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aemonds-sapphire · 1 year

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Unnoticed

Summary: Aemond fucks you a little too hard… and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Comic relief. Aemond being Aemond. Aegon being Aegon and having a deathwish.

Word count: 1k

“We ought to be on our way.”

You glanced lovingly at your husband who had been fixing his hair and attire, expertly getting rid of every and any proof of his earlier endeavour with you.

“Must we go?”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “We must.”

Ever dutiful.

Sighing heavily, you threw your legs over the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling a faint sting in your inner thigh as cramps spread throughout your legs.

You took a mental note to never let Aemond fuck you ever again before a royal feast.

He came to stand before you, extending his hand with a devious smile tugging at his lips. “Shall we, lady wife?”

The discomfort only increased as you reading yourself to stand on your feet.

“Aemond…”

He eyed you intensely, taking a hold of your arm as you slumped against the mattress. “Are you well?”

“I think I’ve strained something…”

You rubbed at your inner thigh before realising the pain extended to your groin as well.

Aemond crouched at your feet, his eye widening slightly. “Was it my doing?”

Ah. The male ego.

“I suppose,” you nearly chuckled. “You might have overdone it this time, lord husband.”

He placed both hands on your thighs. “I would usually apologise, but considering the circumstances, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

You huffed in forced annoyance as he planted a kiss atop your knee through your dress.

“Should I kiss it better?”

Tempting, but time was of the essence.

“Help me up,” you said, brushing a stray strand of silver hair behind his ear.

Aemond rose to his feet and grabbed both your arms. With little to no effort, he brought you up to stand in front of him.

A jab of soreness dug into your muscles and you couldn’t hold back a hiss.

Your husband planted a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Should I carry you?”

You glanced back at him only to find a playful smile on his face. “Aemond Targaryen, you will do no such thing. Just help me get to the dining hall.”

Aemond wrapped one arm around your waist. “Are you certain?”

You offered him a weak smile. “I’m sure it will pass.”

It did not pass.

In fact, you could feel the throb intensifying with each step along the loomy halls of the Red Keep. Aemond made sure you were close enough so he could check on you periodically. Your sudden ailment turned the heads of many Kingsguard that would occasionally offer help.

Aemond would have none of it, of course. He’d sooner have you use him as clutch.

Which was precisely what you were doing.

“We will never try that position ever again,” you hissed through gritted teeth, clasping his arm with increased strength.

He patted your hand softly. “If memory serves me right, you were the one who suggested it.”

Infuriating.

“Be it as it may…”

Your voice died in your throat as the two of you approached the large dining hall, the sound of cheerful music and indistinguishable voices filling your ears.

Even though you struggled down the stairs, you put on a wide smile in the hopes it would be enough to hide the discomfort.

“You are going to scare someone off,” Aemond whispered in your ear teasingly.

Your smile promptly dropped and you cleared your throat. “This is all your fault.”

He didn’t contest your accusation.

“If I stand here without moving, no one will notice.”

“Yes, I am sure that will not raise suspicions when the time comes to sit at the table, lady wife,” he said, sarcasm laced with amusement dripping from his voice.

A servant came before you, holding a platter with several cups of wine. “May I tempt you, my prince? My lady?”

You immediately snatched one in your hand, knowing that alcohol might ease the throbbing in your inner thigh.

Desperate for some relief, you downed most of the liquid, earning a surprised look from Aemond. “You’d do well to go easy on that. We do not need a second Aegon amongst us.”

You blinked at him. “This is all your fault.”

“I heard you the first time,” he nodded, lips curling upwards.

People from all over the Seven Kingdoms swarmed the large hall, making it nearly impossible to walk through without bumping into a few guests.

Your limping might have gone unnoticed by those around you, but the sudden wave of relief was cut short when you spotted Aegon heading your way.

“Brother!”

He had definitely emptied a fair share of cups of wine already. You gathered it from all over-the-top excitement and overjoy from spotting his younger brother.

“Why are you walking like that?” he then nudged you in the side playfully.

“Sword practice yesterday,” Aemond said immediately.

“I tripped on my way here,” you blurted out simultaneously, earning a stare from Aegon.

His eyes hopped from you to Aemond in silence and you then saw a knowing smile appear on his lips.

“I see,” Aegon lifted his cup, drinking the liquid inside all at once. “Didn’t know you had it in you, little brother.”

Aemond shot him a death glare. “Whatever that means.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and chuckled, his breath reeking of wine. “Please… sword practice…” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You felt Aemond tense under your touch. “Must you be so vulgar?”

“I am sure my sister-in-law agrees with me,” he said with a shrug, before stealing another cup from a passing servant. “How’s my brother’s sword?”

You choked on your own saliva and Aegon quickly passed you his own cup of wine.

“Aegon,” Aemond said as a warning, taking a few steps towards him.

After a few hasty gulps, you were able to breathe once more. “Let’s go, Aemond…”

Your husband took the cup from your hand and shoved it into his brother’s chest until he grabbed it.

Their relationship was rocky to say the least. Aemond extended the bare minimum amount of respect as he possibly could to Aegon.

Aegon frowned. “You’re so frigid, little brother.”

His voice faded away as Aemond walked you through a few guests, greeting the ones you knew and smiling at the ones you didn’t.

Soon after, you walked right into Queen Alicent “Oh, dear… why are you limping?” her voice was filled with worry as her features twisted in concern as she took you in her arms, her warmth filling your entire body.

“Sword practice yesterday,” you said with a forced smile.

“She tripped on her way here,” Aemond said.

She looked taken aback for a moment. “What?”

Great.

You were about to change the topic when you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder.

Aegon.

“Seems like Aemond went too hard on her with his sword, mother.”

You watched as Aemond’s lips pursed into a thin line. If looks could kill, you were dead sure Aegon Targaryen would get buried several feet beneath the Red Keep in an instant.

“Aemond!” Alicent gasped, cluthing her pearl necklace. “I warned you not to do so.”

A pang of cold sweat ran through you as your heart dropped to your stomach. Had she caught on to Aegon’s innuendo?

Alicent wrapped one arm around you protectively. “You are a seasoned swordsman, but she isn’t. You must not be so demanding.”

“Of course, mother.”

Your heart soared once again with relief and you sank into Alicent’s embrace.

“I reckon she is getting the hang of it,” Aegon grinned, taking another sip from his cup. “Wouldn’t you agree, brother?”

“I reckon you should keep your mouth shut, brother,” Aemond said abruptly.

“Honestly, Aegon, do tear yourself from that cup of wine,” she scolded in a low voice before turning to you. “Should I fetch a maester?”

“Oh! No, no,” you quickly said, forcing yet another smile. “I’m already feeling much better, thank you, your grace.”

You were wholeheartedly grateful for Alicent’s caring and nurturing nature and, truth be told, you did feel some of the throbbing pain ease.

Aemond came to join your side once again, pushing Aegon’s hand off your shoulder.

Otto Hightower appeared out of nowhere, jolting you as he towered over you. He offered a curt smile and nod before bending to whisper something in his daughter’s ear.

Alicent’s face deepened with worry once again. “Should I go and be by his side?”

Otto shook his head. “No need. He just needs some rest.”

The effect those words had on the two siblings was immediate: Aegon’s face dropped into a faint frown as he exchanged glances with Aemond.

Her body was suddenly tense against yours, but she merely nodded. The king’s health had been declining rapidly, causing him to miss out of most of the events he’d once took joy in organising.

“Are you well, my dear?” Otto was back to his usual pleasing demeanour as he looked at you.

You nodded sweetly, but Aegon was apparently bent on antagonising you. “Aemond hurt her with his sword.”

The older man arched an eyebrow at your husband. How come?”

You could tell Aemond was close to lunging at his brother and mustered all of his will-power to prevent that from happening.

“It’s nothing. It happens,” you chuckled through the tension that had settled.

“We should get her a maester,” Alicent said, her eyes roaming across the vast hall.

“Lighten up, brother,” Aegon cheered with another sip as Aemond’s face twisted into a menacing scowl. “We are merely concerned for your wife.”

Otto brought his hands up into a series of small claps of approval. “Good, good. Family stands together.”

You wished you could vanish into a hole in the ground and disappear, but before you could entertain that idea, Grand Maester Maester was spotted in the crowd and Aegon rushed to summon him.

By the time the old man managed to join your side, you immediately regretted ever joining your husband in this feast.

“Please… there is no need for this,” you said as you began to panic.

“Aemond hurt her with his sword…” Aegon feigned concern before wiggling his eyebrows.

Maester Mellos was perceptive enough to gather the implication in his words, promptly clearing his throat.

Alicent came to that same realisation next as she sighed heavily, glaring disapprovingly at Aegon. “Oh… you imbecile…”

You felt heat take over your body from the embarrassed.

And in no time, Aemond was on Aegon, gripping the back of his neck with bone-cracking force and hissing at him. “I’ve had enough of you.”

“Let go of me!” he tried to jerk away, but Aemond’s grip didn’t ease.

“Stop it. Both of you,” came Otto’s authoritarian voice, effectively tearing both siblings away from each other.

Maester Mellos seemed suddenly out of place as he approached you. “If there is anything I can do to help, let me know, my lady. I have some oils that… are quite effective… in…” he fell silent, avoiding Queen Alicent and Otto’s inquisitive stare.

Aemond took you in his arm once more as you growled at him absolutely mortified. “This is all your fault.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fluff #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond imagine

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ovaryacted · 2 months

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CANDY HEARTS

PAIRING: RE2!Leon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: It was Valentine's Day at the precinct and everyone was giving out candy grams for their secret admirers. Who knew that one piece of candy would have so much of an impact?

CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Mutual pining. Alcohol consumption. One kiss. Flirting and confessions at the end. Canon-adjacent. Modernized era (they have cell phones). The og gang is together and are all above the age of 21. Leon being silly and not knowing about social cues. Chris plays matchmaker & Claire is a jokester. Jill likes margaritas and Rebecca is the mom of the group. They are all friends and live happily ever after cause I said so.

WC: 3.7k

NOTES: I am back from the dead, and I come bearing gifts. This was just something I wanted to write for Valentine's Day, and I don't even know how the idea came along the entire way. Here’s some nice fluffy stuff with a bit of added corniness, something new from me. Hope you all enjoy and like it! Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

✰ ── 《 Navigation ⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ AO3 》

February, supposedly the month when red and pink mesh together to signify the one thing that couldn’t be explained. Love. Romance. Companionship.

It was a silly thing really, something that Leon didn’t understand, mostly because to him, it couldn’t be real. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, that he always wondered what it would be like to be so attached to another person it felt like being two parts of one whole.

It was another full week of the month, the days passing by as quickly as they started. Another day, another patrol, that was what he knew as part of his routine. Heading toward his locker to grab his gear, he was surprised to see a small heart-shaped lollipop wrapped in a red bow. He raised a brow at the strange object, curious fingers reaching out to inspect it closer.

“What do you have there?”

His head turned to the side at the sound of your voice, more so feeling your breath on his neck as you peered over his shoulder. Holding up the red lollipop for you to study, you took it from his grasp, the very tips of your fingers barely touching his before you held the wrapped candy.

“Leon, do you even know what this is?”, your eyes held that same mischievous gleam it always did when you were with him, and simply gave you a shrug. “It’s a candy gram silly”

“What? Someone just put a lollipop in my locker?”, Leon didn’t get why someone would even bother putting something like this for him to find.

“It’s for Valentine’s Day, something that the precinct wanted to do to celebrate. If you get one of these, it means someone is your secret admirer”, the way you described the entire ploy was almost comical to him, and he only chuckled.

“So it’s like a crush type of thing?”

“Sort of. Did you even read the note?”, and from the way he looked like a deer in headlights you knew he didn’t. You motioned over to the small red note that was hidden underneath the piece of candy. Carefully, he went to unfold it and read over the words that were written in cursive black ink.

I can’t turn water into wine, but I’m hoping to turn you into mine.

You watched as Leon quickly became flustered at the funny pick-up line, rolling his eyes and trying to hide the subtle blush he got from reading the words over and over again.

“I don’t like this game”, Leon grumbled under his breath, trying to shake off his embarrassment and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh cmon, it’s supposed to be funny. But listen, if you don’t want your lollipop I’ll gladly take it”, you smirked as his eyes met yours, pink lips curling up to match your grin.

“What? You didn’t get any candy grams of your own so you have to steal mine?”, he unwrapped the lollipop, popping it into his mouth and humming as he approved the taste. Cherry, his favorite.

“For your information, I got three. I just munched on all of the candies already I wanted another”, you placed your hands on your hips, the uniform only accentuating the curvature of your figure that Leon tried his hardest not to notice.

“Really? You got notes too or were you too busy eating your lollipops you forgot to notice”, he was teasing you now, going into his locker to put on his tactical belt and wrapping it around his hips. It fit snugly on his body, the leather belt he wore underneath to hold up his cargo pants seemed to add to his slim figure. Not that you were paying attention either.

“I did, but didn’t pay too much attention. I got a nice one though, said something like My candy heart is all yours. Real cute stuff”, you leaned against the wall as you waited for Leon before going on patrol. He was one of the only good things working at the R.P.D. had to offer, and coincidentally it just helped that he was also your friend. Having known each other for a while now, being like this came naturally, remembering how easy it was to be with him when you two first clicked.

“Sounds corny”, he said with a shake of his head, closing the metallic door and gesturing the both of you to start walking out of the room and into the main hall.

“Yeah, you’d know everything about being corny wouldn’t you?”, you taunted him back as you walked through the halls of the precinct, keeping track of all the patrols you had on the board today.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Are you coming on this patrol with me or what?”, he already knew the answer, didn’t have to so much as second guess to know that you’d be riding along with him.

“Of course I am. Who else will bother you with their favorite pop songs?”, you walked ahead of him, and his gaze went down your back to look at the handcuffs that jingled every time you took a step.

He definitely wasn’t looking at anything else.

It was a long day of work patrolling the city before Leon finally had some time to himself to relax. Thankfully, he didn’t have to work the overnight shift and could lounge at home to watch some shitty reality TV or whatever tickled his fancy. Of course, that was before he got a text message from you, ever the pest constantly wondering what he was up to. Not that he complained.

There’s a whole theme night going on at the local bar. Free shots at 10:30 pm. Bring your ass over here, and wear red!

Drinks? With you? That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary considering how familiar it felt to be around you, but he still couldn’t think of anything else he wanted to do for the night. So, he pretended like he didn’t want to be dragged out of his small apartment as he trudged his feet toward the shower to get dressed. He shouldn’t have cared so much about being presentable, usually, he never did. But for you, he was willing to try new things.

For the first time in probably ever, he’s forgone his usual color palette and took out a red button-down, rolling the sleeves up towards his forearms. Leon was always more fond of shades that reminded him of the sky, blues, greens, and white. Red was out of his comfort zone, but going out on Valentine’s Day night was enough to make that ball of anxiety tighten in his gut. Topping it all off with a bomber jacket, he left the keys to his jeep behind and took a cab instead, playing it safe if he ended up drinking something that would surely knock him off his feet.

He seemed to be counting down the minutes to the moment he walked into the bar. Scanning the area, he looked for any sight of you amongst the crowd, walking past several pairs of people lip-locking and downing shots in groups. The energy was electric, the music was lively, and as he continued to trek further into the bar that’s when he spotted you.

There you were, sporting a red deep-cut blouse and leather pants that were tight along your thighs. He caught the glossy red lipstick you put on for the occasion that only brightened your teeth as you laughed with those around you. And when you turned your head to find him standing there, he gulped down the pang he felt in his chest.

Yeah. He’s screwed.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting for you for so damn long. Good to know you listened to me for once”, you walked up to him, grabbed a hold of his wrist, and pulled him toward a corner of the bar where your other friends were sitting. Unless you cared to look for it, his pulse spiked when your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Maybe you felt it, maybe you didn’t, but that brief touch was cut short when Leon was brought to the table.

Most of the newfound gang was there, Chris and his sister Claire were there sharing a beer, while Rebecca was forcing Jill to be a bit more social. It was supposedly a normal night even though you were out of your uniform, forcing Leon to find a point on the wall to avoid peeking over in your direction. Chris kept him occupied, offering him a drink that he sipped to ease the nerves he felt, all while Claire teased him about wearing red instead of his usual navy. This wasn’t so bad, I’ll make it through the night, he thought to himself.

It only took a few drinks for everything to spiral out of control. The blame is to be put on tequila. It was always tequila, but thank god it was the weekend.

Just like you warned him, 10:30 pm rolled around and the bar burst into cheers as servers carried shot glasses filled with red liquid. Everyone at the table had one, and Leon watched as you downed the shot with ease, a wild grin on your face as you did. With your encouragement, and Claire’s taunting, he drank the shot and winced at the stinging of the liquid going down his throat. He hated taking shots, that you knew, but he’d do it so long as it made you happy.

This is why you leave the clear liquor to me and you stick to your beer. He remembered hearing you say that to him one night when you made him drink vodka, the raging hangover he got in the morning only further proved your point.

He’s lost count of the number of shots you consumed, splitting them between Jill and Claire, and an extra you forced Chris to take despite him sticking to his beer. Rebecca remained as the group chaperone, making sure nobody did anything too embarrassing tonight. Hearing a particular song that brightened your mood, you brought Claire towards the middle aisle where others seemed to follow you to dance in the small space.

Propping his elbow up against the wooden table, Leon leaned back to simply watch you move to the music. His whole body felt warm at the sight, seeing how you swayed your hips to the beat of the song and Claire did the same. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, his eyes ran up the stitching of your leather pants, over the deep v-line cut of your blouse, and again towards your face. Sure, you were attractive, he wasn’t blind. But what he was the most fond of was your smile, all cheery and wide to the point where the corners of your eyes crinkled.

He could see that look all the time and never get sick of it. The only thing he’d change was that he was the reason why you beamed like that.

“You’re doing it again”, Chris said out loud with a smirk, knocking Leon out of his little fantasy before meeting eye to eye again.

“I’m not doing anything”, he challenged in denial, Chris only chortled and shook his head.

“Unless you’re watching Claire dance, you know exactly what you’re doing”, the brunette matched his sister in humor, Leon exasperating in disbelief and took another sip of his beer. “You like her. You should do something about it”

“Chris…”

“C’mon, man. How much longer are you going to stand on the sidelines and just watch? Even I’m getting tired of the tension, it’s killing me”, ever the dramatic man, he wrapped a thick arm around Leon’s shoulder, bringing him in closer as if he were telling him a secret.

“You had a chance with the candy grams you realize that right? Sure, free candy but why not make it special?”

“Who says I didn’t do just that?”, the blonde said before it could be filtered out properly, sighing and downing the rest of his bottle.

“You’re joking. Seriously? She got like three of those things”, Chris’s brown eyes widened the slightest bit, not wanting to believe the truth.

“Does it look like I’m laughing right now?”, Leon chuckled incredulously at the realization that these feelings he’d been harboring for so long were starting to pour out of him the more he drank. “I don’t know how to talk to her. Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway, she’s not into me”

“Leon, you must be an idiot or something because she is into you. Who do you think gave you the candy gram?”, Chris muttered, probably not meaning to say it the way he did but it sounded like a confession.

Leon didn’t have time to ask for more details when you came back to the table on his side, an energetic Claire going towards Jill who was down three margaritas and growing sleepy. He could practically smell the perfume off of you, jasmine and soft vanilla, things that he found comfort in and sought after through his day-to-day.

“I think that’s enough dancing for me, I got dizzy”, you said, finishing the last bit of your watered-down drink and slamming the glass down on the table. From the way you were standing, your body almost leaned against Leon’s, ever inching closer toward him.

“Do you want to leave?”, Leon asked you, ever the concerned friend and partner despite the fact the alcohol was starting to get to him too.

“Nah, I’ll stay a little bit. Do you want to go?”, the way your eyes were hazy when you spoke to him brought that same twitch in his chest he usually ignored when he was around you.

“If you’re good, then I’m good. I’m not leaving without you”, he didn’t mean to say it in a different context outside of friendly, or maybe he did, but when he avoided a visceral reaction from you he figured he was in the clear.

“You got it boss”, you joked with him, but your hand lightly skimmed against his by accident, a shock running through you from the light touch. You didn’t meet his eye, instead, you felt the way his pinkie came closer to your own, discreetly curling around the digit.

It was a shy touch as if to gently test the boundaries of what was other than a cordial relationship. Leon started to grow anxious, thinking maybe he messed up, his mind beginning to spiral until you squeezed his finger back in silence. He tried not to make it obvious, but he looked over at you to see you smiling, and for that second he thought his small dream had come true.

“Another drink and then we’ll call it quits”, Chris’ voice popped the bubble that you were both in, but your hands didn’t move from where they were.

Yeah, one more drink couldn’t hurt, so long as you two remained like this for the rest of the night.

Leon regrets having that one last drink. The world around him was spinning, and his feet were lugging across the floor as if he was going to sink into the Earth any minute now. He nearly forgot that he wasn’t going home alone, that you were beside him, doing your best to support his body as you brought him over to your place like you had done a few times before.

Unlocking the door to your apartment and walking inside, Leon was hit with the same scent of jasmine and soft vanilla that he recognized as your own, faint layers of cinnamon engulfing him when you brought him over to your couch in a slump.

“I’m never letting you drink that much again”, your voice sounded almost distant, but it was comforting nonetheless. You walked away from him, your footsteps growing faint until you came back with a glass of water he graciously chugged.

“Wasn’t so bad, I can handle my liquor”, he slouched further into your couch, his head beginning to whirl from everything he drank.

“Leon, I had to carry you inside. You’re drunk”, you glanced at him with that same mischievousness you always had reserved just for him. Even if you had a better alcohol tolerance than he did, your pupils being dilated told him that you were in the same predicament

“Not complaining”, he was damn near mumbling now, his head pivoting to look at you fully. You were right there next to him, all dolled up in a way he hadn’t seen before. In the back of his mind, he imagined you did it just for him.

So pretty.

“You think so?”, your voice brought him out of his current haze, watching as he blinked once or twice before realizing he said his inner thoughts out loud.

“I-I…huh?”, Leon was stuttering now, looking towards the floor and growing embarrassed at the slip-up. You couldn’t help but giggle under your breath, and he prayed to God it wasn’t at him.

“Leon…I don’t know if you can tell but I’ve been trying to send you signals that I like you for months now. You’re a tough nut to crack”, you were speaking, but your words stopped filtering through his brain the moment you said the words ‘I like you’.

You like me?

“Yes, you cornball, I do”, you answered him anyway, catching him off guard at the response. At this rate, he’ll spill his deepest darkest secrets because he can’t tell the difference between what he’s thinking and what he’s saying. “The candy gram, that was me. Thought it might register in your head but it didn’t”

Leon looked like he had uncovered the biggest truth known to man. It was astonishing to witness, how he couldn’t process the thought that you were actually interested in him. You could see the gears starting to turn in his head, and once the revelation settled in his mind his lips were formed in a gentle smile.

“That was a really bad pick-up line”, Leon said, making you laugh even harder. Your hand made contact with his chest, patting against his body with every sound that slipped past you.

“And yours was any better?”, your hand didn’t move from where it sat on his chest, mindlessly caressing the material of his red button-down.

“Yeah, I think ‘my candy heart is all yours’ is one of my best works”, he was almost cocky when he talked, but his facial expression was anything short of dorky. You both looked like a bunch of love-drunk idiots waiting for one to say what the other wanted to hear.

“Hmm, that sounded like you. Is this you admitting that you gave me that candy gram?”, you were leaning on him, shifting so your body was closer against his. The tequila still running through your system heightened your senses, the natural scent of Leon’s cologne was enough to make your heart flutter.

“Something like that”, he grinned bashfully, blue eyes looking at you intensely. He took in every detail of your features he could get, moving some of your hair out of your face and curling it behind your ear. His hand didn’t move too far, resting his palm against your cheek and running his thumb against the warmth of your skin.

“Would it be bad to kiss you?”, he whispered his words to you, as if his feelings would only be safe in the four walls of this room.

“No, I’ve been waiting for you to ask me”, you moved so your chest was pressed against his, hands moving up towards his neck and caressing the hair at his nape.

Leon didn’t have to wait too long to feel your lips meshing with his, sighing in what he could only describe as pure satisfaction. A shiver rushed down his spine and broke off into the rest of his body, blood pulsing through his veins at rapid speed the more his heart pumped in his chest. He pressed your body against him, wrapping an arm around your waist and keeping his other hand on your cheek.

Leon felt drunk, both literally and figuratively off of you and everything that you were. Things made sense for the first time, having you like this here with him. It was all he wanted, all he needed, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough. Against his wishes, he pulled away for air, staying close by to rest his forehead against yours.

“About damn time Kennedy”, you teased him again, but your expression was tender. You noticed how your red lipstick stained his lips, no doubt leaving barely any left on your mouth. “Red looks good on you”, you put a thumb against his lips, rubbing at the plush skin you just felt for the first time.

“Does this mean I get to ask you to be my Valentine?”, he looked so cute when he asked you, rolling your eyes at his question, but you found it endearing.

“You’re two hours too late, but I’ll happily be your Valentine anyway”, you gave him one more smooch on the lips, and the happiness on his face was damn near palpable. “But you owe me a better one next time, you hear me?”

Next time.

“Loud and clear. I’ll have a better pick-up line to use on you”

“If you start getting corny, I will leave you on the couch”, the playful threat didn’t worry Leon in the slightest, his smile getting wider with every passing second he spent with you.

“Awe come on, I meant what I said. My candy heart is all yours”, his nose nuzzled into your neck, kissing your soft ticklish skin and breathing you in, marking your scent into his memory.

This time around, he thinks he’ll thank the tequila instead. Perhaps Cupid is real, a little overdue, but he still got the job done in the end.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

373 notes · View notes

rayne-astrophile · 2 months

Text

Special oneshot before Valentine's Day ends :D

Buttons - Rayne Ames x F!Reader

Notes - inspired by a comic I read when i was a child where japanese students give their shirt's button (the one in the same level as their heart) to their crush because it kind of means they give their heart to them!

- highschool!au & ooc rayne

You have a crush on Rayne Ames even before he becomes the Student Council's president. He might not remember you, but he had helped you with your homework when you first attended Easton.

Since then, you fell in love with him.

And today is Valentine's day. Students start to give their shirt's button to their crushes.

You grip yours in your hand. You want to give it to Rayne, but you're still considering it. What if he doesn't accept it? What if he doesn't like you? What if he doesn't remember you at all?

But you have promised yourself to confess your feelings for him today, on Valentine's day. It doesn't matter if he rejects you, you just want him to acknowledge your feelings.

In the end, you come to a conclusion to give him your shirt's button.

It is lunch break when you try to find Rayne. You look around the school, and finally you catch a glimpse of half blonde and half raven hair behind the class building.

Your eyes lit up as you take a step forward, but-

"Please take my button," You widen your eyes when a girl's voice reaches your ears. You immediately hide yourself at the other side of the building as you listen to the girl's confession for Rayne.

Your heart aches in pain, as the possibilities of him accepting the girl's confession still exists. You peek silently from the other side.

That girl is the student council's vice president, Judy. She is the beauty of the school, and she didn't get that title for nothing. Her blonde hair and her ocean eyes... she's just perfect. She also performs well in academics, adding to her popularity.

You're doing well with your academics, too, but you're more low key. You always hate attention.

Despite both of them being the dream partner, the students can't help but ship them. "Perfection is for perfection", they say.

That makes you ponder,

What if Rayne accepts her? Do you have no chance at all? Does he---

"I appreciate your feelings for me," Rayne's smooth voice cuts you off from your train of thoughts. "But I can't accept it. I'm sorry," he apologises as Judy slowly retreats her button. "It's fine, Rayne." She smiles as she puts her button into her pocket. "I just want to get over this feeling and focus on studying." She runs a hand through her hair.

Judy lets out a sigh as she looks at Rayne. "So, who's the lucky one? I see you already took off your button." She asks in interest.

Her sentence makes your heart shatter into pieces. You lower your head and your feet finally take you away from the scene as you put your button into your pocket.

Rayne stays silent as he looks to the side; at your previous hiding spot.

"I'm going to give it to her now."

You enter the empty class, while the other students are busy giving their buttons to their crushes. Everyone is laughing and smiling, while you're alone, doing your own things.

It is not long after that you hear the door of the classroom being pushed open.

What you do not expect is your crush walking in.

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet his golden ones, which you immediately look away. Even so, you can see him entering the class from the corner of your eyes.

"Why are you here? Don't you want to give your button to your crush?"

You raise your head to look at him as he is already (surprisingly) in front of you. You look around the class before pointing to yourself, "You're asking me?"

Rayne visibly frowns. "Who else would I be talking to if it's not you? Do you see anyone else in this class, (Last name)?"

You gape your mouth, "Y-You know me?" You ask in disbelief. His frown darkens as he furrows his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?" He mutters. "We've been classmates since our first year."

You look away timidly as you brush a strand of your hair to the back of your ear, only for it to fall back. "I didn't think you'd remember me," you whisper softly, which is audible to him.

"And why'd you think that?"

Is he always this talkative? You are already screaming on the inside.

"I..." you trail your eyes away from him. "Have... have you given your button to your crush?"

His frown is even more visible when you change the topic. He lets out a sigh, but he wants to get over it anyway.

"I was going to give it to her," he murmurs. "Do you think she'll accept it?" His question makes you confused. Why would he want your opinion?

"Of course she will. You're everyone's crush, you know?" You mumble, your voice is barely above a whisper.

But he still can hear it.

"Is that so?" He asks, and you can barely see the corners of his lips lift up as he reaches out his fist to you. "Then, you'll accept this, right?"

He opens his fist, revealing a button in his palm. Your eyes widen as you look at him in disbelief.

"W-What?"

Rayne trails his eyes away from you. "It's okay if you don't want to. I see you, too, have taken off your button." He lowers his hand, only for you to take it into yours.

"N-No! I..." you stutter as you take out your own button from your pocket. Hesitantly, you put the small object on his palm. "You can take mine. I-I can't possibly take yours,"

Rayne stares at the two buttons on his palm before locking his eyes with yours. "Why not?" You lower your head as you fiddle your hands on your lap. "I-I just can't believe it. You can't possibly have feelings for someone like me-"

"Let me prove it to you, then."

You flinch when his warm hand cups your cheek and lifts your head up to face him. Before you knew it, his soft lips pressed against yours, taking your breath away.

He moves his lips with a gentle, delicate movement as his other hand rests on your nape, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You find yourself lost in his kiss as you grip the hem of your skirt, your cheeks burning and your heart beating faster than ever.

Seconds feel like eternity for you until Rayne finally pulls away. His tongue runs on his lower lip as his golden eyes stare into yours.

"Is that enough?" He asks breathlessly, his own cheeks heating up as you are already as red as a beautiful rose. "I-I..." you stutter, struggling to arrange your words.

"It's still not enough, I see."

You gasp, "Wait-"

Before you can finish your sentence, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands move from your nape to your waist, pulling you closer, earning a gasp from you, and he takes advantage of your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He tastes every inch of your mouth as he turns your bodies around so that your back is against the desk. His hand on your waist moves onto your desk, trapping you as he kisses you passionately.

After what seems like forever, he finally pulls away. He looks over to the door before looking back at you. "Seems like the other students are still not coming back," he hums. "I've been waiting to do this since our first year," he mutters, his thumb brushes against your lower lip. His eyes stare into yours as he leans in, hungry for more.

The moment the sentence escapes his lips, you figure, that him, too, has fallen ever since your first encounter.

BYE

#mashle x reader #mashle #rayne ames #rayne ames x reader #magic and muscles

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queers-gambit · 22 days

Text

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

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gintrinsic-writing · 6 months

Text

A Fuckless Year

It’s just a kiss, Legend tells himself. Just a kiss. One stupid, little kiss. This is, like, the least frightening thing I’ve ever faced.

Oh hells, who is he kidding? This is terrifying.

Ravio leans in ever so slightly. “Pardon? You, uh...”

“What?” Legend blurts uncomfortably.

“You said good night, and then you…” Ravio clears his throat lightly. “You paused and looked at me. With your eyes.”

Legend almost laughs. Instead, he makes a sound like a dying frog, then waves both hands in denial. “How else am I supposed to look at you, idiot?” he asks, knowing exactly what Ravio meant.

“Shrill,” Ravio accuses. Legend hopes the chain can’t hear them from the guest bedrooms. “You only ever sound shrill when you’re guilty!”

“I was—” Legend clears his throat and purposely makes his voice deeper. “I was not shrill. I’ve never been shrill in my life.”

Ravio pinches the bridge of his nose. The tips of his ears are endearingly pink. “Link…”

It’s just a kiss! You’re the goddess-damned Hero of Courage! Act like it!

But instead Legend stands there like a loser, palms unreasonably sweaty, heart racing like it hasn’t since the last time fought that pig Ganon. He inhales slowly and counts to three, prepared to, well, do something, maybe, but Ravio suddenly holds out a hand.

“Hey,” Ravio murmurs, expression soft and achingly affectionate, “let’s go to bed.”

Legend’s jaw drops before he can help it, and his entire face burns. “B-bed?” He yanks off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. He can’t seem to decide where to stare. “You—But I—We haven’t even—We should at least kiss first!”

Ravio’s face goes through at least four stages of grief, by Legend’s rapid approximation. Ravio slaps his palms together as if about to pray, then presses his fingertips to his lips. His eyes are comically wide. “Link, my hero, my best customer, my regular headache—what?”

“You were the one who said let’s go to bed!”

Legend slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as he finishes shouting. They both wince in tandem, eyeing the stairs, but there’s no noise from the others. Legend just knows there’ll be embarrassing hell to pay come morning, though. He drops his voice to a whisper: “You said bed. Did you—Oh fuck, you didn’t mean…?”

“No!” Ravio whispers back. “I mean, not that I’m opposed, but.”

Legend’s throat is so fucking dry. “You’re not opposed,” he repeats dumbly.

“Of course not! But just then, I meant sleep. Which people do in bed. You have a bed. Your own bed.” Ravio’s ears droop as his own dumb words catch up to him. “It was simply an invitation to retire for the night, separately!”

“But,” and Legend can’t seem to move past this point, Din burn him, “but you’re not opposed?”

“Ohhh my Goddess!” Ravio hisses. “What are you, some closeted creep? If you must know, then yes, I’m interested. I have been for a fucking year! Or should I say, a fuckless year, thanks to you and your stupid—your stupid—” He grips the air as if strangling some invisible menace. “You’re inept!”

Legend doesn’t think his self-esteem can get any lower at this point. “It’s not like you’ve been giving clues,” he begins weakly, but clearly that’s the wrong thing to say.

“Haven’t been giving clues? Haven’t been giving clues!” Ravio half-shouts. “The discounts? The lingering smiles? The robe slipping off my bare shoulder?”

Legend remembers that. He’s remembered it many, many times. “...Oh.”

Ravio throws his hands up in despair. “Oh, he says! Oh!”

The silence that follows is painfully, painfully awkward. At least on Legend’s part. “So…”

Ravio’s jaw works in silence for a moment. “Yes?”

Legend thinks dying must surely be less painful than this. “A kiss?”

Ravio holds up a finger threateningly. Legend wishes it wasn’t such a turn-on. “I swear to every Goddess in existence, after all you’ve put me through, if this isn’t the best kiss I’ve ever had, I’ll sell your hide for a single rupee.”

“Wow,” Legend breathes. “You really know how to make a guy feel confident.”

“And I don’t need your stupid—”

Legend pulls Ravio in by his robe and slots their mouths together, kissing like each taste is a breath, like each spark is a measure of adoring warmth on an otherwise chilly night. He chases Ravio’s mouth and is chased in turn, until suddenly he realizes he's pressed against a wall and gasping from lightheadedness.

“Rav,” he begins, having no idea what he actually wants to say.

“Maybe…” Ravio takes a moment to simply breathe. “Maybe more than one rupee. Maybe fifty.”

“Fifty?” Legend repeats incredulously, then laughs. He hopes the others don't wake, but he doesn't really care if they do. “That’s it?”

Ravio licks his lips and presses closer. “Maybe a hundred, I’m not sure.”

“Sucked the math right out of you, huh?” Legend jokes, only belatedly realizing what an opening he has given the greedy salesman.

Ravio’s grin is downright devilish. “Now there’s an idea.”

Legend prays.

—

Part 2 (sort of nsfw)

#lolllll anyway here's THIS #more importantly did anyone else watch the newest JJK tonight?#i think i said “holy shit” twice while watching #what an episode #lu ravio #ravioli #lu legend #lu fic #linked universe #ravio #gintrinsic writing

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cloudninetonine · 6 months

Text

A Player's Aid: Chapter 16

Fandom: Legend of Zelda, Linked Universe

Warnings: Bad langaue, mentions of conflict, mentions of intimidation (??), mentions of blood, stabbing (??? Wild has been stabbed by an arrow), Tears spoilers (Great Fairy new location)

The few following seconds shared one of the two reactions you were expecting.

Jack shit.

Everyone still watching, waiting- the longer you stood idly with the stone still dormant under your palm the harder your face fell until the scowl was obvious to see.

“That it?” More to yourself than anything, you glanced down to Wind who shared the same disappointed look.

“I guess.”

What a barrel of fun.

It seemed such mystery would lay underdiscovered for a little longer, your heart dropping in disappointment. You didn’t like not knowing, didn’t like the unknown behind the veil of magic continuing to hide your purpose. Ridiculous. It was ridiculous. Why couldn’t you have been given the slightest hint to what was going on? Why were you being held in the dark? You weren’t supposed to be here, in some mediaeval wonderland with horrid creatures lurking in the dark or under the guise of humanity- Hylianity? Oh, who even gave a fuck.

“This was fucking pointless.” You muttered, dejectedly. “Let’s just go.”

Wind patted your hand in a show of sympathy, Wild joining your opposite side to send you a smile with similar emotion.

Robbie shrugged. “Eh, you win some, you lose some.”

Behind you someone began to speak, your body turning to address them-

And suddenly it was gone.

Everything was gone. Like the sun had suddenly gone out, along with the stars, the galaxies- like the land beneath you had been sucked away by an unknown force as you stood stock still in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Hands still visible, body still intact, your eyes widened in a confused little horror while you glanced around the area with comical silence.

…

“....Am I tweaking-”

BASS BOOST.

It was the best way to describe it. Like standing next to a speaker in a club, the sound waves close to bursting your own ears as you screamed in surprise and made a move to cover them. Light accompanied it, blinding and raw as it pierced even your eyelids after snapping them shut to save your own sight. Flashing colours and screaming volumes, you curled into a tight ball to save your senses as everything flew right towards you- what was this? Some sort of rave turned to the level hell?

Only one way to find out.

Forcing yourself to open your eyes you saw continuous flashes. The changing colours turned to solid pictures, the scene around you changing each passing second practically leaving you dumbfounded. What were these images? It took all the power in you to focus on only the tiniest tidbits of it.

Field. Red poppies.

Mountain. Encased in snow.

Cave. A stream that led to light.

Your eyes fell to the floor, a surface that seemed to flutter like waving water beneath your boots with the familiar veins of blue that ran rapidly into the abyss.

The screaming was still too loud, the feeling of liquid slowly rolling out of your ears and into your gloves only proving that along with tears of pain rolling down your cheeks. Oh god, oh god it hurt and it just wasn’t stopping.

“Please.” You hiccuped, shaking from the strain. “Please stop- it hurts.”

And just like it was dark again.

Just like before, save for the show of Sheikah magic that still flowed gently further and further into the ground, the area grew dark and silent. Not a peep, not a sight, only the nothingness that just surrounded you moments earlier returned full force as your body collapsed into a foetal position, still silently crying and shaking.

The lights were soft this time, the movement of the magic catching your attention as you watched it move beneath you.

Sheikah symbols slowly formed with the English following straight after, a slow transition of foreign script to a translation as it shined against your eyes.

“Here lays the tomb of our fate-”

You faded back in.

Eyes caught aquatic blue with the sailor kneeled just at your level, a concerned gaze searching frantically into yours before relaxing at the sight of your attention on him. Gilda also sat on his shoulder, looking just as relieved as the teen.

“You-....you okay?” The fairy asked after a beat.

You blinked, registering the other bodies surrounding you and the feeling of magic just by your head- the familiar white glow of Hyrule’s healing spell stopping the horrible ache within your head along with your eardrums. God, you hoped he saved your hearing.

You were tired.

“…” You inhaled then sighed something heavy. “Put me down like a fucking dog.”

Quite a few voices piped up to give you a collective. “No.”

“Fuck you lot then.”

Welp, at least you tried.

----------

After a lengthy chat with Robbie, it was time to move again.

Hyrule insisted on a longer break along with a few others to let you recuperate but you had brushed it off, needing a distraction and not wanting to cause more delay than you already had back at the castle. Being a day behind probably wasn’t good for these band of heroes and you didn’t want to add on to that when you could still walk just fine. After all you were just tired and…well, you were tired and that was all that needed to be said.

Keeping hold of Hyrule’s hand your eyes stayed downward, focused on the dirt path the lot of you walked in the next few dragging hours. Staying silent as you rolled over those gruelling few seconds that you had dissociated. Seconds. Only seconds when it had felt like aeons as those voices screamed and those scenes flashed.

Why a field? Why a mountain? Why a cave? What was the tomb the Sheikah script mentioned and what did it all mean?? Your mind felt heavy with only more questions, too many still left unanswered and agitating the expanse of your mind. The whole point of touching the dripstone was to gather information but you were only left more confused than you were before. It was selfish for this world to continuously dogpile information with really no notes- couldn’t the universe give you some kind of red pen annotation for this amalgamation of ‘what the fuck’?

It had begun to rain into the last hour of your journey, mutters of distaste echoing through the group as the pace grew faster, passing by Manhala Bridge then taking a turn to the left towards the towering Coliseum in the distance.

You only really registered the ache in your legs when the outline of Outskirt Stable was only a few paces ahead.

“We’ll take shelter here for the night.” Time spoke, louder than the storm that currently beat down on your heads. “I don’t think it’s good to walk any further in these conditions.”

And those conditions sure were conditioning- you heard the telltale roars of thunder and flashes of lightning. You instinctively muttered the seconds after each crack to see the following strike.

BOOM!

FLASH!

Four miles away, quite close.

The front desk clerk, Embry, was the one to get you all situated. No beds needed, just somewhere with a roof so not a rupee lost, even when Time tried to insist the kind innkeeper waved him off.

“You pay for the beds- shelter is a Hylian right!”

Hmmm, your government could have taken a tip or two from that.

Your bedroll had never felt this comfortable, it seemed, even against the hardwood floor of the stable, horrible lumps and stiffness only equated to your nice fluffy mattress back home. As if you could feel that plush duvet, freshly washed for a long night of rest and your pillows expertly fluffed to embrace your head, you felt yourself begin to drift.

Dinner could wait, you needed a nap and you needed it now. Hell, maybe you would sleep through the whole night from the fatigue-

“Hey- you’re not falling asleep now are you?” A red, tired eye cracked open with a horrid twitch, turning to look at Wind who looked down at you from where he was leaning, big blue eyes studying you curiously. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

Dear Christ in heaven- “Really? Now?”

“Don’t say it like it’s late- ‘s’only early evening!”

“If I could choke you, I would.”

“Just come on!”

“Better be worth it or I’m hanging you from your feet outside.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “It is!”

With a heavy groan you flopped onto your front then pushed your weight up to kneel, blinking blearily at the hand offered to you that quickly yoinked you upright once you had taken it. Dragged to the opposite side of the stable inn, dragging your feet in a show of exasperation as the younger boy brought you to the mini tent set up right at the back of the structure- little Haite (now bigger than her once chibi version) sat just outside, watching the light darkness underneath.

Wind kneeled down and you copied his movements-

“Awh.” The Hylian retriever tilted its head towards you, panting and looking tired with puppies surrounding her stomach, snoring quietly under the noise of the storm. “Okay, it’s worth it.”

“Told you~” You yanked his ear at the show of attitude, the boy yelping and slapping your arm when Haite shushed you both quietly, sending you fierce glares.

“You’ll wake the puppies!” She whisper-shouted and you both fell silent.

Eyes returned to the spectacle of the dog and pups, watching them with soft eyes.

You needed something like this. A moment to just relax and wind down, not thinking about the mounting horrors of Hyrule or the darkness that lurked, waiting to snatch you up. A bit of normalcy laid right before your eyes, a relaxing activity that could securely hide your daunting anxiety- watching puppies sleep their pretty little heads away.

“Who’s the dad?”

“A wolf!”

“Woah!”

“Yeah! She used to sneak off to play with him all the time!”

Oh they were wolfdogs too- your heart couldn’t handle the cuteness.

On instinct you reached your hand out, careful and slow as you moved closer to the Hylian Retriever who tilted her head again curiously, bringing it forward to meet you halfway.

A gasp came from your side. “Wait, don’t-”

And the retriever gently licked your fingers after a sniff, a smile pulling on your face as you moved to ruffle her fluff.

“Oh! She’s been very aggressive recently because of the puppies!” Haite noted, watching as the stable dog pushed its head further into your hand to feel your touch. “What’s your secret?”

Wind bumped you playfully. “They just have a thing with animals- Epona loves them.”

“Nah, I’m just lucky.” A puppy raised its head with a small squeak and your hand carefully moved to gently stroke it, its little sleepy whimper causing a flutter in your chest from the cuteness. “Awh, they’re so adorable.”

It was soothing, the harsh pelting of rain only added to the comfy atmosphere as you continued to pamper the pups and tired mother until you were both finally called over for dinner. Quiet chatter amongst you all so as to not disturb the many other people resting within the stable, you kept glancing over to the little makeshift dog house where the retriever kept beautiful eyes of gold focused on you. Her tail wagged each time your eyes locked.

“(Name).” Your attention swivelled back, making eye contact with the eldest. “You only briefly discussed what happened with the stone- please, tell us more of what occured.”

Oh great, back diving into the horrible and very much terrible moments in this adventure of pain that you were unwillingly dragged into. Having to relive the same scarring moments in an awful cycle to relay what cryptic message some unknown entity was trying to laser beam into your brain.

You sighed, heavy, and your free hand was grabbed by the Traveller. “I didn’t get much, in all honesty….it was bright and it was…it was loud…so loud….”

Your eyes glazed over, the images flashing.

“A field.” With…with red poppies.

“A mountain.” Encased in snow….

“A cave.” With a stream leading to light.

“....And there was something about a tomb.” Our tomb. You weren’t exactly sure who that referred to but the ominous tone sure wasn’t a fun thing to read along with the chill that had run up your back from the words alone. “That’s all I got…sorry…”

Hyrule gently squeezed your hand. “That’s okay, don’t push yourself.”

Warriors leaned forward.

“It seemed like a painful experience though.” The captain added, gesturing to your ears. “How loud was it?”

You gently brushed your ears unconsciously, the ghost feeling of maroon liquid gently seeping into your gloves and around your fingers. “Loud enough.”

Quiet surrounded you for the moment.

Then noise entered the room in the form of Wind dropping his empty bowl, a loud clutter echoing through the space and catching the attention of everyone. “....Woops.”

Chatter returned once again, a more mirthful atmosphere growing around you as the sailor made eye contact and winked.

You’d have to thank him later.

Settled in your sleep mat, you were on the edge of sleep when a weight was gently laid on your chest. You didn’t bother to open your eyes, expecting to see some appendage of Wind, knowing how he liked to move around, until another weight appeared: then another, and another, another- at the fifth weight placed you peaked an eye open to see the retriever trot over with a puppy in her mouth, tail still swishing at the sight of you as she placed the sixth and final baby upon your chest before she finally settled between you and a very confused Wild with a stretch then yawn.

Silence quietly passed.

Then Wild blinked. “...what just happened?”

You curled a protective arm around the canine babies with teary eyes. “I’ve just become a father.”

Wild watched you before snorting. “Congratulations.”

Then he turned over.

You didn’t have a lot going for you in this land of magic and monsters, but at least-

At least a dog liked you.

----------

“Mind if I join you?”

The traveller’s eyes rose from polishing his blade to the man before him, sat by the whispering fire that softly flickered in the gentle night air. His visitor was adorned with his wolf pelt in the cool Hyrule evening as he waited patiently for the younger hero’s confirmation.

“Go ahead.” The brunette smiled, returning to his chore as the elder parked himself beside him with a tired huff, the rancher’s eyes focused on the stars above rather than his brother in spirit. “Patrolling?”

The ranch-hand hummed. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I struggle to sleep with no trusted lookout- even if we’re supposed to be safe….just something you learn from my home.”

Silence fell between them after that.

In the light of the moon, birds had settled in their nests, the daylight mammals in their den while the insects sung their usual tune. Bugs harmonised with the wind and trees, their sounds a beautiful chorus of peace for those who bore witness to it; the lightning bugs danced to the near hypnotising rhythm, nocturnal critters snuck through the bush of the surrounding woodland in their nightly hunt.

Twilight inhaled a breath.

“...Have you mentioned anything to (Name) about us?”

“Hm?” The traveller glanced at his companion. “Why do you ask?”

“They knew who Wolfie was- they knew his name.” A stillness surrounded both as the Hero of Twilight looked to the Hero of Hyrule, his face a little hard. “I understand if you want to share your own secrets-”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Link, and you know that.” Hyrule’s frown made the other’s face drop, looking down to his lap as the younger man continued, a sigh fresh on his lips as he returned to look at his reflection within the blade’s surface. “I know that Wolfie was a hard secret to tell and I would never share such a thing, even with them.”

“Then how did they-”

“Possibly from how they knew us to begin with.”

Twilight blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Their odd device? They showed us the Champion- they did mention that’s how they came to know our stories.”

A beat. “So…they could know more?”

Hyrule sat a little straight. “They do- I’ve asked.”

…Twilight began to nervously fiddle his thumbs, a sudden course of adrenaline rushing through him as the thoughts raged in his head. You knew more? How much more? Is that how you knew of Wolfie? If so why hadn’t you said anything- leave them, him, in the dark like that? He wasn’t sure how to react that night, as you cried and shook, whether to shift back and question you or just let it be as coincidence. But for goddess’ sake you saw a wolf and didn’t react, just seeked his comfort during your terror and slept like a child swaddled in their favourite blanket throughout the remaining night. The hero couldn’t just let that go.

You could have known he was Wolfie- that he was affiliated with the Twilight Realm.

Twilight bounced his leg. “...Have they said anything?”

Hyrule paused his activity upon seeing the turmoil on his friend’s face, settling his sword aside.

“They said it was none of my business.” He chuckled, smiling a little. “Well, not that way exactly, but I could tell in their eyes that they would not say a word to me- just after I asked if they could keep my own secrets.”

“They know your own secrets?”

“Yes.”

“....And they haven’t said a thing?”

“My brother in spirit- if you are so worried why don’t you ask them?”

….Could he really ask such a thing? “But what if they don’t know?”

Hyrule shrugged. “Then they don’t.”

“And if they do-”

“I can wake them if you like-”

“No! No.” Twilight raised his hands in worry when Hyrule had begun to raise, the brunette falling back to his seat on the log. “No you don’t need to wake them.”

“I wasn’t going to.” The Hero of Hyrule grinned something cheeky at his brother’s deadpan, chuckling once more as the stronger man lightly nudged him at his tasteless joke. “I doubt they will move anyway- they seemed very comfy in that canine pile.”

Twilight chuckled. “I suppose so…you have a lot of trust and care for them, traveller- in such a short span too.”

Hyrule raised a brow. “Your point?”

“Nothing bad, I promise, just-....protect your heart, okay? We don’t know how long they’ll be with us for.”

Hyrule frowned, brows furrowed. “....I…I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“Let’s just…let us no longer speak of it, okay?”

In the distance, a lone wolf howled.

“...Okay.”

----------

“(name)....”

…

“(Name)...”

…What was that?

“(Name).”

Just on the edge of consciousness, the voice grew closer the faster and faster your body returned to the world of the living. Darkness was the first thing you registered as your vision began to fade in, the faint outlines of objects slowly forming as your brain kicked itself into high gear and the world began to make sense outside of the reality of dreams.

“(Name).” Soft hands patted at your face, tiny in scale to a human’s and soft as they tried to shake your cheek. “(Name), get up.”

“Noooo…” You muttered, tightening your arm carefully around the puppies still snoring away. “Tired.”

“I know you are,” Gilda reasoned, laying against the crevice of your neck. “But please.”

You closed your eyes once more, hoping to drown out her voice with thoughts of jumping sheep and clouds but when she begged again, sounding so desperate and pleading, you finally managed a tired sigh. Carefully, you worked to take off the six slumbering puppies and place them carefully by their mother, her eyes peeking open to see you push yourself to your feet with the blanket still wrapped around you.

“Fine.” Grunting, you waddled over to the curtains of the stable doorway, blocking out the moon’s beams for the sleeping patrons. “Show me the way.”

The next half hour involved climbing a hill. A horrid 30 minutes that only resulted in a pissy, tired attitude from you as the fairy continued to urge you to hurry as she hovered a few inches from your ear, her usual ethereal sounds almost like a buzzing fly next to you in your exhausted and irritated state.

“Stop rushing me.” You huffed, a little out of breath from the climb. “I’ll get there when I get there.”

“I just-”

“Gilda, I’m tired can you just-”

You registered the glow first. Twinkling like stars in the night that had your attention snapping from the glowing forest green to the sparkling gold that made your jaw drop in awe.

“Is…is that?”

Gilda smiled. “It is…you can get closer.”

The Great Fairy Fountain was a blooming flower with beautiful orange petals dusted with spots of daffodil yellow, a golden encrusted sculpture crowning the centre with resting birds and more flowers. Assortments of mushrooms in variations of beautiful colours dotted over its surfaces, an abundance making up the ramping path that led to the glowing water that rippled with magic in a memorising way. You couldn’t help but slowly waddle forward, eyes shining in the light of the fountain’s beauty.

Multi-colour lights fluttered around with giggles and hushed excited chatter, calls of your name and soft caressing of your skin from the small crowd of fairies surrounding you, their presence making you giddy with excitement at the experience.

After not even a few seconds, there were fairies seated all over you and you were more than happy about that.

“This is incredible.” Gilda rushed to take refuge against your neck, playfully nudging one of her fae sisters aside to lean into your warmth. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

“Not exactly.”

In a display which you could only describe as magical, your vocabulary not wide enough to explain the beautiful details in which the nest of fairies rushed around in a mesmerising dancing spectacle, their giggles and chants growing louder and louder by the second, along with the bubbling of rushing water before finally it glowed a bright white and the liquid burst as something came to rush out.

Or someone.

“Hahhhhhh!”

You yelped and leapt back in surprise, eyes focused on the giant woman that had exploded from out of the pond.

Petunia pink hair with stunning forest green eyes and beautiful black skin. The Great Fairy was covered in glittering gold jewellery encrusted with red rubies, with the skin of her chest plated over with gradient pink scales and behind her ears sprouted iridescent fairy wings that fluttered gently in the wind. Makeup done to perfection, her red lips grew into a dazzling smile as she leaned her chin on her hand.

Kaysa’s eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky.

The definition of perfection.

“Hello, dear guide.” Her voice was angelic, like a church choir’s beautiful symphony. “Just the one I wanted to see. Please, come closer”

The sisters giggled around her, either taking seats on her form or settling in her hair- Gilda however stayed by your side, staring up at the larger woman while tugging at fistfulls of your clothes frantically.

You took a careful step forward, eyes large in sheer amazement of her as you did. “I…I’m not sure if I’m who you’re looking for.”

“Oh?” The fairy cooed, leaning forward to study you closer. “And what makes you think that?”

You looked to your feet, feeling so little under the gaze of something so grand and magnificent.

“I just…everyone makes the guide out to be this really high and noble figure and I…I’m not that.” You breathed, feeling your stomach twist in disappointment. “I don’t remember any of that. I’ve always been this mediocre person walking around everyday being just as confused as everyone else and just… me? A magic guide? No, that’s not me. So I’m really sorry, but you have the wrong person-”

Kaysa’s giant hand gently came to rest around you, pulling you closer to her leaning face as she released the most beautiful laugh you had ever heard.

“Breathe, (Name), you don’t need to be nervous with me- after all, it should be me who is nervous!”

Grasping gently to her thumb you followed her steps, your sudden racing heart slowly going back to an appropriate speed once again, until finally you had fought off the panic attack that had threatened to take you once more.

Fucking hell, it seemed that was all that you were good for recently.

Kaysa moved so that her hand came to rest beneath you, your body seated on her massive palm comfortably with the pad of her thumb softly rubbing your back in a comforting motion. Your still exhausted brain fought off the fog of sleep at the movement, looking back up into her giant green eyes that shone with mirth and kindness.

“There, better?”

You smiled. “Much, thank you.”

“Now,” She brought you closer, the ground beneath you growing further the higher you were raised until you were face to face (read body to face) with the Great Fairy. “Do you really believe such things about yourself?”

“...that I’m mediocre?”

“That you are unworthy of the title of Guide.”

You twiddled your thumbs, “....Yes.”

“Hm. And what makes you think this way?”

Ugh, where to start. “Um, I’m kind of shit at directions, first of all. So Guide? Yeah, no. Second, I don’t have any magic- the only kind of magic I’ve ever done was the typical card trick in a deck which honestly isn’t even magic, just trickery. Noble? I would probably sell my best friend for a tub of ice cream-”

Her laughter cut you off, her free hand coming to gently cover her mouth to muffle her giggles. “I’m not sure. I only know one Guide who could bring such laughter to an audience so quickly.”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m just good at comedic timing- nice to know that we both have that in common.”

“...You share their light too.”

“Huh?” You sat a little straighter, “What do you mean?”

In that moment, the youthfulness of The Great Fairy Kaysa vanished, the spark in her eyes grew older as memories flashed in her mind. You weren’t quite sure what she was recalling but you could tell that it was something important as a sentimental look washed over her features and her smile wilted just the slightest, bearing a saddened tinge.

“The Guide carried this aura of light around them- even in the darkest of times. Not only did the heroes depend on that light in moments of pure misery, but the many others who had interacted with them felt that beautiful spark. In your eyes that light still seems to burn, slightly dampened by whatever your world has forced upon you but even now those flames refuse to die.” Her free hand came close, index finger slow and steady as it pressed carefully against your chest. “Here is where it burns strongest, it fuels you, (Name). You may not realise it now, but you are much closer to the Guide than you realise.”

You felt your heart pulse and flutter, eyes zoning in on your chest curiously at the strange reaction only to see nothing. How odd, you could have sworn you saw a quick flash of something.

Your hands rested against her skin. “...But I’m not them.”

“Maybe not- but you are connected. Whether it be your motivation or your souls, I know that spirit better than the heroes themselves.”

Her hand moved away as you retreated quickly to your thoughts, eyes still focused downwards to your chest as the bottled questions only seemed to grow closer and closer to bursting out in a cloud of confusion and frustration. You expected to be connected to the Guide but a spark? What did that even mean? What spark did you possess that the Guide also shared? Was it the presence that Dink had mentioned those days ago? Ugh, why were people confusing you more? Why couldn’t things make sense-

You yawned unwillingly, eyes blinking in an uncoordinated way. Oh yeah, it was still the middle of the night.

“Tired?”

“Yeah…”

“You may rest here, if you truly wish.”

No arguments here. The thought of having the walk that half hour back to the stable only made your body tense with the phantom aches from over-exertion. Your half awake brain didn’t really comprehend the consequences of your actions in that moment as you slowly moved your body to comfortably lay within the hand of the Great Fairy, eyes shutting to block out the ethereal glows of the fairies.

“Okay,” You yawned once more, “But only for a little bit.”

What a fucking liar.

You felt Kaysa move you closer. “(Name)?”

“Mm-hm?”

“What is something you wish to have? For your journey ahead?”

You cuddled into the warmth of her hand, pulling your blanket closer to your face. “I guess….I wish I was stronger…and braver….maybe get a cool sword….”

Kaysa giggled. “A good wish.”

Your consciousness quickly faded out as you fell back asleep, the fairy watching you happily as your body further relaxed into her palm with your breathing evening out to a slow but steady rhythm.

Kaysa sighed, gathering her magic from deep within her and bringing it forth, her lips glowing with her power as she brought your sleeping body closer to her and carefully planted a kiss onto your head. Your body glowed in response, sparkles of her magic flying off you like smoke into the night before finally retreating away.

“May this blessing of strength and courage stay with you forevermore.”

Gilda still sat with you, looking over your body with saddened eyes before turning back to Kaysa, her tone timid. “...Do you think they’ll ever remember?”

Kaysa frowned. “I’m not sure, little one.”

“They don’t think they’re the Guide.” Gilda gently brushed your cheek with her hand, looking over your face with delicate warmth. “But…it has to be them.”

“And it is.”

Kaysa’s hand raised further into the dark sky, lifting you towards the twinkling stars. There was nothing before there was something, the stars flashing softly in the expanse of the night just as the spot where your heart laid began to glow, similarly to the light of the Guide that the many heroes once possessed.

“Only the stars would seek out their presence like this.”

----------

“Where are they!?”

The scene the following morning wasn’t a pretty one. The Hero of Wind almost regretted waking up, his eyes reflecting his grogginess as he blinked in an action to wake himself up when he noticed the tension that seemed to perpetrate the room. Confused, the boy glanced around to see the mess: Wild looked frantic as he paced, Sky and Four chatted nervously in the corner glancing towards the eldest three- Time, once again, looked angry beyond belief while Twilight and Warriors tried to calm him down with Legend looking almost smug just beside their leader. Hyrule was also nowhere to be found.

One glance to your sleep mat showed the sailor the source of the problem- only nursing puppies and their tired mother lay there.

Wind blinked. “This is a problem for later me.”

He turned in his sleep mat and shut his eyes.

The many patrons of the stable glanced around to one another, almost telepathically sharing their confusion and slight discomfort of the scene. To wake up to such a disaster of a scenario probably wasn’t high on their list of chores that day, especially the poor stablehands needing to be ready for work, but unfortunately it seemed as if fate had other plans.

Time brought hands to his face and dragged them down, his scarred eye showing in distaste of the situation. “Can I have at least one day without one problem?”

Legend huffed, almost triumphantly. “As I said, they weren’t to be trusted-”

“Veteran!” Time snapped, everyone in the room tensing in surprise at the pure anger in his voice as he glared an obvious tired eye at him. “Now is not the time.”

The Hero of Legend looked to his feet quietly.

“Do we know where the traveller went?”

“No, he was gone as soon as I woke up.”

“Same here.”

“He woke me.” Wild muttered, frantic and well, wild, as he continued to walk up and down the room- his steps nearly leaving marks in the floorboards. “He left as soon as he did.”

Twilight turned to him, exasperated. “Why didn’t you say that?”

“I woke you, didn’t I?”

And thus began an argument-

“Will you all be silent!?”

Not even this quietness could be called silence. It had almost sucked the noise out of the space, not even a pin would be heard in this absence of sound- almost as if time itself had stopped. No one moved, no one dared breathe too loud, everyone simply made themselves as small as possible as the Hero of Time sucked in a deep breath.

“We are going to find them.” He started, gritting it out from behind his teeth. “And we are going to do it now-”

“No need.”

Everyone turned to the front, even Embry behind his desk to see both you and Hyrule at the open doorway of the stable, Gilda seated on your shoulder. You didn’t look quite ready to step into the mess but your face also showed a new sense of determination that no one had seen you wear before.

“The fairy fountain. I was at the fairy fountain- we had a chat and then I fell asleep. I should have said something but honestly I wasn’t even in my right mind when I woke up. It won’t happen again.”

Hyrule’s hand gently squeezed your own, encouragingly, as silence once again took over the room. The patrons and workers of the stable watched the scene, a live action soap opera right before their very eyes which had finally grabbed their full interest as they patiently waited for the next few moments.

Time began to slowly advance towards you. Twilight reached out to him, as did Warriors, Wild seemed to trip over himself then literally tripped over his own pillow to get over to you first. The stable’s own retriever raised her head, the lips of her muzzle pulled back with a threatening growl that caused the eldest to pause in his stride but even she shrunk when his gaze fell to her before he continued and finally stood before you.

Your bladder threatened to release its contents down your legs but you stood firm, making sure to stare right back into his eyes. The milky white of his scarred eye sent a shiver down your spine, accompanied by the Fierce Deity’s markings was sure a dynamic duo to boot, flashes of a certain Kokiri boy with a mask that held unimaginable power going through your head until you released Hyrule’s own hand to reach out and gently grab Time’s- the old man’s eyes widening for a split second as you brought it closer to you.

“I’m sorry, Link.” You didn’t look away, keeping eye contact. “I’m sorry if I worried you- I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

He raised a brow, “Try?”

“I think you know better than I do that you really can’t control what happens next.”

Hyrule glanced over to you with a mixed expression and you tried not to flinch at your own stupidity.

WHAT KIND OF STUPID FUCKING SHIT IS THAT!? DO YOU KNOW WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO!?!??!?!

Time took a deep breath in.

Then let a deep breath out.

“Yes. Yes I do.” You released his hand, letting him turn back towards the group that looked upon you three with a horror of too many lifetimes. “I apologise for my outburst, that was no way to act.”

When he walked away Hyrule leaned closer to you, his voice just above a whisper. “That was very brave of you-”

“I think I nearly pissed my fucking pants.”

----------

Breakfast was once again awkward, the whole morning was just not right. You felt guilt for once again bringing such an atmosphere to the table but then again that just seemed to follow you everywhere. Such luck, it seemed, followed you around like dog shit at the bottom of a shoe.

It was a slightly tense goodbye to the workers, the Hylian retriever didn’t seem to want to let you go and followed until she was called back. You waved to her, calling a sweet ‘good girl!’ that had her tail wagging excitedly and her howling a storm until finally you were too far to see her again. She would be missed.

You were glad that these men were able to create conversation out of nothing once you were on the road again, the atmosphere light enough to share laughs and stories as you trekked closer to the intimidating behemoth that was Digdogg Suspension Bridge- a natural formation of the land that literally did bridge Gerudo Canyon to Central Hyrule accompanied by slabs of wood, made to be kept sturdy.

It was a large drop to the water below and your skin crawled nervously before Wild tugged you back.

“I think you’ve had enough wandering today.” He joked, only slightly comedic as he smiled at your scowl and patted you on the back. “Stick close, okay?”

You chuckled, “I’m not going to keep disappearing, don’t worry.”

Hyrule sent you a deadpan. “I’m not sure if we can trust you on that.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault I’m wanted by an insane dark version of you guys.”

Your boots clicked and clacked on the wooden bridge, the slight glow of Dah Kaso Shrine peaking through the cracks of the boards gently from its small island just beneath you.

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t wander off, dummy.” Wind poked his tongue out at you, a mischievous spark in his eyes. “You’ll be safer with us!”

“Yeah, as if trouble doesn’t follow you around every corner-”

Your body was near thrown to the ground, your face planting into the rough dirt with a pained grunt as another body quickly covered your own. The air was briefly knocked from your lungs. A curse sat loosely on your tongue, threatening to escape you before men shouting caught your attention, Epona’s frightened neigh was almost deafening as the body atop you pushed off abruptly and a gloved hand hurriedly tugged you up.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Your world spun as you were yanked to your feet, falling into Wild’s chest with panicked eyes that only grew worse when you noticed the arrow lodged deep into his shoulder. “Blood- where did the blood-”

“That’s your blood!” You yelled, shoving your hands against the wound in an effort to stop the oozing maroon from further spilling. “You’re fucking bleeding! Oh my fucking god!”

Oh God, oh God, oh God-

What was happening!?

Where did the fucking arrow-

“Hello heroes.”

#linked universe #lu #linked universe x reader #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 8 months

Text

Spiderman Society and Manipulation Part 1

Okay! I had been wanting to do this post for a while, while I don't think we can flat out call the Spiderman Society a cult, the reality is that the more you look at it, the more twisted and crazy the spider society becomes.

I had seen a lot of people complain about the spiders in the society (specially on Gwen,) of how they could let this happen and how could actually believe is a good idea to let people die. And I don't think a lot of these people realize that the organization is operating in a way that is made to manipulate people, and things are far more complicated that what you may realize.

I would estate now that a lot of the things that fall under Cult behaviours are kind of inevitable by the nature of the organization.

I also want to emphasize that I DON'T THINK MIGUEL IS EVIL, or is even aware of the damage he is doing by the way he is running this operation. I truly believe there is no one who believes more in this than him, and all he does is for the common good.

And he is so focused on that goal he doesn't realize the damage he is doing.

WARNING: The following discussion will involve talking about Cults, psychological manipulation, controlling behaviours and such. If you think these topics may be a trigger for you, please consider skipping this.

Levels of Information

It hasn't been flat out say, but you can see in the movie that there are levels to the amount of information each Spider has on the organization.

Pavitr is aware that the Spider's society duty is to stop villains and beings from other dimensions from breaking havoc; these people ended up there by accident and need to be contained and sent to their respective universes.

However, he also says "I can do both," meaning that he has to be unaware about living in a canon event, and most probably, the existence of canon events.

Hobie also, seems to be in a somewhat of an intermediate level.

Here, Hobie says how he actually doesn't have much of an idea of what's going on with the organization.

However, he does appear to know more than Pav and Miles.

Here Hobie confirms that he knows that Miles is an anomaly. At least that's the impression he gave me considering the circumstances.

Now, we need to balance a few possibilities here.

Hobie being aware of anomalies but not canon events isn't exactly the weirdest concept; anomalies are entities from another universes coming in, which is of course, not suppose to be normal occurrence in any universe. Miles being bitten by a spider from another dimension would make him an anomaly just for that alone.

Hobie didn't seem particularly surprised when the canon events conversation came up, but I can buy that 1) He knows how to hide his emotions well, which would make sense if his universe is anything similar to what it is in his comics, 2) He may had suspected something like this was going on with the information he has at hand.

This also makes sense with his character, because I am sorry but I really cannot believe Hobie knew Pav was going to go through something traumatic, and would just let Pavitr suffer. ESPECIALLY for something Miguel says.

There is the possibility that he knows about anomalies from Gwen and not the organization itself, this would track considering he has admitted that the only reason he has been hanging around is because he wants to look after Gwen; and probably Pavitr too. He seems to be the type of person who looks after more vulnerable, young people. Which is pretty punk of him.

I could also believe Gwen at least telling Hobie about anomalies, because they are close friends (FRIENDS, look I like this ghostpunk and other ships because I am like that, but in the movie is obvious Hobie just seems Gwen as a friend. Again, don't bother shippers.) And because Gwen would obviously be upset about not being able to visit Miles, and venting to Hobie (who for sure would not rat her to Miguel, and would understand her situation.) As well as explaining the reasoning of the situation.

Why would she explain that? Well, because she needs to justify this still making sense, being the good guys.

Remember, Gwen ended here not just because she wanted to be with other spiders, but because she thought her home wasn't safe anymore. She needs to justify this being worth it because she is a traumatized teen with not a lot of support and is trying to cope with it until the reality exploits her in the face.

But probably that's a conversation that is better for another day.

I don't think people are realize how absolutely TRUE this rings for Cults.

Independently if this is a religious or other type of cult (because yes, not all of them are religious;) something that tends to happen is that there are levels to what people know; and the longer and more loyal you are to a cult, the more they let you in.

In fact, the loyalty thing is sometimes more important than time; if they see you are committed enough to one level, they may let you in the next bit of information.

This is because most cults start trying to say pretty reasonably things, a lot of them involved the common good and the possibility of a better life; and then the more they convince you to some ideas, the more they let you in the crazy stuff that is actually underneath. And this is on purpose, because a lot of people wouldn't had stayed too long if they knew the bat shit crazy information from the get go.

So they intentionally manipulated you into thinking their side of things first, and then they try to become your new support network and community.

You wouldn't believe an stranger, but your new family, or I don't know, new organization, who welcomes you in when you have nowhere to go, and offer to guide you in a way you desperately wanted help but never had the chance- Why you wouldn't believe them?

Well, I am getting ahead of myself.

This is how you get cults like Scientology, where at first people only had a vague idea of what was going on, until some people got in deep enough to extract some information and reveal to the world how nuts a lot of this sounds.

Preying on those facing difficult times

I will probably had someone mad at me because this title and choosing this particular screenshoot can feel a bit like a reach, but hear me out.

Yes, I understand that neither Miguel nor Jess had bad intentions when they ask her to join, in fact Jess seemed fully worried about Gwen because she had no one.

But again, Jess and Miguel aren't in this to manipulate people for their evil schemes, they fully believe all of the philosophies they are preaching.

While Gwen's case is the most extreme (that we are aware of at least,) this really rings my alarm bells WAY too much if you ask me.

Because of things like this:

Say what you want about the commitment Miguel has with his mission, I am not saying saving the multiverse isn't important (though it would help if Miguel had bothered to double check his theory,) but if you talk to someone who has lived in an abusive household, ask exactly what it did for their mental health being afraid of fucking up because they may get you kick out.

(It's figurative speech, if you have the chance learn about it but don't ask anyone who isn't comfortable talking about the subject.)

Let me tell you something; living afraid of what would happen to you just for existing is not a walk in the park, and while I don't think Gwen is truly walking on eggshells with Miguel; it cannot be easy knowing in the back of your mind that if you mess up badly enough, you will end up in a place where you may risk ending in prison, being homeless, or that your mere presence may make someone you love die.

(After all, technically; ASM-90 can't happen if Spider-Gwen isn't there to fight anyone, right? Yeah I wonder what exactly Miguel would had done about that.)

You saw the amount of spider-people this society has, you also know how spider-man stories work; no freaking way Gwen is the only one in this situation. Maybe Gwen is the one who's situation is most at stake considering Miguel was already wary of her for her relationship with Miles; however I can't imagine that if let's say, a spider doesn't want to go along with a canon event, they wouldn't let them stay.

"But OP! Miguel is just trying to be practical, you can't pretend he let people stay if they are putting in risk the mission."

Yeah here is what I have to say to that: Is absolutely horrible to let this scenario exist in the first place.

There is plenty of resources here; the Spider Society HQ has a weird architecture that couldn't had been cheap, all because is made for spider-people in mind. The place is HUGE, he is on the surface world (because unless I see evidence of otherwise, I bet my laptop that the underworld city is where crime and people without too many resources need to go, for not being able to afford the surface.) Not to mention all the technology they have should open to more possibilities, right? If not health wise (Miguel's world is probably more medically advanced that the ones of many other spiders, for example.)

There is no way, resources couldn't be use to help other spiders. I say it before, I find ludicrous that Jess, Miguel or someone else couldn't talk some sense into Captain Stacy. Or that someone could be supporting Gwen better in an emotional sense, because that poor teen needs some type of parental figure in her life and none of them have interest in it. Which again, is fine, but if you know there is this issue, as an adult who decided to take this teen, you should find someone willing to do it!

I do not give a shit that they are super heroes, is plain as day that Gwen has issues, and is looking for someone older and wiser to be there for her; I am not saying Jess should had done it because I can't blame her for not wanting that role, but if you can't do it and for some reason can't talk some sense into his dad, find someone!

Yes, there is a psych spider-man, but that is clearly not doing enough. Heck I wouldn't be surprised if the guy wasn't even good (like I get that he is a spidey and that he hears these stuff constantly, but imagine telling something that is traumatic to you, and your psych can't give less of a shit or even be sensible about the subject.)

They have these people in a choke hold, either obey, or you would get kicked out to horrible conditions.

I had been reading a few comics; Gwen's world SUCKS, if her world is half as bad as it is in the comics, I wouldn't want her going back, period. Peni also has some horrible circumstances; (her situation is better in the after school saga, but still.) I can't imagine how many others are in this exact boat.

Because is not just that this place is providing a safe heaven for Spiders, is also a community.

Spider-people tend to be lonely, a lot of them are in worlds where they are the only super hero, keeping this a secret for the safety of their love ones.

So you are telling these people who are normally abused in some way or another, who suffer from the loneliness of this job; that unless they behave and obey, they will lose the only community where they can be themselves, where they can ask for help, or have a place to rest.

And I can already see people typing angrily about the multiverse and it's well being, and let me put it this way: In the real world, if an organization (not just a company, but charities and such,) ends up having a work space that puts an unnecessary level of stress and fear for the people in it; wouldn't you be mad about it?

So why exactly I shouldn't want Miguel, someone that should be a good guy, care for the people that he has under his command? Wouldn't make sense that the people that need to take care of the multiverse are doing mentally well, considering that putting that type of strain in someone can also affect how they do their job effectively?

"But Miguel is not thinking about those things, he is focused to the cause! He just has his priorities, and wants his subordinates to understand how important is this too."

Hmm. So what I am hearing is that Miguel wants everyone to be ready to let whoever is necessary die, if not kill (because you cannot tell me Miguel "I don't always like what I have to do." O' Hara hasn't done it.) And leave everything behind for the cause, no feelings involved; and wants teens and young people who had no business being this pressured to do it as well.

Yeah this is not the argument you think it is. There is enough money, resources and people that there is no way this couldn't be run better, but is not.

But I feel I had gone long enough without bringing other sources into the table; so let's start with that shall we?

Understanding Cults: The Basics - Psychology Today

Isn't an interesting coincidence how this fits EXACTLY what happened to Gwen, to a T?

Is approached to, not even shown interested in joining on her own. Look at that screenshot from earlier, Gwen says "I don't know how to fix this," she wants to fix THIS, the things with her dad, to make her situation less messy.

She doesn't know what she is getting into, she doesn't even know that she will not be able to visit Miles yet. Much less canon and all that jazz.

Think about it for a second, Miguel sees a teen who has her own dad try to SHOOT HER, and what he sees is "well, another recruit." Tell me that it isn't a bit fucked up.

You could try to argue that Miguel offered his place so she could have a shelter, except that no, that's not what happens.

This happens after her dad already tried to shoot her, he may had stopped it, but he wasn't interested in recruiting her, not even after Jess is trying to convince him to let her in.

You know what happens? She says "I don't know how to fix this."

That's the catalyst.

I thought of finding a way to explain how, but honestly someone did a MUCH better job than me already.

Miguel's DESTRUCTIVE Idea of "SPIDER-MAN"

If anyone is bothered by me not leaving the explanation behind Miguel's reasoning, is because this conversation isn't about Miguel's mental health and reasoning. Because that's not excuse for this mess regardless.

The point is: Miguel wants people to help him fix this mess, and even if the logical conclusion here would be helping her out with her situation rather than just include her into this mess; Miguel isn't thinking about that.

I will not say is malicious in any way, heck he may think he is doing her a favour like this, but that's another problem, not an excuse. He is so focused on his goal that he leaves behind the well-being of his subordinates.

Which is a problem, by any measure you want to give it.

Let's go back to the sources shall we?

With this at hand, let's review

Do they enlist people without giving the entire story of what's is going on and deceptive ideas? Yes.

Because they enlist people saying they need them to help save more people and the universe, WITHOUT mentioning that some of YOUR love ones need to die.

I feel on this angle, I had already mentioned enough in the rest of the post.

It is authoritarian, with a leader that is controlling? Well what if we see the evidence?

Look how many angles he has here, is not even all of them, there was another with Gwen in another shot. I am not sure what type of camera or device he is using for this, but wouldn't you find it disturbing if your boss had THIS amount of footage of you while walking on your company?

It gets worse.

He is spying them in their downtime.

You could make the argument he had the right to watch over Gwen because she was technically on duty at that moment (it doesn't make it less creepy and honestly unless you are like a cop, I can't imagine too many jobs where is a good idea to have something record what you do at any moment.)

Except that you can see in the superior corner, that he has a video of Hobie playing; he doesn't have his mask so this is clearly not a mission. He is spying on people even OFF the clock.

Do any of you seriously think is a coincidence he did this with Gwen and Hobie, the "problematic" spideys?

Do you think Gwen and Hobie even know to the degree they are being watched?

(Sidenote, Miguel apparently has been looking over Hobie, yet seems unaware that he is making his own watches apparently, and maybe to which extend he steals. Hobie is so smart he fooled Miguel just like that. Another reason why Hobie is the best.)

You know something that bothers me about this? Is why is Gwen asking this?

Gwen is supposedly in the loop, she knows about canon, she knows about the ASM-90, but she is asking this, as if she hasn't been given that hard proof either.

Which goes back to the lack of transparency, but for this part of the discussion, the important thing is what Miguel does next.

Doesn't answer her question, menacingly towers over her until she almost falls back, and then kicks her out.

Do you notice the interesting part about this? He wasn't planning to sent her home, until she QUESTIONED his logic.

It wasn't about she going to see Miles, it wasn't about messing up with the spot; if it was about that he would had decided to get rid of her earlier, even the second she spoke her mind would had justified it, making it remember she was there.

Yet is not until she asks that, that suddenly Miguel decides this is enough.

Wouldn't you call that authoritative?

Let's go to the next part, the disrupt of personality; because maybe you think that's definitely not the case. Well...

You may read this and not think too much about it, but again, when you had been looking into cults and similar stuff before, this starts siren bells in your head as if he was talking about a doomsday.

Miguel is emphasizing how being Spider-man involves sacrifice, it involves pain and losing love ones. And you need to be okay with that.

You can see with Miguel that he prioritizes the job above everything else, he says that much himself really. And he expects everyone else to prioritize it too.

Sure, Peter is a loving father with clearly time for his daughter, Jess is pregnant; but you cannot tell me that if a canon event involved Peter losing his daughter, or Jess losing her kid; Miguel would say something different.

He expects people to follow canon events no matter how painful it is, and his justification for it is that it is part of the job that you signed for, so you need to be okay with this.

Because being a spider-person and the job should be above all else, don't you think that involves forcing an identity onto you so you obey better? Because you are first spider-woman over being Gwen Stacy, for example?

Tell me how much of this applies to the Spider Society, because for what I had gathered? None of this is allowed.

People aren't allowed to interact with who they want (like Gwen being obviously forbidden of seeing Miles,) if you question the leadership you may be kicked out; not complete information until you had proven trustworthy or there is no other choice.

And something interesting about all of this, is that is technically not just preying on the people with difficult circumstances like Gwen, though that is bad enough. But funnily enough...this all also uses the trauma and guilt of its eldest members to justify their actions.

BUT, I think that would go better with a part 2! I feel the topic while part of this discussion, deserves it's own post, specially since I will talk a bit about why I think Miguel believes so far in this theory, even if the evidence shows is flawed.

Look, I really, REALLY, don't want to call the Spider Society a cult; I don't even think the writers had that in mind when they did this; they just wanted to show that Miguel was flawed.

And is for sure, not as bad as other things that I had seen, things that had happened in real life.

However, this isn't a good look, this organization checks way too many boxes, enough to effectively give psychological damage; I can assure if this wasn't a super hero movie Gwen and other people will have to go through therapy for this. Heck even if this trilogy has a happy ending I wouldn't be surprised if the people need some psychological help once they realize they did horrible shit for nothing.

I feel there is another things, minor details that could qualify, but those feels almost nitpicky and inconsequential compared to the rest, and what some of what is left..

I don't think I need to give more reasons anyways; the Spider Society is harmful to their people, feel free to think otherwise but I cannot see an operation with this many red flags and not call it how I see it.

I don't know what's worse, this, or the fact that is not the worse thing I think Miguel has done.

But that's everything for now! Hope you guys like it, and if you have the chance, please donate on my ko-fi or share this post!

#atsv files #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o' hara #spider society #gwen stacy #jessica drew #hobie brown #miles morales

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 9 months

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Comet Donati [Chapter 7: Heart Attack]

A/N: Hello all! Only 3 chapters left!!! 🥰 Thank you so much for loving this fic and giving all my eccentric AU ideas a chance. I’m currently in Washington DC visiting one of my best friends, so if I’m a little bit tardy replying to your comments/messages then that’s why. Don’t fear!! I will check in as soon as I can, and I am still amazed by and will forever cherish your support. 💜

Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.

Chapter Warnings: Language, references to sexual content (+18), drugs, alcohol, smoking, Shelby being a bigger plague than the locusts of Egypt, mental health struggles, references to violence and abuse, New Jersey, pregnancy, mini golf, lots of content for the Cregan girlies.

Selected Chapter Quote: “We’re meant to be together. We have so much history.”

Word count: 6.2k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @doingfondue @catalina-howard @randomdragonfires @myspotofcraziness @arcielee @fan-goddess @talesofoldandnew @marvelescvpe @tinykryptonitewerewolf @mariahossain @chainsawsangel @darkenchantress @not-a-glad-gladiator @gemini-mama @trifoliumviridi @herfantasyworldd @babyblue711 @namelesslosers @thelittleswanao3 @daenysx @moonlightfoxx @libroparaiso @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @mizfortuna @florent1s @heimtathurs @bhanclegane @poohxlove @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @heavenly1927 @mariahossain @echos-muses @padfooteyes @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis @juliavilu1 @amiraisgoingthruit @lauraneedstochill @wintrr13 @r0segard3n @seabasscevans @tsujifreya

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

You type into Google as you hide in the public bathroom stall, pink tile walls and mint green porcelain, very 1950s, phantom drips of water and humming florescent lights: Can Plan B make your period late?

You scroll through the results, clutching your iPhone with both hands. Faintly, you can hear the rest of the band outside, chattering, laughing, slurping on Slush Puppies, smacking trees and rocks with their golf clubs. Yes, the consensus seems to be; Plan B can delay your period. Incidentally, so can pregnancy.

“Fuck,” you whimper. You peer down at your panties, as if you can force bloodstains to appear: sparce rosy threads of warning, dark red splotches like rust, you aren’t particular. You’ll take anything. “Fuck,” you say again, defeated. You get dressed, wash your hands, and head back out into the cloudless afternoon sunshine.

“Stargirl, it’s your turn!” Aegon shouts as you trot over to them: tenth hole, shaped like an L, featuring an intimidating loop de loop. The course is dinosaur themed; Rhaena picked it. Aegon points to Jace. “This deformed bastard wanted to skip you.”

“I told you,” Jace moans. His speech is garbled and lisping, his face comically swollen, bruised yellow-emerald-indigo and drooling blood, stitches above his left eyebrow. He just had his dental implants placed yesterday; the four teeth that he lost at Club Camelot could not be readily located for reattachment. “I can’t keep track of who’s next. I’m on like four different opiates.”

Baela frets over him. “Shh, shh, baby. Try not to talk.” There’s something about watching someone get almost-murdered that makes you want to forgive them, you suppose.

You grab your club and golf ball, dark blue, from where you left them by a tree. Rhaena gives you a covert little thumbs up and raised eyebrows. Everything good? You smile—too widely, insincere, a liar—and nod. Technically, you have yet to obtain concrete evidence to the contrary.

You take your turn, somewhat awkwardly due to the splint that still encumbers your dominant hand. You are thinking about anything but mini golf. Your ball goes halfway through the loop de loop and then comes rolling back. How many strokes? Four, five, you lose count, it doesn’t matter. Aegon is snickering, though not in a mean way, never in a mean way. Aemond is watching you. He does this constantly; you can feel his eyes—river water, otherworldly atmosphere—on you all the time, you can see him on the periphery of your vision. But when you glance at Aemond, he looks away. You’re wearing flip flops, a black NSYNC t-shirt, and bright pink shorts that Baela insists are of the very short variety. Aemond is staring a little extra hard today. Shelby alternates between glaring at him and at you.

Jace putts next. He misses the ball twice. On the third try, he hits it into a nearby pond. Golden koi fish scatter beneath the rippling sheen of the water.

“Loser,” Aegon declares mildly. “Criston, why the fuck are we in New Jersey?”

“Because you’re playing three shows at the MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford,” Criston says as he putts; his green golf ball sails through the loop de loop, bounces off a wall, and then rolls straight into the cup, a hole in one. “One Direction did it, Taylor Swift did it, and now you’re going to do it too. And if you don’t make it too unbearable for me, I’ll even take you to the beach while we’re here. Okay?”

“Okay,” Aegon agrees. He slurps on his Slush Puppie. “Oh, Aemond, I need the Netflix password.”

“You forgot it again?!” Daeron says. Jace, groaning softly, lies down on the ground in a patch of shade. Baela gets a bottle of Orajel rinse out of her purse and starts pouring it into his mouth.

“Get your own account,” Aemond snaps at Aegon. “I think you can afford it.”

“Bruh, that’s not the point! I don’t know where I left off in Grey’s Anatomy!”

They keep bickering. You stop listening. You can only hear the sounds of rustling leaves, squawking seagulls, the whistling of the warm August wind. You can only feel the weight of Aemond’s half-fascinated, half-resentful gaze on you. He wouldn’t believe me, you think. If I really am pregnant, he would never believe that it was an accident. He would never believe that I was that guilelessly, unambitiously stupid. Hell, I did it and I barely believe it.

You steal a glimpse of Aemond—black shirt and black sunglasses, white shorts, Adidas sneakers—and he turns away, pretending to pick dirt off his golf ball. Interestingly, he will talk to you about things not related to that night in Tokyo; perhaps it would be too suspicious not to, a neon sign for the rest of the band to read. But he never allows himself to be alone with you. And he never touches you, not even a grazing of hands or an absentminded bump as he passes you in aisles or hallways.

Bump, you think miserably. An inauspicious choice of words.

“We should watch Se7en,” Aegon is saying now. “Comet fam movie night.”

You mutter: “We’re not watching Se7en.”

“What’s Se7en about?” Rhaena asks.

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“What’s in the box?!” Aegon shouts dramatically—quoting the beautiful yet doomed David Mills, a name he once borrowed to schedule a Zoom meeting with you—and then cackles. It’s his turn. He clobbers his golf ball and sends it flying through the loop de loop; it pops over the barrier and disappears into a bush. Startled squirrels dart out of the leaves.

“Loser!” Jace slurs as he lies sprawled across the ground, vindicated.

“Stop spitting blood everywhere,” Aemond says. He putts next, and badly: poor depth perception. “You’re getting it on my sneakers.”

“Watch it, cyclops.” Jace points to his own stitches, bruises, surgically replaced teeth. “I let you have this one. Now we’re even. But next time I won’t be so charitable.”

“You’re not even,” Aegon tells Jace, abruptly severe. He whips off his aviator sunglasses, crouches over Jace, glaring and thunderous like a storm. Baela observes this warily. “Not even close.”

Jace is intrigued. “No?”

“No. Your face will heal.” Then Aegon pokes him in the jaw and Jace screams, tears slithering down his puffy, mottled cheeks. Cregan yanks Aegon away before Baela can scratch his eyes out. Criston repossesses Aegon’s blue raspberry Slush Puppie as punishment. Luke wins the game, five under par.

Comet’s first shows in the United States this tour start just like the last few in Asia: Jace is iced, painted with concealer, thoroughly medicated, numbed into semi-consciousness. He does lines of coke in the bathroom under Cregan’s supervision. He can’t perform without it. Criston tried to negotiate a month off for Jace, but the label’s message was clear: get him on stage, we don’t care how you do it, we don’t want to know about it, here’s a blank check, figure it out or we’ll find another manager who can. Now Criston watches Jace with his arms crossed over his chest, his dark eyes wounded and anxious, his shoulders slumped beneath the weight of what he believes is failure.

The story released to the press is that Jace fell down a flight of stairs but is recovering smoothly. He can barely sing; his mic is turned up, and during Jace’s verses Cregan or Luke layer their voice with his. He wobbles and flubs his way through Night 1 in East Rutherford. You spend the show staring up at the stage without seeing it. Baela and Rhaena are with you, but you aren’t really with them; you feel like if they reached out to touch you, their hands would find only translucent emptiness like a mirage. Shelby is flocked by fellow influencers that she’s invited in from New York City. Aemond is somewhere, somewhere: lurking in shadows, brooding, avoiding, musing, suffering, jotting down starlight-colored judgments in his black-paged notebook.

Per tradition, the band and their entourage coalesce in Jace’s suite after the show. Jace himself, the gracious host, promptly collapses on a couch and lies there senseless as the party spins around him like the planets of a solar system. Baela is perched dutifully beside him, holding ice packs to his jaw, wiping away drool the color of one of Aemond’s Brambles. A tattoo artist is inking a goldfinch, New Jersey’s state bird, to the top of Jace’s right foot. Criston is across the room and speaking—rather tensely, it seems—with cigar-smoking label executives. Shelby is snapping photos with her friends; they take turns posing each other out on the balcony, adjusting elbows and wrists and knees, swiping away stray flecks of mascara, rearranging hair, recommending plastic surgeons. Aegon is typing WhatsApp messages—mostly emojis, from what you can see—to Miley Cyrus. At Luke’s prompting, Aemond begins sharing his comments to the presently sentient members of Comet. He puffs on one of his Benson & Hedges cigarettes as he reads aloud. He kindly skips over any criticisms of Jace’s performance.

You can’t stand hearing Aemond’s voice; not because there’s anything wrong with it, but because there isn’t, because you can’t stop remembering what he said to you in that florescent-white bathroom at Club Camelot in Tokyo, because he uses his words on so many people who aren’t you, because sooner or later your time with Comet will be over and you’ll only ever hear him again through Spotify songs and YouTube clips from before the accident, because he will one day be a ghost who haunts you, rattling doorknobs and chilling pockets of air but never speaking. You escape to ask the bartender: “Can I get a Coke?”

“A rum and Coke?”

“No.”

“Like…white powder coke?”

“No, a Coca-Cola. With nothing else in it.”

“Okay, whatever,” the bartender says, perplexed. He fills a glass with ice and dark liquid that pops and fizzes with carbonation, then slides it across the counter to you. You meander out into the hallway where you can be alone, where you don’t have to pretend to be okay.

The carpet is gold but frayed, the walls adorned with faux marble columns and scuffs from recklessly handled suitcases. Even the hotels are worse in New Jersey. You sip your soda—nonalcoholic, huh? you think, then push it aside—and roam past suite doors and vending machines until you reach the cove of elevators. There’s a full-length mirror hanging on the wall there, gilded, gaudy. You frown at yourself, a reflection that suddenly looks a bit like a stranger. You’re wearing a short seafoam green dress, gold earrings and sandals, and an eerily vacuous expression. You turn and move your hair aside so you can peer over your shoulder at what’s been indelibly penned there since Rome: the tiny comet, the lyrics that encircle it.

I wanted to remember this band forever. To remember Aemond. You can feel your stomach drop as it grows heavy with dread. The pulsing music from Jace’s suite has followed you down the hall, Sugar by Robin Schulz and Francesco Yates. I think I might just have more than a tattoo to remember him by after all.

One of the elevators dings and opens. A man lumbers out, towering, broad, monstrous. You gape up at him: brown threadbare coat, heavy boots, unruly dark beard, grey eyes like a bleak winter sky. There is a miasma that colors the air around him with smoke and alcohol, sweat and earth.

“Hello there,” he says, politely enough. His voice is such a baritone rumble that it’s difficult to understand. He has a British accent, but not like Aegon’s, not like Aemond’s. He reminds you of someone you can’t quite place. “I’m looking for a certain young gentleman. I’m hoping you can point me in his direction.”

“Sure,” you reply, trying to disguise your shock so you don’t offend him. He could be someone important. He could be an eccentric producer or a consultant. Or a drug dealer. “Who…uh…who was it you were hoping to speak with…?”

He smiles: sharp canine teeth yellowed by nicotine, glinting eyes like silver coins. “Cregan Stark.”

“Okay,” you stammer. Drug dealer?? “Okay, okay, I’ll…uh…I’ll go get him.”

You hurry down the hall and into Jace’s crowded, smokey suite, clinking glasses and flirtatious titters in dim lighting like late twilight. You return your empty drink to the bartender, then tap Cregan on the shoulder and inform him that someone out in the hallway is asking for him. He doesn’t seem surprised to hear this. Drug dealer, you think confidently. Cregan gulps his vodka shot and follows you out of the suite. He steps through the doorway. He turns towards the stranger. And then he stops dead. His eyes go wide. The blood drains from his face. And Cregan—immovable, inscrutable, unflappable Cregan—shrinks until he is a child again.

Immediately, you know you’ve made a mistake. You reach for him. “Cregan, wait—”

“My son,” the monstrous man sighs. And of course now you’ve realized exactly who the mirrorlike grey of his eyes reminded you of. “My son.”

You can’t stop him. How could you stop him? Faster than you can think, he has crossed the space between you and entombed Cregan in a stifling embrace. Cregan stands paralyzed, his eyes shifting, searching for escape. Tentatively, appeasingly, his hands slowly rise to hug the man in return.

“Criston?!” you shout. But within the suite, he cannot hear you over the music and the berating of smoke-veiled, bejeweled label executives.

“Did you forget about me, huh?” the man asks Cregan gruffly. And as he steps back he grips one of Cregan’s shoulders: not like Criston would, not like a father, like a vice, like a bear trap. He shakes Cregan once, not too hard. “You can fly your private jet all over the world but you can’t call your own father back? Huh? Huh?!” He shakes Cregan again, harder.

“Criston!” you scream. “Security! Somebody!”

Nobody can hear me. Nobody is coming.

You sprint into Jace’s suite, seize Criston by one hand, drag him out into the hall. On the blurry periphery of your vision, you can see Aemond getting up off the couch to follow you. The second he spots the monstrous man, Criston is roaring. “No no no, get away from him!” He pushes between Cregan and the giant, terrifying, wrathful. The man dwarfs him. Criston doesn’t seem to know it. “You can’t be here. We’ve been over this, you’re not allowed to be here—”

The man tries to reach around him to clutch at Cregan’s shirt. Aemond pulls you away from the scuffle. Criston hits the man in the solar plexus; he is momentarily stunned, wheezing. By the time he straightens up, Criston—louder than you, bellowing and fierce—has summoned security. They are swarming the man and escorting him back down the hallway towards the elevators. Aemond goes to Cregan. Criston looks at you. You’re quivering, penitent.

“I had no idea…he asked for Cregan…I would never have…I thought maybe he was a friend of the band…”

“He’s on our no fly list,” Criston says. His voice is tired yet patient. “But you wouldn’t know that.”

You try to apologize to Cregan, but he isn’t listening to you. He’s listening to Aemond. Aemond is speaking to him, low and calm, too quietly for you to hear. “I’m okay,” Cregan says unsteadily. “I’m fine.”

“It’s alright if you’re not,” Aemond tells him.

And you know that right now you are unnecessary, intrusive. Criston goes downstairs to figure out how Comet’s security guards in the lobby didn’t catch this and—presumably—to ensure that the invader is properly dealt with. Aemond slings an arm across Cregan’s shoulders and leads him back to the party where he is cared for, welcome, valued, safe. You hide in your own suite and try not to think about the dates on the calendar—missing blood, summer days ticking down towards zero—as you steep in a hot bath and attempt to scrub everything you’ve done wrong, today, yesterday, ever, off your skin. Then you change into an oversized Backstreet Boys t-shirt and your favorite Cookie Monster pajama pants.

You try to sleep but of course you can’t, surrounded by a silence that only gets louder. When you hear the swipe of a keycard and the creaking of your door, you don’t know who to expect: Cregan, Criston, Rhaena, Luke, Baela, Jace, Daeron, Shelby, Aemond, ghosts. The clopping of his Crocs gives him away, neon pink to match his tank top. “I’m really not in the mood for anything resembling sex.”

Aegon replies as he kicks off his Crocs: “Did I ask, succubus?” He crawls into the bed, throws an arm casually across your waist, rests his head on your belly as your fingers thread through his chaotic blond hair, fond and tender. He burrows into you, into your softness and your warmth and your truth and your mysteries. Sometimes you feel like you’ll give until he falls into you like a trapdoor, the bones of his hands tangling around your spine, his blood vessels spilling into all of your rage-scarlet cavities, hollows of the flesh, hollows of the soul. “You’re sad.”

You stare up at the ceiling. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what. That’s the strange thing. Usually I can tell.”

“You’ve been gone.”

He looks up at you, confused. “I’ve been right here.”

“You know what I meant.”

Aegon doesn’t argue with you, doesn’t try to defend himself, doesn’t make promises both of you know he could never keep. He only lays his head down on your belly again and pulls himself closer to you, closer, closer, melting into your melancholy, dissolving into dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I was eleven when he broke my arm. Thirteen when he cracked my skull for the first time. Then I got big enough to hurt him back.” Cregan looks out over the waves: blue currents, white froth, sunbeams like glinting blades. As Criston promised, Comet is spending an afternoon in Seaside Heights. You and Cregan are sitting on the sand together twenty yards from the others. “I grew up in a two-bedroom cabin with no electricity or running water. We had a metal wash tub outside, ate deer and squirrels and rabbits, never had clothes that fit, never saw a doctor except when what was wrong might kill us. We had a woodstove and chopped down trees to burn in the winter. I had eight siblings, six of whom are still alive. Barnett overdosed. Courtland drove his friend’s Nissan into a brick wall. I’m not sure it was accidental.”

Your words are soft like a whisper, like gentle hands. “Cregan, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not…” His voice breaks. He stops for a while, composes himself, begins again. “It’s not something I talk about. Not because I’m trying to forget it. I can’t forget it, I’ll never be able to, I understand that, believe me. There’s just nothing to be gained from talking about it. I never feel better afterwards. I always feel worse.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?”

You wait, watching him. There’s something he needs to say. Down the beach a ways, Baela is doing yoga, her bare feet sure and agile in shifting sand. Rhaena, Luke, and Aemond are flying kites in the breeze: black dragons, green dragons. Shelby is, predictably, filming them from where she stands on Aemond’s good side. Aegon and Daeron are swimming so far out that you’re beginning to worry about sharks. Criston is parked under an umbrella with an unconscious Jace, reading Memoirs Of A Geisha and eating a sandwich full of something called pork roll.

“After Comet happened, I got all of them out,” Cregan continues. “My mum, my siblings. Good houses in safe neighborhoods. Security in case Dad makes an appearance. He does, every once in a while. He’s locked up, he’s free, he’s locked up again. He has nothing else to do but haunt us. I’ve been waiting for him to die since I was old enough to understand what a graveyard is.” Cregan looks at you. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No,” you answer immediately.

“The thing is…” He holds out one large hand, palm down, like he’s resting it on a table. Then he shakes it. “Nothing ever feels stable. Nothing ever feels safe. No matter how much money I see stack up in accounts, I lie awake at night wondering what I’ll do if it disappears. So many people rely on me. I can’t stop worrying I’ll end up back in that cabin somehow. I can still hear drops of rainwater seeping in through the gaps in the roof. I can still smell burning wood.”

“The fact that you feel this way, given your history, is completely logical…even if the fear itself is not. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Cregan says. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Do you think it would help if we sat down and looked at the numbers and did some math? Because I suspect that even with a hundred dependents, you’d easily be able to float them for the rest of your lifetime just using the money you already have. And there will be royalties from Comet’s songs forever. Maybe if we can show you exactly how improbable your worst case scenario is, that fear will begin to fade a bit. Not go away, not completely, maybe not ever…but I think you’ll be able to quiet it down.”

“I’ll give it a try. If you recommend it.” Cregan lights a cigarette and takes a drag. Criston glances over and then pretends he didn’t notice. “I have a daughter,” Cregan says; and you can’t stop the shock from hitting your face like a fist. He smiles faintly, wistfully. “I know. I’ve worked very hard to make sure she is kept away from…” He gestures broadly. “All of this.” Fame. Debauchery. Tabloids. Reddit threads. “I was way too young. And her mother and I…we were never really together. It was contentious for a while, but we’ve sorted through things. I support them financially, obviously. And when I’m not on tour or in the studio, I disappear up to Lancaster for a few weeks at a time and no one is the wiser.”

You study him as wind tears in off the Atlantic Ocean, as seagulls swoop and screech overhead. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate how you’ve protected her once she can understand.”

“I don’t know how to be a father. Not a good one. But I try. I don’t just show up for movie nights and birthdays. I take her shopping for school supplies. I put her back to bed when she has nightmares. I take her to the dentist, to the park, to the library. She really likes pigs, so I adopted a few from a farm animal rescue and we learned how to raise them together.”

“You caring about being a good parent puts you ahead of a lot of people already,” you say. “Nobody in Comet knows?”

“Just Aemond. Once, years ago, her mother needed something and I was out of the country. I had to let somebody in on the secret, somebody I could trust. I chose Aemond. I chose right.” Now Cregan is amused. “He’s the one who suggested the pigs.”

“Of course he did,” you say; and you can’t help but smile. “How old is she?”

“Six and a half. Do you want to see a picture her?”

“Absolutely. If it’s alright with you.”

Cregan pulls his iPhone from his pocket, swipes around for a while, and then turns the screen so you can see. She looks like him, a lot like him, but with round cheeks and long dark lashes. And Cregan is beaming as he says: “Her name is Iris.”

“So you didn’t have to do the Maury paternity test thing.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No. I knew from the second I saw her she was mine.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

Cregan shrugs, pensive, evasive. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do.” And he believes that you mean it; you can see it on his face. Aemond is watching you and Cregan, you notice now. He glances over, pretends he didn’t, glances again. You gesture to the crashing waves and say to Cregan: “If Aegon gets attacked by a shark, will you jump in and punch it or something please?”

Cregan chuckles. “Yeah. That’s my main job here, I think. Stopping people from dying.” And then, seriously: “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I haven’t done anything that warrants it.”

“No. Really.” Cregan reaches out, takes your uninjured hand, squeezes it briefly before releasing you. “Thank you, Stargirl.” Then he stands and walks to the water’s edge, letting the surf rush up over his ankles, for just a moment feeling nothing on his shoulders but the sunlight.

Aemond gives Shelby his kite and, as she glares bitterly, makes his way over to you. He takes off his sunglasses so he can see you better and hooks them on the waistband of his swim trunks: black, of course, his usual color. You’re actually wearing black today too, a flowing coverup over a pink swimsuit. You feel very much like hiding. When Aemond speaks, there is perhaps a hint of envy, green like leaves of poison, gleaming like snakeskin. “What were you and Cregan talking about?”

“Fatherhood.” And then you realize how it might sound.

There is a split second where Aemond looks startled; then he remembers Iris. “Right. Not so easy for people like us to navigate.”

People like us. Celebrities, boy band members, haunted men. You scramble for a nonchalant way to feel out the subject with him. “How does Louis Tomlinson handle it?”

“He’s a saint,” Aemond says. And you think: Patron saint of baby daddies? “Freddie was very, very unplanned. The mother was a nobody, a rebound. And a lot of people assumed she did it on purpose to try to keep Louis. Or to get eighteen years of a luxury lifestyle out of him. Or to just get fame in general. Personally, I believe it was all of the above.”

“Right,” you say, sweating heavily beneath your coverup.

“But none of that is the kid’s fault, and Louis is a good enough guy to realize it. So he plays nice with Freddie’s mother and they don’t go to war through tabloids anymore.”

“So, uh…” How can I put this? “You’re good with kids too. Cregan told me you had the pig idea.”

And the look that crosses Aemond’s face, the look: caustic, incredulous, night-dark, self-loathing. “Are you insane? Have you met me? I terrify kids. And I should, but not just because of the eye and the scar. What the hell do I know about being a decent father? What do I know about being a decent anything? I’d have no idea where to start. I’d fuck it up even if I tried desperately not to. I’d end up with kids like Aegon: addicts who hate themselves, people who are irrevocably lost.”

You say meekly: “I think Criston is something like a father to you. He could be a role model.”

“I’m not half as good a man as Criston is.”

Change the topic, change the topic, before Aemond gets suspicious. And there’s something else you’ve been meaning to ask him. “Aemond…after you almost murdered Jace…when we didn’t know if or how he was going to be able to perform until he healed…did anyone ask you to come back to Comet and fill in for him?”

“No,” Aemond says. And he’s thunderstruck by the thought, appalled, petrified.

“You don’t think that it might have been a good idea? That it might make sense?”

“No,” he says again instantly.

“But…in Tokyo…when Daeron made that speech at the last show…I think the crowd’s reaction was pretty powerful, don’t you? People still care about you. They love and respect you. And I think…maybe…it might help you with what you’ve experienced. To get back on stage—even just one last time—and prove to yourself that you still have what it takes. To know that if you do leave Comet, it’s your choice, not anyone else’s.”

“They love who I was,” Aemond says. “Not who I am now. And that’s easy to do. They don’t have to look at me.”

“Goddammit, there’s nothing wrong with how you look, Aemond!” you burst out. “You look fantastic. I never get tired of looking at you. I want to look at you all the fucking time. I’d hang life-sized portraits of you on every wall in my apartment in Kansas City. That’s how much I enjoy looking at you.”

He thinks you’re joking, he thinks you’re trying to make him feel better. You can’t stop him from thinking these things. And yet still, as he turns away, he is smiling: just a whisper of a curl at the corner of his lips, secretive, fragile.

As Comet is leaving the beach, you stop at a souvenir shop on the boardwalk to buy your keepsake for this tour destination. You settle on a pink frisbee that has I love the Jersey Shore! embossed on it in large, abrasive letters. You think your parents’ Australian cattle dogs will enjoy fetching it when you get home. Home feels so much closer—both literally and figuratively—than it did just a few weeks ago.

Criston is browsing through the t-shirts. “Hey, what size is your mom, Aegon? Medium?”

“How the hell would I know? Probably.” He holds up a pair of red, white, and blue bikini bottoms that say Firecracker across the ass. “You think my dad would mind if you sent her these?”

Criston is blushing. “Aegon, stop.”

“You could get her a bikini top too. Oh look, that one over there is red, it matches. And it says MILF across the tits. So that’s pertinent.”

“Stop!” Criston cries, distressed, and flees the store.

Halfway through the hour-long drive back to the hotel, Aegon insists that Criston stop the Escalades so he can get a hoagie from a Wawa. Aegon has never had a hoagie before. He says he cannot truly experience America without one.

At the ordering counter, Jace—slightly less bruised and swollen today, and thus in better spirits—taunts Aegon: “Are you sure you need all that bread? You’re going to be wearing a muumuu on stage by the time we get to the Midwest.”

“You know, just because you said that, now I’m going to get two hoagies…”

On the television mounted inside the Wawa, CNN is reporting on a group of tornadoes that just struck Wichita. And it occurs to you that tornadoes don’t have trajectories to calculate like hurricanes or airplanes or comets; they are climatological sharks. They strike quickly, indiscriminately, and then they’re gone again. They aren’t named. They aren’t enshrined. They don’t even have a belly to cut open and retrieve pieces of your loved ones from. If they take someone, they’re just gone.

While the rest of the band is in line to order their food, and Aemond is scrutinizing the dried fruit and nuts selection, you sneak through the other aisles.

It’s time. I have to find out eventually. I have to know.

You pluck a pregnancy test—cute, pink, nausea-inducing—off a rack, purchase it with truly impressive speed at the checkout counter, and race to the bathroom. It’s surprisingly difficult to piss on a tiny stick of doom, especially when your primary hand is in a splint and only partially useable. Eventually, you manage. You put the cap back on the pregnancy test, set it on top of the toilet paper dispenser, and stare at the metal door of the stall. The Wawa speakers are playing The Fray’s Over My Head.

It won’t be positive. It can’t be positive.

You think of pregnancy test commercials you’ve seen: happy couples rejoicing, happy single women getting negatives. How are you supposed to react to bad news? Nobody ever tells you. Do you scream, sob, beg for forgiveness, schedule an appointment at Planned Parenthood? Do you kick the bathroom stall door down in mindless feminine fury? Do you throw yourself off a balcony?

There’s no way it will be positive. It was one time. Just one goddamn time.

And who knows if that will ever happen again with Aemond. This does not improve your mood.

You pick up the pregnancy test. It is unequivocally positive.

You shove it into the small rectangular trashcan for pads and tampons, things you won’t be needing in the immediate future. You get dressed, leave the stall, go to the sink and wash your hands. Then you grip the cool, slick, white porcelain and gaze at yourself in the mirror under nowhere-to-hide florescent lights. What do you feel? Everything, nothing, things you can’t name yet. You’re a raw nerve, you’re completely numb.

The bathroom door swings open. Shelby enters. She squares up with great purpose. Your eyes roll to her, slowly, with no tolerance left, not a drop of it. “Stay away from Aemond,” she demands.

“Make me.”

She is in disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?”

You turn all the way towards her. “Fucking make me, Shelby.”

“I knew you wanted him,” she says, she seethes. “I saw you in those paparazzi photos from Reykjavik and I knew you were already twisting your claws into him.”

You hold up your hands to show her; your thoughts are fuzzy, dazed, without inhibition. “I have no claws whatsoever. If I did, you’d know about it. Believe me. You’d be able to look down and watch your heart beating through the gashes.”

“You don’t belong here. Some Midwestern farm girl running around in flip flops and Cookie Monster pajama pants? You’re trash. You’re a user. You’re a nobody. And if you’re trying to steal a taken man, then you’re a whore too.”

“I’ve been called worse things by better people.”

“I can make them hate you,” Shelby says indignantly. “Comet. The world.”

“Good luck with that, Malibu Barbie. Nobody even knows I exist.”

“Stay away from Aemond,” she says again, trembling with her futile bleach-blond rage. “We’re meant to be together. We have so much history.”

“And yet no future.” You smile sweetly, breeze past her, step on one of her perfectly pedicured feet with a thoroughly unpretentious flip flop. By the time you return to them, the band is almost ready to leave Wawa.

You’re not hungry, but Aegon coaxes you into taking a few bites from his hoagie. You’re not able to focus on what people are saying, but you hear Aemond mention that he wishes Comet had time to visit a planetarium in some nearby town called Toms River. You think about what it would be like to lie side by side with him under the stars, under the sky where comets appear again after vanishing for centuries. You wonder if there’s anyplace where you and Aemond could ever be truthful with each other.

At night you can’t sleep. There is no shortage of reasons why. You wander from your bed to the gold-carpet hallway to the vending machines, where you stare brainlessly at the options. Am I supposed to not be drinking caffein? Did I get any Vitamin D today? How much sugar is too much? You buy a bottle of apple juice—surely a safe bet—and head back to your suite.

As you walk by Aemond and Shelby’s door, your steps slow. Some nights you can hear them in there arguing: Shelby reiterating all the reasons why they’re perfect for each other, clearly a rebuttal to an accusation you weren’t privy to. Some nights you hear muffled casual conversation or episodes of Cosmos. Some nights you hear nothing at all. Some nights your imagination colors in the gaps before you can stop it: his hands on her, his mouth on her, things you know you have no right to dread and yet you do. But tonight, Shelby is momentarily removed from the scene. You can hear the distant pattering of the shower, and then Aemond alone in the living room gathering up plates and glasses. He’s singing something very quietly, so quietly it takes you a while to recognize it. It’s not even a Comet Donati song. It’s Through The Dark.

You sit down in the empty hallway, your back to his door. And you lean your head against it as you listen to Aemond singing softly to himself, doubt sinking into you the same way that trapped blood fills a bruise: Maybe it wasn’t as good for him as it was for me. Maybe he doesn’t talk to me because he doesn’t want to. Maybe I don’t belong here anymore. Maybe I’ve invented a history that we don’t really share. Maybe he didn’t mean it when he said he loves me.

“What am I going to do?” you whisper, scalding tears brimming in your eyes, shivering hands settling on your belly. In a few months, you’ll be showing. “What the hell am I going to do?”

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #Aegon Targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #Aegon II Targaryen #Aegon Targaryen II x reader #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #Aegon x you #aegon x y/n

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yunxi-11085 · 10 months

Text

Jing Yuan x reader & our child yanqing!!

I just want baby yanqing being a lil silly troublemaker and reader(you) just letting him go no matter what because he's so freaking cute??? you couldn't help it when he showed you his super move of puppy face.. later on Jing yuan might need to learn it from yanqing hehe but jing yuan would be upset, like yanqing broke his favorite cup but he just gets a little scolding and can go back to playing w/ toys... with the excuse of him being too cute that you must let him go

time skip to when yanqing is a teen and jing yuan finally gets to take his revenge by hiding some of yanqing's favorite swords

that would make yanqing superrr upset but he doesn't know who stole his favorite swords.. so he can't confront them abt it and then because you know who stole his lil swords so you secretly gave yanqing some allowance to buy more swords? jing yuan doesn't even know where all that money comes from keke

reminded by this small comic(?) where Jing yuan is disappointed at yanqing for buying new swords but you couldn't help but give him more money when he asks for it because he's tOO cute (( like even if I weren't related to him I'd do ANYTHING to make this baby smile like this aaa

a few sword buying trips later and jing yuan started noticing n he gets jealous~~ you're little hubby getting jealous of the son you both adore~~

so during this morning when you n your hubby wakes up together in bed, he asks "what are your plans for today?" today you are supposed to accompany yanqing to meet some officials! which is the job other people should be doing but you wanted to spend more time with your son.

"how about we go on a date today, just the two of us." he said. but wasn't he supposed to be at work today? "I'm sure the diviner would be willing to let me have a break once in a while" he was sure, but you weren't sure.

he stands up and reaches out for your hand, "it's been a long time since we've went out together"

you were tempted to go with him but you still had to meet up with qingque too right? you promised her that you wanted to learn mahjong from her.

and then you looked back up at his face— oh my.... yanqing??? the general of the cloud knights, looking at you with such puppy—

"uh... sure then" you shyly said, it's a once and a lifetime to see this face... you must treasure it in your brain for years to come even though you already have yanqing's puppy face in there too

nn~ Jing yuan hides you from yanqing the whole day

I'm gonna add more tmrw I need to sleep aaa

update :: I'm now awake and leTs continue

Jing Yuan x reader w/ our child yanqing (jelly Jing yuan time~~)

you don't know but, Jing yuan purposely brought you to restaurants where he knew that yanging wouldn't be in and disrupt the little love time you both have. yesterday while he was sulking in the divine foresight he went and calculated where is the best route to not see yanqing for a day ImAO

imagine doing that to your son

anyways, Jing yuan was being super nice and caring the entire time, if you wanted a little teddy bear he'd buy it for you, etc. etc. if he caught you ogling at some cupcakes or sweets from the window he'd bring you inside and let you taste every one of them!

if you didn't notice, some people were giggling and smiling at your cute interaction. the general of xianzhou on a date with his cute s/o!

it was near afternoon now and you've already visited all the places you wanted to go.

"hm I know the perfect place to go, angel" imagine Jing yuan calling you angel while you call him hubby ImFaokskmskandn I'm single af why am I writing this

you both go on a walk together while holding hands.. the sun is setting and.... oh this man is so pretty. you know it, we all know it. but even all the years of marriage nd being together you still couldn't get over how your hubby is so so pretty.

the radiance of the sun from behind him while he looks at you with those loving eyes.. your heart flutters at the sight.

and guess what? he brings you to a small cafe, and it was full of cats.. and birds. >> you know whose the biggest bird n cat lover here

you squeal at the sight and almost immediately jump inside to pat the little furries...

the last part of the date was so romantic. the staff was super welcoming and the tea tasted so good. It's like our first date all over again. you chuckled and Jing yuan laughed as well.

"we can consider this as our first date together as a married couple then" which funny enough truly is, because every other time it's the three of you together on a family trip.

when the date is over, and you and Jing yuan walk back. he holds your hand tightly with fingers intertwined. he makes sure he walks side by side because of the major size difference between you two.. and if he walks how he usually does you will probably have to run to catch up to him every step

'maybe we should do more of these in the future..'

when you arrive home, you will probably bring out a sandal to Jing yuan because he failed to tell qingque that you are going when you reminded him to atleast tell someone to send a message to her.

yanqing runss to you and you barely had time to react before Jing yuan picks the young boy up with his two large hands by the waist.

"WAh-

"slow down yanqing, we need to rest." Jing yuan says before putting the boy down.

hm? I'm not tired though?

Jing yuan got the message but nonetheless he drags you to your shared bedroom leaving the poor boy behind

hah...

jelly Jing yuan is my thing now I need him to be a jelly little baby for me hehe

I'm probably gonna make more yuus

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail imagines #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr au #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail jing yuan #honkai jing yuan #jing yuan #hsr #hsr jing yuan #yanqing x reader #yanqing #hsr fanfic #h

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hurtspideyparker · 1 month

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Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

#peter parker #spider man #ask #anon #fic rec #spiderman #marvel mcu #spider-man #peter parker angst #irondad and spiderson #tony stark #avengers #iron man #peter parker whump

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saltylandland · 2 years

Text

You are my Sweetest love ❤️

If you get the reference I love you

Word count: 4K

Summary: an unlikely friendship between a lion and a bunny takes a turn when Leona stumbles into your heat

Warnings/notes: heats, overstimulation (I really am predictable huh 💀), rough housing, brat!reader ig, reader has female genitalia, shorkbrian made some prompts that had reader who got fucked over their plushie and yeahhh that bled into this fic, someone pls fuck me into my hilariously oversized squishmellow ok?, 3rd act break up/misunderstanding trope (I usually hate those but I think it’s in line with Leona’s character), also bunny reader lives with grim and that buff guy from the comics(?) and is not a student (just don’t question it), explaining and reasoning why this shit happens is so last year lol, the mystery is part of the fun.

———-

By far your favourite place to nap was the couch. After coming home from a long day of doing chores, repairing ramshackle so it’s actually habitable, and doing random tasks assigned by the headmaster at last minute, the highlight of your day is often taking a quick nap before you go back to another chore. This is such a common occurrence that you even have left a blanket on the back of the couch and a soft pillow nearby.

But one day something curious happened.

Coming from the kitchen you see a tall muscular body in your favourite napping spot. It was the time of day where the sun was shining in just the right spot, enough to warm your body pleasantly but not shine in your face like a nuisance. You were a bit disappointed about this development as you were using a nap as your motivation to finish the dishes, but you supposed you can get another chore or two done before Yuuken and Grimm come back. Taking one last look at the stranger, you drape your blanket over them before making your way out of the room.

You started to see him more and more after that day. Walking in the living room for a nap only to be quietly let down as you see the familiar lion tail. You knew who he was in theory, His name is Leona Kingscholar and based on Grimms description, a massive jerk. Though, he always folds your blanket haggardly before he leaves so you weren’t sure. You rarely interact with most of the student body considering your station, but you’ve seen him around quite a bit. The infamous overblot incident instantly comes to mind but more casually you’ve accidentally bumped into him more than you have any other person in NRC. Somehow always finding his hiding spots and occasionally seeing him practice spelldrive when you walk by the fields for odd jobs. Still, you’ve never spoken before. Shit, you don’t think he’s even looked at you before and you were okay with that. For the most part you were fine forfeiting your nap spot occasionally.

Until one day where you were just so fed up. Fed up with the constant chores, the property damage Grimm and Yuuken’s friends would inflict just by existing, and the lack of action from the headmaster in anything other than constantly giving out more odd jobs for both you and Yuuken. Dragging yourself back to ramshackle you wanted to cry, why won’t that bastard leave?!

You just fully gave up, grabbing a knit blanket you made you plop down right next to Leona. The couch sinks with a ‘poof’ as Leona snaps open his eyes to stare you down, you stare back. Silently communicating til you close your eyes and very slowly you feel Leona relax again. You know that he knows that this is your spot, if your occasional stare and faint lingering smell that is constant near this area is any indication. Then he would also have to know how you were oh so ‘graciously’ letting him stay there. You both try to ignore the other's existence, both too stubborn to give up the napping spot.

When you woke up you were surprised by the quality of sleep you had while napping with Leona, but you weren’t surprised by the lack of his presence now, having left before Yuuken and Grimm arrived. Just like when he first arrived, this quickly became a pattern

At first all you two would do is just sleep, but then it slowly evolved into something more. The couch never left any room between you two and before you knew it, you’d wake up with an arm or a leg or a tail loosely wrapped around your form. Both of you silently ignoring each other while basking in the other’s body heat.

One time you stumbled into the living room to find Leona sitting on your couch with a beautifully made chessboard that miraculously made its way into ramshackle. At first you sat with him, assuming he’d eventually go for a nap, but then he pulled you into a game and taught you how to play. Then one round became another then another. That was the first time Yuuken and Grimm had found you both together.

Your routine barely changed from there for a while, most often you two would just fall asleep on the couch together but eventually you got sick of only playing chess. After speaking with some members from the board game club, you were allowed to borrow the occasional card or board game. Which he would occasionally relent and it would be quite fun, or he would flip over to sleep and you would go do a chore as a protest over his attitude.

Later on in your friendship you had started receiving little gifts from time to time. Usually things that would relate to whatever you found yourself muttering about as you cleaned, like art supplies or things to help around the dorm. Sometimes it would manifest in coins being left where you don’t keep your money. Around the kitchen, in between the couch cushions, or just dropped on the floor. Knowing about Leona’s wealth you had tried to hand it to him but he always managed to find a way to deflect.

It got to appoint where he would just give you money. Usually after he would complain about something and you would point out that he’s an uninvited house guest and how money doesn’t grow on trees where you’re from. Throwing way more money than it would cost he would order you to buy meat so he can stay longer, or would send Ruggie to deliver some, though he would never specify who had hunted it for you. As well as teach you how to make it just the way Leona likes it. Despite his flippant nature you couldn’t deny how much you missed being able to eat meat in the first place, and the looks on your housemates faces made the demands more palatable even for your ego.

But then one day, everything changed… when Leona bought you a blanket. After complaining about the blankets -never about your homemade knit ones though- the next day he arrived with the softest blanket you had ever felt. What you didn’t know is that the way your eyes sparkled when you received the blanket made Leona’s heart clench and that’s when it began. The beginning of your pillow fort empire.

Something you had felt when you were only a human and not yet a bunny beastman -something Crowley still won’t answer directly about- was the comfort from a good old fashioned blanket fort. The feeling only heightened, with each new edition you felt yourself become more sweet with Leona, though a bit subconsciously. Feeling more comfortable with outwardly cuddling when you do sleep on the couch, but so far you’ve resisted the urge to drag Leona back to your room to show him your creation. What would come out of it? Nothing, you were sure, but still the small pangs of need would rock through you and you would question everything that has led you up to this point. With the increase of pillows, blankets, and the occasional plushie -almost exclusively delivered by Ruggie, definitely due to Leona’s pride- you had begun building your empire in your room.

With your bed frame rotted and rusted, you had long thrown that out and now you only have a mattress on the floor. Now padded to the nines with blankets, you hung the thinner blankets all around the ceiling and walls so there was barely any peeling wall paint showing at all. Leona never saw this development, never entering your room out of respect. Although you wish he would, even out of curiosity. He did notice the blankets he bought were brought out in rotation and that filled his chest with warmth he didn’t want to address just yet.

There were a few oddities Leona had noticed. You would spend less time napping with him, rather running like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to clean every surface in the dorm. Getting more curt when he pulls you away from your cleaning, and fussing more about the repairs and the cleanliness in general. Leona simply brushed it off as spring cleaning.

But he should’ve paid more attention. Somehow someway he forgot that you were a bunny beastmen. Your scent was slightly different then others and you already had a warm personality that it never reminded him of the fact that you were still a bunny beastman. Your scent subtly changes into more of a sweet note being masked by his own scent, but as well as Yuuken’s, his friends, and that mangy cat’s scent. He’d be lying if that didn’t piss him off.

Perhaps it made him a little bit irrational, when you came up to him nervously, telling him to stay away for a couple days -using missed classes as one of your excuses- he could only smell the people that got the luxury to be around you.

And quite honestly it made him see red.

Storming out silently but dramatically, he had actually done what you said. Avoiding ramshackle like the plague, he even started to regularly attend class. Though, it was pointless, his thoughts would only center around you and he knew everything being taught so it served as a terrible distraction. But he still couldn’t face you yet, not seeing your face or having you try to reach out to him hurt him more than he’d ever expect. Avoiding the ramshackle inhabitants was essential to avoid any conflict as his raging jealousy was still burning strong.

After a couple of days the fog had mostly cleared from Leona’s head. Feeling embarrassed and ashamed as he threw a fit to what essentially was you setting boundaries with him. And he would rather die than admit it but that stupid training idol camp was supposed to start next week, and it didn’t sit right that they would be staying at ramshakle to practice, undoubtedly would take advantage of your kindness if he isn’t there.

Walking to ramshackle after class, he unfortunately ran into Yuuken and Grimm, anticipating a verbal spar he was slightly panicked to see the worry on their faces. They had your scent though it was faint, not the same recognizable one he had smelled many times before but somehow mutated. He knew what it was but he couldn’t quite place it…

Ignoring his better judgment, he enters ramshackle with a new blanket in hand before Yuuken could even finish their request to check up on you. When he had reached the couch he was unsure of what to do. It was cold and there was barely any scent left at all, all the blankets had been stripped from the room making it feel hollow. Despite spending more time here then he’s ever been in his classes, he felt like a stranger. Leona debates walking out right then, but a thump somewhere upstairs reminds him of what he came here for.

Walking up the stairs he barely realizes what he’s walking into until it’s too late. Frozen at the doorway he watches as you repeatedly shuffle around trying to make your… nest as comfortable as possible. Suddenly your head snaps towards him, but he can sense that you’re staring through him as your hazy eyes barely latch on to your surroundings. Still, you crawl towards him and your hand reaches towards the new blanket but when your fingers touch you both drop the blanket. A blazing feeling that sparked at the lightest touch. You grab the blanket that was now on the floor and you hug it to your chest, sniffing it occasionally as you regard Leona slowly.

You’re whining now, explaining how you researched this before it got worse, “it’s only supposed to last a couple days, but it’s only gotten more intense!” Leona’s head looks at you more closely when he realizes “it’s because you’ve grown attached” your eyes widen sweetly as your brain tries to remember that part you had only skimmed over. Leona approaches your nest, and he watches you crumble at your realization.

“Is this all for me, Bun?”

Slowly crawling into your nest and over your withering body, he takes gentle breaths as your scent overwhelms him. With hazy eyes he slowly pets over your body, cooing when your body arches into his hand. Slowly as he unbuttons your thin camisole top, he kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed. He uses his tongue to tease at your sensitive skin, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his textured tongue playfully laps at your breasts. Your whines and moans were like music to his ears.

You quickly found that his light teasing wasn’t enough, any remaining control your body had before quickly diminished as your body surged with a new found strength. Pulling at his clothes, almost ripping them off, your body arches up to grind against his. Feeling his boner through his pants you chuff a breathless laugh. While he may have the patience and self control to drag this out, you certainly did not. With some pushing and pulling you managed to get Leona on his back, he did not expect this but you ignored that. Barely wearing anything at all, you focus your attention on unbuttoning Leona’s pants, just enough to free his cock.

Wasting no time, you sank down on Leona with a satisfied moan. Leona tries to buck you off, to take control again, but you won’t be moved easily. As your hands and mouth are busy undressing his upper half and peppering kisses all over him, his rebukes are very weak. Bouncing happily, your eyes roll up and moans break out easily through your slackened jaw as the sounds of your skin hitting fabric and leather echoes throughout the room. Leona watches on in disbelief. You were like a completely different person, taking your pleasure unashamedly.

For now he relents, using his hands to massage your breasts and rub at your clit. Your body rocking back and forth to get closer. Letting you use his body to cum over his cock. Still, he doesn’t hold back and bucks his hips that make a satisfying ‘plap!’ when they meet yours. Allowing this time to chase his own orgasm before he takes control, it doesn’t take him long before he cums inside you. This seemed to affect you heavily, your voice reaching higher pitches than before as you cum again. Showering him in sweet kisses you begged for him to do that again, and he was close to giving you exactly that. But he had to hold back, if he truly indulged in your body he knew he wouldn’t last, not with your heat only starting to be satiated. So for now he’ll hold back, then he’ll reap the benefits after you’re completely fucked out and satisfied.

You don’t kick back when he grabs the back of your neck, pulling you down to kiss you as you reach closer to your next orgasm. As you were distracted chasing your orgasm, Leona takes advantage of this and switches up the tempo. With one hand on your neck and the other on your ass, he starts thrusting faster than you could ever achieve on your own. Allowing your orgasm to rush over you, you fall back on Leona’s chest and he overtakes you.

Flipping over, Leona wastes no time to fuck you through your orgasm. Caging you in his arms to keep you there, he buries his face in the alcove of your neck. Teeth teasing the skin there as a way to coax you to behave. But that didn’t work, because soon enough you were squirming trying to get on top again, despite the fact that Leona was effectively blowing your back out.

Going harder than before, he maneuvered your body so one leg was resting on his shoulder. He never thought that he’d have to fight you in order to give you the pleasure that you're demanding. Your body shudders at your approaching orgasm, but Leona doesn’t stop. He had gathered that he’s going to have to fuck you til you’re tired and sleepy for him to have full control, if your mischievous smile through half opened eyes was any indication.

Throwing your leg aside, Leona grabs at your wrists despite your disgruntled whine as he moves down to your pussy. The sweet scent of your sex and sweat intoxicated him and he went to lick you slowly just to tease you. After narrowly avoiding a foot that almost hit his head, he bares his teeth and growls at your pout. That kick had no real power to it, but he couldn’t just let that brattiness slide. Slapping hard enough to sting on your thighs, he then mirrored that to your cunny. Ignoring your cute moans at this rough treatment he continued to slowly feast on you as you cry about how unfair he’s being. Even as you cum and gush on his tongue you’re begging for his cock.

Eventually he pulls away so he can properly undress fully but you scramble after him. Quickly putting your drool covered lips around his cock, gagging around the base of it. With one hand supporting your weight beneath you, the other grasps onto Leona’s thigh firmly in order to keep you grounded. Your little kitten licks disorient Leona and after he finishes undressing he brushes the hair away from your face. Despite his want to watch you choke on his dick, he pushes you away further into your nest. Flipping you over he keeps your head down as he pushes into your cunny again and you grip the bed sheets like a lifeline as you whine out.

This position lets Leona hit all the right spots with ease, your breath gets knocked out as he reaches even deeper than before. Reaching over you, he cages you in as he reaches your clit. Rubbing it so you’re sobbing as he growls obscenities in your ear. Your hips push back into his, your hands pushing against the headboard to get more grip. You can feel the haze of whatever frenzy you’re going through start to fade and Leona’s fast pace starts to become overwhelming.

Grabbing at the base of your nape, he finally feels you melt as you cum quickly around his cock. His hips still for a moment and then he cums inside you as you come down from your orgasm. Shifting into a bit more gentle rhythm he praises you as you cry out. “Finally settled down now eh?” Pulling back a little he tells you “rub your clit for me yeah? Can’t make me do all the work here.” You sob happily into the blankets beneath you. Looking around he grabs at a plushie that was shoved into the corner of your nest. It was large and obnoxiously cutesy, Leona himself struggled to hold it in both arms much less look at it, but it will serve its purpose here.

Tucking it underneath you, you immediately hug it closer with comfort and that was good enough for Leona. Not having to worry about you suffocating with the way you buried your face into the blankets, as well as making it easier to thrust into you more harshly. You’re a complete mess now, tears streaming down your face as you let out gentle ‘ah! ah! ah!’s as Leona thrusts.

Rolling over now you keep your plushie loosely in your grasp at your side as you watch Leona situate himself over you again. Feeling boneless you can only moan as your body rocks to the movement of Leona’s hips. Leaning down you two kiss lazily as the previous frenzy that consumed you was alleviated for now.

The spikes of overstimulation was now rushing in as Leona keeps up his gentle pace, squirming around only makes it worse and Leona only smiles at your keens to slow down. “Ah bun, I’m going as gently as I can. How can I know until you're satisfied? Why don’t we keep going til I’m done ok? That should give us more time to sleep if you're completely tuckered out.”

Bunny: 0 Lion: 1

#leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #twst #twst leona #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #leona smut #twst lemon #posties

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fabraies · 2 months

Text

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL K. DENKI x F! READER

summary having a non-committal boyfriend can be tough. What no one told you, was that having one that was more than committed could be a struggle, too.

warnings none. she's just a baby drabble to keep people happy (including me). Tooth rotting fluff ☝️maybe the ts title for kanye fans idk who knows

notes guess who came back from the dead!! It's been a little while, but here I am again (for how long is a mystery im not willing to uncover just yet). As an apology let me offer you this little drabble of mine that's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while..

You want to laugh. The situation is horribly, ridiculously comic. It was supposed to be your break from college, being back in your hometown and all, but your boyfriend does not seem to have the same definition than you when it comes to the word, 'break.

"What are you doing here !?" You shout at Kaminari, all the way from your bedroom, on the second floor of your two story house. "It's raining cats and dogs out there, are you insane ?" You release a little giggle you were unable to keep in, despite the urgency showing in your tone.

"For you!" The boy replies, moving the wet front pieces of his hair away from his forehead.

"Don't be stupid! You'll get hypothermia!"

"I can't go back home! It's past 11, the next bus is in thirty minutes!”

He did this on purpose, you think. He had to. No one willingly knows the entire night bus schedule, yet still decides to go stand in front of a pretty girl's house hoping she'll open her window to see which freak had the stupid idea to stand in the rain waiting for her. No one, except Kaminari.

"Come on, pity me and invite me inside, I know you want to!" He grins, hand above his squinting eyes, trying to minimalize the amount of droplets blurring his eyesight.

What an idiot, you think. He's right, though. You do want to invite him inside.

"See the ladder on your left ?" The blonde follows your instructions, looking around, until his eyes fall on a little red one, obviously made for kids, shining under the moonlight due to the cheap plastic material. He looks up at you in confusion, before you burst out laughing. "No, not this one, Einstein! The silver one, right behind the hedge!"

It takes him a hot minute and a few laps around the front yard to figure out where the ladder you're talking about is, but he gets there eventually.

"You need to be careful with that next part, okay?" You lean forward, hands gripping at your window sill in worry.

"If you scratch the facade, my dad will kill you and me both!" Kaminari nods fervently at your demand.

"Okay, alright. So just get this right under- Wait I got it. I got it!" Kaminari's tongue makes its way through his teeth as a sign of utmost concentration, and it takes everything in you to not start laughing, again.

You're about to stabilise the ladder under your window sill when the sound of footsteps can be heard all the way from downstairs, and your father's huffs gradually get louder as he goes up the stairs.

You whisper-shout Kaminari's name to get him to stand aside and hide while he still can, but the rain harshly hitting the facade muffles your voice, and prevent you from warning your not-so knight in his not-so shining armour.

Screw it, you think, as you make a run for your bed and swiftly slide under the covers, he'll figure it out!

As it turns out, Kaminari did not figure it out. Not only did your father catch you a leg away from being completely engulfed by the covers looking as guilty as ever, but he also had the great idea to look out by the window, only to find your stupidly loving boyfriend wave back at him, as if a late night rendez vous involving an impressively big ladder and a yellow haired idiot was more than normal on a random Tuesday night.

"What are you doing down there, son?"

"Um, I just.. I was looking at your geraniums, sir! Nice lot of flowers you have right there!"

At this, your father only sighs. Yours follows up only five seconds later, letting Kaminari know just how much he'd screwed this impromptu visit at his girlfriend's. Much to his surprise (and yours) your father's answer much differs to his reaction:

"Next time, just use the front door."

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graciegoeskrazy · 5 months

Note

hi <3 can you do dad!matty and daughter!reader and shes dealing with her first heartbreak?

you’re all i need

Matty Healy + Teen!Daughter!reader (ft The 1975)

warnings: cheating, men, some language

a/n: HI! i’m back again. thank you to the LOVELY anon who requested this. I hope you enjoy! Also - ty to everyone who has sent a request! I promise you I will get to ALL of them as soon as i can. anywhoooo i like how this one turned out and i hope u like :)

The boys never heard the bus pulling up to the house. It wasn't until the front door slammed that they realized you were home. They were all in the kitchen talking when you arrived. Usually - especially if they're all home - you would run straight to all of them and talk and rant about your day. But this time it was noticeable that you were acting quite different.

“Hi, darling!” Your father yelled from the kitchen.

You gave a solemn, “Hey.” before running upstairs as quickly as possible, trying to not let them see your tear-stained face.

“You okay?” Adam asked.

You continued your trek upstairs, never once looking at them.

“Yeah just tired.”

That fact that you didn't run straight to them was a huge giveaway, but the slight crack in your voice set off an alarm in all of them.

They all exchanged looks. Some of worry, and some of confusion. Matty sighed before putting his drink down on the table.

“I’ll be right back he said.” And he made his way up to you.

…

Your biggest pet peeve in the entire world is when your dad didn't knock on your door. He learned his lesson several times and always made a point to knock ever since you yelled at him for it, but this time he just opened it without a knock or anything, afraid you might have been hiding something.

The door swung open and revealed you sitting on the other side of your bed, phone in hand, with tears threatening to spill out again.

You whipped away the tears as normally as you could, trying to not track any attention. “Hi.” He said, almost comically. You replied with a small “Hi.”

“How was school?” he said, starting to make his way into your room.

“Fine.” You quipped.

“Fine?”

You just nodded and let out a slight hm, trying to move this convo along as fast as possible.

He shook his head.

“Well, we both know that’s bull shit.”

You sighed and stood up to face him, ushering out the door. “Dad, I just don’t want to talk about it.” Tears fully falling out again. He put his hands on your shoulders urging you to sit on the bed.

“If you’re this hurt about it darling, I think we should.” You gave up and fell onto the bed, your face hiding in your pillows.” He slowly sat down next to you, asking “Is it about school?” while doing so.

“No.” You said the sound being muffled by your pillows.

“Friends?” He asked stroking your back, coaxing you to come out.

“No!” you yelled into the pillows.

“Issac?”

You didn’t respond, which let your dad too his answer.

“Ahhhh…jackpot.” He said.

You just sighed.

“Bad date?”

“No.”

“Lovers quarrel?”

“Not exactly.”

Matty didn't want to say what he was about to say but he had to make sure…

“Did you guys…do something you weren’t supposed to?”

“Dad!” You yelled while sitting up.

He put his hands up in defense. “I just have to make sure.”

You slumped against the headboard. “Come on, darling. You tell me everything! That shouldn't stop because of guy stuff. I am a guy! I can help you out.”

You just continued to cry. By now you were full on sobbing. It took your dad back. Whatever was happening, he now knew it was serious. You fell into him and sobbed into his shirt. “Woah, honey. What happened.”

“He cheated on me.” You managed to say during sobs.

“What?” Your father was completely shocked.

You sat up again before speaking. “A girl came up to me during lunch. She told me that she and Issac had been dating for a month. He told her that he broke up with me a while ago, but found out the truth from a friend and she felt bad so she wanted to tell me.” You let out a small sniffle.

“Oh, honey. Have you talked to him?” He asked.

“Yeah. At first, he was all defensive. He said that he could have any other girl he wanted but he chose to stay with me and that I should be thankful. He started yelling and when he finally admitted it I asked why and he said ‘Because at least she lets me fuck her.’ and stormed off.”

The door immediately opened revealing Ross storming inside, George tying to hold him back, and Adam, Carly, and Jamie all behind them still trying to process everything they’ve been hearing. “What?!” Ross said, almost breaking down the door.

“Really?!” Matty said.

“We were worried.” Ross shrugged.

“This ain’t your business mate, fuck off.”

This time, George chimed in. “She’s our niece and goddaughter. If she comes home sobbing her eyes out, we're gonna convey some worry.”

This was getting too much for you. You yelled very loudly, trying to get them to all stop. “Enough! Everyone out! Please I just want to be alone.”

Matty sighed and kissed the top of your head before heading out. “As you wish.” He said. He ushered the others to leave while silently yelling at Ross.

…

Matty was sitting on the couch watching some trash reality TV show when he decided it was time for him to head up to bed. It was pretty late, everyone had gone home well before, and he was ready to pass out. He hasn't spoken to you since when you came home, other than sending a small text asking if you wanted any food to which you did not reply. As he walked upstairs and past your room, he heard quiet sniffles coming behind your door. He opened the door slightly, and peaked his head through. “Baby?” he asked. He saw you curled up in bed with tears streaming down your face, with a vinyl playing silently in the corner of your room. “Oh, my love.” He said. Immediately sitting on the bed and scooping you up into his arms.

You were a fucking wreck. You couldn't get Issac out of your mind. You couldn't help but think that you were dumb enough to waste almost a year of your life on someone who ended up probably never caring about you. Your head was swerling with thought, and Matty caught you right in the nick of time.

You cried into his arms. “It hurts, Daddy.” You said.

He brushed your hair back and laid you back down on the bed, tucking you in and lying next to you. “Oh, my sweet girl.”

“Why was I so stupid?”

This is what Matty feared, that you would blame some prick's biggest mistake on yourself. “You are not stupid.” He said.

“Yes, I am. I’m a stupid girl who was convinced someone loved her.” You said, crying into his chest.

“Hey! For the last time, you are not stupid. You are the wisest, kindest, most beautiful, and charming soul I have ever laid my eyes upon. And some bloke named Issac is stupid and blind and couldn’t see the absolute gift he had in front of him.”

Your cries turned into quite sniffles. “This will pass. Eventually. I promise you.”

“How do you know? You’ve been cheated on before?”

He laughed a little. “No. I’m the one who did the cheating.”

You looked up at him. “What? Dad!”

“I know. I was an idiot who was not worthy of someone's love - someone who you will never know about -”

You rolled your eyes.

“So that’s how I know for sure that Issac is an idiot who didn't see the absolute gift he had in front of him because I was that same idiot.”

You stayed quiet, not entirely sure of what to say. Matty caught sight of something on your nightstand.

“Did you eat that whole gallon of ice cream?”

“I just got cheated on. Give me a fucking break.”

“I’m not judging.” He said, smiling.

“I thought that’s what you're supposed to do during a break up. Eat ice cream and listen to Taylor Swift non-stop.”

“That’s one way of doing it.”

“I can’t stop listening to ‘Death by a Thousand Cuts’”

“I don’t think that’s very healthy.”

You smiled. “What can I say, I’m obsessed with your ex-girlfriend.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” he said, getting out of bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed and tucked you in again. “You okay? For right now at least?”

“Yeah. You made it better.”

He smiled. You continued.

“And Taylor did too.”

“I’m leaving.” He said, turning away. You laughed hysterically.

“You fumbled the bag mate!”

“Goodnight!” he slammed the door, smiling.

…

When the next day rolled around you panicked when you realized you slept through your alarm. You checked your phone and saw a text from your dad that he had sent while you were asleep. “No school today. I turned your alarm off last night while you were sleeping. If you wake up be ready to leave by 11. I have to go into the studio today and I want you to come with me.”

You were quiet the entire car ride. Usually, you forced your dad to give you aux rights but this time you sat in sullum silence as you watched rural Londen pass you by. Your dad definitely noticed but he didn’t want to push you into a conversation. He knew you were very fragile at the moment and whenever you were uncomfortable you retreated to your little shell so to speak like you were doing now. He didn't want to ruin that, so he left you alone.

When you arrived at the studio you took a deep breath before getting out of the car. Your dad wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your head as you both walked in together. You were greeted with Ross who was sitting in one of the lounge chairs right by the door. All of them have been briefed by Matty. He sent a text saying, ‘Baby is coming w/ today. She’s still heartbroken. Try to make her less heartbroken. She’ll prob cry every 2 minutes so be prepared.’ Ross had his usual chipper attitude that he only ever showed when he was around you. “Hey! There’s our favorite girl!” he opened his arms wide awaiting a hug from you. You smiled a little bit and accepted it. “How’ve ya been?” he asked pulling away. “Very shitty.” You replied while wiping away a few tears that had escaped during the hug. “Yeah, getting your heart broken will do that to you.” You shrugged and smiled. George came up to you next, offering his drumsticks. “Feeling like hitting something?” You shrugged then replied, “Yeah actually.” he smiled. “Go for it.”

Once you were behind the other side of the glass getting a beat going, George spoke up. “So, when are we killing him?”

Adam laughed before adding, “We’re not killing a kid.”

“Why not? He broke our girl's heart.”

Ross chimed in too. “We have his address and phone number and an array of kitchen knives, I say we give it a go. Right, Matty?”

Your father was just watching you play, as always mesmerized by your talents at such a young age. “As much as it’s entertaining, y/n wouldn’t want it.”

Ross clicked his tongue. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Matty turned to the boys.

“We’ll just give him dirty looks every time we pick y/n up from school.”

#matty healy #matty healy x daughter!reader #matty healy x reader #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #x daughter!reader #the 1975

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