Carlisle seemed to get it, “Very well then, I think the family will be using you as a dictionary for a while” there was a chorus of agreement, “I don’t mind, I’ll teach you all about the hottest trends and celebrities!” Emmett let out a loud “Whoop!” and rubbed his hands together, “Master (y/n) in da house!” I laughed at Emmett’s antics.

I just hoped I wasn’t going to regret anything too much. But knowing Emmett, I’ll probably regret it within the week. At least I had Jasper to keep me from ripping Emmett’s head off.

I was not wrong. Within a week Emmett had blurted out every Tiktok Quote imaginable. One such case was when I was at the kitchen counter editing a recent TikTok of mine. Emmett snuck up from behind me and very, very loudly yelled, “SLEEP LIKE NO ONE’S WATCHING!”, I almost crushed my phone. I glared at him, “Emmett, what the hell dude?!” I held a hand over my chest, “If I had a heartbeat I’d have had a heart attack you nunce” I punched his gut but it obviously did nothing. Emmett laughed. When I registered what he yelled I gave him a look, “And that doesn’t even make sense, what’d you use that TikTok quote for?”, Emmett shrugged, “Heck, I don’t know, but I saw it on a video Alice was watching” “Oh my- Emmett, you can’t just randomly blurt out Tiktok quotes, it has to have- Oh hey Rosalie” I waved as she walked into the kitchen, probably to come see where her husband was, “Hi, (y/n)” Emmett gave her a big kiss and when they broke away Rosalie smiled, but Emmett had to ruin the moment, “This was the moment where everyone knew that she was that bitch, and will always be that bitch”. Rosalie clearly didn’t understand so I jumped in, “He means to say that you’re the best and will always be the best, it’s a-” “TikTok thing, yeah I know, Renesmee and Alice keep watching those weird videos on their phones, I geuss my monkey man here joined them” she smirked up at Emmett, “You know me babe” I shook my head, they’re a strange couple, but it’s nice. Which got me thinking, “Hey, where’s Jasper? I haven’’t seen him since this morning” I missed my mate’s company, there isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t want him near me. I think Rosalie wanted to answer but Carlisle and Esme joined us, “Jasper is hunting with Edward, they decided to go a bit further into the mountains for mountain lions” I thanked Carlisle, “Fire” I replied, but the present Cullen’s gave me concerned looks, Carlisle and Esme glanced at each other, I cuaght on and groaned, “It means cool, okay, thanks, it’s a TikTok- oh whatever” I excused myself and went to wait on the balcony for Jasper, “I need my unproblematic man!”. Bella probably rolled her eyes when she heard that, it’s one of the things she’s good at, rolling them eyes.

When Jasper and Edward returned I immediately tackled Jasper to the forest floor, his arms held me close, “Hey you, yeah you, I love you” I said muffled into his chest, Jasper chuckled sweetly, “Darlin’ I’ll love you for a thousand years...Also, did you succeed in not ripping Emmett’s head off?” Jasper helped me up and wrapped an arm around my waist as we went back inside, I smile goofily up at him, like a child who was busy being praised, “Yup, it was hard, but I only punched him!” Jasper planted a kiss on my head and I knew he could feel all my love and affections.

“Yo, (y/n)! Don’t grow up, it’s a trap!”

Jasper looked down at me but I just shrugged, “Hey, that’s your brother”, Jasper cringed, “He’s adopted”

#jasper hale x reader #Jaspercullen #jasper hale #twilight x reader #twilight #twilight requests #oneshot #twilight fanfiction

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ad1thi · 4 years

Text

@starklysteve me?? spamming you w recs because i love talking about my ships?? more likely than you think :)) (here’s some rhodeytony to get you started on what is objectively the best tony ship)

i place your hands around my neck: @fanfictiongreenirises

"Rhodey could practically feel his lungs getting heavier again, weighed down by roots of plants that he’d thought would never take hold in him again."

Or: the one where Rhodey's been pining over Tony for much longer than either of them realised and develops the Hanahaki disease

Pretend We’re In Love (The Heartache Still Hurts): @marvelingjules

Rhodey's dad is dying, and what he's always wanted is for Rhodey to be happily married. Tony and Rhodey were best friends, and haven't spoken in years. But after a chance meeting at the airport, and a desperate, insane idea on Rhodey's part, they end up pretending to be engaged.

But how much of it is really pretend?

i can’t seem to get a grip, no matter how i live with it: @psikeval

Tony knows he's got no business being a father.

A Million Shades of Blue: @notfknapplicable

“I just know that if I could get to wherever he is, I could find him. Dead or alive, I'd bring him back to us.”

James Rhodes will never stop searching for Tony Stark.

Twenty Five Years: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

Nobody knows how long this has actually been going on. (Tony Stark has pretty much been in a monogamous relationship since he was 18 years old.)

Leave The Light On: @notfknapplicable (part of a series)

He was never doing this for fun. He'd just wanted to stay awake. And whatever you do, please don't tell that guy he's been fucking. He kinda likes him.

coloured in sun: @heleus

The one in which Anthony Edward Stark, having just reached the warm age of seventeen, realizes that he's in love with his best friend.

(The idea is terrifying.)

the planets that bend us: @deathsweetqueen

When Antonia Margaret Stark wakes up on her sixth birthday, it’s to the words: I didn’t get any sleep last night after that fucking lawn mower decided that 7 in the morning would be a perfect time for him to start his day, right outside my room.

She runs a thumb over the long string of words, wrapping around her wrist like a thick leather band.

She smiles.

She’s fourteen when she meets James Rupert Rhodes for the first time.

Written for the "more than a partner" square (S3) for the Tony Stark Bingo 2019 and the "soulmate" square for the Iron Husbands Bingo 2019

we rattle together in a bed of honey: @deathsweetqueen

Toni first met James Rhodes in Cellular Neurophysiology and Computing, when she was fourteen and trying very hard to stay in the shadows. She stumbles into the classroom, clutching her books and binders and pencil case close to her chest, as she stares at everything, wide-eyed and hungry and terrified. She seizes on the contempt, the confusion, the incredulity of the other freshman who look at her like she’s an incongruity – she’s used to that look, all that hate and derision.

She eats it up like chocolate cake.

Much to her luck, all the seats are filled, all except for one towards the middle of the row, a table shared only by a tall, handsome black boy, sleeping on top of the counter.

a winding road that stretches to the truth: @/coulddaughter (this author ostensibly has a tumblr but im unable to locate it -- so if anyone knows what their tumblr is please let me know so i can tag them!)

“Why do you need a date? Also, no offence, but why did you come to me? I stole, like, four of your girlfriends and at least two boyfriends, remember.”

“I do remember that, Tony,” said Jim, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I need you to come on a date with me.”

Love in the Eyes: @child-of-sunshine

The moment each of the Avengers realized Tony and Rhodey were in love.

The Curious Case Of The Discarded Condom: @/AssvengersArsemble

Natasha, Clint and Steve get just a little nosy about Tony's love life. Tony finds it extremely amusing they can't see what's right under their noses.

takes a lot of love and compliance: @gyzym

She's born breech, feet kicking out before the rest of her screams free; she's born breech, and never stops running. (Rule 63!Tony)

Targeted Persuasion: @galwednesday

Jim opened Tony's most formal closet and started pulling out tuxedos. "Put one of these on.”

"Why?"

"We're getting married."

Tony froze. "No, we're not."

"Oh yes we are." Jim tossed three tuxedos onto the bed. Three was a good number of options, enough for Tony to make a choice, but not so many that he'd get lost analyzing the ramifications of navy pinstripes vs. charcoal paisley. Tony did best with clear, specific expectations rather than an unlimited universe of possibilities that he would inevitably filter through his neuroses and obsess over, and Jim was really kicking himself for not considering that, oh, ten years ago when they’d first started this, but there was no point in beating himself up about it now when he could put that energy towards solving the problem instead. "You brought this on yourself, Tones. Pick a damn tux."

Five thousand roses: @/forestgreen

She is broken and all the more dangerous for it. The world should tread carefully around the shards of her former self lest they cut themselves on Antonia Stark's sharp edges.

A Guide to Handling the Unhandleable Tony Stark: @/nightrider101 (this is ab a/b/o verse)

Written for the following prompt on the Avengers Kink meme: The rest of the Avengers assume Tony is an unbound Omega by the way he acts. He's reckless and carefree and does what he wants. Imagine their surprise when they find out that Rhodey is Tony's Alpha. They're all confused at the way Rhodey lets Tony act and how they can be away from each other for long periods of time and Rhodey's just like 'He didn't want to give up his career and I didn't want to give up mine. And I gave up trying to tell Tony what to do years ago.'

It’s Not Bacon Until It Ceases To Be Bacon: @sobebold

Tony has lived with his best friend Rhodey for fifteen years, and everything is perfect.

Until Rhodey finally gets a boyfriend, and Tony's world gets turned upside down.

by any name: @machi-kun

Tony calls him ‘mine’, sometimes.

And he also calls him platypus, honeybear, sugarplum, all those stupid nicknames; but James’ favorite will always be ‘mine’.

Tutor Me: @wisiaden

Tony really wants James Rhodes to be his math tutor. The guy was hot, and if he had to play dumb, well, he can say he hates math.

run and hide: @/starksrhodey

Tony may or may not have a crush on football captain James Rhodes.

Or, Tony is extremely insecure, Pepper knows best, Steve likes to bake, Bucky loves red heads, and Rhodey keeps trying to talk to Tony.

This Is The Real Life: @blancheludis

It takes doing the laundry for Tony to realize he is completely, irrevocably in love with Rhodey. Who knew that the way to Tony Stark's heart is to teach him how to wash his clothes.

Anything For You Darling: @areiton

Tony is sitting on the balcony of his palace in Malibu, and Rhodey hates it, more than he's ever hated anything, watching his best friend stare at the water, limmed by the sun and utterly alone.

"She's dead," Tony says, before Rhodey can ask and he feels his breath catch, his heart stumble.

There's--

Grief. For pretty, troubled Maya with her big eyes.

Heartbreak. For a sweet infant who will never know the mother who gave him up, whose life will never be exposed, now.

Relief. Because Harley is safe. Safe. Gods, he's safe.

Rhodey helps Tony raise his son.

it goes like this (just like heroin): @quandongcrumble

He’s twenty-six and you’re twenty-eight and you get a midnight phone call from Obadiah and between the two of you, you manage to beg and bully until you can fly back to the States and sit beside the white hospital bed while they say words like heroin and accidental overdose and that Tony should pull through but Tiberius might not wake up.

It goes like this—for almost sixteen years Tony’s addiction problems are a blight on Rhodey’s relationship with him. Friendships crack and trust is shattered, over and over again.

motor oil and coconut oil: @/halfasgoodasanything

James loves his best friend. He's entirely supportive of his friendship and his almost relationship with Steve Rogers. He is! He is. Carol and Pepper seem to think otherwise, but he's cool. Loving Tony doesn't mean no one else can. Even if he wanted to.

lost and found: @starkslovemail

“Are you lost?”

Tony jumped at the voice cutting into his thoughts. Turning around, he saw another teen, maybe a year or two older than him, decked out in Team USA gear. He shook his head, flashing what he hoped was a disarming smile, “Nope.”

“Are you sure about that?” The athlete raised a disbelieving brow as he stared down at Tony. “You’ve been walking up and down this hallway for the past ten minutes, and the least embarrassing reason why is being lost.”

The blunt honesty startled a laugh out of Tony. He grinned cheekily, rocking back on his heels, “Guess I’m lost then.”

Written for the RhodeyTony Mini-Bang! Art can be seen on twitter here!

two boy geniuses walk into one frat house: @starkslovemail (part of a series)

There were too many white people at this damn party.

The Other 'Mr Stark': Iron Man’s Mysterious Paramour: @presidentrhodes

Clint leans over to Tony and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re dating Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker.“(Based on this prompt: Tony keeps telling the avengers how awesome his husband is but they don't believe he exists because it has been months and they still haven't met him yet and then finally, Rhodey comes home.)

#adi's rec list #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #james rhodes/tony stark #james rhodes x tony stark #this got long 😳#but all of these fics are so worth it #twenty seven recs #I HOPE YOU ENJOY THEM RHAE

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buckthegrump · 4 years

Text

Wait, What?

The Himbo Chronicles

Summary: Someone has a date.

Word Count: 1569

Warnings: angst, a little bit of fluff maybe, minor stalking

A/n: here ya go

Bucky knocked on Y/n’s door, she barely got the words ‘come in’ out before he walked in.

“Ok, so for dinner tonight I’m thinking we go to dim sum,” he plopped himself on her bed.

“Uhhh -” her voice came from her bathroom.

“What?”

“I actually have a date tonight.”

Bucky froze and stared at the slightly ajar bathroom door. His brain short-circuited for a moment before it rebooted.

“Wait, what?” He asked, sounding maybe a little too shocked.

She walked out of her bathroom looking like hell on wheels, and he lost the ability to make coherent thoughts. Again.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” he finally choked out.

“I mean, this is only date two,” she shrugged as she slipped on her shoes.

“Oh,” he couldn’t stop the disappointment from entering his voice, “Well, be safe.”

“I always am,” she said and walked out of her room leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts.

After about thirty seconds of that bullshit, he left the room.

* * *

Y/n had only been sitting across from Tyler for two minutes before she realized that this guy was batshit crazy. There was an energy to him on this date that hadn’t been there the last time they’d gone out.

It’s like he was waving his red flags around for everyone to see, proud of just how fucked up he was.

A few different scenarios ran through her head, if she did what she really wanted to do and make a break for it, he would definitely stalk her. She could excuse herself to the bathroom but he would notice her take her purse, damn women’s clothing and it’s lack of pockets. Or she could just wait until the end of the night, pay for her own meal and then ghost him.

He began talking about how all his exes were crazy and how someday they would get what was coming to them.

By that time they had been on the date for forty-five minutes and he hadn’t asked her a single question. She hadn’t even been able to get more than five words in. He was being rude to the waitstaff and honestly, she just wanted this all to be over.

Thankfully their server brought over the check quickly. However, it was a single check and the guy took care of it before she had a chance to offer to split it. Something told her that he was going to bring that up later to try and guilt her for owing him something.

They were standing outside the restaurant, he wasn’t even trying to be subtle about wanting to continue the night.

“Well, thank you for dinner,” she nodded at him ready to make her escape.

“Wait,” he said, and despite her brain yelling at her to just walk away, she stopped and turned back to him, “you don’t want to take this back to my place?”

“Oh, sorry,” she wanted to punch herself for apologizing, “I have an early morning tomorrow and should probably getting home.”

“C’mon,” Tyler stepped towards her, “I promise that we’ll have a lot of fun.”

“I really should go,” she said. This time she didn’t wait for a reply as she walked away.

* * *

Her night seemed to be one giant idiot plot that didn’t seem like it planned on stopping. Why had she decided to try and be a decent person by taking the subway to the date instead of a car?

She knew Tyler was following her. It was one of the skills she’d picked up from being an avenger, being able to tell when she was being followed. Not to mention he was doing a terrible job.

But recognizing the problem and dealing with it were two very different issues. She hadn’t felt the need to mention to anyone at the tower that she wasn’t the best fighter. She spent most of the time on the jet or in a hotel room, when would her fighting ability have come up?

So now her only option was to try and shake him and she could do that very well in the subway. Which is how she ended up walking around the streets of New York taking random turns not really paying attention to where she was going.

With no real idea of how long it should take her to shake a tail, she had been walking for an extra thirty minutes before she finally decided to text Bucky.

She didn’t give him any real context, just a corner to meet her at in fifteen minutes and hoped that he would show up. There wasn’t really a doubt in her mind that he would show up, he always did.

The fifteen-minute walk to the street corner she’d text Bucky was the longest of her life.

She was about a block away from where she told Bucky to meet her when he came up beside her.

“What’s up?” He asked.

Instead of answering, she quickly glanced behind them before looking straight ahead again. They made it to the end of the block before Bucky asked again.

“The guy I went on a date with, he’s following me,” she said. She hadn’t let go of his hand realized but he hadn’t given any hint that he wanted it back, and it was making her feel safer than she had a few minutes ago.

“So turn around and kick his ass,” he said sneaking a peek behind them.

“He’s bigger than I am and I -” she cut herself off.

Bucky cleared his throat. “You haven’t learned any self-defense?”

Her silence was, clearly, answer enough for him.

“Jesus, do you want me to die from a heart attack?” He asked.

“Says the person who bought not one but two farm animals and also a farm,” she muttered.

“You’re being stalked and you’re making jokes?”

“Humor is how I deal with shit, Barnes.”

He huffed and pulled her into an alley. He had her stand against the wall of one of the buildings and stood next to her. They were hiding behind a dumpster, not a minute later Tyler stepped into the dimly lit backstreet.

“That’s him,” she whispered to Bucky.

“Y/n, who’s your friend?” Tyler called knowing that they were there.

Bucky rolled his eyes and stepped out of the shadows so Tyler could see him. Tyler opened his mouth, probably to say something stupid, but Bucky’s fist collided with his jaw before he got the chance.

Tyler stumbled to the ground, honestly, Y/n was surprised that he hadn’t been knocked out by the blow. Bucky grabbed Tyler by his collar and lifted him half off the ground so their faces were inches apart.

She walked up behind Bucky just to make sure that no one got murdered.

“You’re going to leave her alone, you go that?” Bucky snarled and Tyler nodded his head pathetically. “And if I ever hear that you are harassing anyone else I won’t be as forgiving as I was this time. Do I make myself clear?”

Tyler nodded again.

Not wanting to stick around, BUcky grabbed Y/n’s hand and led her back to the street. They walked a block or two before he next to one of Tony’s cars. He opened the door for her wordlessly.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t use a helicopter or something,” she muttered as she climbed in the passenger side. Once he was seated he looked over at her.

“I was already in the area,” was all he said before he started driving.

She had about a million questions but he didn’t seem to be in the mood to answer them so she stayed quiet.

He drove through the city, the ambiance of the life that carried on around them was the only thing that kept them from being in complete silence.

It wasn’t until they were on a country road when she spoke again.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked.

Bucky scoffed and shook his head. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“You’re very quiet.”

“Well, not to sound like Edward Cullen but it’s taking a lot of brainpower to not turn around and kill that guy.”

She gave him a look. “You’ve seen twilight? Enough times to quote it?”

“Excuse you?” He gasped. “You say that like you don’t make me watch it with you every time you decide that you’re going to get wine drunk and watch it. I could’ve gone my whole life without watching that fucking movie.”

“Please, you enjoy it!” She yelled with a smile on her face.

“If I enjoyed it that much, I would’ve gone out of my way to watch the other ones,” he rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t made you watch the other ones?” He shook his head and her smile got wider. “Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”

“If anything, I’m teaching you how to defend yourself.”

“Hmm, no I’m pretty sure we’re watching the other four movies of the twilight saga,” she said in a higher-pitched voice.

“The fuck you mean ‘other four movies’?”

“Besides, why would I need to learn to defend myself if you’re here to save me?” She asked. She couldn’t tell if she meant it as a joke or not. But she wasn’t about to dwell on that so she moved on. “Where were you tonight?”

Bucky smirked still staring out the windshield. “Just running some errands.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #the himbo chronicles

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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years

Text

Royal Purple, Moon Silver

pretty short, but i wanted to test out this friendship

Word count: 1873

——————

Ever since the kids came back, Sunday Sessions were a bit…difficult to put on. Most of the queens became busy doing things after shows or in free time with their children, and those who were left didn’t see a point in going when it would only be them and the music director. So the only one who ever showed up was the pianist, and she had to be the one to explain to the fans why there were so many delays. Most of them understood, others didn’t and were angry. She was angry, too. In fact, she found herself getting mad a lot more often ever since the kids waltzed into their lives. It’s like they owned everything now!

“Oh, poor baby,” A voice crooned.

Joan whirled around in her chair as Mary walked over. The ex-princess began to massage her shoulders with her nails dug in, making Joan wince.

“What’s wrong? The loneliness getting to you again?” Mary said in the voice Joan heard Cathy talking to Mae with. Baby talk.

Joan slapped her hands away, but they grappled onto her shoulders and held tightly.

“Don’t hit me, pest,” Mary spat. She cleared her throat quickly and then chuckled when she felt Joan quaking slightly beneath her palms. She sneered. “Shaking already? You truly are pathetic.”

“What do you want now?” Joan growled.

“Oh, nothing,” Mary said. She raised a hand to caress one of Joan’s cheeks. “Just checking on the most worthless person in this building.” Her nails tickled the skin on the girl’s face as she trailed her fingers down to her neck. “Surprised you aren’t hanging, yet.”

“Get the fuck away from me.” Joan seethed, But Mary just cackled her hyena-laugh at her attempts to be fierce.

“Oh, you’re absolutely adorable! Really!” She said. “Perhaps that’s all you have going for you now. Not that anyone sees this little lamb face anymore. Everyone is caught up and me and my siblings. Nobody has time for you anymore.”

Mary stooped down and leaned in close to Joan. Her hot breath tickles the music director’s ear.

“Face it, Joan,” She whispered. “You aren’t wanted.”

“What’s going on?”

Mary and Joan both turned to see Elizabeth and Edward standing in the doorway. Elizabeth stepped in cautiously, eyeing her older sister like a bomb that was about to detonate, then slid her gaze over to Joan. Edward stood by the door, his expression unreadable.

“Something wrong is going on here.” Elizabeth said slowly.

“Yes!” Joan suddenly yelled. She didn’t know where this burst of confidence came from, but it was bubbling up from her throat and spewing from her mouth before she had time to consider her words. “There is, and I can tell you what!” She spun around to Mary, pointing. “Your sister treats me like I’m some kind of alien! Do you know what kind of things she says to me?”

“Joan,” Mary warned. “Hold your tongue.”

“I will not!” Joan cried. She turned back to Elizabeth, eyes pleading. “Please! You have to tell your mums! They’ll never believe me, but if you could vouch for my claim—” She stepped forward and extended her hands to clasp Elizabeth’s, but was instead slapped so hard she fell backwards. Shocked, she froze on the floor, staring up at Elizabeth, who was shaking her hand in the air.

“Ow,” She muttered. “That kinda stung. Yikes.”

Joan’s cheek burned- Elizabeth had no idea how badly her hit really hurt.

“You’ll get used to it,” Mary said, gliding over to her sister’s side.

“Really?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “What, do you get callouses or something?”

“No, you just learn to focus on the pain you inflict than the recoil of the action.”

“Huh.” Elizabeth looked back down at her palm. “Interesting.”

“Y—” Elizabeth and Mary’s heads snap down to the girl on the floor. “You were in on it?”

“In on what?” Elizabeth echoed. “This wasn’t some grand scheme, Joan. It was a little joke. But yes, I was. And it was great! You should have seen your face!”

Joan’s cheeks turned dark red, but the area where she had been struck remained a deep shade of vermillion. She looked past the sisters to Edward, who was shifting on his feet and giving her a pitiful frown.

“But why?” Joan said. “You’re- you’re not like her. You’re good!”

“She’s ‘good’?” Mary chortled. She stalked up to Joan and stomped on her ribs with her boots. “And, what? I’m not?”

“You killed people!” Joan hissed and then keened in pain when Mary’s heel dug against her chest.

“She’s my sister,” Elizabeth interjected. Her voice is gentler than Mary’s, but it’s obvious she was irritated from the glint in her eyes and the way her arms were firmly crossed over her chest. “Of course I’m going to side with her.”

“Side with her on what?!” Joan spluttered. “Her hatred for me? It’s not a fight, it’s just some grudge this sociopath can’t let go of! You don’t have to get involved!”

“Don’t call her a sociopath.” Elizabeth growled, advancing on Joan.

“Well, she is,” Joan said. “And you’re no better by supporting her.”

Mary stomped on Joan’s chest again and this time there was a very distinct crack. Joan yowled loudly.

“Alright!” Edward suddenly spoke up. He hurried away and pushed his sisters away from Joan. “That’s enough!” Then, with a calmer voice, “She’s had enough.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose at her brother. Mary looked annoyed that she didn’t get the chance to pluck out Joan’s broken ribs and string them on a necklace, but she backed off.

“Never did have a taste for this, did you, Edward?” She said.

“Looks like I didn’t inherit that gene from Father.” Edward replied.

“You need-”

“I know, I know,” Edward cut her off, rolling his eyes. “I need to be all tough and big and scary. I’m royalty, I have to put people in their place, I know. But we aren’t nobles anymore. And she’s a pianist, not a masochist.” A small smirk tugged on his lips. “You’d be able to tell when someone is with ease.”

Joan winced and closed her eyes, expecting Mary to crack open Edward’s skull for that jibe, but instead she just clenched her fists, bared her teeth, and glared at her brother.

“Aren’t you sweet,” She crooned venomously. “Protecting the girl who-”

“-killed my mother.” Edward finished, rolling his eyes again. “And I sure appreciate it, because I get to hear it all the time now.”

Joan flinched and Edward flashed her a quick smile to relieve her of any anxieties on that topic. His head turned back to his sisters, a hard expression set on his soft features.

“Maybe Mae will be less of a disappointment.” Mary spat.

“You would try to teach a two year old to be a cunt.” Edward said.

Mary growled and then spun around, marching out of the room. Elizabeth followed her out, but not without a final glance over her shoulder. When they were out of sight, Edward’s shoulders relaxed and his face became a lot less threatening and more like a gentle chipmunk’s.

“They’re going to be so mean to you now.” Joan said, sitting up.

“Oh, no!” Edward gasped. “My sisters? Being mean? I’ve never seen that before! That will be so unexpected and out of character!”

Joan laughed softly, but winced when pain throbbed in the left side of her chest. Her hand flew upwards, tentatively touching the injured area. Edward knelt down next to her.

“Are you alright?” He asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” Joan grunted. “I think. They don’t feel broken. Maybe just cracked.”

“Ouch,” Edward winced. “I’m so sorry about Mary and Elizabeth. You don’t deserve this at all.” He reached a hand out to touch Joan, but pulled back, presumably thinking against it. “They can be real jerks sometimes. Or a lot of times in your case.” He gave her a sad frown.

“Why do they hate me so much?” Joan asked. “Or, why does Mary? Elizabeth just seems to be some kind of pawn. I’ve never done anything to either of them!”

Edward shrugged helplessly. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He said. “Mary has some, uhh...issues. Back then and now. But that doesn’t give her any right to treat you the way she does. Or try to break your ribs!”

Joan smiled slightly. She had never thought she would like any of the kids, especially Jane’s son, but something about Edward gave him a pass. He was different from his sisters, even the annoying toddler.

“You-” She began hesitantly. “You don’t think I killed Jane, right? I-I tried to save her, I really did, but-”

“Hey.” Edward clasped Joan’s hands in his. They were smaller, but warm and loose enough for her to pull away if she wanted to. “Of course I don’t believe that. I know you didn’t. My mum died from poor sanitation, not you cursing her vagina to tear and get infected or something.” He paused for a moment, then laughed. “That was a weird thing to say.”

Joan giggled softly. “Yeah. Kinda.”

“Don’t believe anything my sisters say,” Edward went on. “They like starting stupid stuff.”

“Are you really the only sensible one out of your siblings?”

Edward grinned. “Yup. That also makes me the best.”

Joan smiled back at him. She stood up after Edward released her hands, gritting her teeth through the pain in her ribs, but managing to get on her feet without tipping over. She set one hand on the injured area, massaging it lightly.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Edward asked.

“Probably,” Joan answered. “I’ve handled worse.”

That earned her a curious frown, but Edward doesn’t press the matter. He just twitched his lips a little and then nodded.

They both walked out of the dressing room. Somewhere down the Stairs of Doom, a few of the queens and their daughters could be heard clamoring about, probably getting ready to leave. Edward looked up at Joan with a friendly warmth in his eyes.

“Wanna come over for dinner?”

Joan is both startled and surprised. “Wh-what? A-are you sure?”

“I am!” Edward said. “I like you. You’re much better company than any of my sisters.”

“What about the other queens?”

“Catalina, Anne, and Cathy all have their kids. Cathy is the worst about it, though. She’s ALWAYS with Mae. I can’t remember the last time I saw her alone.” Edward said. “Mum is, well, my mum. I can’t exactly be friends with her. Kitty is...okay. Mum REALLY wants me to like her, but she can be loud and too energetic for me. And Anna is cool, but,” He shrugged. “I like you much better. You’re quiet and smart and funny, but not in a pretentious way.”

Joan blushed shyly and looked away. She couldn’t believe she was letting herself be flattered by a twelve year old. How pathetic could she possibly get?

“Thanks,” She whispered. “I’ve never- I’ve never, umm, been someone’s top choice for a friend before.”

“Then I’ll be the first.” Edward smiled at her. “Come on, let’s go before they leave us here! Oh, and don’t worry, I won’t let my sisters pick on you again.”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six fanfiction #mary i of england #edward vi of england #elizabeth i of england #joan on the keys #six the kids #anti mary tudor

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asnakewithwingsisadragon · 3 years

Text

Updated list of the bitches in this system because Gods know we needed it, go!

• Fae- Actual owner of the body. Has not been fully “themself” since they were like 6 (when Harl got here). Always co-cons with someone because they can’t stand being out alone. Doesn’t know or care what we do with their life. Terrified of people. Has left us alone for extended periods of time. If you think you’ve talked to them, there’s a 99% chance it was actually Claire, Amanda, or Becky. Actually a very sweet kid, but very hurt. Will go to the end of the world for their friends. Can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. Paints themself as a bitch but is a softie. Their mom cannot tell the difference between them and Becky. Diabetic, to Nidia’s displeasure. Closet Gryffindor turned Slytherin in order to survive.

• Amanda – Our system’s “guard dog”/Head Bitch in Charge. Much more complicated than that. The real author of Fae’s thigh scars (barely visible now), and maybe the only reason we made it through high school. The little voice that says “kill everyone and blame it on me”. Zero concern for consequences for herself. Impulse control consists of “Jail is awful and Fae doesn’t deserve it”. She’s over 30.

• Lisbeth (Sally)- Just…Sally. The other voice that wants to kill everyone but doesn’t because she actually thinks about the consequences of her actions. Max is technically her partner, but we don’t talk about that (you can ask). I think she’s 30-something, but might as well be Fae’s age.

• Claire- Possibly Fae’s projection of herself into different universes. She can be 6, 17, 24 and 35. Last name Constantine. From Liverpool. Awful accent. Please don’t call her Australian. Another closet Gryffindor turned Slytherin. Most of Fae’s friends are actually hers. Has been Fae for longer than Fae has been Fae. Likes soccer and we’re sorry. Punk. Hella Punk. Also hella broke.

• Mara- Claire’s sister (maybe twin). Approach with caution. (One of the several sexual alters, can be the same ages as Claire) Responsible for most of Fae’s awful dating decisions.

• Valentina- Rarely comes out, but she’s apparently God? We don’t know. Seems like she knows everyone, though. She always looks 20-something, but we know she’s older.

• Nidia- Claire’s daughter and the pure incarnation of Fae’s ADHD. A Jedi. Weirdest kid EVER. Super compassionate. Wears heart on her sleeve. Can be 5, 9, 16 and 21. Impulse control is 100% artificial, but existent. Can, like Amanda, drink up to 3 cans of Monster Energy Drink in a row without batting a lash. Will eat ALL THE CANDY. The reason we need to carry an extra insulin syringe with us most of the time. Pours fun dip and sweetarts into her drinks. The kind of kid child leashes were invented for.

• Hellena- Mara’s daughter. STAY AWAY. Evil incarnate. Abusive A.F. Can and will destroy you. In her 20’s

• Christine- Hell’s identical twin. Remember that girl in Mean Girls who wants to bake a cake out of sunshine and rainbows and smiles? Christine is that cake. Rarely out. Same age as Hell.

• Evey- Hell and Chris’ big sister. That one kid with the pink hair and lots of tattoos. Zero impulse control. Always looks like a teenager for some reason (not over 25)

• Vlad- Agender/Genderqueer mystical creature of the forest. Valentina’s child. Awesome person in general. Permanently 17.

• Harley- Yup. THAT Harley. You know the drill. She’s actually the one who makes all the fun plans because she’s the one who has the energy for it. Gets along with everyone until she doesn’t. Can drink us all under the table. Can drink you under the table. Has been Fae for longer than Claire has been Fae. Was the first one here, so she has tattoo privileges. And dating privileges. And everything privileges, basically. If I say how old she is, I may not live to see another day. Fae’s real mum. Will take you to Petco on exam week to pet puppies. Will yell “doge!” out loud.

Pets every dog. Will steal Teddy from Max.

• Edward- Mr. Nigma, sir. Somehow has better makeup skills than all the girls here combined. If his attitude was as nice as his eyebrows, he’d rule the world by now. EVERYTHING HAS QUESTION MARKS. Knows more than anyone. Is actually a genius. Wastes his time trying to school the little ones (and trying to get Naya to use proper words). Smug bastard. Probs 40-something.

• Cass- Also from comics. EVERYTHING IS YELLOW (yiyo). Doesn’t talk much, but is always fun to have around. Will make you watch animated movies and take you to Starbucks. Will also make you work out. Can be 5, 9, 18 and 25. Smol Cass is a fan of pokemon. If it’s yellow, it belongs to her.

• Naya- Cass’ child. Has her own language, featuring words like “kaijukata”, “pakato”, and “omashii” (“Kaiju attack”, an insult of her own invention, and her word for “mother”.) There are no sidewalks, only pedestrian lanes. Biggest Kaiju Enthusiast. Wants to be Mako Mori.

• M.J.- Has been here for as long as Harley has. Isn’t around as much. The difference between her and Claire is that you can actually understand what MJ says when she gets mad. Probs 25 forever.

• Danni- Amanda’s daughter. Will also fuck you up. Has the weirdest kinks. 23

• Miranda- Danni’s daughter. Don’t ask. Also a sexual alter. 21

• Martha- Miranda’s sister. Level-headed. A psychiatrist. 21. Actually the most mature person in this head, along with Tári.

• Alice- Nidia’s daughter. Also a psychiatrist. Likes psychoanalyzing people. Type 1 bipolar. Thinks all Arkham inmates are humans and wants to help. Will probably end up as an Arkham Inmate herself. Age slides. Toddler Alice is the devil. Can be 5, 9, and 21

• Alyssa- Mara’s best friend. Take Alice out of wonderland and teach her ballet, then add a sprinkle of Luna Lovegood. Permanently 17-ish.

• Robin- Alice’s little sister. Wants to be Carrie Kelly when she grows up. Terrified of squirrels. Can be 5 and 18. Lesbiab. Lesebeb. Girls. Yes.

• Tári- Alice and Robin’s eldest sister. Autistic. Genius extraordinaire. Loves to talk to Eddie. Often one of them leaves the conversation feeling stupid (it isn’t Tári). Loves Legos. REALLY LOVES LEGOS. Forensic Anthropologist/ wants to be Bones when she grows up. Vegetarian. Can be 12/17/21.

• Frances- Harley’s kid. Don’t ask, this was super weird. Frances herself is super weird. She hears voices. The voices tell her to do things. She rarely listens. Actually super polite. Has “opal” hair. 18-20. We don’t really know. If we’re gonna have a sub-system, it will probably be because of Frankie.

• Shilo- Shilo Wallace. Infected by her genetics. Her nightmares are the worst. Once made Amanda and Sally fight over a pair of combat boots just so she could get to keep them. Probably Becky’s best friend in here.

• Bellatrix- That one got here on her own. Over 50. Still looks great.

• Azula- also got here on her own.

• Cassiopeia- Bella’s biggest mistake. Best teacher ever. Resident hipster chick. Is actually here to keep a little group of alters from causing too much mayhem. 28.

• Ascella- Lesbian extraordinaire. Sees dead people. I’m not even kidding. Permanently 23.

• Jamie Moriarty- Another one who got here on her own. Our self confidence boosts and power trips. Will maybe kill someone. Better than you and is not afraid to let you know. Fae’s teachers were terrified of her.

Everyone’s terrified of her; I don’t know who we think we’re kidding. 32.

• Lestat- Fae’s gay vampire boyfriend. Is rarely around anymore. Probably for the best. 260-ish years old. Prick.

• Lindsay - THE definitive Sexual alter. From a comic book oneshot. Amanda on steroids, but if Amanda knew how to socialize. Loves horror, movies, photography and monsters. 26.

• Becky - Called “morbid” for a reason. Disabled as all fuck. Autistic/ADHD, connective tissue disorder. A lawyer. Loves to argue. Jon Crane’s wife (at least here). 30ish. Always cold and always in pain. If we cancel plans, it’s most likely her fault and she’s sorry.

• Liliana - Necromancer. Big Titty Goth GF. We love and cherish her, alcoholism and all. Will never be over Jace and she knows it.

• Chandra - Pyromancer extraordinaire with severe ADHD. A lot like Fae in a lot of ways. Decidedly Pansexual, thank you very much. 25.

• Vraska - Ravnican to the core, but also a fantastic pirate. Great leader, good friend, fun to be around. Has the huskiest voice in the system. Has the worst flashbacks out of all of us. Can be 19 and 29. • Kari - Vraska and Jace’s kid. Hypermelanistic gorgon, telepath like her dad. Fun to be around. Can be 7, 12 and 25.

• Ral - Very very Izzet, and very very gay, and we love him for it. Very intelligent, good at fixing and making things with his hands. Confident, charismatic, and a workaholic. Tomik’s husband. Sometimes with Max. In his 40’s

• Tomik - Ral’s husband. Quiet, but very caring and polite.Also very smart and hard-working, always loves to learn new things and meet new people. 27-ish. Very gay, too. Makeup skills up there with Eddie’s.

• Teysa - Tomik’s boss. A Boss Ass Rich Bitch, and we love her lots for it. Very polite and interesting to be around. Could buy us all and our families ten times. Old, but looks to be in her early 30’s.

• Avacyn - An angel from Innistrad. Here to protect us. Really likes listening to old pop-punk and emo music with Max. Very sweet to be around, although she can be a little literal-minded.

• Olivia - A Vampire and a bitch. Liliana’s...ex? Something. A lot like Teysa, but much more fun-loving and impulsive.

• Nahiri - Doesn’t come out much. Stern but caring, very savvy, doesn’t take anyone’s crap. Can hold on to grudges like her life depends on it.

#alterblogging #I'm probably missing people but oh well #here's the main ones #yes there's a lot of MTG peeps here #they're recent #we love them

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multifandomfanficss · 4 years

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A Summer Job in Gotham

Prompt: The OC is Jim’s cousin and she starts her summer job filing papers at the police station. She meets a couple familiar faces along the way.

WARNGINGS: Abusive Father

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You're so stupid!" I wake up to hear my father screaming at my mother. Another morning I wake before my alarm to the sound of my parents fighting. Actually, it's more like my dad fighting and my mom listening. This isn't the first time and I know it won't be the last. I get out of bed and run straight for the bathroom, turning on the shower and slipping out of my clothes. I step into the hot water and close my eyes, taking in the nice feeling. I spend a couple minutes just enjoying the feeling before I begin to wash my body and eventually my light brown hair. After washing a turn off the water and step out of the shower. I wrap a towel around me and go to pick out my clothes. I just grab a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. Keep your outfit simple and you won't be noticed. I wait for my dad to leave the house for work and then I go downstairs to get some breakfast. I grab some bread and quickly start to butter it, until I see my mother trying to choke back tears. I hug her. "You really shouldn't let him treat you like that." I tell her. "It's okay, Andi" she tells me. "It's not okay, mom! You need to stand up to that asshole." I inform her. "Andrea Lee Clark! Watch your language!" She exclaims. "I'm sorry mom, but it's true." I respond. "Please don't forget to talk to your cousin about that summer job after school." She reminds me. "I won't." I promise. I kiss her, grab my breakfast, and rush out the door to the bus. I hop on the bus and take the first available seat I see. I look out my window, watching all of the miserable people doing their daily business on the streets of Gotham. I see both the poor, living in pain, and the filthy rich, not giving a damn. It's disgusting how nobody seems to care. We go through our lives putting one thing first and one thing only. Ourselves. When we put others first it's only because WE feel pain. Not the other way around.

The hours tick by as sit in my full school. I just want it next week. The last day of my senior year can't come any faster. The last bell rings and I rush out of class, practically run down to my locker. I can't be late to meet my cousin at the precinct. I stuff the homework into my bag and throw my science text book into my locker. I then throw my backpack over my shoulders and close my locker door. I exit the school and begin my short walk to the police station.

When I arrive the whole place is buzzing with action. I look around for my cousin. An officer approaches me. "May I help you, miss?" She asks. "Yes, do you know where I can find Jim Gordon?" I ask. "Right this way." The woman offers a smile as she walks me to his desk. "You can wait here. He should be back any moment." She informs me. I thank her and she disappears to do her job. I take a seat in his chair and open the file in front of me. It is full of pictures and statements from people from the circus. I look at the outside of the folder again and read aloud the title. "Jerome Valeska." I say quietly. "Interesting, right?" I hear a voice come from behind me. It makes me jump. I turn around to see my cousin. "Hey, Jim. You scared me." I say giving a smile. "Hey, Andi. Glad you're already looking at the Jerome files. I need you to go through and find every other file we have on him." Jim informs me. "I didn't even do a job interview yet." I say laughing. "We're short staffed and could really use somebody as quickly as possible. A woman named Kristen Kringle will train you." He responds. "You'll just being doing filing and stuff like that." He adds. "Okay. Also, why do you need the Jerome files?" I ask. "We need to copy them and bring them down to Arkham." He answers. "Come on, I'll show you around." He offers. He leaves his desk and I follow.

Jim shows me around the precinct. He ends to tour at my office. We walk in to see a pretty woman in a cute outfit with a pair of glasses. She has her brown hair tied up and she is surrounded by officers who are trying to flirt with her. It's actually less of a flirt and more of a sexual harassment. "Don't you think you men should be getting back to work?" Jim interrupts them. They all awkwardly leave the room and Kristen appears to look more relaxed. "Hello, Detective Gordon." Kristen speaks. "Hi, Kristen. This is Andrea-" He begins. "Andi." I interrupt. "You're going to be training her." He finishes. "Okay. Nice to meet you, Andi." She greets me. "Her first assignment is to find all the files relating to Jerome Valeska. Do you think you can help her out?" He asks. "Sure thing, Detective Gordon." She responds with a smile. "Well, I guess I'll leave you girls to it. Andi, you know where my desk is. Bring me the files when you're done." He says. "Good luck." He adds before exiting the room.

Kristen and I mostly make awkward small talk as she teaches me to learn my way around the files. I mostly don't pay attention to her. I enjoy spending my time reading through the rest of the files on Jerome Valeska and the circus. The room has a boring feel to it until I hear a knock on the door. I look up to see a tall man with dark brown hair and big black glasses. He fiddles nervously with the file he's holding "Ms. Kringle, I have a file for you." He says excitedly. "Thank you, Mr. Nygma." She responds. He glows at the sound of his name coming from her lips. "Edward Nygma." He says putting a hand out to greet me. "Andi Clark." I say shaking his hand. "So, Ms. Kringle... What is harder to catch the faster you run?" He asks. "I don't know." She responds. "Your breath." He says pleased with himself. I begin to laugh and he smiles at me. "Mr. Nygma, would you please do me a favor?" Krista asks. "Anything!" He responds in excitement. "Would you please give me some time to work with Ms. Clark? I was told that I have to train her." She informs him. "Of course, Ms. Kringle. It was nice to meet you, Ms. Clark." He says as he exits the room. "Nice to meet you too Mr. Nygma." I say as he walks out the door. "Thank God he's gone." Krista says quietly. "Why? What's wrong with him?" I ask, displeased. "He's just creepy." She responds. "And his riddles drive me crazy? How am I supposed to know the answers?" She asks. "Just give him a chance. He seems sweet and to be fair his riddles are pretty good." I say with a laugh. "Well then you like him so much, you date him!" She says a little angry. "He's way too old for me and he's not really my type anyway." I tell her truthfully. "Why don't you date him?" I add. "He's too nice. I don't deserve a nice guy like that." She begins. "And to be completely honest he's a little boring for my taste." She says the last part a little quieter. "Whatever. I'm sure whoever he ends up with will be a very lucky lady." I say finishing off the conversation and getting back to work.

As soon as I finish finding all of the files and learn my job along the way, I pile them in my arms and carry them to Jim's desk. Normally cases don't have this many files, but the collected statements from every person in the circus, as well as some of the audience. That's more witnesses than usual. I approach Jim's desk and place the files on top neatly. "Ready to go?" He asks. "Go where?" I respond. "To Arkham. We gotta drop off the files." He says in a matter-of-fact sort of way. "Alright. I'll grab my jacket!" I say practically running back to my desk in excitement. I have a pretty good feeling that this isn't a normal thing so I can't pass up an opportunity like this. I grab my jacket and quickly walk back to meet Jim. Then we hop into his car and drive off to Arkham Asylum.

"A few rules before we go in." Jim begins to speak as we approach the gates of Arkham. I nod. "Don't make eye contact and don't speak to them." He orders me. "Yes, sir." I say with a laugh. We stop at the gates and a security guard opens them for us. We park his car and enter the large building. On our way to the office we pass what appears to be like some sort of cafeteria. There are many people locked in the room doing various activities. Some are speaking to each other and others are keeping to themselves. I scan the room and that's when I lay my eyes upon him. The reason I'm here. Jerome Valeska. His hair is slightly messy, but still looks good and his smile is large. He laughs like a mad man, which makes sense because that's what he is. A crazy, barbaric madman who killed his mother. Then he turns his head. His eyes lock with mine and the corners of his mouth turn up into a large grin. He approaches the metal fence between us and wraps his fingers through the holes. "Hello, Gorgeous." He says to me. I refrain from speaking, but I can't look away from him. Jerome looks down to my hands to see the files and then looks back up to my face. "Are you here just for me, doll face?" He asks with confidence. I just keep my mouth shut as instructed by Jim. "Surely a lady this beautiful would have a loud mind. Why don't you let some of those voices in your head out to play? Speak to me." He orders. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Jim standing behind me. "Let's go." He says quietly as he pulls me away from the red headed maniac.

#jerome velaska #jerome valeska #ed nygma #edward nygma #the riddler #the joker #gotham x oc #gotham #jim gordon #gotham oneshot #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction #gotham fanfic

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emmaofnormandy · 4 years

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~Winds of the North: when Queen Anne Neville meets Lady Sansa~

The year was set in someday close to the winter of 1484. The queen was ill and she was more than aware of the whispers that circulated court by then. The thought of it could not slip out of her mind even if she wanted to: through the looking glass she watched her beautiful and joyful niece, Lady Elizabeth, brush over her auburn locks patiently.

Anne admittedly resented the youth that releted her body, giving space to a mortality she did not expect to feel so soon. Right before her there was someone who could replace her on the throne if rumours were taken to be true. She watched the precision with which the golden locks of Elyzabeth Plantagenet were tied accordingly the recent fashion which was imported from Bugundy (Anne was also aware how Italian States were responsible for this new way of braiding hair), a pair of esmerald earrings garnishing her pale skin, matching the necklace of same jewel in the younger woman’s neck. Elizabeth’s oval face reminded Anne of her father, Anne’s cousin and late king, Edward the fourth.She could tell there was no trace of illegitimacy in the princess’ features and the close resemblance was ever so present that turned difficult for her to look at the woman who was supposed to be queen and not her lady-in-waiting.

“Do you appreciate this, lady Elyzabeth?” Anne inquired, all of the suddenly. They were in the queen’s personal chambers and as the day was one very invitive to those who appreciated the outdoors, she dismissed the others who were meant to stay there, but only her niece refused it and gladly stayed by her side.

Elyzabeth rose those piece grey eyes that reminded Anne of storm seas, and the queen could not help wonder if there was ever one beneath the quiet personality of that young woman. In fact, considering all the recent events, Anne was rather surprised for seeing such resilience in the girl’s presence. She’s far stronger than I’d ever be.

“Pardon, Your Grace?” Oh, she did not understand.

With tiring eyes, Anne fixed the gaze upon the reflection of her niece on the mirror. Lady Elyzabeth’s clothing shared the same material the one on the queen’s body, they were even of the same colour. Blue.

“People talk.” She sighed and saw the alert behind her niece’s eyes. “I know it, Elyzabeth.”

“I vow it to your ladyship that I have...” Elyzabeth panicked... to the queen’s relief.

“I know.” But even though I did know, I had to be sure. “It’s difficult to be at the centre of a place where people whisper behind your back and long for your death. I lived a difficult life, I suppose the end should have not been any easier.”

“Your Grace!” Elyzabeth protested, but the protest would not last longer as a knock on the door interrupted the small thread between the noble ladies.

Anne, with the dignity that left of her, dismissed her niece’s services with a wave of hand and rose. She looked at herself through the looking glass and saw the blue velvet gown falling over her curves, the silk touching her skin, even though it felt as if it touched her bones. She felt exposed, but she had to be strong.

Her auburn hair shone long, dropping loose behind her back. If only she could let it that way...! But Anne had her pride in her doings and so she tied it herself, following the new costumes. In the back of her mind, the flashback of her youth reminding her of her strenght: even now, she could hear Queen Marguerite’s snorts due to her fear of the sea. The teachings of the French red rose could not be swept away even now.

“See the wheel of fortune, madame Anne?” Marguerite d’Anjou spoke in the queen’s memories. “One day it might take you so high there’ll be no time to enjoy the view for in the next moment, it will take you just as low.”

Even now, Anne Neville remembered Marguerite d’Anjou’s smirk.

“What’s with that face, lass? There is no time to mourn for the past. You are your father’s daughter. Act like it. In this world we live in, dominated by men who know nothing but power and will not rest easy until they have it for themselves, there is no space for naivety or sweetness. You be that and the wolves will eat you.”

“Please come inside.” Anne recovered her voice. It was Cecily Plantagenet, lady Elyzabeth’s sister. The Queen smiled to the younger woman, so vivid like her father and beautiful like her mother. The Plantagenet temper is very evident in this one. “Greetings well beloved, I trust you are well?”

Cecily had the same shades of blonde hair that her sister did, but her face was softened and her eyes, blue also, was so full of life. She was a natural charmer and, like their father, this one was fond of talking, gossip and flirting. Nonetheless, she respected the king and the queen’s authority and Queen Anne appreciated that.

“You do, Your Grace, thank you.” She curtsied. “I bring you delightful news from His Grace, the king. We ought to receive an important guest at your court! It appears that an old ally of your lord husband named Petyr Baelish is scorting a northern lady of a noble house of Westeros. Her name is Sansa Stark, and she is coming to stay.”

Queen Anne blinked, but suddenly these news were giving a new blow of life. Lady Cecily slowed down, once excitement gave space to be reasonable in speaking.

“Westeros is in Civil War, Your Grace. Although the Queen Regent is in friendly terms with your sire husband, the king, there lies suspicious of her intentions towards our house. The Starks, however, were once aided by King Richard, as I was once told, so their king in the north, Robb Stark, is sending his sister over here until the situation is resolved. It seems that a man to them known, this who is named Petyr Baelish, is the responsible for taking the poor lady out of that court of wolves.”

The familiarity was too much for the Queen to bear. Exile, civil war... wounds the time did not seem to heal. They bleeded continuously and the Queen feared for herself. How long before this ends? How long before I can leave all of this suffering behind?

She remembered the tensions, the fear in her mother’s eyes, the bravery in Isabel’s... The fierce in her father, once the glorious kingmaker became the traitor. These days, however, few would remember him even if his daughter was on the throne. However, there was no point in dwelling over the past, even her former mother by law, the red queen, would say so. Therefore she glanced upon Cecily and smiled a convincing smile.

For lately, I scarely found a reason to live anymore.

“Of course”. The Queen nodded her head. “When will she arrive?”

“She has already sailed in Devon”, lady Cecily gladly informed. “So she is expected to arrive in a day or two.”

The Queen could behold in the back of her mind the shadow of anxiety in Richard’s features. A man as himself is not one prompted to festivities, the display of vanity; on that aspect, he was much more comfortable amongst the men on battle. Anne, on the other hand, was the perfect hostess. She was a survivor herself, and lived in three different courts, dancing accordingly each song. She knew well what her husband would tell her this late evening and a smile graced her lips.

This part he knows I’ll play perfectly well.

This somehow brought new sense of duty to the queen, who instantly was seen as if live was instantly gained. When the king came to visit her that afternoon, he was surprised to see how... alive she looked to be.

“I do not expect you to settle easily at the thought of me dead.” Her voice is sweet, but her words were not. Richard looked hurt. At least he bears some sense in appearing so.

“To arm yourself by sharpening your tongue is unlike yourself.” And wasn’t he perceptive enough? “I pray you tell me you have not been giving ears to those poisonous beings who do nothing but to whisper ill of ourselves?”

He looks displeased and I, ashamed.

“My dearest loving wife”, he took Anne’s face by his hands and for a moment that is what they were: man and wife, with no titles to weigh upon their shoulders. “After all I’ve been through at your side, may this not be broken by people’s foolishness.”

And so she wept. Richard sighed, but unlike any other husband in his position, would not tear her away from him.

“I’m sorry. This is all too much to bear.” He relented. “Nonetheless, do not push me away. You are too kind to this world”.

Anne blinked away the memories of the past, but she could still hear the red queen’s voice.

“What happens now?” She inquired, and felt stupid by opening her mouth when she met the red queen’s fierce gaze. Marguerite d’Anjou was beautiful, but cold and, some might say, evil. Her red locks were braided and there was no sympathy upon her face. Those blue eyes more looked like the warning of storm, than welcoming sea.

“War is not for sweet creatures as yourself”, it was the retort she heard. “You either endure and learn or fall to be misguided.”

“I would not like that, Your Grace”. Even then, her voice sounded cheap and...stupid...for her ears. But she was frightened, and the queen saw it.

“Do you think I would? I lost a husband who loved me, who cherished me the world.” She said bitterly. “My only sin was to be born a french and his, to be uncapable of rulling with a strong will. One day, you will have to do that for yourself at my sons’s side. Otherwise, they will break you and a victim you shall be.”

“There is no space for love in wars”, she comprehended then.

The queen’s cold laughter was a sound difficult to hear. A loved woman, brokenhearted by life... the wheel of fortune was cruel.

“There could always be”, the red queen pondered, casting a meaningless glance to her new daughter by law, “if you know how to play the game, if you know how to survive.”

As Queen Anne embraced her king, she was ever certain and reassured that, whatever were the thoughts regarding Richard’s actions as the new Yorkist monarch of England, she survived. A survivor she was and would ever be one.

There /is/ space for love in the midst of wars after all, she contemplated. I won the game of thrones. I’m standing here and Richard holds my love and support as I hold his.

It was all the matter to remember Anne Neville that she was still alive.

* * *

The redhaired younger woman with porcelain skin and blue eyes finally arrived at this new court, prompted to receive her into their arms. For a long while, throughout this journey, Sansa became Alayne, but now she was safe enough to become herself again.

She was careful, of course. She learned enough from Petyr ever the days spent in the Vale. At times, Sansa would even miss it. But enough was enough and there were little space other than to think of her survival. Nonetheless... she remembered. The sparks of civil war that led to Joffrey’s death, a failed attemptive on the part of prince Oberyn to avenge the murder of his sister, than there was her brother hoping to save her but dying in the midst of the red wedding.... Such were the events that gave her little peace, if not none, in her sleep.

For a moment, she was distracted as her carriage finally arrives in London. The capital of this new, different kingdom under whose ruler she was expected to be protected. She was not entirely certain about that, a bad feeling daunting her, but Sansa knew better than that.She rose her head high and it was finally time to behave like the lady her mother raised to be.

So there was Sansa Stark, dressed in white-and-green silk with long sleeves according the Westerosi fashion. Her long red locks were braided perfectly and suddenly, as the court welcomed her, the northern lady felt the eyes over her. There was little space to think or far less to capture the details of this new land which it was expected to be her temporary home for the queen, richly dressed in white and purple, came to greet her personally.

“Welcome to St James Palace, Lady Sansa. I’m Queen Anne. My husband, King Richard, awaits indoors.”

Sansa found herself shy at first, but gladly took the companionship of Queen Anne of England. For a moment, it was as if she was regained contact with her former self, the dreamer and silly one whose mind was filled with hopes of marrying for love and being acquainted with knights and bards.

As for the queen of England, she saw in Sansa the young girl whom she used to be, merry of soul and full of dreams of a happy and stable life. The two took immediately liking for each other and King Richard’s court proved a delight to Sansa.

“Do you dance, Your Grace?” lady Sansa inquired after they all feasted and chatted as if there were no threats of rebellions outside, there were no quarellings to dwell upon. It was a merry scenario, one of the kind that pleased King Richard very much when seeing the best effect it had not only to his wife but also to this protegée of his.

“I used to, but...” Queen Anne hesitated. For the last days, she felt alive again and even more so now that Lady Stark was there at court, but could she risk her health? She quickly glanced at her husband, which did not go unnoticed by Sansa, who feared to have disapproved them both but one nod of Richard and Anne promptly accepted the girl’s invitation.

It all went well for these akin souls. Anne revived and Sansa found comfort again. This blissful scenario occurred for days, weeks, before they turned to months. Sansa reminded Anne of the innocence left behind and the queen taught her protegée how shield herself and sharp her mind before the cruelties of the world.

“You will see there is space for love in the midst of war”, said Anne. “But you must be prepared to fight for it and defend it with all that you have.”

Sansa pondered her words. “Is it possible?”

“Aye. I married the king, haven’t I?” She smiled and the redheaded northern girl aquiesced.

Even when the winter came, Sansa was provided for. She would miss Anne terribly, as were the Queen to miss her company. But in the end, Anne had peace even if at the cust of her life. She filled with her mission and such was the great lesson that Sansa Stark finally learned...

#Sansa Stark #Anne Neville #Sansa StarkxAnneNeville #House Stark #Plantagenet Dynasty #Plantagenet #CrossOver #game of thrones #margaret of anjou #alternative universe #Richard III

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