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#do I go with the canon of green eyes? yes
dotster001 · 7 months
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Meeting Their Future Kids With You
Summary: Vil/Idia/Crewel/Crowley/Malleus/Rook x gn! Reader. A child suddenly appears. And it seems to have a connection to you? Requested by @stygianoir
A/N: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.
CW: spreading my asexual Malleus agenda, especially now that I've been spoiled for the fact that the dragon lays an egg and all it needs is love to hatch. ASEXUAL MALLEUS CAN NOW BE CANON Y'ALL!!!! Anyways...his kid is the only one with physical descriptors, so do with that what you will 😅
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Something was wrong. There was a presence at Ramshackle that shouldn't be there. Could it be? Could someone be trying to steal you from him? No! He had only just started courting you! It wasn't fair. 
He poofed into your sitting room and froze. 
You were snuggling what looked like…a small version of him?
You looked up and your jaw dropped.
"Wait, I thought this was you!" You looked back down at the kid who giggled and made grabby hands at Malleus.
"Daddy!"
Ah! Yes, he understood now. Draconia genes were strong. This child clearly was barely old enough to even hold a human form, it was not out of the realm of possibility that it had accidentally used a time travel spell. Perhaps that was even the child's unique magic.
He walked over to the child in your arms, scooped it up, and gave it a soft kiss between the two tiny horns emerging from their head.
"It's wonderful to see you, but it's time to go home, little one."
The child nodded sagely and vanished in a puff of green smoke. You looked at him in complete confusion, but he simply laughed, repeating his kiss, but this time to your forehead.
He knew you were his soulmate.
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He knew with a single glance. The familiarity the twin girls before him held in their gazes, the way they carried themselves, the hats on their heads. Everything screamed his influence.
And though that didn't make any sense, Rook knew his eye and his instincts were never wrong.
But there was something about the girls that was distinctly…..
"Rook! Hi- aw shit, please tell me you didn't kidnap some kids!"
So distinctly you.
The two girls shared what, to anyone but Rook, would seem like an unsettling smile as you approached the silent scene.
"Non non, they are just passing through, oui, petites fleur's?"
"Oui," they said simultaneously, grinning at you, their eyes taking in your every facial twitch.
"Uh, okay? Relatives of yours?"
"One could say that."
All three of them laughed, leaving you confused and a little frightened.
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It was a normal day like any other. Searching for Epel who had once again fled his lessons.
And he had found him in the worst possible place. A mud pile with an already very muddy teenage girl.
Epel splashed the girl with a childish giggle, and she laughed hysterically.
"Papa was right, you were crazy!" She giggled making a mud ball and throwing it at him.
He dodged and it hit Vil.
"Ah shit," she whispered under her breath. But after a second of reflection, she grinned. "Wait, why am I scared? You're not the boss of me."
Vil glared, and she suddenly looked apologetic again.
Both Epel and the girl stared at the ground, completely avoiding eye contact.
"What school are you from?" Vil snapped at the girl.
She snickered but said nothing.
"Who do I report you to?"
She laughed louder. "Nah, I don't have to tell you shit."
"Language," he snapped, and tears filled her eyes.
"It was all uncle Epel's fault. I told him I didn't want to play in the mud, but he made me do it!"
"You absolute rat!" Epel shouted, picking up some mud and preparing to throw it.
Vil cast a quick spell, freezing both of you in place. He stormed over and snatched each of your wrists, preparing to storm off with the two trouble makers in tow, when he saw the shimmering gold bracelet on your wrist. Engraved on it was L/N-Schoenheit.
He stared for a moment, then groaned.
"Epel, remind me to never let you around my future child."
"He's my godfather," the girl grinned impishly, and Vil felt a part of himself die.
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"Excuse me, I'm looking for my dad. You look like you could be related to him."
Idia knew he shouldn't have left his room today. All he wanted was a snack, and to maybe see you if you happened to not be in a class right now, and now this extroverted teenager was asking about his dad.
What the absolute fuck?
He quickly pulled out his ipad, typing something about how anyone related to him wasn't worth finding, when the twerp yanked the iPad out of his hands.
"Nevermind, I figured it out," the kid snorted. "Hi dad!"
Idia started stuttering. Not only was this twerp an extroverted teen who stole his iPad, he was also insane.
"Nah, nah, not today, not today…" Idia started muttering under his breath.
The kid rolled his eyes.  
"Forgot about this part. Guess they really did change you for the better," he started typing something on his watch, and a hologram popped up, showing the kid, you, and Idia…? Your and Idia's faces were a bit more lined than they were right now but….it was definitely you.
He stared at the hologram, his hair turning a bright red. 
"Oh! Hey Idia!" Your voice called from behind him.
He turned and waved to you shyly, then turned back to the teen. But he was gone.
And the damn boy stole his iPad.
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If his hair wasn't already dyed, those two freshmen would have given him gray hair by now.
Once again, they'd made a potion explode in his classroom. And once again, the fallout would be a pain to clean up.
Where you had once sat was a small child. A small child who was looking at him expectantly.
"Well?" She asked.
At first he had assumed this small child was your child form. But no. She looked nothing like you. Though, she did have a similar glint in her eye.
"Who are you?" He asked softly, not wishing to scare the child with the rage that was building up inside him. He'd told you again and again that your friends were trouble, and now look where it got you.
Wait. Where exactly were you?
Before the girl could speak, a red smoke filled the room, and a him with a few more wrinkles appeared, dragging you by the wrist. Your face was covered in a vicious pout.
"I already told them," future Crewel said, eying the freshmen with a vicious glare. "No need to repeat it."
He opened his arms in front of the little girl, a warm smile taking over his features, as the girl climbed into his arms, snuggling into him. He pointed at you and the freshman one more time, said, "Behave." And vanished into red smoke.
Present day Crewel pinched the bridge of his nose, and pointed at you.
"He already said it," you snapped,punching Ace in the shoulder for good measure.
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"Morning dad."
"Morning," Crowley muttered tiredly as he sipped his coffee.
Then he choked on it. There should be no one in his office right now. And there should be no one calling him dad.
He looked over and saw a kid who was somewhere between the age of 10 and 13 sorting through his stack of paperwork.
"Pardon me, but do you mind explaining what you're doing?"
The kid looked up and raised a brow in confusion.
"Um, morning paperwork?" He laughed nervously. "Wait did you forget that….uh, nevermind, I'll just go then."
The kid hastily made the papers into a pile, grabbed a backpack, and started to hustle out of the office. Only to be stopped when he bumped into you as you were storming into the office.
"Crowley! You promised you'd fix my goddamn roof!"
"Dad said I wasn't grounded anymore!"
Both of you shouted over the top of each other, and then stared in confusion.
The kid sprinted out of the office, knocking you over in the process.
Dire, meanwhile, released a delighted giggle, his face feeling warm as he grinned at you with a lovesick grin. Only to be annoyed as you brought up your roof again.
"If you excuse me, I have other things to attend to. I assure you that child will only cause trouble."
He ran out of his own office, no intention of actually finding his future son, only intending to hide from you.
Too bad you could always see through him, and were right on his tail.
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Familiar & Unfamiliar
din djarin x female!reader
warning: attempted sexual assault (not by our boy mando, and i don’t describe it in depth the furthest it goes is non-consensual kissing), light smut, angst then comfort, then fluff fluff fluff, identity theft, mentions of slave trade, canon violence, dom!din trying hard to be sub!din for you, he doesn’t succeed for long
word count: 4,174
Summary: You travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian who is much softer than his impenetrable beskar would lead others to believe. He leaves you with his son to search for a Quarry, but it’s not the Mando you’ve come to know and love who returns to you.
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“It shouldn’t take long.” Mando hummed as he collected his gear from his weapon’s storage. You sat cross legged on the Razor Crest’s floor with the child in your lap. His small green hand played with the small, metal ball he seemed to always find. Your hand stroked his ears only stopping to push the ball away from his mouth when he began to try and chew on it. Mando turned around to stare down at you. “Will you be alright here?”
After traveling with the Mandalorian for the last two months, babysitting and completing repairs on the ship, you had finally grown accustomed to the silver beskar covered man. Initially it had been difficult for you to even look at the man for longer than a second⏤ too intimidated by the black t-shape visor that stared back at you. However, joining him had been your only option at the time, an act of self preservation, so you had to push your fear aside. Luckily, you had quickly learned that though the metal he was covered in was impossible to penetrate, the man underneath was as soft as they come.
You learned that the solemn, silent, and dangerous facade Mando wore was more or less an interpretation of what people saw. Yes, he was dangerous. You had seen him wrestle quarries three time his size and come out unscathed, but you had also seen him humming a song under his breath while giving the child a bath. You had seen Mando go out of his way to purchase you a new pair of boots in the market simply because he noticed your discomfort with your current pair. The brief times you felt his touch, a brush against your arm or a hand on your back, it was soft and comforting. His eyes were impossible to see behind his helmet, but you could feel the care in his gaze. Having Mando’s attention on you felt like safety.
Mando called out your name and you blinked in surprise. “Oh, um, yeah! We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“I shouldn’t be gone long. Days at most.” He reassured before you could even ask. You stood up and Mando drifted closer⏤ his gloved hand reached out brush the child’s head. Mando chuckled when his son cooed and giggled in response. You heard a long time ago that the best judge of a person’s character was how they treated animals and children. Mando passed that test with flying colors. “You remember the rules?”
“Hmm, no running with scissors?” You joked. Mando tilted his head and you chuckled. “Don’t open the Razor Crest’s ramp for anyone but you, and if I do have to leave for some emergency, get to a crowded spot with plenty of witnesses and talk to no one. Not until you come for us.”
Mando nodded in approval. He gave the child’s head one last pet along the ears and as his hand pulled away you felt his leather covered fingers drag down the length of your bare arm. Heat crept up the back of your neck and you prayed to any deity that was listening that Mando hadn’t heard the hitch in your breath. You were not attracted to your metal armored Mandalorian employer and friend. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. 
Without another word, Mando made his way to the back of the cargo hold. He opened the ramp before heading down and you called out for him to be careful. Mando glanced over his shoulder, at you and the child, and you waved. You stood at the cargo hold’s edge as Mando pressed a button on his gauntlet and the ramp began to rise. As the metal door rose, you stared at the mandalorian’s back until the ramp cut him off from sight.
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Din was more distracted than usual and he told himself it wasn’t because of the newest addition to the Razor Crest. It obviously wasn’t because of you. No, he was just busy with all the bounties he was juggling and the stress of trying to find the child’s people. Then the added dilemma of his current quarry. Already he had been on the flesh trader’s trail for three days. Three full days. That was nothing in comparison to past hunts that would take him weeks on end, but Din found his patience wearing very, very thin.
“Are you ready yet, mate?” A voice asked through the closed door. 
Din had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His only lead came from a mercenary who was hunting an Inner Rim politician that had come all the way out here to participate in the slave trade. It was the only access Din would have to get into the market to find his quarry and it came at a cost. Din glanced down at the helmet held in his hands. It was an oddly shaped red thing from Kaleesh culture. His new mercenary partner made it very clear that if he walked in as a Mandalorian everything would be lost. On any normal bounty Din would’ve risked it anyways. There was very little in the galaxy that could coax him out of his armor, leave him bare to the world, but a child in danger did it. 
A mother had come to him after he searched for a lead in the local cantina on his first night. She had fallen to her knees in front of him and begged for his help⏤ she offered everything she owned and more in return. Her only child, an eleven year old little girl, had been stolen away from her. Dragged to the flesh market to be sold. Din swore to her that he’d bring her back. On his word as a Mandalorian, she would be reunited with her daughter. He just wasn’t allowed to do it looking like a Mandalorian.
“Seriously, mate, we’re going to be late!” Trigg, the mercenary, barked once more.
Din settled the helmet over his head and shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t fit quite like his real one did, but it was tight enough that he wasn’t worried about it falling off in the heat of battle. For a second, he just stared at himself in the mirror. Red armor of cloth and leather covered every inch of his skin, black gloves pulled on tight, and his oddly shaped helmet covered his face entirely. Din hated it more than anything. But, the sooner he saved the girl and caught his quarry, the sooner he could return to his ship. Return to the child and you.
“I’ll be right out.” Din called back. He settled all his beskar armor pieces into the tarp bag he had borrowed from the child’s mother. It was her home they were using as a base of sorts. Din hid the bag in the closet of the room behind a stack of boxes. It made him anxious to leave his armor behind, but he forced himself to step away and open the door.
Trigg stood in the hall wearing his own personal gear. The blond man had scars from a raking claw on the side of his head leaving those patches with sparse hair. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared at Din in a mix of annoyance and impatience. “Finally. Did you have to do your hair?”
“It’s you we’re waiting on now.” Din replied dryly as he marched past the man to the door.
The sooner, the better.
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Night had fallen for the third night of Mando being gone. It was too soon for you to be worried about him, but a ball of anxiety still sat in your gut. He had been away for longer periods of time before. The longest thus far being three weeks. You were mumbling a soft song under your breath as you rocked the child to sleep. When his eyes drifted close, you carefully set him in the hammock above Mando’s bunk and tucked a blanket around him. 
When you were certain that the kid was settled, you drifted toward the fresher to get ready for bed yourself. You wondered what it would take to convince Mando to pick up a bounty on a planet with an ocean soon. Going from the lava plains of Nevarro to the deserts of Tatooine and now this dusty Outer Rim world was bleak. You missed water. You had grown up near a river on your homeworld and spent a decent amount of time there. It wasn’t until you saw dry planet after dry planet that you truly began to appreciate natural bodies of water.
You shrugged out of your clothes, tossing them aside, and slid into a pair of shorts and one of Mando’s shirts. It had been borrowed early on in your travels and now it belonged more to you than it did him. The dark shirt was large enough to cover most of your shorts. You had been in the middle of washing your face when you heard the tell tale sound of the ramp. Quickly, you grabbed a towel and dried your face while rushing out of the fresher.
Mando was walking up the ramp just as you entered the cargo hold and you shot him a smile, “Hey, Mando.” He came to a sudden stop. You glanced around but saw no evidence of a quarry behind or near him. Had they gotten away? “What happened with the quarry?”
The Mandalorian crossed his arms and a nervous energy settled over your skin. The way he stood just seemed…off. And, the silence that surrounded him wasn’t the usual comfortable quiet you had grown used to. Mando’s helmet tilted some, as if his eyes were raking over your form, and you tugged on the bottom of your shirt anxiously. This was an outfit you wore to sleep every night on the Razor Crest, but right now was the first time you felt uncomfortable having it on around Mando.
“Are you⏤Are you injured?” You asked.
Mando strolled closer to you. Another bit of him that wasn’t right⏤ his gait. As you tried to gather your thoughts, he came to a stop right in front of you. Nearly chest to chest. A lump had formed in your throat, mouth dry, and you tried to swallow it down. Being around Mando always made your stomach feel as if it were filled with butterflies, made your heart race out of your chest, made an addicting warmth pool in your core. 
That was not how you felt right now.
Your hand reached out, as quickly as you could manage it, and slammed against the lock button of Mando’s bunk. The metal door slid down. It clicked into place, and the Mandalorian in front of you grabbed you by the throat and shoved you back until you slammed into the Razor Crest’s wall. You clawed at the familiar, gloved hand tightening around your throat as a low, unfamiliar chuckle rumbled through the modulator.
“What’s wrong, baby?” A voice that did not belong to your Mandalorian asked. “Aren’t you happy to see me? You were a minute ago.”
“Wh⏤Who⏤” You tried to spit out but you could barely breathe let alone form words.
“I’m your Mandalorian, baby.” The cruel laugh coming out from behind the t-shape visor you found comfort in felt so very wrong. He yanked you off the wall and released your throat. You managed to gasp a single breath of air before he backhanded you across the face hard enough to see stars. You fell to your knees and elbows roughly, a cry of pain leaving your lips, but you struggled to find a weapon of any kind. “That’s right. Crawl away, baby. Run. I’m a Mandalorian who likes to hunt, and now you’re my prey. How’s that sound?”
Your hand found a screwdriver, lying off to the side where you had been working on something under the floorboard earlier, just as he kicked you in the side to flip you over. The imposter knelt on the ground over you and you tried to stab him where only the flight suit sat. Unfortunately, he turned fast enough that the screwdriver struck beskar and did absolutely nothing. He laughed once more as you gave up the attack to try and slip away, but he grabbed your hands by the wrist and pinned you to the ground. The imposter sat on top of your thighs, kneeling over you, and you were forced to stare at your reflection in Mando’s armor.
It would be a bold faced lie for you to say you hadn’t daydreamed about having the beskar armor on top of you⏤ the weight of it pressing into you in every delicious way you could think of. But not like this. Not with a stranger inside of it. 
“Who knew the ship came with such a pretty little whore.” The imposter hummed. He shifted your arms so he could pin both your wrists with one hand. With his other, he grasped the bottom of the beskar helmet and pulled it off.  The man’s eyes were a piercing blue. Cold and cruel. Blond hair covered his scalp except on the side of his head where the scars of what looked like claw marks sat. He tossed the helmet aside and gave you a sickening grin. “Is that what you’re here for? You keep the Mandalorian’s bed warm? Let him fuck you when he’s done with a hunt?”
“Get the kriff off of me!” You struggled against his grip, against his touch, but nothing seemed to deter him from using his other hand to run over your body. You screamed until you were hoarse and when you cried out for Mando the man sitting on top of you just laughed. Faintly, you could hear frantic tapping behind Mando’s bunk door and fear struck you. Was the child awake? He wouldn’t be able to unlock the door from inside you didn’t think. 
It seemed the imposter was too immersed in you to hear the sound. 
“How about this,” The man leaned closer into your space, “I get a quick taste of you now, and then, once we’re up and in hyperspace, I’ll fuck you better than your Mando ever could, yeah?”
His lips crashed down on yours roughly. You tried to turn your face away, but the imposter bit down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Between the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue and the smell of his rancid breath you were going to be sick. You gasped in pain and he took advantage by shoving his tongue into your mouth. He pressed his hips down into you, grinding against your stomach now, and the feel of his erection pressing into you made a horrified sob slip form you. It seemed to only spurn him on further. He let go of one of your hands to grasp at the waistband of your pants.
The sound of sprinting footsteps made the imposter sit up and you were barely able to register what was happening when a body dressed in red leather slammed into the beskar covered imposter⏤ both men falling away. Taking advantage of your freedom, you scrambled back as quickly as you could. The stranger dressed in red, wearing an oddly shaped helmet that covered his face, had a hand wrapped around the imposter’s throat while his other fist pounded away at the man’s face. Grunts of anger filled the air with every blow thrown and the imposter fought back only for a moment before his body went slack.
You scrambled away further but your back hit a metal crate sitting in the cargo hold. It shifted slightly and the sound made the stranger sit up and spin around. You gasped⏤panicked. Heart still racing. The imposter laid motionless. His face bruised, broken, and bloody beyond all recognition. You were breathing hard, trying to suck in more air as the air you did get brought no relief. The stranger jumped up, motions smooth and agile, and rushed to you. A cry of fear left you as you tried to pathetically jump up, but his hands wrapped around you. Soft, but firm. A comforting weight.
“It’s me. It’s me. You’re safe, mesh’la.” A familiar voice came out of the unfamiliar mask. The bright red and angry shapes still jarring to look at and you tried to struggle away. He pulled away to rip off his gloves. One hand came to rest on the side of your face, while the other lifted the red helmet just enough to reveal a jaw covered in dark scruff and lips. “Listen to me, mesh’la. You’re safe. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s me. I’m here.”
You were still shaking, your entire body threatening to tremble into pieces, but your breaths were beginning to grow controlled. The warm hand on your face was grounding. It was familiar. You couldn't see the man’s eyes, but you could feel his soft gaze. Safe. You felt safe.
“M⏤Mando?” You gasped.
“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m here, mesh’la. You’re safe now.”
You broke into an uncontrollable sob, unable to bite it back, and Mando didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms. The coarse, red armor you buried your face into felt unfamiliar, but the strong arms that wrapped around you felt right.
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For the first time, Din felt uncomfortable in his helmet. It smelled of the spice that Trigg disgustingly chewed on. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull his armor on. It left him in a pair of plain sweats and shirt. After setting you in his bunk, the child curled into your side, he had stripped the mercenary out of his beskar and thrown the piece of shit into the carbonite freezer.
The job had gone so well then so bad. Din found the young Rodian child and killed his quarry. He’d only get half the bounty with the flesh trader dead, but something was better than nothing. The moment he returned the girl to her mother his heart had stopped when he realized his armor was missing. Din had sprinted to the Razor Crest, faster than he had ever run, and still he hadn’t come soon enough. 
Din stepped out of the fresher. The Razor Crest was in hyperspace and the cargo hold was dark. The only light spilling from the open door behind him. The sound of whimpering filled the otherwise silent space around him. Din hurried to the bunk to see you tossing and turning. He scooped the child up and set him in the hammock before crawling in to try and calm you.
He called out your name, bare hands on your shoulders, and when your eyes snapped open, thanks to his visor, he could see clearly the way panic and fear filled them. You screamed and began to swing at him. His helmet. It was his helmet. Without thinking, Din ripped his helmet off and threw it out of the bunk. Din pulled you into his arms again, pressing your face to his shoulder, and whispered reassurances.
“It’s me, Mesh’la. It’s me. I’m sorry. I was wearing the helmet. You’re safe, I promise.”
“Mando?” You breathed. He buried his hand in your hair and pulled you tighter into his chest. As if the two of you weren’t already tangled together in the small confines of his bunk. “I’m sorry I hit you⏤”
“It didn’t hurt. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you alone. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Din didn’t know which emotion waged in him the most⏤ guilt or anger. They were neck and neck. You took in a deep shaky breath and your hot breath on his neck made him sigh in relief. You were safe in his arms. Din rubbed your back and the question fell out before he could hold it back. “Did he… Mesh’la, did⏤”
“No.” You whispered. “You got here just in time.”
Din could feel tears soaking into his shirt. When the tears stopped, Din coaxed you out of the bunk and onto the cargo hold floor. He grabbed a first aid kit and rushed back so you weren’t left alone for too long. The only light still came from the open door of the fresher and he sat so his back was to it. The dim light illuminated your features and it was like a spotlight to the injuries you sported. He had told you that you could open your eyes. With the way you sat, it’d be too dim for you to see his face, but you said you didn’t want to risk it. 
He let his fingers trace the forming bruise surrounding your right eye. It trailed down to brush against the torn skin of your lower lip. Dank farrik. That kriffing fucker had bit you. He could see the outline of teeth. Din’s jaw clenched. He grabbed a bit of bacta and rubbed it gently into the forming bruise. He was going to do the same for your lower lip when you stopped him.
“Did I hurt you?” He blurted.
“No, no. Not that.” You mumbled. “Can I… Can I ask you for a favor?”
“Anything, mesh’la. Anything.”
“Can you kiss me?” You asked. Din was certain he had misheard you. It was why he sat in silence. He was trying to puzzle out what it was you had actually said. You spoke again, nervous, “You don’t have to. I⏤I…”
“You want me to…kiss you?”
You nodded. Eyes still closed lightly. “I know it’s dumb. It⏤ I just don’t want to feel his lips anymore. I don’t want the taste of him on me.”
“That’s not dumb, mesh’la.” 
Din settled one of his hands on the side of your face. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Din began to lean in. He didn’t want to startle you. He wanted to give you every opportunity to pull away if you needed to. Din would be lying to himself, again, if he said he hadn’t imagined the way your lips would feel on him. But not like this. He hated that these were the circumstances, but there wasn’t a single thing Din wouldn’t do for you if you asked.
His nose brushed against yours. Din was close enough that he could feel your lips part. He waited one second more before pressing his lips softly against yours. One of your hands lifted to tangle in his hair and a simple gesture shouldn’t make him feel so hot under his skin. The kiss was slow and tender. Din was terrified to press too hard and bring you pain. The injury to your lower lip still so fresh. And after what you had just suffered through, he wanted you to have all the control. If you needed to use him to rid yourself of that nightmare, to erase the memory that bastard left on your lips, then he would. 
Your tongue brushed against his lower lip, tracing it, and he parted his lips for you giving you room to explore him. Maker, the taste of you was so sweet. It took every single ounce of Din’s self control to not deepen the moment even further. The kiss grew almost frantic. A hand in his hair and another at the back of his neck to pull him into you. You pulled back just enough to suck in a sharp breath before your lips was back on his and Din lost his battle for self control.
He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. Din was caught off guard when you pushed down to press yourself against his already hard cock, but it was a welcome surprise. He grabbed your hips, hands tightening into the soft skin there, and grinded into you. You moaned into his mouth and Din pulled away briefly so he could press open mouth kisses along your jaw then down your neck until he reached your shoulder. Thoughtlessly, he bit down, wanting to leave evidence of himself on you, and you let out a sharp gasp while grinding into him again. Din ran his tongue against the bite soothingly. 
Din’s hands slipped under your shirt and he desperately let his lips find yours once more. His tongue slipped past your lips, but then he tasted it. The sharp, metallic tang of blood. Din pulled back quickly realizing his plan to let you run the show had gone to shit. Both of you were breathless. 
“Are you okay, mesh’la??” He pulled one hand away from your hip to touch your face. His thumb brushed against your lower lip and in the dim light he could see the tint of red. 
“Thank you.” You breathed. You leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss that missed and only landed on the corner of his lips. Then you leaned your head on his shoulder and just took slow breaths. Din let his knuckles drag up and down your spine. He could feel your entire body going limp as you melted into his hold. You mumbled, “Thank you, Mando.”
“Din.” He replied, but he didn’t know if you had already fallen asleep or not. “Call me Din.”
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tmntxthings · 1 year
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Fun fact: Turtles touch/tap the face of their partner as a form mating display, so can we get some head canons of the rise boys unconsciously/involuntarily touching their s/o face, like cupping their cheeks with one or both hands habitually whenever they're in arms length or tapping/brushing the back of their hand on s/o cheek to get their attention?
Turtle Taps
author’s note: here you are cute anon!! i was smitten with this idea but it only came to fruition bc of @marwhoa’s encouragement hehe
warnings: fluff, kisses, established relationships, unedited
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Leonardo
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he would poke
idk but i imagine when the two of you were close friends, borderline dating, he’d ‘annoy’ you by poking your face, especially those chubby cheeks of yours
you would complain, batting his hands away, and as friends that was fine but when the two of you started dating it would hurt his feelings
“I can’t help it!” “You’re just too cute!” He’d repeat those excuses, not truly explaining the full meaning behind his repeated actions. And Leo would’ve never told you!
The two of you were dozed off during a movie marathon in the projector room. Laying in bean bags that were pressed together, Leo had made sure his was close to yours. He woke up first and as he turned to see your sleeping form his hands went out on their own accord.
Cupping your cheeks gently and his thumbs giving soft taps. He felt so happy when you snuggled your face further into his hands. So happy in fact that he couldn’t help it when he started poking those chubby cheeks
Your eyes snapped open, “Leo!” You grumped, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep. His hands would freeze, his eyes widening, feeling badly about having gotten caught and your rejection as you batted his hands away once again.
He quickly got up, mumbling an excuse about getting something to eat. His immediate reaction had you sitting up, feeling guilty for having hurt his feelings you finally did a google search.
‘Why do turtles tap faces?’ Upon further research after being so utterly shocked at the initial results. You felt like a fool. You got up, blushing furiously as you rushed to the kitchen. Leo was faced away from you but he heard your approach and asked if you wanted something to eat as well. “We got leftover piz-
He stopped short as he felt your hands encase his face. Then hesitantly only out of nerves, you started to lightly tap his green cheeks. Leo was a churring mess, moving too fast so he could turn to see you. You pulled back and he was smiling brightly, face awaiting for you to continue your earlier actions
So you complied, hands going out once more and you tapped his cheeks, the smile Leo gave you practically blinded you. “You could’ve told me what this actually meant!” You complained, poking his cheeks in the same annoying way he would, but he’d just nuzzle his face into your touches
“Yeah I guess I could’ve,” he mused. He had been too embarrassed to just say it. That and he just wasn’t the type to admit the truth that easily. But if he had known your reaction would’ve been this he’d have spilled sooner. You smile and shake your head, stilling your hands and pulling him close to plant a sweet kiss to his snout.
Michelangelo
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Mikey would squish your face in pure excitement. He’s just so happy, he can’t contain himself, he’s squishing your cheeks together.
He could be on the whole other side of the room, or not in the same space at all, but he’ll run through the lair, find you at random and squish your cheeks together squealing about something that excited him.
Definitely happens so much that you’ve accepted it at this point, you’ll see him barreling towards you (yes he’s tackled you to the ground a couple times when you weren’t prepared for him to jump you!) and accept your fate
You try to play it off sometimes like you’re annoyed but truthfully it’s just so cute and endearing, when he’s reallyyyyy happy or when the two of you are alone he’ll squish your cheeks together and peck your lips with a soft kiss. A flurry of them too, you’re not just getting one kiss
Many many swift kisses in rapid session, and let’s say he just won in a video game, the arcade room empty except for you two, he’ll give the room a quick scan before he’s on you
“Y/n!!!! I wonnn !! Hehe did ya see??” He squishes your cheeks together while he speaks and as soon as he’s done he’s kissing you before you can answer, you hadn’t seen him win, you were playing your own game but he didn’t need to know that
Once he parted you spoke though your speech sounded slightly off because he still had his hands cupping your face, squishing, “ ‘hat’s awesome Mikey” he’d blush, coming down from the excitement
It was like his thoughts would come after he took action, taking note of his hands and how his lips felt, he’d pull you closer, slower this time and giving you a breath-taking smooch
Only this time he had forgotten to glance around beforehand so he flinched as he heard the snap of a camera. “Oh don’t mind me lovebirds, just documenting for future-“ Leo stopped midway realizing Mikey was actually quite close all of the sudden
“Give that here!! Leo!!” Mikey yelled chasing after his older brother. Of course it had been Leo, laughter and yelling could be heard throughout the lair and you were sure everyone would be witnessing this spectacle, you chuckled strolling at a leisure pace after your orange clad turtle
Donatello
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Donnie brushes you with his hand
It doesn’t happen often and when it happens it surprises Donnie the most out of the two of you
He’ll be overthinking or had gotten so overworked that Donnie will blink and suddenly you’re in front of him with worried eyes, your mouth moving but he doesn’t hear anything as his hands reach out as if by instinct and he’s brushing the back of his hand against your cheek
He’s blinking slowly and watching your expression soften as you gingerly do the same to him, giving him time to move away if he doesn’t want your touch. But this time he does want it, he’s exhausted honestly but as soon as he feels your fingers brushing against his green cheek he’s sighing
Like he’s expelling all the stress and worries he had minutes earlier, he’s leaning into your touch and it’s like his battery that was depleted is now recharging
He stays there, nuzzling his face into your hand as Donnie continues brushing or just holding your face close to his own. Once he’s charged though he’ll blink and suddenly remember himself, pulling back sharply and blushing a darker green
Coughing into his fist as you pull back, smirking at his embarrassed reaction, “How about we eat some pizza and you go to bed? Hmmm Donatello??” Teasing him no doubt but making sure he understands that it’s probably best to take a break from his projects
“Sure, sure.” Donnie’s standing stiffly, one hand coming up to cover another fit of embarrassed coughs as he swiftly leaves the lab, you follow him smiling to yourself as your own cheeks felt warm.
Raphael
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Raph gives you light taps
He’s always treating you with an extra amount of care. He’d never forgive himself if he was the cause to your pain.
Raph isn’t as shy as he is with his feelings towards tapping you, but he is similar in a way that he doesn’t do it super often
If you’re around and the two of you aren’t alone he’ll probably hold himself back but if you are alone he likes greeting you with light taps to your cheek
He’ll be a blushing mess, eyes cast everywhere but at you and Raph will give you sweet gentle taps, he only makes eye contact when your hands cover his, giggling at his expression
“Still so shy even after all this time?” You quip and Raph gives you a bashful grin, “Only with this!” And he’ll kiss you easily to prove the point. He definitely isn’t shy about that which shocks you more since these cute taps don’t seem that embarrassing
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ronwestbreeze · 11 months
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too fast
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pairing: miguel o'hara x spider!fem!reader warnings: more angst summary: he should've stopped you... word count: 2.4k author's note: this will be the last installment! since we don't know what happens after atsv we're gonna leave it here for now! thanks for giving too slow so much and i hope you enjoy part 2!
part 1
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If Miguel O’Hara had to guess, it all started going downhill when you accidentally discovered that your sister was going to die. It wasn’t supposed to happen, you finding out. Like everything else in a Spider person’s life, it was a canon event that was bound to happen, a significant event that would truly make you who you were now. The White Spider. An event that would happen naturally, like all tragic ones do.
Because the truth was, they happen. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.
That’s what Miguel tried to tell you. That if you tried to interfere, then your dimension would unravel just as his did. He didn’t want that for you. Couldn’t want that for you. There were worse fates and that was one of them.
But of course, you were determined.
“Don’t tell me to stand by and let it happen, Miguel, all because of some stupid canon shit. Don’t tell me that.” You gritted out as you stalked down the hall, him right behind you.
“I am, Domino.” Miguel argued desperately. “I am telling you not to endanger your dimension over something that is supposed to happen. I am doing this to protect you—“
You whirled around on him, causing Miguel to stop short in front of you, “This is your way of protecting me? By telling me to stand by and let my sister die all because of some computer program?! Be fucking for real, Miguel!”
“Yes, because I know the dangers of what’s going to happen if you—”
“No, Miguel, no you don’t.” It hurt, your words. You knew what he had gone through, what he had lost. But you were too stubborn. He knew this. “I’m gonna try. Because that’s what we do. We try even if the odds are against us. That’s what all this shit that happened to me has led up to, right? Why stop now?”
It wasn’t like Miles Morales. No, this was before he learned that there were more forceful ways to stop something like this from happening.
He should’ve stopped you.
But things just fell apart too fast for him to keep up in the end.
Miguel practically dove through the portal to your dimension with Jessica and a few other Spider-men at his side. The crisis was a disaster. The Brooklyn Bridge was halfway in the water, cars either destroyed or hanging by black webs made by you. Immediately, Miguel and the others played damage control. There was yet another villain that had escaped their world and fell into another. This time it was a Green Goblin. One large enough to do this much damage.
It didn’t take long for Miguel to spot your white suit swinging about frantically, your head turning quickly every second. Which meant he had arrived just in time to stop you from making the biggest mistake you could’ve ever made for yourself and your universe. Miguel kept his eyes glued to you while leading people to safety. Until he spotted your sister’s car being thrown up in the air, quickly being caught by your black webs.
You were at the top of the bridge, trying to convince your sister to calm down, revealing your identity to her. Miguel landed on top of the bridge, you sent him a scowl and raised your hand, “Don’t!”
“You know what will happen, Domino.” He tried warning you. “One life or an entire universe? Over other families? Other brothers and sisters? What then?!”
You ignored him and shot a web down to your sister to grab onto. “If I don’t do this, then I will never forgive myself. I’m not like you, Miguel.” You looked at him pleadingly, desperately. “I can’t—”
The green hulking figure hurtled right into you, taking both you and Miguel off guard.
Your grip on your sister slipped but she was able to grab onto another web and hold on while you were preoccupied with the Green Goblin. A wave of rage—fear?—hit Miguel as he dashed toward the ugly beast, using his whole weight to throw it off of you and tackled it down to the ground.
“You don’t get to touch her!” He growled, pounding the goblin’s face until it was finally unconscious.
The bridge began to fall. Jessica began ordering every spider person around to quickly gather all the civilians left on the bridge. The top of the bridge where your sister was hanging began to crumble and Miguel watched as you swung back toward her.
He should’ve stopped this long before. He shouldn’t have let it get this far.
You were already dashing across the top of the bridge, Miguel had ended up behind you in seconds. You glanced over your shoulder at him, “Miguel, don’t!”
But he ignored you and shot his scarlet webs toward your figure. But of course, you were quicker than him, You always were.
His webs had missed. The web holding your sister up snapped. She was falling.
And you had dived after her.
Miguel leaped off the bridge, shot a thick web toward you and above him. In seconds the fall had stopped. You were now hanging and attached to Miguel’s web while the other half of his web kept him attached to what was left of part of the bridge.
But your webs had already been released.
You had already caught her.
No. No. No. No. No.
You had been too fast for him.
When the adrenalin cooled down a bit, you shot your head up at him, the angered glare evident on your face, “Were you really about to fucking stop me?!”
Instead of acknowledging your anger, Miguel shot back, “Do you realize what you’ve done?!”
“I saved my sister!”
“You’ve given your universe a death sentence!” Miguel shouted. “Why do you have to be so fucking selfish?!”
“Selfish?!” You snapped. Now you were quite pissed. Truly, he had never seen you this angry before now. He supposed that it made sense that it would be him to cause this. There had been many close calls. Now, it was different. You couldn’t keep your resolve. “I didn’t invade another universe and replace a girl’s father! Did you ever think that your situation was different?! Did you ever think that what you did was a lot worse than me saving my sister?! You can’t project your problems onto me, Miguel. It’s not the same and you know it—”
“Did it ever occur to you that I did this because I love you?” Miguel hissed. “Did it ever occur to you that I couldn’t bear to watch you lose everything over the same mistake I made?! Did it, Domino? Did you ever stop and think—”
“Wait.” He realized then that you weren’t looking at him anymore. Instead you were looking down. At the end of your web. “If I screwed everything up, then how come my dimension isn’t unraveling?”
The way you asked this, the way you posed the question made him go silent for a moment. Because he just then realized things weren’t changing. Other than the chaos that was happening around them already, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. No holes in the dimension. Nothing disappearing.
“I….” Miguel looked back to you, “I….M-Miguel I saved her, didn’t I?”
He still couldn’t respond.
You reached your web up and tied it to Miguel’s wrist before snapping his web attached to you apart.
“Domino—”
But he watched you fall toward the bottom.
It didn’t take him long to get there too. It didn’t take him long to see the limp body attached to the end of your web. It didn’t take him long to realize that your universe wouldn’t unravel any time soon.
Your sister was dead. Just like it was supposed to….
This was supposed to be better. This was supposed to be what kept you and your universe safe.
Miguel O’Hara always made the tough calls. The decisions that no one else could.
So why did it feel like the dimension was tearing itself apart in front of his eyes? Why did it feel like you were going to disappear at any second? Why did it feel like he had already lost you even though you were right there.
He did. He lost you.
You slipped from his fingers so fast…
“Is this what you wanted?” A weak whisper left your lips, your back still turned to him.
There were no words he could say that could fix any of it.
Miguel removed his mask, so that you could see his face. So that you could see how sincere he was. Only for you to see. Only you mattered in that moment.
“Sometimes you can’t stop what’s meant to happen.” When you glanced over your shoulder at him, when you looked at him through glassy eyes—your mask now gone—it made the words a lot harder to force out, “I never wanted any of this. Not like this…”
Jessica and the others arrived but didn’t say anything. Jessica had been one of the people on Miguel’s side about the whole ordeal, but even she was smart enough not to say anything. You were already hurting too much.
You glared at him through the water falling from your eyes, you glared at Jessica, you glared at all of them.
“Well, congratulations.”
“Y/N…” Jessica tried, only she went silent when she noticed your sister’s body limp behind you. There was nothing to be said.
You tore off your bracelet and threw it at Miguel’s feet. “You saved the canon, O’Hara. You should be proud.”
After that, you stopped coming to HQ. Except for that one time when you announced you were quitting the society for good. After that he stopped seeing the White Spider swinging around your dimension and stopping bad guys. The only time he saw you don your suit was to fight a new villain called the Electro. After that, he hadn’t seen you in the newspapers nor social media ever again.
This wasn’t something he really didn’t see coming. Frankly, he wasn’t even sure if the canon knew this was what exactly would happen after your sister’s death. That you would just stop being the White Spider. That you would give it all up.
Fuck. Of course this would be the last straw. He knew you. He met your sister multiple times.
You weren’t like Miguel. You would not bounce back easily. That was never you.
He should’ve stopped it. He shouldn’t have let it get that far…
The fight on the train didn’t last for long. Like you had said beforehand, you hadn’t planned on fighting him. Only keeping him at bay so that Miles was given time to go back to his dimension. So you had gotten your licks in, getting to kick your man’s ass was something so refreshing and should’ve happened sooner if you were being honest.
You landed a few kicks at Miguel—his waist, face, and legs—before he grabbed you and threw you off the train. But you fell gracefully, knowing that you had done your part. So you entered your data into your bracelet, a portal appearing behind you.
“He’s just a kid, Miguel.” You called.
The last thing you saw was Miguel, an unreadable expression on his face as you disappeared through the portal.
Gwen had recruited you to help Miles a couple hours after you had gotten back to your dimension. Apparently, he had been sent to the wrong Earth so now it was your job to track him down and help him complete his goal. Helping him succeed at something that you couldn’t.
So before you started this long fight, the long journey ahead, you went to your sister’s grave. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were here. After the funeral, you weren’t sure you even came here alone yourself. Just to see her.
It hurt too much before. It only just kept reminding you how much you failed. Why you stopped being the White Spider. Why your relationship with Miguel could never quite be the same.
Your spine shuddered and you turned your head slightly away from your sister’s grave. “It’s kind of insensitive to do a sneak attack when I’m visiting my sister, O’Hara.”
Behind you, Miguel stood a little further away. His mask was off. You didn’t move from your sister’s grave and he didn’t move from where he stood. The two of you took to staring at each other for a long moment.
Since it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything first, you sighed, “Don’t act so surprised. I thought you knew me better than that—”
“I thought I did too.” Miguel scowled, though the harshness was mixed with something looser. Something that would’ve made you crumble on the spot.
You cleared away some of the dead rose petals from the last bouquet of flowers that were left here, “Is that what you came here for? To berate me  into changing my mind? I’m convinced already—”
“I’m not here to convince you. How can I do that when you won’t listen to reason?” Miguel hissed. “If you are willing to die over this, destroy another universe, then…” You looked at him fully then. Perhaps you were too far away to see, perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn his eyes were red. Not from his unique abilities.
The emotion in his eyes, god you wanted to look away. You didn’t want your resolve to fail again. Not this time.
This time was too important.
“Then what?” You asked him quietly.
Miguel never responded to your question. He ducked his head down for a moment. The words that left his mouth almost barely audible. “How many times will I have to lose you, Domino? How many times will you leave me?”
You stood and slowly inched toward the man. Cautiously, you gently grabbed his face once you were close enough and leaned your forehead against his. Your thumb caressed his cheek. His larger hands wrapped around you until his face is buried into your neck, practically inhaling your scent.
God, it was always like this. One moment you were in each other’s arms and in the next throwing each other off of trains or running until neither of you could run anymore. Moments like this, the gentle, the quiet. It never lasted.
In the next moment Miguel wasn’t in your arms anymore. You weren’t on your Earth anymore. Now you were flying about in search for Miles, hoping to find him before Miguel and his gang did. You were never sure when the two of you would ever find that semblance of peace again. Those moments were gone in seconds and you were back to the real world. That’s how your cycle went.
That was your canon.
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miyatcha · 5 months
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paper cranes | suguru geto
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naw...its so lowk quality. oh welll :( | fluff | suguru is a canon manspreader LMFAOO
you catch suguru geto folding paper cranes- and that’s the first time you meet him. he sits in the middle of the bench as if he owns the whole thing, a stack of patterned origami paper with a paperweight on top on the side. 
it’s spring, and against the blooming flowers, you think he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. 
“you’re taking an awful lot of space on that bench.” your teasing tone snaps him out of his concentrated task, quick to grab the paper and scoot to one side. 
“sorry- bad habit.” he’s sheepish, and instead of manspreading like before, he sits upright, fumbling with the craft in his hands. you laugh at him, taking a seat on the other side. 
“what’s got you folding cranes in a park?” you take in the stranger next to you.
“helps me take my mind off things. and you?” he glances up, and his dark eyes meet your gaze. 
he’s…breathtaking.
the stranger raises an eyebrow, and you realize you haven’t responded. “reading- and maybe some drawing. I don’t know yet.”
you sit down beside him, not really sure how to continue the conversation, but thankfully, there’s nothing between the two of you that makes things awkward. 
“what are you reading?” showing him the cover of the slice of life/romance book you were halfway through, he smiles. “the ending is worth it, don’t worry.” 
“you’ve read it?” 
he nods, placing the crane in his bag. “i might’ve reread it a couple times.” 
your interest in him grows the more you find out about him. “really? i’ve heard it’s a sad ending.” 
he hums, lost in thought. “well, yes, it’s sad- but good. do you think the main characters should stay together?”
you pause for a moment, mulling over his question. while you were a sucker for happy endings, it just wouldn’t make sense with the type of people they were. 
“no. she was going in a different direction than him- even if they were good for each other, they wouldn’t be happy. so does this mean they don’t end up together?” he shrugs, finishing another crane and adding it to his growing pile. “are you making the cranes for anything?” you change the subject. 
i don’t have the cranes for anything specific, no, but they’re pretty, aren’t they?” he holds a finished one in his palm, with meticulous folds at every edge. you nod, and he smiles, satisfied.
"do you know how to make any?"
"it's honestly been so long- i might know a few steps, but that's it."
he pauses, smoothing over the crane's neck. "i'll teach you the next time i see you around." it's his signal to leave, and as he gathers his things, you finish the page of the book you were reading. when you feel the seat shift, you glance up at the stranger, hoping that deep down, something more would happen.
"it was nice to meeting you..." you realize. “i never got your name.”
“suguru geto. you?” the boy smiles, and his eyes crinkle at the edges.
“___ ___.” you wave to him, ready to tell your friends all about the encounter with the pretty stranger.
when he's no longer in sight, you notice a green crane on the seat, and you’re quick to pick it up and search for him, but he’s disappeared. 
you fold down the wings for him, and find something written on the flaps. it’s his number. 
‘call or text :)’
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earthnashes · 11 months
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Since that last episode of Melon’s Adventure isn’t done yet, here’s something to tide ya’ll over a tad! Concept sketches of the giiiiiiiiirls! owo
I originally wanted to do these three AND Pauline, but I never got around to Pauline so I figured I could go ahead and post these. I’ll probably try to make a full sketchdump for Pauline to make up for her lack of being here though. o3o Anyway, some funfacts and thoughts on these:
I really liked how feisty Peach was in the movie so I decided I wanted to mix that in with how I personally see her. I see Peach as a woman who is unapologetically girly, and has a wild, adventurous side. I tried to make show that by filling her out a little more, largely by giving her more angles than I previously had when I drew her. Basically, a bit more box-y and not entirely soft. owo
Then there's Daisy! Since Peach, Pauline, and Rosalina all have long hair, I wanted to contrast that with Daisy by giving her much much shorter hair. I also tried to make her a little more masculine and a tad rough. Finally, her eyes; nearly every character (with the exception of Bowser) in Super Mario has blue eyes. While I've already broken that canon, I decided to try out something a lil extra with Daisy by giving her red eyes instead the original green I gave her. It surprisingly fits! o3o
And of course Rosalina! I really like her base design, as I do for all the characters honestly. But I also wanted to try and make her look far less like Peach than she does in game, so I played with her facial features a little bit. I wanted her to look visually older than either Peach or Daisy; physically around the same age as Pauline, even if she herself is thousands and thousands of years old. Given my headcanon around her, I was hoping to make her look a little... tired. Being an immortal goddess comes with many pitfalls, one of which is her being kinda lonely, and I was hoping to convey that in her design. She's sweet as she can be, but there's always some sort of longing about her, if that makes sense. Good thing she makes friends this time! ;w; I'm not terribly sure about her hair overall, and her side profile gave me so much trouble, but I think it's in a place I can accept it at least.
But ye! Some design headcanon for ya’ll to chew on. uwu I hope you enjoy! More to come soon! :)
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youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months
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Entangled. // Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Alys Rivers
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MDNI ; reader discretion is advised.
Summary: after so much loss, you had been betrothed and later married off to aemond as a means to put an end to the war, he takes you to harrenhal where you meet his mistress, Alys rivers. What can possibly unfold?
WARNINGS: dubcon (I'm not sure but I'm adding it just to be safe), unprotected sex, p in v sex, slight breeding kink, tiddy sucking, m/f/f, cunnilingus, threesome, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, polygamy(?), witch stuff, aemond x alys, alys x reader, aemond x reader, canon typical incest, war, loss, slight angst, slight fluff, contains spoilers for fire and blood, canon divergence, reader doesn't have a description. + not proofread.
A/N: here's a fic as promised before I leave for 2 weeks due to mid terms! hope you all enjoy it! // divider credit: @cafekitsune
WC: 2.8k
The war was devastating to you and your siblings, having lost both luke and jace, you were terrified for your life as well as your younger sibling's.
You watched as your family fell apart, slowly but surely, all of them ended up dying, leaving you and your younger siblings alone and estranged. The moment you heard your stepfather, daemon's, death; you knew that it was over, there was no more winning anymore.
Especially with Aemond surviving the fight.
Loss, Grief, and Sorrow were emotions you became familiar with.
You had to anyway.
Because with war, there would always be the plague of such pessimistic emotions that would follow, with every news it will only grow stronger.
Alas, the greens ended up winning the war.
And Alicent, as a way to make sure none of this repeats again, has quickly betrothed you to her second son, prince regent, Aemond, while your younger brother Aegon III was betrothed to Jaehaera.
It's not as if you and Aemond were on bad terms before the war, it would rather be described as more… tolerable. Aemond didn't hold any feelings towards you, neither negative nor positive.
Is what you had taught.
Until you found out that halfway through your wedding procession that it was Aemond who proposed the idea of marrying you to him, Alicent had only planned for Aegon and Jaehaera's betrothal.
You exchanged your vows half heartedly, and as soon as the wedding had ended, Aemond wasted no time and immediately whisked you away with him to Harrenhal, which he inherited and resides there to rule rather than at the keep.
You had not spoken a word to him ever since the departure. You did not want to.
Harrenhal looked and felt ominous, everything about it screamed danger, whether it was the rumours about the curses that surrounded this place, or just the overall aesthetics and appearance of it, it scared you.
You knew that it was destroyed and basically melted during Aegon's conquest, but it seemed Aemond had tried his very best to rebuild the place, yet the result was more horrific than it was ‘fixed’ you would've preferred if it had been just left untouched.
Aemond, wanting to go all the way with the formalities, he gave you a tour of the castle, before stopping in front of his chamber, a private residence where only he is allowed, “This is our chamber.” He said.
Ah yes, it also belongs to you now, doesn't it? You are his wife after all. You nodded, not wishing to speak to him, the guard opened the door.
As you both entered inside, there was already a woman who seemed to be waiting, as if she knew you both would be coming. “Aemond, you have returned.” She stood up from her seat, putting the book down, addressing him informally.
Not your grace, my prince or any formal title, just Aemond.
You took note of her appearance, hair as dark as the night sky, eyes that resembled emeralds, donning a valyrian steel necklace.
Alys rivers.
Aemond's mistress.
“Alys, I have not permitted you to enter my chambers.” Aemond speaks calmly, not realising the awkward situation that has occured with you in the room. “Oh come on Aemond, do not be so cold, Is she your wife?” She turned the conversation to you and you wished the ground would swallow you whole because of the tension in the air.
“Yes, she is.” Aemond confirms and she hums, “And you must be his mistress.” You speak, breaking the silence you maintained all throughout, acknowledging her presence, catching her by surprise. “Oh? You're know of me?” she asks and you nod, “How can i not? When there's words of your presence infiltrating every corner of the world, after all, Who could the prince have taken as a mistress after his betrothal to Floris broke?” You question, eyebrows raised, you see Aemond visibly tense, likely feeling the tension now.
“What have you heard of me, Princess?” Alys asks, tilting her head to the side, “That you are very beautiful, eyes that shone brightly like the stars amidst the night sky; that is your hair.” You tell her truthfully making her lips break into a smirk, “And what else?” She doesn't break eye contact, it's your turn to smirk now, “That you must wield powers, which you had used to bewitch the prince.” You watch as her smirk turns into a smile, “What exactly are you implying princess?”
“That you are a witch.” You put implication on the word ‘witch’, Aemond coughs awkwardly and her chuckle breaks the silence and you giggle as well, “And what do you think of it?”
Why was she so curious to know of your opinion?
“Mhm, I cannot speak for everyone, but I do not believe it, I can say that for sure.” You tell her your opinion, “And why is that so?” she asks, “Because- it's just my opinion.” you shrug and she smiles.
“Alys, you can leave now.” Aemond interferes, kicking her out and you give her a smile which she returns as she leaves the chambers. “I apologise.” Aemond expresses his apology. You simply ignore him, not wishing to speak to him.
He sighs in annoyance, “For fucks sake why can't you just talk to me? You were speaking a lot to Alys when she was here.” He breaks his formality and that's when you turn to him, “There you are uncle, I was getting bored with the formality you have shown me, pretending as though nothing happened, that your family did not just kill my family.” You say in anger.
“It's over now.” He says and you scoff, “Over?! What do you mean over?! What about the grief that I carry? The loss of my brothers, my mother, my father??! It's destroying me from the inside out!” You shout and Aemond stands still, looking down as if in regret.
“You are not the only one that has experienced grief.” He murmurs and before you can say anything, he lifts his head up and looks at you in the eyes and you immediately stop yourself from speaking.
That's right.
You aren't the only one that has experienced grief, you suddenly remember helaena and jaehaerys. You bite your lip in thought.
“I'm aware that you have experienced more loss than me, more grief than me, some directly caused by me, but that doesn't mean I'm not a victim of it either.” He sighs, “Either way, there is no use of dwelling over the past, we need to put our differences aside and make this work, you saw what happened. War will only make it worse.”
You hated that he was right.
You watch as he comes closer and you don't move away, he wraps his arms around you, embracing you, it feels so comforting, when was the last time you were held like this? You hug him back, burying your face into him, breathing his scent.
“I, I know this will not solve anything that has happened, or bring your brother back to life, but I apologize, I hope we can put our past behind us.” You hear him speak as you zone out in the comfort of his arms, slowly drifting off to sleep.
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Ever since then, you and Aemond had grown closer a bit, trying your best to make everything work, he had bedded you during the days that followed, consummating your marriage. But he still laid with Alys.
You did not mind, because though you had gotten closer, you didn't always want to be around him and Alys helped you greatly with that, keeping him away from you.
You were sitting in the library of Harrenhal, reading on the chaise until you heard the door open and watched as Alys entered the room. “Greetings Princess.” She bows slightly and you raise your eyebrow, “You can drop the formalities Alys, you referring to me formally while being informal with my husband will make it seem like I'm that one mean wife who has forced herself between two star crossed lovers.” You close the book you were reading and she chuckles, “As you wish, Y/N.” she refers to you by your name and you smile. “What is that you require from me?” You ask and she shrugs, “I simply wanted to see you, see how you are doing.” She says and you nod, “Hmm.” you hum.
“Has anyone ever told you that you are delectable?” She suddenly says and you look at her, “I've gotten compliments, yes, but not to that extent.” you tell her honestly and she hums. “Well, you are extremely pretty. Almost makes me want to-” She interrupts herself with a cough and you raise an eyebrow, “Make you want to?” You question, and she looks at you, “Have you for myself.” She says directly to your face, catching you off guard. “Oh?” You smirk, “You wish to steal me from the prince? He might see it as an offence.” you tease and she chuckles, “Maybe.” She smirks and suddenly it feels as if the entire power dynamic has changed. You clear your throat in an attempt to deviate from this conversation and try to start another one.
Encounters like that had become more frequent with Alys, she was being flirty indirectly, she had even done it in front of Aemond to which he didn't bat an eye to.
You had tried your best to remain composed, only to find yourself in a situation you didn't quite expect.
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Your legs were held spread open by Alys as she laid behind you, your back against her chest, you could feel the softness of her breasts against your back as she kissed your neck.
You gaze falls on Aemond who was currently undressing, he was taking off his breech which revealed his hard cock, to which he gave a few pumps to ease the tension, “Come on Aemond, don't take way too much time.” Alys coos and Aemond obeys, lining his cock to your cunt, sliding it down your fold, gathering the wetness on his cock and later placing his tip against your entrance.
He then slowly pushes inside, causing you to gasp and grip the sheets below, Alys’ hands travel up to your torso and she grabs your breasts, playing with the nipple as she continues placing kisses on your neck.
Aemond fully sheaths himself inside you, grunting when he feels you clench around him, “Fuck, I love this cunt so much.” He groans before drawing his hips back and pushing forward, thrusting. “I know right? Been wanting to taste it for a while, let me at it when you're done.” Alys replies to him, she turns your face sideways and presses her lips against yours, kissing you.
Aemond's tip prods at the sweet spot located inside of you, causing you let out a loud moan into Alys’ mouth to which she chuckles, one of her hands leave your breasts and go to your cunt, she rubs small circles on your clit, elevating the pleasure you're feeling, and before you know it, your orgasm hits you as you come all over his cock, clenching him, causing him to moan and eventually finish inside you. He pulls out slowly, his cock beginning to soften.
Alys is swift in her movements, moving from behind you to facing you from the front, she pushes you further up the bed before lowering herself down to the level where she is face to face with your cunt, she hums in delight as she watches Aemond's spend ooze out from you.
Her tongue collects some of it before she licks a long stripe up to your clit, before engulfing it completely with her moan, which causes you to throw your head back in place. Your hand flies to her head to grip it, your fingers locked in her tresses. You whimper as she pulls on your clit with her mouth, nibbling it. She travels a little down towards your hole and pushes her tongue inside, fucking you with it, her nose rubbing against your clit.
You watch as as Aemond begins to harden again, he positions himself behind Alys, grabbing her by her hips and lifting her lower body up, You feel Alys moan against your cunt as she feels him enter her, her body rocks back and forth as he thrusts into her, she uses your thighs as a leverage to keep her steady, annoyed by the fact that he's using so much force to the point her face keeps leaving your cunt, her tongue swirls around your clit which causes the band in your stomach to snap, you gasp out her name and she moans into your cunt as she reaches her orgasm, teeth clamping down onto your clit but not too harshly yet enough to cause slight sting. Aemond pulls out before he can finish inside her, finishing on her back.
Why did he not finish inside her?
The thought flies over your head as they swiftly change positions again.
Another round? You're already too overstimulated from the previous pleasure.
Aemond lays down and pulls you on top of him, you lay your hands flat against his chest and balance yourself, he lifts your hips up and lines his cock against your entrance again before sinking you down on it, letting out a groan. “Seven hells, I just can't get used to this cunt no matter how many times I take it.” He grunts, “Sit on my face, Alys.” He looks at her and she smiles, immediately obeying, she faces you and you watch as her cunt hovers right above his mouth before she descends to it, his tongue immediately capturing her sex.
You slowly start moving your hips, causing Aemond to groan against her cunt, one of his hands remains firmly on your hip as the other travels to Alys's thigh, gripping it for leverage.
‘This is what heaven probably feels like’ Aemond thinks.
You bounce up and down his cock, Alys leans towards you to capture your lips into a kiss and you let her, your hands roam all over her body before reaching her breasts, you give a slight squeeze to them, making her breath hitch. She kisses downwards your neck, to your breast before taking your nipple in her mouth.
She suckles on your tit while maintaining eye contact with you, and you can already feel the third orgasm of night beginning to build up. She moans with your breast in her mouth causing pleasant vibrations to shoot up your skin, it seems as if she had reached her peak.
She quickly get off of Aemond's face and he sits up, fully focusing his attention onto you now, pressing a kiss to your lips, you can feel the taste of Alys’ essence on his tongue as he shoves in your mouth, deepening the kiss, he ruts into you at a speedy pace and pulls away from the kiss, to watch your tits bounce up and down as he thrusts upwards.
His mouth descends onto one of them, tongue playing with the bud, flicking it up and down, “I can't wait to see these swell with milk when my seed takes, I bet you'd taste so fucking good.” He growls, biting your nipple making you wince.
And it isn't long before you reach your third orgasm of the night, moaning his name loudly as you finish on his cock, and he once again finishes inside your cunt, filling you up with his seed, painting your walls.
You fall slumped onto his shoulder, exhausted from all the intimate acts you have committed with Aemond and his lover, and practically your lover too now.
He pulls you off him and lays you down next to him gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead, you watch as Alys lays on your stomach, and she turns to press a kiss to your lower abdomen, right where your womb was located and whispers some words which you couldn't make sense of.
She then climbs up further and lays beside you, hugging you close to her chest and Aemond pulls you both into an embrace.
“She'll soon give birth to children that will look like the three of us.” Alys says to Aemond and he hums, “How?” You question, furrowing your eyebrows and she chuckles, “Maybe that being a witch rumour wasn't false after all.” She says and you gasp, “Though, I never really bewitched the prince, I never had to.” She chuckles and leans over to kiss Aemond before falling back to place.
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You thought Alys was just bluffing and joking at that time, until you gave birth to twins months later.
Who ended up having features of all three of you, your son, having one emerald green eye and one purple eye with your hair colour, and your daughter with platinum blonde hair with your eye colour and facial features of alys.
You wondered how she'd done it.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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mt-oe · 6 days
Text
𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩—bandmate mizu
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Hey dears!
I'm so so sorry for not being able to keep up with requests that well. My program is taking a lot of my time and beating the shit out of me (esp. u immunology and serology >:c).
Anyways, here's a sort of prequel for my headcanons because band au Mizu is so yummy.
Enjoy! Mwa mwa:*
warning: not proofread, she/her for mizu, will refer to her as a boy (bc she canonically appears like a man), implied afab reader
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"But you're so good at playing the guitar, and you have the charisma too. You should definitely join our band. Even our manager is amazing. She—"
"For the last time, Ringo. I don't want to join your stupid band."
Mizu and Ringo were already getting ready to go home after finishing their term-end project for their elective, which just so happened to be music. She didn't really think it through when she enlisted and just picked whichever she thought was the easiest. Ringo, however, just picked the same elective as Mizu.
She carefully placed her electric guitar in its case, zipping it up and securing the locks before slinging it over her shoulder. "I have better things to do and joining a band is a waste of time," she added as she walked up to the door.
Ringo followed after her, a smile still on his face despite the rejection. "You never know. This might even be your calling," he chimed as they exited the room, making her groan out of annoyance. They headed into the parking lot where Mizu's bike was parked. "We have an audition in a week if you want," he said, waiting for his friend to put on her helmet.
Once Mizu was finished putting on her helmet, she hopped on and leaned forward, pushing her weight to retract the center stand. "Not interested," she groaned out, slightly muffled behind her helmet. Her foot kickstarted the bike on before she revved the engine up a bit.
"Well if you decide to change your mind, just send me a message." Ringo stepped back a bit to give Mizu some space to move. She grunted in response and drove forward, leaving her friend waving and shout goodbyes at her.
What's so great about joining a stupid band anyway?
It's probably just filled with pretentious kids pretending to be as good as their idols but can't even memorize which strings their hammer ons should be.
Another groan escaped her lips the more she thought about the offer. It was annoying. Yet, a somehow, a small part of her wanted to play even more. The desire ringing at the back of her head like an itch she couldn't scratch off.
What if she did join?
What if it was as much fun as Ringo always said it was?
A sigh escaped her lips at how bothered she was by her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this? She can always play her instruments at home. A crowd wouldn't make a difference, she thought as the wind whizzed past.
Her thoughts continued to race as she drove home. This band thing was stupid. Maybe she shouldn't attend the audition after a—
"Hey goofy boy!" a voice called out.
'What? Me?' she thought, lifting her visor to look around for the source of the voice. Across the stoplight, she saw another woman waving at her enthusiastically. It was almost ridiculous to look at. She raised an eyebrow, looking at her sides and behind her to see if you were talking to someone else before pointing to herself inquisitively.
"Yes you! Across the stoplight! C'mere!" you yelled, signaling her to stop in front of the cafe you were standing in front of, not really caring if other people were looking at you with how silly you were being.
Her blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly suspicious of your intentions. And yet, the way you were smiling and calling her over made her feel...something. Once the light turned green, she drove over to you, pulling up at the lot in front of the cafe.
You walked over to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the side stands on. "What do you want?" she asked in a low voice that clearly indicated that she didn't trust you even one bit.
"That.." You pointed to the guitar case on her back, making her raise an eyebrow cautiously. What did you want with her baby huh? She was so ready to throw hands.
"What model? And how long have you been playing?" you asked, still pointing to her guitar. Mizu looked over her shoulder being sighing. This was a waste of time. "I'm not inclined to tell you that," she replied, getting ready to kick her side stands off.
You snorted at her cold reply before leaning closer until she was face-to-face with you no matter how much she pulled away. The proximity allowing her to take in your features better and you were quite...pretty?
No. Wait.
Let's focus on how much of nuisance you were being.
Before she could even kick off her side stands, you already blocked her foot with yours. "Join our band," you said in a serious tone, showing her a business card before placing it in her jacket, smile still on your face.
Mizu groaned and rolled her eyes. "No. Now get your foot off before I kick it off," she replied. Yet, you kept your foot in the way of her stands, making her eyebrows knit together. "You look really goofy riding that bike of yours with a huge ass guitar case on your back," you said, eyes glancing at her guitar case before staring into her eyes intently. "You have talent, don't you?"
The smile on your face despite how serious and forward you were being was unnerving. "So what? I'm not going to join your band," she said in a low voice. Indeed, she was quite stubborn, but nowhere near your level. This motorist was the diamond in the rough you were looking for. "Goofy boy, join me in the café. It's my treat."
There was no way she's going into that café just for you to give her your sales talk and convince her to join your stupid unknown band. Not in a million years
—was what she thought.
Yet here she was, helmet off and sitting in front of you with a cup of matcha latte, watching you take a bite out of the cake you bought for yourself. After taking a slow sip, she sighed and narrowed her eyes at you. "I thought we were here talk about your band," she scoffed.
You smiled at her yet again, fork still in between your lips. "You're not going to talk right away, right? So let's take our time." A small 'tch' escaped her lips as she leaned back against the chair.
"Fine. I'll talk," she replied, staring at you up and down. Now that she was able to sit down and relax the tiniest bit, she was finally taking her time to look at you. And you weren't an eyesore at all. In fact, you were really fucking cute.
She's still not joining your band though.
A small giggle escaped your lips as you placed the fork down, resting your elbows on the table and intertwining your fingers together. "What model?" you asked, eyes darting to the guitar case beside your table.
Mizu glanced at it as her hands wrapped around the handle of her cup. "A les paul," she replied before taking a sip. Your smile widened before you took a sip from your cup as well, setting it down when she set hers down. "How long have you been playing?"
"Long enough," she replied, glancing at you, rolling her eyes at how you stared at her with curiosity, as if coercing her to tell more. "Fine, fine...before I started high school. I think. Maybe even longer."
You hummed in satisfaction and took another bite out of your cake. "Any other instruments?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow back at you. "A bass. A mustang."
Silence washed over both of you as you continued to eat your cake, making her feel a bit nervous. A small clink was heard as you put your fork down after taking your final bite. "What's your name, goofy boy?"
"Mizu," she replied before taking her drink into her hands. She downed it in one go, placing the cup down and picking her guitar case up. "This is pointless. I'm leaving," she said in a low husky voice, getting ready to stand up.
It was clear to her that she shouldn't have given so much time to you. She wasn't even interested in joining. Maybe if you weren't so cute, she wouldn't have tried to hear you out.
Before she can even stand up, you beat her to it, pushing her back down on the chair gently. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as you leaned forward again.
"I'll make you a star."
Huh?
Her clear surprise and confusion made you giggle. What the hell were you talking about? You pulled away and placed your hands on your hips, giving her a confident smile.
"Talent recognizes talent, Mizu. It may not be now, but I'll make you a star," you beamed.
Mizu blinked before scoffing. "That's ridiculous," she sneered before standing up and putting her helmet on. "For the last time, I'm not fucking joining your stupid audition."
Was what she said.
But here she was, a week later, sitting down inside the studio hallway. Her eyes watched as the auditionees chatted amongst themselves. Those who were done with the audition complaining about how strict the judge was, who she learned was just one person.
Her nerves were sending jitters to the tips of fingers, her throat tightening up slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. Just as she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly at the sight of a familiar pair of feet in front of her.
"I knew you were going to change your mind," her friend's voice chimed.
Looking up, she made eye contact with Ringo who was beaming at her, drumsticks tied to his stubby hands. "But how did you know where our studio is?"
This was the band Ringo was talking about? Oh boy.
She grunted and handed him the business card you snuck into her jacket. "The address is written there," she said with a sigh. He let out a small "oh" before his eyes widened even more. "So you've met her before," he replied cheerfully, handing the business card back.
"Who?" she asked, a serious yet curious look on her face. He looked confused for a moment before he replied, "Our manager. The one who handed you that card?" She wanted to ask more questions, but then a voice suddenly called for the drummer. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go. Bye!"
Upon Ringo leaving, Mizu sat back down and closed her eyes again, resting her elbows on her knees.
Some time later, all the auditionees had finished and yet, it seems that all of them had been rejected. "This is a waste of time. I should have left earlier," she muttered to herself.
Just as she was about to leave the studio, her name was called, leaving her with no choice. Slowly, she entered the room only to be greeted with—
"You came!" your voice beamed.
Her eyes scanned around the room to see you sitting down on a chair, holding some papers, as well as the other band members presumably. "And you're the manager apparently," she said plainly. A chuckle escaping your lips as you nodded. "You can get ready whenever you want to."
Once her guitar was plugged in and ready to go, she looked up at you again, waiting for any further instructions. Despite her mind telling her that there was nothing to be nervous about, her gut was squeezing and churning from anticipation.
Should she do her best? Or should she fuck this up?
Your eyes watched her carefully, observing how she handled her guitar. "Play any song you'd like," you said, leaning forward in your seat as you set the papers down on a chair beside you.
No. She didn't want to be in this stupid band. She's not going to do her best.
Why the fuck would she do that?
This wasn't even worth it.
Nononononononono—
She looked down on her guitar before beginning to strum the familiar intro of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Despite her bobbing her head slightly, it was clear through her body language that she wasn't even trying at all.
The smile on your face slowly disappeared until all that was left was an unreadably neutral expression. Once she was done, she looked at you with a bored expression. "Well?"
You sighed at her, giving her the same bored expression back, making her smirk a bit. "Guess I'm not in, am I?" She unplugged her guitar, getting ready to put it back in the case before your hands stopped her.
"Sit back down. We're not done," you said in a serious tone, facial expression neutral yet your eyes told her that you were daaaaaaaamn annoyed with how little of an effort she put in. The look in your eyes, they way you were gripping the neck of her guitar, did something to her. "I don't owe you a performance," she replied.
You glared at her lightly before snatching her guitar from her hands, causing her to glare at you. She tried to grab her guitar back but you kept evading her as you plugged it back in. Once it was plugged back on, you pushed towards her, making her stumble back a bit from how harsh you did it.
"Now sit down and play. Talent recognizes talent, Mizu," you growled at her. The scene causing everyone in the room to go quiet. It was clear to them that you were pissed. "If not, then sell that guitar. You're wasting it."
After all, the only thing you hated more than the equipment suddenly breaking was wasted potential. And Mizu was wasting a LOT of potential.
Your words struck a nerve in her causing her. With a loud screech, she pulled the chair towards her and sat down. "Fine. If it gets you to shut the fuck up."
She looked at you with one final glare as she leaned back, hands beginning to move against her guitar.
She began playing Hotel California, immediately skipping to the guitar rift at the end of the song.
By the normal person's ear, it wasn't anything special. There were more impressive sounding songs out there. But to you, you knew how difficult it was to get the tone of the song right with how slow it was compared to other rifts. If she made a mistake here, a wrong pluck, a wrong drag, a wrong vibrato, the mistake would be so painfully obvious.
And yet, here Mizu was, playing it perfectly with the same angry look on her face. She was damn mad at you for touching her guitar, for pushing her towards your stupid fucking band. And yet, she couldn't help but want to impress you.
Did she really not want to be in the band?
Why was she trying so fucking hard then?
Like her body was moving on its own.
Like her hands were itching to play more.
As she ended the song, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly, the sound of clapping caused her to perk up and look at you. The sight causing her breath to hitch a blush to dust over her cheeks. That was when she knew the answer to her question.
It was you and your proud little smile.
That cute fucking smile.
All the annoyance and anger you held at her melted off during her little performance. You knew you saw talent. The moment you saw that goofy looking motorist with the awkwardly large hard guitar case at the stoplight, talent already hit you like a damn truck.
Although she knew you were satisfied with her performance, she couldn't help but want to try more. She'll try. She'll damn try for the hottest fucking manager she has ever seen. Her earlier hesitations of whether she wanted to join the band or not disappearing.
Call it a gay agenda but she was going to secure this fucking spot. She'll be best fucking guitarist you have ever heard or seen.
Just as you were about to congratulate her, she raised a hand up to cut you off. "Wait—fuck—that was too easy. I... goddamnit. Wait, I'll try doing something harder," she said in a panicked slur.
Her hands immediately went back to her guitar, eyes narrowing in thought. If an impressive guitar rift was what she needed...
Suddenly, she began playing the guitar rift for Free Bird. Eyes glued to her guitar, palms sweating a bit as she hit every chord, every pluck, every fucking bend.
You couldn't place your finger on what it was, but somehow, it felt like she was playing more passionately. Like she was putting her all into this one song. Was it the way she was bobbing her head? Or the way she moved her guitar during every vibrato? Maybe the way her body moved with the music?
Once the song ended, she closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. You couldn't help but giggle at how flustered she looked, making her blush again.
"Am I in?" she asked, looking at you with hidden desperation in her eyes, making you giggle even more. Her eyebrows furrowed as you continued to laugh, not really answering her question. "Well?"
A gulp went down her throat as you stood up from your chair and picking up the papers you previously held. "Mizu," you giggled out, "You were already in from the moment you tried again."
...
oh
Well that was embarrassing.
You handed her the contract and a pen, humming as she read the content before signing. Looking at her signature, your smile widened. This flustered looking guitarist was exactly what you were looking for and you just hit jackpot.
"You won't regret this, Mizu. I swear." She glanced at you, scanning the big smile you had on your face before looking down at her guitar and unplugging it. "I better not."
Suddenly, you lunged forward at her. Her eyes widened when you suddenly took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Talent recognizes talent," you repeated, leaning closer to her, grip tightening with every word.
"I'll make you a star."
She'll be your star.
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scaranation · 1 year
Note
hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)
Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )
p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!
love your work ♡♡
hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha
dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭
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༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅
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Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)
Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli
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DOTTORE
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“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”
You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.
Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.
“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.
“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.
“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”
“… Don’t try pretending.”
“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.
“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.
“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”
You gritted your teeth.
“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”
“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”
His compliance was almost uncanny.
-
Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.
“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.
“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.
“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.
Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.
“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.
“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”
“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”
“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.
If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?
It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.
Breakfast.
The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.
“Dottore.”
“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.
“I think… we should break up.”
Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.
“Why.”
Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.
“Do you want me to be honest with you?”
“Yes. Is it something I did?”
“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”
Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.
“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”
“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“
“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.
It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.
The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.
“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.
“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
“My love, please.”
The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.
“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.
“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.
It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.
“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.
But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.
He only regretted not being able to hold you more.
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ZHONGLI
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There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.
Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.
Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.
“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.
“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.
But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.
Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.
“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.
“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.
“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.
“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.
“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”
A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.
Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.
“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.
“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”
Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.
“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.
“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”
“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”
Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.
“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”
“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”
“Do you really want to leave that badly?”
Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“… Yes.”
“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”
The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.
“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.
Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.
However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.
And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.
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Wayne Family Garden ~Batmom Imagine~
Summary: Your plan on growing a garden. However, you don’t have a green thumb. Luckily, you know someone who does.
Author’s Note: I'm obessed with the Wayne Family Adventures on WebToons. Like you don't know how obsessed I am with them.
BatFamily Masterlist
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: fluff, Poison Ivy and Harley know the Batfam's identies (its canon)
Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!
Do not repost this anywhere!
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"What do you think Alfred?"
"I think having a lemon tree could really benefit the garden and our groceries," Alfred tells you.
"Maybe we can have an apple tree too?" You said.
"Sounds delightful. And Master Bruce agreed to your garden?"
"Yup. Said we can have it on the side in the backyard. And we can grow whatever we want," you smiled.
"We should start off small then," Alfred said.
"Right. So then a lemon tree, an apple tree, and carrots?" You asked.
"Sounds good to me," Alfred smiled.
You had been growing more bored around your home now that most of your kids were adults and had moved out of the mansion. So after seeing a good amount of gardening TikToks, you wanted to start your own little garden. But there was one slight problem, you didn't know how to garden.
So there was one person you could think of who could help you start off. You didn't want to bother Alfred more than what he has to deal with so you used your husband's technology to find a certain someone.
The apartment complex looked a little run down but yet again, you knew this was where they would be laying low. You knocked on the front door, only to see Harley Quinn opening it up.
"Mrs. Wayne? Whatcha doin here?" Harley asked you.
"Hiya, Harley. I'm looking for Ivy. Is she around?" You asked.
"Yeah. What's going on?" Harley asked.
"Harley. Who is it?" You heard Ivy ask.
"It's Y/n Wayne! Batman's wife!" Harley said excitedly.
"Hi, Ivy. I came here to ask for a favor," you tell her.
"Uh sure. What's up?" Ivy asked.
"I am currently planting a garden at my home but the problem is, I don't know how to garden. I was wondering if you can help me out," you asked her.
"Don't you have a butler who also knows how to garden?" Ivy asked.
"Yes but I don't want to bother him more than my family already has. And besides, I need more females around the house," you mentioned.
"What are you trying to grow?" Harley asked.
"I would like to start off with a lemon tree, an orange tree, and an apple tree. But I know those take a couple years to grow but I would like to begin growing carrots, tomatoes, and green beans as well," you tell her.
"Those are good to start off with," Ivy mentioned.
"Thanks. So will you come by my house with me and help me get started? I have the tools and everything to start off," you asked her.
"Yeah. My schedule is clear for today," Ivy shrugged.
"Thank you! Harley! You can come over too," you invited.
"Oh sweet!"
Whenever it was a light night, meaning that there was barely crime for once in Gotham, the whole family would get together for dinner. However, they were surprised to see two new comers joining you all in dinner.
"I expect you all to behave yourselves for the night. Ivy and Harley are my guests as they helped me with my garden today," you tell your family.
"Yes mom."
"And no hero or villain talk in the table. I would like a dinner where we can just eat like normal people for once," you say as you prepped the table.
During dinner, everyone ate peacefully but kept a close eye on Harley and Ivy. It was mainly you talking about the garden and your plans for it.
"What are you planning on growing in the garden ummi?" Damien asked you.
"I would like a lemon, orange, and an apple tree but I know those take a while to grow. But I'm also planning on growing some carrots, green beans, and tomatoes to start off," you say excitedly.
"Just make sure to follow the instructions I gave you," Ivy said.
"Of course. And I'll call you in case anything happens," you smiled at her.
The next few weeks, you were proud of your work. The trees were starting to form slowly but surely. You kept notes to check your progress as well as making sure everything was going smoothly. So it wasn't a surprise for the batfamily to see Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy come to their house every week to help check on your garden.
"They're growing good," Ivy tells you,
"Thank you!"
"If you want, I can help you speed up the process for the trees."
"I know I should wait but I do want to try baking an apple pie and make my own orange juice."
"As long as you keep maintaining it you should be fine."
"Mmm. Okay. Let's do it!"
Cassandra and Stephanie quickly rushed over to Harley's and Ivy's place with the bag from their mom. It had been a couple weeks since Ivy and Harley last visited you and your garden. Cassandra knocked on the door, waiting for one of them to answer.
"What do you kids want?" Ivy asked as she opened the door.
"wanted us to drop this off to you," Stephanie said as she handed her the bag. Ivy looked into it before smiling. A fresh apple pie along with a pitcher of orange juice and lemonade were placed in the bag.
"Tell her we said thank you."
"We will!"
"Let her know that if she wants to start something new, have her call me," Ivy tells the girls.
"We will!"
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inkdrinkerworld · 2 months
Note
hi! maybe logan getting worried/protective over u after u get injured during a mission? 🥺🩷
Canon level (based on the comic books mostly) wounds and violence (it’s nothing too gory besides the wound description)
“Move out of my fucking way Scott,” you hear him before you see him which isn’t really a good sign.
You’d gone on a mission the same time he was out on one too, and though it had just been a simple recon mission, things got heated quick.
Zeitgeist was a bitch like usual, and you weren’t as fast as you might’ve been had there not been a falling child to save.
So now, your entire right side is rippled under the acid of his spit and you can’t deny the agony you’re in.
“She’s fine,” Scott says but you know your boyfriend.
He pushes past him and is at your side almost instantly. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to him being so close but when they settle on his face, the clear panic and worry is clear to see.
“I’m fine, Lo.” You say, teeth gritted through each word as Charles asses the wound.
You’re no longer in your suit, just in a pair of pants and a sports bra, your hair is drenched and Logan can only guess they just hosed you down to get rid of the majority of the acid.
It still burns like a bitch and you can’t hide that from the man who knows you so well.
“Bullshit,” he grumbles, hands brushing back the hair from your face. “Can’t you all do something instead of just fucking staring at it?”
The question is packed with worry that none of them are accustomed to seeing on Logan, but you swear you see Ororo smirk.
She’d been the only one to notice his soft underbelly- well beside you.
“We’re waiting for Hank to bring the antidote Logan,” you say gently, stroking his tense forearm. “I’m fine baby.”
It’s the ‘baby’ that softens him, that gets him to take a deep breath and press his forehead into yours.
“Fucking scared me,” he murmurs and the others all find themselves busy- besides Scott, he wants something to tease the man about as per the rules of their friendship. “Don’t do that shit again.” His hands are on your neck, thumbs under your chin so you can’t look away.
“I didn’t really have a choice, I had to save the kid.” He nods, pressing his lips to your temple. Hank saves him from blowing up again when you wince and the green acid bubbles a little more.
“Fucking finally, what took you so long?” He grunts, Hank only shaking his head as he pours the blue liquid over your wound.
“Fuck,” you cry out, hand itching to press against your side or slap Hank’s hands away but Logan stops you.
“Fucking say something next time, yeah big guy?” He growls but then you hiss again and he’s all focused on you again.
“You’re good, you’re okay bub.” It’s whispered straight into your hairline and if you were a little more cognizant you’d notice that Logan can’t stop glaring at the wound.
“We caught it in time, the antidote won’t reverse the burn completely, but it will be soothing it and fixing the majority of it.” Hank pulls on gloves, the snap of it on his wrist filling the room. “There’s a salve you need to put on it for the healing process.”
“Thanks Hank,” you whisper, much too tired for much else. “Can I go now?” Logan notices then how utterly exhausted you look and sets aside his anger and worry for a moment to dote on you.
“Yes, but Logan monitor the wound and how it heals over the next few weeks. The skin should be back to normal when the salve is done.” The professor says and Logan nods dutifully before picking you up off the med and taking the salve from Hank.
“C’mon, pretty girl.” He takes you back to your room and is smearing the salve on your side. “You’re not doing that shit again, I swear to whatever there is.”
You give him a small smile, “Getting hurt is part of it Logan, I can’t avoid that completely.”
He frowns and then presses a kiss right above your wounded side. “You don’t get how scary it is to hear, ‘she’s in the infirmary, an acid wound’, I nearly ripped Bobby in half.”
You stretch a hand to bury in his hair. “I know baby, but this was just a one time thing. Zeitgeist isn’t exactly unscathed either.”
Logan smiles, his lips pressing into your unblemished skin again. “Fire burns Logan, what can I say.”
“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” You giggle a little, more so when he holds your cheeks and stamps a kiss to your lips. “Get some shut eye, m’gonna get one of the kids to make you soup.”
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discordantwritings · 1 month
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Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)
Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie
WC: 8.4k
Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.
Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy
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No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.
Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.
But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.
Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.
When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-
You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.
“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”
It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”
“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”
“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.
“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.
“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”
As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”
Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“
He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”
There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”
That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”
It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.
“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”
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You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.
You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.
It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).
Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.
“C’mon in.”
You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.
“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.
“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”
You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”
“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.
“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.
“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.
“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.
“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.
“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.
“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.
“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.
“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”
“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.
“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.
“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.
“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”
You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”
“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.
When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.
“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.
“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.
“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.
“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”
“I guess… there was this one time-“
You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.
“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.
“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”
“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”
You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.
“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.
You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.
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The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.
Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.
It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.
But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.
You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.
Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.
Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.
It’s the damn nicknames.
Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.
My story weaver.
My star.
Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.
But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.
“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”
“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.
“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.
“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.
“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.
You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”
“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.
“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.
“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.
“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.
“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”
“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.
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“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.
You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.
“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.
“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.
“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.
“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.
“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.
“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.
“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.
“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.
“But-“
“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.
“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.
It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.
Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.
“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.
“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.
“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.
“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.
“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.
Darling.
That was a new one.
“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.
He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”
“Hm?”
“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.
“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.
“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.
“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.
“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.
“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.
You leave.
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Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.
You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-
You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.
Until, of course, your captain finds you.
“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.
“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.
Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”
“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.
“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.
“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.
“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.
“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”
“Well-“
As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.
“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.
“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.
“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.
He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.
“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.
“Of course.” You answer automatically.
“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.
“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”
You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.
You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.
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You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.
You weren’t his anymore.
Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.
It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.
Stupid how you realize these things too late.
Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.
You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.
It’ll pass.
Someday.
But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-
You sounded like a child didn’t you.
You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.
“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.
“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.
“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.
“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”
“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”
A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”
“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).
“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.
“Great.”
“Good.”
There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.
“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.
“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.
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Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.
You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.
It didn’t work.
Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.
You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.
“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.
“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.
“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”
There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.
“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.
“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.
You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.
If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.
But you didn’t.
You know when you’re not wanted.
Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.
It’s easier that way.
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A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.
You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.
You were getting better.
You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.
The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.
It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.
It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.
The sound of wood breaking.
You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.
You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.
Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.
The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.
You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.
Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.
You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.
Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.
“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.
“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.
“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.
Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.
“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”
Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.
If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.
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You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.
“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.
Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.
“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.
He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.
The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“
“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”
Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”
“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.
“You-“
“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”
He gets to the door before your words stop him.
“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.
“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.
“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.
“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.
“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.
“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”
“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.
“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”
The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”
“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”
You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.
You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.
You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.
“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”
Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.
“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.
“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.
He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”
You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.
“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.
“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.
He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.
“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.
“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.
His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.
“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.
“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”
“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”
His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”
You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“
“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.
“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.
All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.
“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.
“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.
“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.
You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.
“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.
He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.
He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.
You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.
“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.
“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.
“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.
“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.
You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.
“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.
“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”
“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.
“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“
Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.
“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.
“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.
You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.
“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”
“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.
“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.
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celestewritesstuff · 2 years
Text
Alhaitham - Desires: Part Two
in which you, having previously walked in on Haitham jerking off, have to suffer the consequences.
part one
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(cw: desk sex, usage of darling, sweet, dear, bastard (once. it felt right), brief mutual masturbation, alhaitham is a bit more ooc but he’s not much to work with canon, so)
“Did… did you call for me, Haitham Sir?” You spoke as you opened the door, “Are you alright?” You gasped at the scene in front of you, and you watched as his pupils darkened. He motioned for you to walk over.
“I sure fuckin’ will be the second you get over here,” He growled.
Your eyes widened at the full display before you. His cum was splattered all over his papers and his cock, in all it’s glory, sat amongst his open zipper. His shirt was disheveled and sat farther up his torso, showing you his lower abs and v-line. Your mouth watered.
“Do… do you need help, sir…?” You quietly asked as you stepped closer. He had both of his hands on the desk, leaning forward. He chuckled and raised his head. By the time you walked over to him, he took your jaw in one hand and the back of your head in the other.
“That seems to be the case, doesn’t it? Do you want to help me, sweet (Y/N)?”
His lips were so close to yours. His icy demeanor still up, but in a much more foreboding presence. You’d be lying if you said you’d never dreamed of a moment like this; him asking you if you would want to have sex him.
“Fuck it, yes, please Haitham,” You begged at barely a whisper. His smirk grew before he pulled you closer to him and finally kissed you.
The air crackled with the lust between you two. His former release further spurred him to get going with the action. He forcefully open your mouth to deepen the kiss and you whined in response, opening your mouth to taste his tongue.
He broke the kiss to chuckle at you. “Eager, aren’t we? You’ll get what you want soon,” With that, the hand that was holding your jaw traveled down your skirt and harshly greeted your pussy from your wet panties. He began to run circles on them before he pulled them down and wandered your folds. You moaned into the kiss at his rough movements, and you went to jerk him off slowly. When you reached his cock he gripped your hair and pushed you closer to him. He rubbed you faster until you broke the kiss.
“P-please, Haitham, I can’t take it anymore,” You gazed into his eyes, hazy with lust. “Just fuck me already,”
He smirked once again. “As you wish, darling. Get on the desk. I wanna see your ass, full display. Take off your clothes.”
His demanding tone sent shivers down your spine as you walked over to the desk and undressed. You could feel his eyes on you and you almost jumped when you felt him push up against you as you were pushing down your skirt. He inhaled at your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair. His arms wrapped around you and pulled your skirt up to your waist.
“This stays on.” He commanded, pushing you down onto the desk until you felt his cum from before on your breasts and stomach. You hiked your lower half onto the table for better access. Glancing back at him, you saw he had your pastel green panties in his hand and was smelling them. He looked at you and chuckled again.
“Y’know, these were the exact thing that had me going crazy for you earlier. How about we use them to make you quiet right now? I’m sure you can do that, yeah?” With a nod from you, he stuffed them into your mouth as a silencer. “Atta girl,” he growled, and he rubbed his tip up and down your slit and you groaned impatiently.
“Ah, ah, ah, what did I say about being quiet? Am I gonna have to punish you?” Your doe eyes looked back at him again, and you shook your head.
“Well, I sure hope you remain obedient for me.”
He slipped inside you, and it took all your willpower to not moan loudly at the feeling you’d been chasing for weeks. This was everything you’ve ever wanted; his perfect cock inside of you, touching all the right parts and making you shiver. He slowly pulled out and back in again, taking off his shirt in the process.
His thrusts became faster until his steady pace had slapping sounds bouncing off the walls. You prayed nobody would hear, and knock only to see you in this compromising, humiliating position. Haitham grabbed your arms and pulled you up, your elbows touching and upper half suspended above his desk. Your tits and skirt bounced with every thrust and you threw your head back in pleasure. You were close and your suppressed moans were starting to slip. He switched to pounding into you with one hand holding your arms as he grabbed your panties from your mouth.
“Let’s make this a bit harder, shall we? Make sure nobody knows what we’re doing in here, dear,”
He threw the garments across the room and held your arms with two hands again. His thrust sped up again, had you seeing stars, and your moans got louder. His harsh slaps against your hips bounced off the walls louder and you’d be surprised if nobody heard you in the library. You felt your climax nearing and by the way Haitham was acting, he was close too.
“H-ah, Haitham, I’m close, I-I’m gonna… I’m gonna-!” Your words were cut off as you released, spasming and clenching which pulled a beautiful moan from the man drilling into you.
“Aaaaatta girl, yeah, just like that,” Haitham groaned from behind you. He pushed into you a few more times before shooting his cum deep inside you, and finally stilling. You were gasping, trying to catch your breath, as he gently set you down after settling a small peck on your forehead.
“God, that was amazing…” You murmured after a moment, shakily pushing yourself up from the desk and standing before him. He gently took your face and kissed you, a soft, sweet, serene kiss that would make any lover blush. He released you, and said, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, (Y/N).”
You both grabbed your clothes and settled them back on, and only then did you really get a view of his beautiful chest. You both checked each other’s appearances, then you left after exchanging a time to meet up once again.
It was only after you had returned to the books you were sorting that you realized he still had your panties.
that bastard.
(end of fic)
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misguidedasgardian · 8 months
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Storm's End (5)
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HOTD MASTERLIST
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Strong!Reader
Summary: your mother sends you to Storm’s End to rally Lord Borros Baratheon for your side, but your uncle arrived there before you
Warnings: Cursing, use of the word bastard, angst, heavy, canon level incest, thoughts about dying, fear of commiting s*icide, mentions of bedding, and more, dark fic, Aemond is unhinged, rape, non-con, minors engaging in sexual activities, face fucking, blood, violence, and other very dark things. Aemond is unhinged and Reader is broken
+18 MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 3.4 k
Notes: I think… Lucemond shippers are going to get a treat? jeje didn’t mean to, it just happened, never wrote anything like this 
I really wanted to end this in this chapter, but it grew monstrous, and yes, I will make two endings, they will be published together...
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“You know? I had dreamed about this many times”, he said, his voice clear despite the stormy winds, “when I finally have you within reach, to slice up your face like you did me, all those years ago”
The winds blow his hair, his cape, and made him shiver, but he grabbed onto the pommel of the sword Daemon made him carry whenever he went out
“You are right”, he said, “Uncle, your trouble is with me, you anger, your hate, I owe you a debt”, he said shakily, the only thing on his mind was his sweet sister’s face. Aemond only smiled, a few feet away from him, “Let her go…”
Aemond chuckled darkly
“Well said bastard”
“Let my sister go, take me prisoner instead”, he said shakily, “its me you want”, he whined, he was shaking like a leaf, so much Aemond thought, amused, that he was going to soil his pants
But it was endearing
“I may have underestimate you nephew”, he said simply 
“I think you’d do the same thing…”
“Mmm”, now he was amused
“Take my eye, do what you have to do, slice my face, take both, take me whole to the Red Keep but… release my sister”, he said, with those big green eyes
“Why would I? she is certainly a more entertaining guest than you”, he muttered with sick smile
They had met in a small, lonely island on Blackwater bay, in a middle point between Dragonstone and King’s Landing 
“Like I said, it’s me who took your eye years ago, it’s because of me you are lacking an eye, it's because of me my mother asked you to be tortured, and is because of me your mother almost killed mine, I made everything worse, and is because of me you're hurting my sister…”
Aemond chuckled
“That’s not why I took her”, he whispered, Luke couldn’t hear him
“I am sorry Uncle, for what happened that night, and I know is easy to say it now, but I was sorry back then, and I am right now”
“That means little to me”, he said, fixing his composure, “what was your plan exactly?”, he asked, “you are in no position to make any demands, I could kill you, easily, what then?”
Lucerys stopped shaking, he straightened his posture, he let go of his sword
“I just wanted you to know uncle”
“That you are sorry?”, he mocked 
“Yes”
“I don’t give a shit about your apologies nephew, you are a bastard who tried to steal my brother’s birthright”
“I will not fight about this with you uncle”, he said, “release my sister and take me instead”
“Well, like I said, I’ve dreamt about this many times, and now that we are here, I don’t see why I should be bothered”, he said dismissively
If he killed Luke, you would just… die, even if you were still breathing, you would be dead in life
And that is not what he wanted
The winds blew even more stronger than before, whistling in the wind, a storm was coming
“Go home Lucerys”
“But… my sister”, he said, taking a step towards him
“I fuck your sister, every chance I get”, he said with a smirk, Luke began shaking again, “I have her locked up in your mother’s old chambers”, he moved uncomfortably
“Why her?”, he asked, “she had never done anything to you”
“She payed up your debt to me, you should be thankful”, he said simply, “you should spend every waking moment thanking her”
“I didn’t want her to”, he said, “I want to pay my debt, I want you to leave her alone!”, he demanded
“Too late for that, she is probably with my child in her belly”, Lucerys frowned
“It had only been a couple of weeks!”, he whined
“That is how it works”, he mocked
“Please!”, he was growing desperate, he was supposed to be relieved but he wasn’t.
He had made his peace, he had come here to die for his sister, only to bring her back to Dragonstone
He should have told Aemond to bring her along, to make sure she returns home 
“I have her”
“Take my eye!”, he said, grabbing a small dagger from his belt, he tried to take it himself, but his arm was shaking terribly, something primal, in the bottom of his being wouldn’t let him hurt himself
Aemond trotted towards him, and Lucerys didn't move 
Aemond grabbed his hand, that had the dagger, and with the other grabbed the back of his head, to prevent him from moving 
“I don’t want your eye”, he said. Lucerys felt chills when he saw his sapphire stone in its place, “because even with only one, I can see, I have your heart”, he said with a manic smile 
“Let her go”, he begged, “please”
“Being born second son is hard, you don’t know about this because you are in to inherit Driftmark”, he manipulated his nephews hand until the tip of the dagger was scratching his upper cheek, right under his eye, “I get nothing”, he growled, Lucerys whimpered, “But she… is the only thing I’ve ever wanted, that I’ve desired… so after all the shit that I have been through, I decided to take her”
“She doesn’t deserve it”, he said, “I do…”, he said, he looked into his uncle’s eye and calmed himself, he steadied his breaths and stopped shaking, preparation for the pain his uncle felt all those years ago, “do it, for her”, he said
It was true
Aemond had wished upon this day for many years
And now that it was here
He didn't know what to do
It didn't taste as good as he thought it would 
it was almost too easy
Lucerys was right there in his grasp 
“Like I said..”, he released him, pushing him away, Luke fell pitifully on the sand, “i don’t want your eye bastard, because I have your heart in the Red Keep”
Aemond didn't think the little bastard loved his sister as Targaryens do, as a man loves a woman, he knew he loved her like a real sister, and that made it better
Luke tried to stand up, but he placed his boot on his chest, keeping him pinned to the beach
“Go home and tell your mother I fuck your sister every night, I will keep her at court, pregnant with my bastards for everyone to see”, he said, “but she is well fed, and… healthy”, he relented, “not happy, but alive and well”
He looked at the dagger in his hand and dropped it by his feet
“Please, let her go”, he begged one more time, “she wants to go home…”
“I will see you on the battlefield, there I will not be so forgiving”, Aemond turned back and walked hastily towards Vaghar, who was watching it all with tired eyes
Lucerys watched as Aemond took to the skies without even giving him a scare, a second glance 
. . .
Aemond found you sitting on the bed hugging your legs to your chest, crying softly. 
In a rage, to hurt you, he had showed you the letter Lucerys had send, you had grabbed him, begged him, cried to him not to go, that his brother was sorry, that you were never going to beg him to be released again, that you were going to stay here willingly, that you were going to change your attitude, bend the knee to Aegon, you actually dropped to your knees and grabbed onto his legs 
He released himself from you and left the chambers with a sick smile on his face
You trashed your room, you cried and wailed until soldiers came inside and restrained you
A maester gave you milk of the poppy to calm you down, but nothing could ease your mind
Aemond was going to kill your brother
And there was nothing you could do about it
When he opened the door his eye landed precisely on you, and then he looked at the rest of the room, mainly destroyed, maids had taken the worst part of it, but still it was visibly depleted of your former belongings. 
You looked at him, frightened, crying, your face red.
“Did you murdered my baby brother?”, you asked, he shook his head
“No”, you took a long sigh of relief, “He went home”
“Why?”, you asked him, he didn’t even know how to answer that
“Why didn’t I kill my own flesh and blood?”, he asked, bitterly, “He begged me to take out his eye”, a single tear fell down your cheek
“Did you?”, you asked
“No”, he said simply, “he offered it to me in exchange of your release”
“And why didn't you?”, he took out his coat, and left it over the chair in front of the fire, he then lost his vest, and he continued to release himself from his clothes, to finally turn to you
You knew what he wanted, and you were exhausted, for being all day and good part of the night
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, you know why”, he said, climbing onto the bed, completely naked, you believed it was the first time you saw him bare like this 
He took the sheets that shielded you, and he took out your nightdress, you let him
You’ve come to learn that if you fight it, it was worse
And you didn't want to hurt anymore
You laid back as you spread your legs for him, and closed your eyes, preparing yourself for the pain. But what you felt was warm hands caressing your thighs, one of them traveling up your body, caressing you softly
You didn't know why, but this frightened you more than his roughness
You felt like he was tricking you into thinking he was going to be nice, only to hurt you again
You whimpered in fear
“Shhh, relax”, he whispered, “is alright, relax”, he continued gently, caressing your skin, the skin he once grabbed roughly.
One of his fingers teased your entrance, he teased and teased until eventually you relaxed, his finger now coated with juices, only then he put another finger to work, easing you open.
Only when he felt squelching noises, he dimmed you ready, he caressed your thighs, coaxing them open for him 
He entered slowly, gently, foreign, you had never felt this tenderness, from him…. he held you against him, one hand on your side, the other traveled to your face
“Look at me”, he demanded, and you obeyed, looking up at him. His thumb caressed the apple of your cheek as he fucked you slowly
You couldn’t say you enjoyed it, because he was always so rough, you were still sore, but at least, it didn't hurt
You didn't know which one was worse 
He cummed inside you, like always, and then he didn't discard you, he laid there by your side, he grabbed you and accommodated you by his side. You fell asleep quickly, that night, for the first time since he had you, you didn't have any nightmares 
. . .
Lucerys had arrived back home to Dragonstone with his tears dried upon his cheeks, he had no more to cry
He was weak and small, but he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice and not even that had been enough
He was intercepted by Daemon, that was furious 
“Where have you been?”, he barked, grabbing him by the arm, “we had been worried sick”
“I tried to get her back”, he said silently
“What?”, he growled
“I met with Aemond, to offer myself for her”
“You did what? Are you mad? this was reckless, what if he had killed you? Can you imagine what your mother would have suffered?”, he said, shaking him, like that way he could restore him to sanity
“He didn’t take the chance to blind me”, he said, “I told him I was giving myself away, in exchange for her, and he wouldn’t go for it”
“We have Otto”, he said with a pleased smile
“What?”, asked lucerys
“A ship from Corly’s fleet caught him, he was trying to cross the Narrow Sea to gain support from those triarchy cunts”, he said, “we have him”
“We can trade him”
“Damn right we can”, he said with a wide smile, “we have a gathering”. he said, “a summit, with the great houses, and those traitorous cunts, there, we will discuss your sister’s release for him”, it was an improvement that he was still alive, thought Luke 
. . .
“Let’s give them the little bastard and be done with it”, said Aegon
“No”, sentenced Aemond, “not her”
“Aemond, they have your grandfather”
“Let them keep him”
“Aemond!”, shrieked Alicent, “he is your grandfather”
“He is a cunt that whore you out to Viserys, manipulated you for years, made you believe Rhaenyra would kill us, only to place this whoremonger, drunk cunt on the throne”, he said, Alicent was so enraged she didn’t know what to say, “let them kill him”
Aegon laughed, approving of his brother’s words, Alicent just covered her mouth
“How could you say something like that? everything we have done has been to keep you all safe”
“We are in the most dangerous position”, he said simply, “he will throw us all into war, for his ambition, we could all die for it”, he said, “yes we could kill them also, but it is naive to think all of us will survive”, he said, “Rhaenyra has the numbers”
“We have dragons”
“They do too”, he said, “and an the most powerful armada of the seven Kingdoms”
“Aemond, you did it”, she said softly, “you… had her, dishonored her… showed to everyone what she is…it is done”
“I’ll decide when it's done”, he growled, Aegon slapped the table, wanting the attention
“I am the King!”, he said, “i’ll decide when it's done”
“She is with child”, Aemond said, Alicent paled
“Aemond”
“She is with my child in her belly”
“It's been less than a moon”, she said then, “you can’t be sure”
“I’m sure”
“I don’t care”, said Aegon, “she goes”, he said. Aemond raised from his seat enraged, “careful brother, or we might start thinking you care about her”, Aemond walked away from the room, enraged 
He found you reading, cuddling by the fire in the hearth of the room 
As you always did you trembled when you saw him, and he give you a satisfying smirk
“Your treacherous family has my grandfather”, he thought he was going to see relief in your eyes, but he only saw fear
“I’m sorry”
“You are going to be”, he said, taking off his vest and undoing his breeches, “get on your knees”
You stood up from your place, walked towards him and did as he said, kneeling in front of him, who had sat on the bed. 
Aemond released his hard cock
“Suck”, he was impatient, and angry, he didn't wait for you to make up your mind, he grabbed you by the back of the head, grabbing into your hair roughly, you whined, but he didn't care you opened your mouth and he stuck his cock in it, until you were choking and crying 
“Do you hate me yet?”, he teased, you shook your head, “auw, aren’t you sweet?”, he pushed until your nose touched the hairs on his groin, you whined, not being able to breathe. He grunted above you, you tried to look at him, and his eye were closed in pure pleasure. Droll fell from the corners of your lips, making your chin burn
It didn’t last long, still grabbing you by your hairs he pulled you up only to throw you to be the bed
“Lay back, spread your legs”, he commanded, and just like the night before, you obeyed him without fighting
He took his time to admire you, specially the brand he had drawn on your thigh, the A could be seen, clear as day, he caressed it with his thumb
“We have to take advantage, in a moon’s time we have a summit with the high lords, they are going to try and trade you for my grandfather”, he muttered 
He kneeled on the bed and he grabbed your hips, raising them and drawing you to him, and then he thrusted into you, making you whimper
“No need to prepare you this time”, he mocked, “I knew you were a wanton little whore”, a single tear fell from your eyes as he started pounding roughly into you
It was foreign, for him to cuddle you like he had been doing for the past nights
You didn’t even know how long it had been since he had you here, trapped in these chambers
“Do you hate me now?”, he insisted, you didn’t know why is was so important, the answer was the same
“I don’t hate you uncle”
“What do I need to do to you for you to hate me?”, he asked quietly
“Why would you want my hate?”, you asked, tired
Yes, why?
Perhaps to make himself feel better, perhaps if you all hated each other this would be much easier. Perhaps he was angry, because he had spend all these years hating the lot of you, and you didn't hate him back, he had barely been in your mind those years you were in Dragonstone 
He was desperate to coax some feeling into you
You had loved him, you had said so yourself
Had
You clearly didn’t love him now, so the next best thing he could do, was make you hate him
Because he had loved you to
Since he was a child and you a little girl, he loved you innocently, with a still pure heart. 
But then his mother and grandfather poisoned him, poisoned his mind, his heart, putting into his head that you were just a little bastards who was out for their inheritance, their birthrights, that you were a little whore even if you were a young girl, just like your mother, that you were there to manipulate, to whore yourself out to get what you wanted
So his sweet, innocent, healthy childish crush became a dark obsession, because he shouldn’t want you, he should hate you, and yet… He started desiring you with his whole being… It was wrong, he was a prince, a prince taught by the teaching of the New Gods, and you were a bastards born of filthy and impure desire
At that point you were already in Dragonstone, but Aemond never forgot about you
By the time he saw you again during Driftmark, he couldn’t hide it no longer, despite what he knew his mother was going to answer, because she was intended on making peace with Rhaenyra
But that cunt took you away from him, scared
How could you refuse him? him? a prince of the realm, a Targaryen Prince, not a bastard like his children
When he came to his senses, he felt a warm liquid on his chest, you were crying, and he was grabbing so hard into you he was bruising you
“I just want to know why you hate me and my brothers so much”, you whined
Deep down he knew it was wrong, he knew that you were not at fault…
But you flaunted it
You and your little bastard brothers flaunted your inheritance, your dragons, always laughing, forgetting practice, not taking it serious enough
And then that little bastard took his eye
After he rightfully claimed Vhagar
He took his eye and his own father wouldn't defend him against them.
He hated you because you were happy, and you had the love of the man who was supossed to love him the most
And he was wretched 
And yet he couldn’t answer, he didn't find it in himself to look until he found a clear answer
So he didn’t
You hugged him, hugged his torso, your face on his chest
“I don’t want you to hate us”, you whined
Perhaps they were just children, manipulated by their parents, their frustrations, anger and hate rubbed into them, passed onto them like a twisted disease 
“Why?”, he asked
“Because I’m scared of that hate”, you answered, “all that hate is going to get us all killed”, you whispered, “I don’t hate you uncle”, you said then
“Even though I killed your dragon?”
“I don’t hate you” 
“Even though I raped you bloody?”, he asked in an even tone, you shook your head, “and I called you a whore, and a bastard?”
“I don’t”
This cycle of hate had to end with you.
“You don’t want me dead?”, he asked
“No”, you whispered, “I just wish we could all be small again, and play together like we used to, we could have been good friends”, you said childishly
You had been so protected and guarded your entire life that you still held onto that childishness 
He chuckled
He had killed your dragon, drowned you, raped you, choked you, humiliated you, defiled you, and the only thing you wanted was for him not to hate you, to go back in time and start over, so you would all be friends
Oh you were so innocent 
So pure
“I don’t hate you Zaldrïtsos”, he said finally
He just enjoyed hurting you
He just enjoyed possessing you, it was much better, to take you by force... But he wanted you, you didn't want him back, but he had the power to take you by his own. It was exhilarating
But he didn't hate you
He wanted you so much that it hurt him
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411 notes · View notes
topguncortez · 9 months
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All My Heart & All My Being | Jake x Shy!Wifey
opposites attract masterlist | main masterlist
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synopsis: Jake & Y/N are given devastating news on what was supposed to be a routine midwife visit. Jake navigates how to tell his kids about the circle of life.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: miscarriage, tears, fear of doctors, cursing, talks of death, canon character death, mentions of depression, mentions of stillbirths
note: miscarriages happen in 1 out of 4 pregnancies. Most miscarriages are spontaneous, meaning that you did nothing to cause it. miscarriages are never your fault, and it doesn't make you any less of a parent. Angel baby parents are still parents.
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Jake couldn’t hide his excitement. It was Y/N’s second ultrasound since she had discovered she was pregnant. It was the appointment where they were finally going to hear their baby’s heartbeat. Even though they had been here twice before, the same butterflies and nervous feelings still arose in their bellies. Jake was trying his best to not crush Y/N’s hand with his strong grip as they waited for the doctor to come in. 
Jake was halfway out of the chair he was sitting in, at eye level with Y/N’s bare belly. His eyes were wide as he was retelling the story of his last dogfight with Rooster and Coyote. Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face as she ran her hand through his soft blonde hair. 
“And then, I broke right, turning right into the sun with Rooster still hot on my tail, but the ol’ man still hasn’t learned any new tricks,” Jake laughed, “He lost me in the sun, and I was able to turn quickly and get behind him to get missile lock on him.” 
“Going to turn this one into an aviator before they’re even born,” Y/N giggled. Jake looked up at her with pure admiration and love in his green eyes. 
“They’ve got a handful of uncles and aunts who will turn them into an aviator if I don’t,” Jake said as there was a soft knock on the door. Y/N sat up on her elbows and told whoever it was to come in, but Jake’s eyebrows furrowed at the young nurse who walked through the door, “Where’s Doctor Carpenter?” 
The nurse smiled at him as she walked to the ultrasound machine, “She’s with another mother right now, but she’ll be here soon.” Y/N nodded and laid back down on the exam table, “My name is Margaret, and I’ll be doing the initial look, taking a few pictures and then Doctor Carpenter will be in.” 
“Okay,” Y/N nodded, feeling the grip of nerves in her throat. Jake could feel the anxiety rolling off his wife in waves and squeezed his wife’s hand. Y/N looked over at him, as Jake raised their conjoined hands to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. 
“How have you been feeling, Mrs. Seresin?” Margaret asked. 
“Oh please, call me Y/N,” Y/N said softly, “I’ve been feeling more tired than usual with this one. It’s our third baby,” Jake gave her hand a squeeze, “But lately, my back has been hurting, I’ve had these weird dizzy spells, just overall felt like crap.” 
Margaret nodded as she put some of the cool gel on Y/N’s belly. Y/N let out a shaky breath as Margaret pressed the transducer to Y/N’s lower belly. She always hated this part of the exam, feeling like her bladder was going to explode from the pressure. 
Jake sucked in a breath as he watched Y/N stare up at the ceiling. She was uncomfortable and Jake hated that. “Did you hear about Dragon’s wedding present for Rooster?” Y/N looked at her husband and shook her head, “Well apparently, it was a fancy little picture book. Rooster was actually speechless, and you know that man is nev-” 
“How far along are you?” Margaret asked, interrupting Jake. He looked up at her, noticing the pinched look on her face. 
“12 weeks,” Y/N nodded, “But isn’t that on my chart?” 
Margaret nodded and plastered a fake smile on her face, “Y-yeah, yes, it’s just that-” 
Jake’s shoulders squared as he stood up from his seat, “That what? What’s wrong?” 
Margaret set the transducer down and turned to face both of them, “I’m not seeing anything on the ultrasound.” 
“What?” Y/N looked from the nurse to Jake and back at the nurse. She felt her heart start to race as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “There’s. . .there’s no baby? I lost the-” 
“I don’t know,” Margaret said, “I-I’m not really authorized to read-” 
“How about you go find someone who is?” Jake said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. Margaret nodded rapidly and scurried out of the room with her head down. Jake scoffed and ran his hand through his hair, his jaw clenched shut, “What a fucking joke. Can you-” He looked down at his wife to find tears running down her cheeks, “Hey, sweets, what’s wrong?” 
“There’s no baby,” Y/N cried, and Jake wrapped her in his strong embrace. 
“We don’t know that,” Jake said, his voice strong and steady, “The nurse even said she’s not authorized to read it.” He pulled Y/N away from his chest and held her face in his hands. She looked up into his green eyes, “You hear me? We can’t jump to conclusions yet.” Y/N closed her eyes and nodded her head, not really believing a word Jake said. And to be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he believed what he said either. 
Jake gently shifted Y/N’s body so he could sit on the edge of the small exam table and hold his wife. They waited in painful silence for the doctor to come in. The only sound was the occasional sniffle from Y/N, which was followed by Jake pressing his lips to the top of her head. A small knock pulled them out of their quiet embrace as their usual doctor walked into the room. Jake felt some relief in his body, but the look on the doctor’s face didn’t help ease much of it. 
“I’m sorry for the wait,” Doctor Carpenter said, giving them both a sad smile, “Let’s see what’s going on.” She quickly went to the ultrasound machine. Jake moved off the exam table and stood by her side, holding her hand in both of his. 
Doctor Carpenter did the same thing as the nurse had done previously, putting the cold gel on Y/N’s belly and spreading it around her lower abdomen. Y/N looked up at the ceiling as Jake’s eyes were on the black-and-white screen in front of him. Doctor Carpenter worked in silence as she moved the transducer around, freezing on a spot, and taking a picture, before moving to another spot. The silence stretched for about ten minutes before Doctor Carpenter sighed, and placed the transducer down.  
Y/N closed her eyes as she felt Doctor Carpenter’s eyes on her. She couldn’t hear the words that came out of the doctor’s mouth but felt Jake squeeze her hand. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N and Jake, but there isn’t a viable fetus present,” Doctor Carpenter said, “I’m afraid Y/N has had what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. It doesn’t present like a normal. . .” 
It was all a blur after that. 
She could hear the door to the exam room shut. She could feel Jake move to lean over her and run a hand through her hair. She could faintly make out the sound of his voice as he spoke to her. She could feel him hold her in his arms, rubbing her back and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She could hear him sniffle and wipe away the tears from under his eyes. 
The car ride home was quiet, as Y/N leaned her head against the window, looking at the familiar landscape pass her by. Jake would occasionally glance over at her, noticing the hand that sat protectively on her belly. He shifted in his seat and looked at his wife again. 
Jake cleared his throat, “Are you in pain?” 
“Not physically,” Y/N answered, “It’s just. . . when you think about a miscarriage or losing a baby, you imagine blood and pain, not. . .” Y/N fought back tears, her mind trying to come up with the right words to say. Jake reached his hand across the center console and grabbed hers. Neither of them said another word as they drove the rest of the way home. 
When they arrived home, Jake noticed Amelia Benjamin’s bike by the front door. She usually babysat the kids after school while Jake & Y/N were at work. It was supposed to be a happy night, while Jake and Y/N shared pictures of their unborn child, and listen as Alex and Ella argued about whether it was going to be a boy or a girl. Now, all Y/N felt was dread of having to face her children and her parents. 
“Why don’t you go into the house from the garage and up the back steps,” Jake said, looking at his wife, “And I’ll go corral the kids to the backyard.” Y/N nodded her head in agreement, “I’ll be up soon and draw you a bath-” 
“I just want to lay in bed,” Y/N said, looking at Jake, “I’m okay. . . or I will be anyway.” 
Jake gave her a smile. Y/N was one of the toughest women he knew. She had to be tough when being married to an aviator. Nothing in Jake’s life was ever promised and Y/N had known that first hand. She had watched as partners of fellow aviators had been given folded flags instead of getting to hug their loved ones again. She always feared losing Jake, never one of her own babies. 
“I’m going to go in now,” Y/N said and Jake nodded. 
“Y/N,” Jake called her name as he stepped out of the truck. She looked up at him, “I love you, with all my heart and all my being.” 
Y/N smiled, “I love you too, with all my heart and all my being.” 
Jake took a moment, trying to gather his thoughts as he watched Y/N walk into the house. He turned the truck off and gathered his duffle bag from the back seat, before making his way to the backyard where he could hear the loud laughter of his kids. 
The second that Jake opened the gate to the backyard, Alex and Ella ran right to him. He greeted them with his usual bright smile and kiss on the cheek. He thanked Amelia for watching them and paid her. Then he stood on the front porch with Alex and Ella as Amelia rode her bike the two blocks it took to get to her house. 
“C’mon, let’s go get a snack,” Jake said, leading his kids inside the house. Alex climbed up on the stool at the kitchen island, while Jake sat Ella down on hers. He cut them up an apple, splitting it between the two of them, and giving them each a big dollop of peanut butter to go with. 
“Where’s Mommy?” Alex asked, looking around the kitchen for the usual bright ball of sunshine that was Y/N Seresin. 
“She’s uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “She’s not feeling well. She’s laying down right now.” 
“What wrong wit Mommy?” Ella asked, looking up at Jake with those big green eyes. Jake knew that at some point in time, they needed to talk to the kids about what happened, but he was hoping that he would have some time to gather his thoughts before telling them. If it was up to Jake, he would wait to talk to them, but he also knew that Y/N hated keeping things from them. 
“Your mommy,” Jake shook his head, “We found out today that. . . we lost the baby.” The room was silent for a moment as the five and two-and-a-half-year-old were trying to come to terms with what their father just said. How does one even explain the circle of life to kids? 
“How?” Ella asked. 
“I’m not really sure, Elles,” Jake said, running his hand over her blonde hair, “Sometimes, it just happens. There’s no explanation. There’s no reason. Sometimes, God decides he needs the baby a bit more than we do.” 
Alex blinked a couple of times, staring at the bottom wrung of the chair that Steve had chewed up, “Is that Baby with Uncle Bradley’s mom and dad?” 
Jake nodded, “Yeah. The baby is with Uncle Bradley’s mom and Dad, and Grandpa Seresin, and the dog your mommy had as a child, and Aunt Dragon’s babies.” 
“I don’t wike that,” Ella pouted, as the tears slowly started to roll down her cheeks. Jake cooed and walked over to her, picking her up in his arms, and holding her head against his chest as she cried. 
“I know, baby girl, I know,” Jake sniffled, “No one does. It’s hard to lose the people you love,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “All we can do now, is show mama some love, give her some extra cuddles. She’s going to be sad for a while.” 
“I wanna go to Mommy,” Ella mumbled and Jake nodded. He carried Ella in his arms and walked up the stairs toward their shared room. Alex stayed in his spot, still staring at that beat-up wrung of the stool. 
Jake knocked softly on the bedroom door, waiting for the invite from Y/N to let him in. He knew not to overcrowd her and make her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes Y/N reminded him of a scared, feral dog that had been kicked one too many times. But her quiet, soft voice granted him permission to come in, and Jake gently pushed the door open. 
Y/N was facing the door and looked up to see her baby girl with tears rolling down her cheeks. Y/N gave Jake a sad smile and shifted a bit in bed to make room for Ella. Silently, Jake stepped across the threshold and brought Ella to Y/N. 
“My baby girl, what are the tears for?” Y/N asked Ella, as Jake pulled back the covers and gently placed her next to her mom. 
“I don’t want you to be sad,” Ella mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. 
“I know,” Y/N said softly, “I’ll only be sad for a little while, I promise.” She pulled Ella in close to her chest and rubbed her back. Ella was like Jake in so many ways, that the small gesture was a sure way to make them both fall asleep. 
Jake smiled at his girls before returning downstairs to make Y/N some tea. Alex was still in the same spot as he was when Jake went upstairs. He eyed his child as he filled and set the kettle on the stove. Jake always felt like he had a hard time connecting with Alex. Y/N was already four months pregnant with him when Jake came home from a mission. And Jake had to leave when he was only three months old for another mission. Alex was also the complete opposite of his father and Jake struggled to find things they had in common. 
“What’re you thinking about, Lex?” Jake asked, leaning against the counter. 
“Do you know where I can get white roses?” Alex said, looking up at his dad. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, “Uncle Rooster always gets Aunt Dragon white roses on Ida’s birthday. He says they are for membrance.” 
“Remembrance,” Jake said, “And I think I know a place where we can get some.” 
— — — 
Three days later, Jake and Alex were in the middle of Y/N’s garden, while she sat in a chair with Ella. Doctor Carpenter told her to take the next couple of days easy while her body and mind processed the news of the miscarriage. The kids had been a great help, keeping Y/N’s mind off the loss and giving her the extra cuddles that she didn’t know she needed. 
“White Roses love the sun,” Y/N said, as Alex finished digging the whole, “You picked a perfect spot, Alex.” 
The little boy wiped the sweat from his brow as Jake brought over the poted plant, “Thanks, momma.” 
“Alright Ella, you want to come help with this?” Jake asked, and the little girl happily obliged. She wiggled out of her moms lap and walked over to where the two boys were standing. 
Jake gently pulled the rose bush from the bucket it sat in, remembering all the critiques Y/N gave him while he helped her plant to other flowers in the garden. Ella and Alex cupped the bottom of the plant as they gently eased it into the hole. Y/N stood up from her chair and walked over to her family, watching as the kids covered the base of the rose bush with fresh soil. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as Jake put his arm around her, pulling her flush against his side. 
“There!” Alex said, clapping the dirt off of his hands, “Do you like it?!” 
“We love it, baby,” Jake smiled, “Now come here! Family hug!” Y/N giggled as the kids ran right towards their legs, hugging them tightly, “I love you guys, with all my heart, and all my being.”
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januaryembrs · 20 days
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SUCH A PRETTY HOUSE | Joel Miller x Reader
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request: Can you do Joel miller x reader no surprises by radio head angst fic
description: Joel remembers that one summer he knew her, and the ten year scar it left him.
word count: 1.6k
warnings: Pregnant!Reader, major character death (canon to TLOU and also reader dies, not explicit,), guns, death, violence. Joel feels unworthy, mentions of Sarah.
authors notes: em tries not to write something heart wrenching challenge, go.
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There weren’t many things that meant something to Joel anymore. The day cordyceps took over the world, it took almost everything in him with it. Whatever was left made room for anger and resentment to curl inside him, make its home in his bones, make him lash out at everyone who wasn’t Tess. 
But he felt himself make an exception the day he met her. 
He’d been entirely sceptical when Tess told him she’d been able to find someone on a radio channel who could help them with supplies. It would mean sneaking out of QZ, a dumb move even on a good day, and trusting a stranger that was all but promising them candy if they climbed into his van. He wasn’t a stupid man, not by any means. But Tess had this way of bending his resolve, pushing him further and further if it meant they could come out better in the end. 
When they’d arrived to Frank and Bill’s for the first time, they were gobsmacked to see an entire street of houses cordoned off with barbed wire and explosives, as if it had never been touched by cordyceps, as if they’d catapulted into a time before people were eaten alive and before the world ended. A quaint little town with dusty cars and clean streets and houses and empty shops and gardens full of wildflowers and strawberries. 
Joel felt like he might be sick, but perhaps that was something between jealousy and caution just playing on his tongue. 
A spritely man a little older than him bounded down the stairs to the first house on the left, piercing blue eyes looking over them with the same excitement of a puppy being told to play fetch. There was no way a man so jolly could have done all of this himself. 
“Tess?” He called, and Joel remembered the way Tess smiled sweetly, because she was just as stunned as he was that they were in some sort of utopia, a little fence and a gate the only thing between them and how things used to be. 
“It’s Frank, right?” She guessed, and it was then that Joel heard the caution, “Didn’t you say there was two of you?” 
“Yes, Bill, my-” He stopped himself short, as if he didn’t quite know what to call him. He breezed over the hesitation quickly, buzzing in on the remote the combination, looking then to Joel, “You must be Joel,”
Joel gave him a nod, his fingers tightening on the shotgun in his hand. It wasn’t even a split second after the gate started to slide open that another man emerged from the house, his face thunderous as he barrelled down the stairs and towards where they stood. 
“Frank, didn’t I tell you to wait,” He snapped, his brows strained into a frown, a gun of his own in his palms, “We need to make sure she’s ready, they could be infected-”
“She?” Joel cut in it a biting tone of his own, “Who’s she? You said there was two-” 
“Bill,” Frank warned, as the shorter man produced a scanner out of his pocket and ran it over both of their necks. Joel knew this Bill could feel the heat of his glare on the side of his head, though as soon as the screen lit up green for both of them, he saw him take a sigh of relief. “We’re never going to make any more friends if you keep shoving them away,”
Joel couldn’t really blame him for worrying. 
It wasn’t until they saw the door opposite theirs swing open that he understood even more why Bill was so unwelcoming. 
He should have seen it before, the sweet hanging baskets full of lupines and primrose, the luscious lawn trimmed and primped, lined with tended bluebonnets and sunflowers beaming at the woman that emerged from the fresh white house with a bright grin, like she was their sun and they smiled back at her in awe.
She wore a white sundress, long enough to touch her knees, and it flowed with the warm breeze as they stepped past the threshold to the town, her feet bare save for some little brown sandals that seemed in better condition than he’d expect. Her face glowed with excitement, gaze switching between him and Tess, and her figure was full and soft at the same time. 
It wasn’t until she got closer he could see where her stomach pulled against the fabric obtusely and it was like a sadness washed over the two of them as she finally got close enough to talk. 
She was pregnant.
“You must be Tessa! Frank told me all about you,” She said, pulling the woman in for a warm hug Tess didn’t seem to have much of a choice in. 
“It’s Tess,” His companion corrected, though she gave her a light squeeze back, and her face softened out as if she didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, nor the new name. 
Bill froze up at the sight of her tugging Joel closer the minute she'd released Tess, ignoring every boundary his standoffish expression could possibly set, and it was like he understood why the flowers twinkled up at her. She was warm, incredibly so to the point even when he didn’t return the gesture, he felt himself conscious of how rough his skin was and how hard the gun must have been pressing against her chest where it squished in between them and how he hoped to god it wasn’t hurting her or the baby. 
He felt cruel the minute she pulled away, crueller than he usually felt, but his frown never wavered, not even when she simpered at him, despite Bill saying her name in a worried tone. 
“Just ignore him, he would bubble wrap me if he could,” She whispered to Joel, and her laugh was a tinkling bell in the wind. She grabbed Tess’s hand in a quick and gentle motion, walking her up the pathway back to her house, and Joel could have sworn he heard the promise of ice tea leave her lips.
“I’m so pleased to have another woman around,” She said to Tess, who looked as if she was fighting back a feathery happiness of her own around the woman who seemed too good to be true in a world so harsh as this one. 
Joel knew he would have his work cut out for him trying not to get attached. 
-
Ellie knew she was on thin ice already. For a girl of only fourteen, she was incredibly perceptive of people’s feelings, especially the grumpy, grey haired bastard that had just lost perhaps the only woman who meant anything to him. She had to admit Tess’s death made her feel like she was some sort of unlucky charm, like anyone who so much as got close to her was doomed from the word ‘go’. 
She hated herself for it, and she assumed from Joel’s silence and the way he’d stormed out of Bill and Frank’s house as soon as she’d read that letter that he hated her too. 
That was until she saw him walking across the street to the house with dead flower beds and smashed windows and no sign of life that she thought perhaps she wasn’t entirely the problem. 
She found him in the bedroom, laying on the double mattress with his eyes closed, though she knew he wasn’t sleeping. The walls were a pretty sort of posy pink, the sheets an intricate pattern of doves and white lilies, and a little painting on the nightstand of two women smiling at one another, one so clearly being Tess while the other remained an enigma. 
It wasn’t until she spotted the cradle next to the bed that her heart sank into her stomach. 
“Bill and Frank weren’t the first ones to die, were they?” Ellie asked softly, and he shook his head wordlessly, “Was it yours? The…”  The baby.  
She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She wouldn’t put it past him to yell at her for prying. 
He lay there like a wounded animal, and he shocked her when he actually spoke. 
“It wasn’t mine,” His voice was gravelly, hardened, yet worn out all the same, “But we were going to-” He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, “We were going to raise it together, the two of us. Tess was supposed to be godmother,”
He remembered the way she used to call her Tessa, and how Tess didn’t seem to mind it so much once she saw how truly sickly sweet she was to her core, and how she said it so full of love, the way you could only love your best friend. He remembered how he kissed her, a few months after that first time he’d seen her, how he’d kissed her and pulled her close and how they’d slept in that room together, and how he’d promised her everything was going to be okay because he was going to protect her and that baby. 
Joel remembered thinking that was his second chance. How he knew it wouldn’t bring Sarah back, nothing could ever, but maybe his sweet girl and that baby would be his chance to prove that he could save someone, that he could do some good. 
“What happened? Where’s the baby?” Ellie asked too intrusively, hoping he didn’t shut her out entirely after this, but she had to know. She had to know who the pretty woman in the picture was, and why Tess, even the little splotch of paint she was now, looked at her so besotted that Ellie had to have answers now. She had to know why they had never spoken about her and why Joel seemed to be giving up on her now. Like Tess had pushed him over the edge of a sadness years in the making. 
She didn’t think he would reply, but then; “One night, raiders came while me and Tess were getting her supplies from the city. Few weeks before she was due.” She heard his voice deepen into something dark and angry, “She didn’t stand a chance.”
And Ellie never brought her up again after that day, only once to ask her name, and neither did Joel. He left his sweet girl and whatever he could have been in that pretty house, put her in a box in his chest right next to Sarah, until it didn’t hurt so much to think about her.
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