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manicpixiefelix · 4 months

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

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At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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soapyghostie · 29 days

Note

Hey! Can I request Bubba sawyer x reader where the reader is pregnant with bubba’s child and how the family (brothers and grandpa) would react to it and what they’d do (especially if the reader had been in the family for years and all love her very much, in their own ways).

I’ve been working on this request for so long since I had to put it aside for schoolwork. However, I had sometime to finish writing it so I did so I could post it. Hope you enjoy!

Bubba Sawyer

When you first announce your pregnancy to Bubba, his face lights up with excitement and joy. He’s jumping up and down, squealing happily. He’ll give you a big hug too. The hug is not as tight as Bubba’s normal hugs are so as to not hurt the baby. But God! He’s just so excited to become a father to your child!

Although excited, internally Bubba is hiding his nervousness about becoming a father. He wants to be able to provide for you and y’all’s unborn child, but he worries about his abilities as a parent. If you notice his nervousness through his body language, please reassure him. He needs a lot of reassurance from you that he’ll be a good father to y’all’s child.

Bubba’s protective instincts will kick in upon learning about the pregnancy. He becomes more vigilant, ensuring your safety within the Sawyer family home. He can’t be by your side 24/7 because he has chores and provides ‘meat’ for the family so he has you stay inside the house throughout the day when victims are around. It is the safest place for you to be.

Bubba always cherishes quiet moments with you, as it’s often chaotic in the Sawyer household, often placing his hand gently on your stomach to feel the child’s moments.

Bubba is always at your beck-and-call, getting you whatever you want or need. Snacks? Water? Foot massage? Whatever you ask for Bubba will get it for you! He’ll make sure that you're always comfortable. He grunts and nods conveying his love and concern as his way of making sure you’re alright.

Drayton sees the pregnancy as an opportunity to expand the Sawyer family and continue the family legacy. He’s eager to welcome another member into the fold and spoils you with his cooking a lot. You gotta feed the baby, even before it’s born, so it becomes big and strong.

Nubbins is ecstatic about becoming an uncle. He’ll get in your face and bombard you with questions about the baby names and nursery decorations, his enthusiasm is infectious. He’ll even help decorate the baby’s room too!

ChopTop, in his usual eccentric manner, jokes about being your baby’s quirky uncle. He’ll pepper you with offbeat parenting advice, much to you and Bubba’s amusement. Don’t even listen to him. He doesn’t even know what the heck he’s talking about.

Grandpa Sawyer, though most of the time silent, will offer you quiet words of wisdom and true parenting advice (not any of ChopTop’s bullshit), imparting lessons learned from generations of Sawyers.

Despite their unconventional lifestyle, the Sawyer family works to create a nurturing environment for you and the unborn child. They all eagerly await the new addition and with their help you and Bubba prepare for parenthood.

The family loves to shower you with gifts for the baby, each item reflecting each family member's unique personalities and interests. Some of them are “interesting” if I do say so myself. What I mean by that is that you are really questioning about keeping some of the gifts, especially the ones from Nubbins and ChopTop. However, you do get gifts such as handmade toys and small clothes for the baby.

You and Bubba will bond over the anticipation of parenthood. Y’all discuss a lot about y’all’s hopes and dreams for y’all’s child as y’all lay in bed, drifting off to sleep. Y’all share your dreams about being future parents, envisioning a life filled with love and laughter even though y’all don’t have the best or the brightest life (if you know what I mean since the Sawyers are technically cannibals that are always on the run).

Y’all would also bond over preparing the nursery for the baby’s arrival. You would put up the decorations, since it’s the easiest thing to do, and Bubba will try his best to create a crib. He’s not the best at carpentry, but he knows enough to get by and make a decent and stable one.

As y’all wait for the baby’s arrival, you and Bubba embark on a new chapter together. Despite the uncertainty of y’all’s circumstances, you both find solace in the bond y’all share and the love that binds y’all together to y’all’s peculiar family.

#slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by deadlight #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #tcm #dead by daylight #nubbins sawyer #chop top sawyer #drayton sawyer #grandpa sawyer #sophi ghostie writes #dbd killer #dbd killer x reader

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aethon-recs · 8 months

Text

Themed Rec List | Voldemort-Raises-Harry Tomarrymort Recs

One of my favorite Tomarrymort themes is when Voldemort decides to raise Harry (perhaps to thwart the prophecy, or perhaps for other in-universe reasons, such as having shared soulmarks). Below is a selection of beloved fics where Voldemort is Harry's primary caretaker for some or all points during his childhood.

As always, please read the tags before reading any of these fics. There are some fluff and crack fics in this selection, but some of these do cover darker themes.

The flip side of Voldemort raising Harry is when Harry decides to raise Tom Riddle, so that will be the next batch of recs to accompany this one 🤍

Voldemort-Raises-Harry Tomarrymort Recs

Antedate by @duplicitywrites (T, 6k, complete)

From infancy, Tom Riddle had a habit of touching his left forearm. Just below the inside of the wrist, fingers trailing down the pale, sensitive skin, brushing along the visible veins right down to the ever-flickering black ink that signified— Signified what, exactly, Tom did not know, and by the time he was old enough to question it, he was also old enough to know better than to ask.

As Portioned from a Whole by @cannibalinc (E, 24k, WIP)

In which Lord Voldemort undermines the Prophecy and raises the infant Harry Potter as His; in all aspects.

Daddy Dearest by @katsitting (E, 24k, complete)

“But daddy, doesn’t it make you uncomfortable? Is that not the first thing you said when I walked in?” Harry began, leaning forward to plant his hands on either side of the desk.

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)

You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.

Exegesis by liquoricepantomime (M, 38k, WIP)

In exchange for peace, Voldemort asks for Harry Potter. And so, there is a new legacy that forms—of The-Boy-Who-Was-Sold, and his childhood spent in a castle, with a man who has killed his parents. A man who is mad, and whose ire reigns fiery hell. A man he will marry, and yet knows nothing about.

File A by Kushimani (E, 7k, complete)

In a different universe, one in which Voldemort wins, Voldemort finds eight-year-old Harry Potter in the basement of Fenrir Greyback and takes him in, not wanting Harry to go through what he himself had at the orphanage. Perhaps sending Harry there might have been for the best, as Voldemort finds himself having sinful dreams about the boy and terrible urges that he eventually cannot ignore any longer.

In Death, Standby by Sophisme (M, 94k, WIP)

After the infamous massacre of the Potters, young Harry Potter went missing. It doesn't really help that years later he turns up again, a bit darker, stranger and more erratic than anyone had hoped for. But Harry hardly cares, since in the end it's his decision on which side he will fight; Dark, Light or no side at all.

Like My Very Own Blood by @monsieurclavier (E, 13k, WIP)

Minister Riddle won his election in part because he took the extremely charitable path of adopting a war orphan—Harry Potter, the child of a historically Light family—and raising the boy as his own. It was an investment worth making... or it had been, until his quiet, clever son grew into a brilliant, scheming Omega determined to seduce his adoptive father by any means necessary.

Local Dark Lord Upstart Opens Bank Account, Inherits Millions by @duplicitywrites (T, 4k, complete)

A seventeen-year-old Tom Marvolo Riddle walks into Gringotts to open a bank account. The goblin teller says he needs to take an inheritance test before his coffers can flow with gold and his enemies can tremble before him...

Pale Shadow by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 5k, complete)

Harry was seven years old, so he was much too old to be afraid of monsters. Especially when those monsters were nice and probably just wanted a friend.

The Cherished One by @acciotomriddle (E, 1.5k, complete)

Voldemort chose not to kill Harry that night in Godric’s Hollow, and decided to raise him instead.

They, of Riddle Manor by riddlereading (M, 16k, complete)

Tom Marvolo Riddle shows up at the front door of Riddle Manor, and Cecilia Riddle answers. It changes how Halloween 1981 normally plays out at the Potter house and the fate of the wizarding world as we know it.

This Is Why You Don't Summon Demons, Harry by Kushimani (E, 59k, complete)

Harry Potter is seven when he's left at the nearby church by Petunia to get an exorcism. He becomes curious about a book on the nearby bookshelf, and opens it. That leads to him summoning a demon that he makes a deal with. The demon, Voldemort, will protect him, and in return the demon will devour his soul when it is ripe.

#tomarrymort #tomarry #harrymort #aethon recs #tomarry recs #tomarrymort recs #harrymort recs #hp fic recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #voldemort raises harry potter

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completeoveranalysis · 4 months

Text

[2]

NEW FAVOURITE COVER?

NEW FAVOURITE COVER!

Chapitre 201 - The Truth from within the Ruins

Oh this is just beyond gorgeous. Who can stand against the pure concentrated adorable that is Tsubasa Babies Family Photo? Now with all four of them!

I’m in love with all the tiny details that they clearly spent so long on - all the lovely folds of Sakura’s dress, the intricate detailing on Fai’s robe and staff. Lava Lamp is in his ceremonial garb, and tiny Kurogane IN HIS FANCY LITTLE OUTFIT. (AND HIS POSTURE? GET OUT. Incredible)

Kurogane doesn’t have Ginryuu yet (since this is Happy Childhood AU, so his father will still have it. Still has the moon though!) but Lava Lamp has the Syaoran Family Sword all ready to go. His outfit would be incomplete without it - they’re all wearing clothing from their home worlds, or maybe their families? I’m technically not sure which world Lava Lamp comes from, but his outfit is Family Legacy all the way down. I’m dying to know if Fai’s outfit is in the style of Seresu or Valeria - I don’t think they’re all that different, but I think I would put my money on Valeria based on the position of the fur and the curl motif. In which case it’s fun for me that his Happy Family AU is in Valeria instead of with Ashura. (sorry not sorry Ashura get fucked)

I suppose in this version he never had reason to leave Valeria in the first place, so it’s a very nice touch that the outfit doesn’t immediately resemble the clothing he wore in his backstory, since that’s all so closely linked to the death of his twin, who would be alive here. Very nice visual choices all around, especially with each of them in their own unique colour pallette. Oh, and even with the colour differences they all have bits of yellow somewhere on them, showing their connection.

The left/right split between them is really fun too - sword wielders on one side, phenomenally powerful magic users on the other, cats vs dogs, unique child/parent pairings, etc. It’s very funny to me that they found a super fancy chair for Sakura and a cushion for Kurogane, but nothing for the other two. But Fai draping himself over the chair is such an incredible piece of character flair, which I am in love with, but also, the TOUCH? The little touch of tiny hands? Sakura reaching back to put her hand on the back of Fai’s? Tiny Lava Lamp’s little grip on Kurogane’s arm? OH it’s so touching.

And behind them all? THAT WINDOW. Such a clear symbol positioned directly in the centre frame. At first I thought it might be an eye, but this is Happy Family AU so there should be no Evil Wolverine to spy on them. What I’m voting on instead is CLAMP playing with Tarot symbols again and this being the Wheel of Fortune, or a similar idea of a wheel of destiny. They use the latter idea a lot in their earlier works (RG Veda and X/1999 say hi), but I think the tarot symbol in particular really shines through with the ideas they’re playing with in Tsubasa/xxxHolic, and has a very strong parallel to the idea of hitsuzen.

After some much safer googling it looks like the “Wheel of Fortune” in Tarot can mean change or cycles or inevitable fate, but on the flipside could also be lacking control. I think the reversed meaning of the card really speaks to me the most about their situation in general, as it describes bad luck and misfortunes thrust upon you from external forces, that you are fighting to take control back from an unwinnable situation. That fighting it is impossible, that continuing to fight it can only bring more suffering, and that the only option is to let it go. To stop blaming yourself for the thing you did wrong, or the thing that you think was your fault. To forgive yourself, to accept it all, to let yourself move on, to accept that change is inevitable, and to finally be able to move forward and just let everything happen.

Because if that’s not exactly the whole situation we are in I don’t know what is. It’s a mirror for the things that Fai and Kurogane have already been through, and for what Lava Lamp Guy is still currently fighting, and CLAMP love to do drop these symbols all the time.

And this is a bit of a tangent but who’s gonna stop me? Clamp LOVE their tragic destiny pairs, especially in their early works - the couples deeply love but also cursed by fate, like Kendappa and Souma, Ashura and Yasha (flavoured differently in RG Veda, but still fitting this cycle again in Tsubasa), Subaru and Seishirou, Sorata and Arashi (unfinished), Kamui and Fuuma, etc. The characters who are so different from each other, so diametrically opposed, but in love still, and it burns so strong that they either have to kill each other or let the world burn around them - or both! They’re always fighting destiny, just like the reversed wheel of fortune, and they fight it to the point of obliteration.

AND THEN we have Tsubasa, and I think it’s so endlessly interesting that they took the same pattern and turned it around. Syaoran and Sakura definitely fit the theme (and wild that they took the Cardcaptor Sakura happy couple deliberately to make the most universe shattering tragedy out of it, but I still haven’t seen how their story ends, whether one will have to tragically die to save everything or whether they’ll get out somehow). But what I mostly want to talk about (surprise surprise) Kurogane and Fai, who fit the pattern exactly. Complete opposites, diametrically opposed, set up as antagonists and destined to kill each other but fall in love instead. That they both fight against the tragic pasts that defined them and eventually change their mind. Eventually, slowly, they accept love again and realise that they can actually live with themselves and each other if they let it all go.

And I think what really gets me is that if this was an earlier Clamp work they absolutely would have tragically died - they would have killed each other in the climax of Seresu and it would have been beautiful and terrible and no-one ever would have ever emotionally recovered from the complete and utter devastation.

BUT THEY DIDN’T.

CLAMP spend all of Tsubasa revisiting all their old works, taking us through a parade of the various tragedies they’ve sung across the years, all leading up to them ultimately breaking their own pattern and letting Fai and Kurogane save each other from the same Clamp fate that claimed every tragic pair before them. They choose each other and get out alive. They stop blaming themselves for the unchangeable parts of destiny and finally forgive themselves. And it’s just very emotional to me that it’s these two that make it, these two that get to recover and choose each other and live their lives inseparable from this point on. The two that had arguably the most tragic backstories also get to face their trauma, survive, and live.

And it’s just so beautiful to see how the CLAMP storytelling method has changed over the years, and to find out that after all these years, the big destiny story they really wanted to tell in their longest and most detailed work was about the two men who fell in love, against all odds and saved each other. Despite absolutely everything saying that it should be impossible, it’s Kurogane and Fai that finally flip the tarot card back around and live.

And I’m extremely interested in what this means for Lava Lamp and Not!Sakura.

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barcaracing · 10 months

Note

bye you’re one of the best writers on here for pedri😭 could i request a one where his girlfriend meets his parents and brother for the first time at a football match?? You’re amazing!!!

pairing: pedri x fem!reader

warnings: none

a/n: ahh tysm :,))<3 sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, i have no excuse. i’m just bad at checking my inbox and great at forgetting tumblr exists. hope u like this one!

******

"Mi vida, I love you, you know I do, but if you don't stop bouncing your leg, I will swerve into Lewy's car and we'll both die with no money and a lawsuit for a legacy." Pedri puts his hand on your thigh while looking over his shoulder to reverse the car into the parking spot. Meeting your eyes, he winks. "And that's usually not what football players get sued for."

You can't help but laugh, pushing his shoulder lightly before forcing yourself to relax. You know there's no reason to be nervous about meeting his family, especially since they're probably the nicest people on this planet given that they literally raised your boyfriend, the kindest and most down-to-earth person you know. But that doesn't change the fact that you need them to love you. There's literally no other option. It's either that or death.

"Sorry," you say sheepishly, glancing at the expensive vehicle parked next to you. You're not sure how much it's worth, but getting sued by the striker for property damage would probably leave you dirt-poor. "He wouldn't actually sue you for hitting his car, right?" You muse. "It's not like needs the money. Or the car."

Pedri shakes his head. "No, but he'd do it to get back at me for flinging the gymnastic ball at his face yesterday."

"Oh," you say, wincing. "Sounds fair."

Pedri snorts and turns off the engine before unbuckling himself. He turns to you with a gentle smile and those big, earnest eyes of his and you feel your heart stutter.

"Ready?" He says and for a second you need to remind yourself that he didn’t ask if you wanted to run away with him and start a cute little family on a island somewhere, but if you were ready to leave the car. That silly mind of yours.

"No." You laugh helplessly. "But can't back out now, can I?"

"You could," Pedri says slowly, thumb rubbing circles into your thigh. "But they'll love you. You've talked to Fer on FaceTime and my parents are fond of you already. You have nothing to worry about and there's nothing you could do wrong. I promise.”

You can see that Pedri genuinely means every word, and it warms your heart to know how important this is to him. You're important to him, you realise, and just like that, you'd do anything for him. That’s crazy, right? He really has you wrapped around his finger and that is one mortifying and reassuring realisation to have right before meeting his parents. Leaning forward, you capture his lips in a kiss before mirroring his smile when you pull back.

"What if I start cheering for Atlético?" You ask innocently.

Pedri pecks your lips again. He pulls the keys out of the ignition and pats your knee, the metal feeling cold against your skin. "Then I'll sue you for property damage."

"What did I damage?"

"My heart."

You burst out laughing. Pedri shoots you a cheeky grin before exiting the car and a moment later, the door on your side opens. You step out, shaking your head at your boyfriend's crooked smile. "That was horrible."

Pedri closes the door and pulls you closer by the loop on your pants, pressing a kiss into your hair. "Anything to hear that pretty laugh of yours." He leaves his hand on the small of your back and rubs the familiar fabric of his kit between his fingers. "Nice kit," he comments as you make your way to the entrance.

"Thanks." You hum, looking down at it. "I wanted to get Gavi's but they didn't have it in-store so I got this. Player 8 is alright."

Cutting you a sideways glare, Pedri pinches your skin, making you yelp. "I take it back. You're horrible." He crosses his arms. "I hope they dislike you and Fer pushes you down the stairs."

You look at him with wide eyes. "Pedri!"

"That's what you get. I hope you get a good tumble in. Toppling down those steps like a cartoon character until there are birds flying over your head." He manages to keep a straight face for a moment longer before he completely dissolves into giggles. Like actual giggles and it's the cutest thing you've ever seen even if you want to kick him.

You both come to a slow halt at the entrance. It leads to the changing rooms, but you need to go through another door to get to your seats. Mikky and the others are probably already inside and so is his family, which is honestly terrifying to think about. You really wish Pedri could at least come with you to introduce you or just stand there and look pretty, but he's already running late.

"I'm sorry," Pedri says with a hint of remaining laughter. He takes both your hands into his and meets your gaze. "Just breathe, yeah? You'll be fine, princesa. My parents and brother will finally meet the beautiful, smart, funny, and kind girl that I've been talking about since March. It’ll be special." He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. For a moment, all you hear is his heartbeat and things don't seem as dire anymore.

“I’m excited to meet them too, amor," you say softly and pull back to kiss him, whispering against his lips, "Go win this, campéon. We'll be cheering the loudest in there." You poke his side. "Only if I don't crack open my skull and bleed out on those stairs, of course. You fucking sadist."

Pedri chuckles and lowers his face into the nape of your neck, shoulders shaking with laughter. After some encouraging words and a few more kisses, you part ways and find yourself moving on autopilot while going to your seats. Weirdly, it calms you. Camp Nou always has. You've walked through these halls so many times now and every time, you feel like nothing bad could happen at a place this magical.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat anyway when you approach your seats and a familiar-looking dark-haired boy in a Barca kit takes one look at you and his whole face lights up. "Y/N, hola!"

This gets the attention of Pedri's parents, who spin around and immediately greet you with warm smiles and kisses on the cheek. "It is so nice to finally meet you," Rosy says, hugging you tighter. "Pedri has told us so much about you."

"He really did," his father teases, giving you a hug as well. "Can't get him to shut up even if we wanted to."

You laugh, feeling your face heat up at his words. "He's been telling me so much about you all as well, I'm so happy we finally get to meet." Rosy squeezes your arm and Fer flashes you a smile so familiar, it makes you feel like you can actually, genuinely do this. "So when did you arrive? I hope you haven't been waiting for too long."

"Oh, not at all," Pedri’s father replies, "we just got here ourselves. We were hoping to talk to Pedri before the match, but it's fine. We'll see him afterwards."

"About that," Rosy swoops in, and you notice how soft her voice is. “We were hoping to go out to dinner with you two if that's alright with you both. And if you don't have other plans, of course."

You shake your head, warming up to the idea of spending more time with them. "We'd love to join you. Especially after that lunch fiasco today."

"That's great," Rosy answers at the same time that Fernando asks,

"What happened at lunch?"

Sighing, you shake your head and sink to your seat. "It's too terrible to talk about." You glance at them conspicuously before leaning forward as if to share a secret. God knows where the confidence suddenly comes from. "Pedri tried to cook for us."

Horrified gasps meet your statement.

"What did he make?" says Rosy, sounding concerned. "I'm so sorry, mi niña."

"Don't ever let him do that again if you don’t want to get food poisoning. He cooked for me once and I nearly saw the light," Fer warns with a shake of his head.

"Pedri can cook?" Fernando asks, looking extremely confused.

“Can’t,” all three if you say at the same time.

“Oh.” He blinks. “Well, that’s a shame considering we have a restaurant.”

“At least he’s got football going for him. Plus, a beautiful girl who eats his deadly food,” Rosy says.

“Ah.” Fer sighs. “Young love.”

You join their laughter and let your gaze wander down to the pitch as more players start warming up. Honestly, you haven’t even noticed that they’ve come out, but you suppose that can only mean that you’ve gotten along pretty well so far with Pedri’s family, which is a good thing. Very good.

Your eyes land on your boyfriend, who is already looking up at where you’re sitting with his parents and brother. There’s a wide smile stretching across his face and when he gives a wave, you all cheer and wave back. Pedri’s eyes meet yours and you could swear there’s a twinkle in them. He holds up a thumb and arches an eyebrow.

Smiling brightly, you nod and mirror his thumbs up. A dopey grin break out on his face and he touches his lips to send you a kiss. It’s embarrassing how you can’t even pretend not to be absolutely giddy and smitten by this.

You are quick to send a kiss back, which he catches and presses into chest while walking backwards, eyes still locked onto yours. He nearly trips over a ball and you can’t help but laugh, his parents and brother joining in and teasing the both of you relentlessly. The smile your face is hard to wipe off. You really had nothing to worry about.

*****

feedback is always appreciated, stay hydrated kids :)

#pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri x y/n #pedri #pedri fluff #pedri x you #pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri fic #fc barca #fc barcelona fanfic #fc barca fanfic #pedri blurb

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elegantsplendour · 9 months

Text

Of Blossom and Betrayal

Summary:

AU: Green victory, the realm called for a new queen after Queen Helena's demise

Seraphina Tyrell did not belong to the worldly realm of Westeros; a lone child conceived of loyalty, love and devotion. A beacon like her attracts the darkest of souls, in the darkest of times.

💌 Aegon II Targaryen and Aemond Targaryen

Warnings: manipulation, abuse of power, mentions of rape, slight underage, dub con, violence. Specific warnings will be added at the beginnings of each chapter.

Cast

Chapter 1

Prologue: Highgarden

Tag list: @purple-writer8 @vhagarswar @femmechaotic

Other friends: @boundlessfantasy @arcielee @qyburnsghost

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Lord Lyonel Tyrell was a man of honour, loyalty and vigilance. Succeeding in remaining neutral, assuring his family’s survival and maintaining the influence of his house in one of the bloodiest war since Aegon’s Conquest, if not of all of Westerosi history, was an accomplishment that many of his position had dreamt of.

Loyalty? He laughed bitterly at the memory of the bright and confident smile on his long gone brother Bryan’s departing figure to King’s Landing to serve under Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Be loyal to no one but his family, his loved ones.

It was the code he had lived by since Bryan’s unexpected tragic demise at the hands of Rogue Prince himself, a man his poor brother, the innocent messenger sent by King Viserys, admired and sworn loyalty to, fourteen years ago.

Lyonel remembered the day the news of his demise reached his father, the former lord of Highgarden.

People sing that there were six stages of grief.

Shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

But when it came to a devoted seventy two year old father, the grief ended in the very first.

Two days later, Lyonel, the second son, whose ambitions never surpassed the allure of marrying Lady Jayne Lannister and sampling the finest wines and sugary with his beloved, inherited the legacy he had never been prepared for.

The Targaryens will always do what’s best for the Targaryens.

Those were his late father’s last words.

To survive the Targaryen rule, Lyonel played by their rules. Schemes, betrayals, deceptions and bloodshed? He did not shy away from them. He bore the burden so his family, his people, didn’t have to.

With his hands on the cold balcony, Lord of Highgarden bathed the fresh air of flowers, the peaceful chirping of insects, the giggling of young maids and the distant melodies from the small folks returning to their homes after a long day of labour.

This was his empire he defended.

One of loyalty, honour and love.

His beloved Jayne, her arms wrapped around his waist.

Seraphina, his precious jewel, his sweet little rose, the one and only fruit of his and Jayne's love's many attempts at blooming.

His Lancel, Bryan's illegitimate offspring, whom he had taken under the Tyrell bloodline, a fierce and honorable knight, a fine protector, his heir.

“Lord Ormund has written again,” Jayne rested her head on his shoulder, her golden curls soothing his skin as much as his mind, “The letter touched me, the words he’s chosen, the sincerity of his voice. He truly desires a betrothal between his first born and Seraphina.”

Jayne traced her fingers on her husband’s cheeks, “He wishes to introduce them in King’s Landing.”

“King’s Landing?” Lyonel frowned deeply, “It should be fit for them to present themselves to Highgarden, especially when Phina was the one who treated their wounded bodies in the woods, risking the slaughter of the ruthless Northerners.”

Jayne swallowed hard as she recalled the turbulent times of the war.

Although negotiations, strategies and armies kept the castle away bloodshed and dragon fire, the walls were not impenetrable to whimpers of loss and screams agony from the highborn’s well acquainted soldiers calling the Rose without Thorns to their rescue, even at the interdiction of her parents.

Every time the Rose sneaked away from safety, the Lord and Lady of Highgarden sobbed while the peasants and soldiers rejoiced. Her empathetic smile, attentiveness to their wounds and of course, the herbs and food she had carried with her ignited the flicker of hope in the darkest times.

One fateful day, Seraphina stumbled upon two injured knights bedecked in green armor, hidden in the woods—Ormund and Daryn Hightower, gasping for air, on the brink of death from the Battle of Tumbleton.

As Seraphina returned with the blood stained figures of the castle, Lyonel and Jayne’s anger and fear exacerbated.

Highgarden had remained unharmed because of its neutrality that their naive daughter had just broken.

Yet, the gods seemed to show them mercy, perhaps in honor of the lives House Tyrell defended. The Blacks remained oblivious to this act, which could be seen as a declaration of allegiance. Instead, Seraphina’s uncalculated move of benevolence eaned House Tyrell a favourable position in the new Targaryen court: an intimate alliance with the most influential house beside the new king.

As Lyonel contemplated the offer in silence, Jayne squeezed his hand, “Daryn is a handsome, brave and honourable young man. I recognized the look on his face when Seraphina brought him back from the wild,” she pressed a kiss on cheek, “It’s the same way you looked at me years ago, lord husband.”

Lyonel’s gaze softened as he enveloped his wife into his arms with a light chuckle, “Your jest on formality never cease, my love. If the young Hightower truly feels the same about our daughter as I did to you twenty five years ago,” he cupped her cheeks, “Then, perhaps, that boy deserves her hand.”

Jayne held her husband tightly, relishing his scent and warmth. In a world cruel as this, she thanked to the gods everyday for granting her a man of his devotion, wisdom and strength.

“To King’s Landing then?”

“To King’s Landing,” Lyonel nodded before rolling his eyes, his never dying youthful side emerging, “Where the drunken king will be holding a foolish lavish pageant while his people starve. Seven bless the poor girl he will choose as the new queen.”

Jayne laughed wholeheartedly before tending to his arm, returning to the warmth of the interior, “You know, fate favoured us immensely,” she whispered with a mixture of gratitude and anxiety, “If we had agreed to the Kinslayer’s proposal in marriage-“

Lyonel suddenly gripped the touch of her hand, “Thank the wisdom my father and brother had bestowed me. Never trust a Targaryen. The rumours of…” disturbance and disgust written all over his face, “Lady, now a Princess, Cassandra Baratheon’s screams of pain echoed through the Red Keep on her wedding night. I cannot imagine-“

He buried his face in his hands as he sat down with his wife next to the fireplace.

Jayne brushed his hair with adoration, “Don’t overthink about the past, my love. Phina is about to marry a good man.”

The lord smiled as he lifted his head to face his beloved, “Everything I risked, I fought for, it was worth it. For you, for her, for Lancel, and for our people.”

Jayne kissed him passionately before whispering, “You are too good for this world, Lyonel Tyrell.”

As the stars gracefully pirouetted around the moon in the embrace of the night's darkness, and with the imminent date of embarking on the journey to King's Landing drawing near, the wheel of fate began its inevitable revolution once more.

#aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen fanfic #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aegon ii fanfic #dark aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x oc #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #alicent hightower

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 months

Text

Percy: Huh, I thought given how much Camp Jupiter... Feels about Jason those officers would've listened to you over him.

Reyna: You'd think. But while they might look down at Jason, he has them outmatched in experience and rank, while I only have rank over them.

Percy: True. I forget sometimes you joined only a few years ago. It's like you were born here or something.

Reyna: chuckles Or something.

Octavian: It's scary how you quickly you adapt though. I remember when I showed up and Jason just went "you'll get used to it" once shit got crazy around here.

Reyna: Wait, I thought you and Jason joined together? Or at least around the same time.

Octavian: shakes his head Nope, Jason was already here when I joined Camp Jupiter.

Percy: When did you join?

Octavian: 7 years ago, so when I was 11.

Reyna:... That's pretty early, especially for a legacy. No offence.

Octavian: shrugs None taken. My parents were gonna wait till I was an adult. But my powers set in and suddenly they could only think that hey our kid can see the future he'll be a brilliant asset to the Leigion.

Reyna: I... am paying them a visit the next time we're in the mortal world.

Percy: Same, fucking hell.

Octavian: snorts Thanks...but yeah Jason was already here.

Jason: Jason was already where? Sorry I heard my name.

Reyna: Hey, we were just wondering when you joined Camp Jupiter.

Jason: 2.

Percy: 2...years ago? But that doesn't make sense.

Jason: No, 2 years old... Why are you all looking at me like that?

Reyna:... What the fuck?! What... The fuck?!

Octavian:... I didn't think... You weren't that much younger than me so I didn't think...

Jason: Guys it's okay.

Percy: Nothing about this is okay! You were a baby, Jason...Thalia would've still be around how did...

Jason: Ah... That. Well, Juno started harassing my mum with monsters. Told her they'd go if she left me, but she was gonna come back she promised... And than she didn't. Lupa got me, went to the Wolf House, survived and I've been here ever since.

Reyna: To reiterate my previous point, what the fuck!

Jason: Guys, it wasn't that bad.

Percy: I almost died in the Wolf House now... You went through that at 2.

Octavian: No wonder you were so feral.... Wait... Horrified Realisation You have tattoos for every year you've been here, right?

Jason: Yup, 13 lines for 13 years.

Reyna:...So not only did some idiot decide to train a baby with a sword... They tattooed you too?!

Jason: It wasn't that bad. I mean they did have to hold me down, because I was crying and trying to bite them but yeah... Why are you all looking at me like that?

#jason grace #octavian pjo #reyna avila ramirez arellano #percy jackson #Featuring Jason not realising his past is very traumatising #Octavian did join at 11 but the reasoning I added in #heroes of olympus #long post

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ronwestbreeze · 1 year

Text

TO YOU , WORLDS AWAY : PART ONE : CHAPTER FOUR

pairing: jake sully x human!fem!reader

summary: in which you go back to hell's gate for a check-in

warnings: mentions of su*cide

word count: 2.8k

author's note: i like going into character backgrounds and relationships with others so that's gonna happen a lot in this fic along with developing jake and reader's relationship, hope y'all don't mind!

AO3 | prev | next

“It’s Quaritch.”

Grace’s voice cut through your otherwise quiet lab, rattling you out of your peace by uttering just one name.

“Why?” Was what left your lips first.

Grace closed the door and walked further into your lab before continuing, “Check-in. He’s been doing it monthly, ever since we came to Site 26. Jake’s the one who’s been usually reporting back to him.”

You moved your designs for Project Pandora to the side and out of her sight when she got closer. “What’s changed?” You turned to look at her with furrowed brows before switching to Na’vi, “Is he not his puppet?”

She frowned, giving you one of her scolding parent looks, “He’s changing.” Her scowl hardened when you rolled your eyes before continuing. “And I know you’ve seen it too. And if the both of us have noticed then Quaritch has bound to as well. Why else is he asking for you instead of Jake?”

“Probably to torment me. Let me know that I’m somehow still under his control.” You glared down at your hands that were now clenched together.

“Like a puppet?” Grace asked gently. You didn’t respond. She took another chair in the corner of the room and pulled it up next to you. “Tinkers, listen to me. You gotta stop letting him get in your head.”

“I could say no.” You mumble instead, eyes still on your hands. “That I won’t meet him. Send him a big middle finger while I’m at it.”

Grace snorted, “As much as I want that—and believe me, I do—something tells me we shouldn’t mess with things—”

Your jaw clenched and you shook your head sharply, “If I continue to go back there, to be summoned by him like some lapdog, then I am no better than those soldiers that continue to follow him!”

Grace went quiet as you fought back tears.

No matter what you did to try and move on, to try and not think about it, that night still played over and over again in your mind. Appeared in your dreams—barely sleeping now because of it—it was all still fresh. Like it happened only yesterday instead of two years ago.

You held your head in your hands, tears now streaming down your face, throat closing up as you let out shaky and strained sobs.

“I could’ve stopped him, Grace. I could’ve convinced him—”

“No, no.” The scientist shook her head firmly, grasping your hand tightly in hers. “None of what happened is your fault. Do you hear me?” She then grasped your face so you were looking at her. “Don’t ever blame yourself for what happened. That was on Quaritch and the RDA, not you.” Her thumbs wiped at the tears as she continued in a quieter voice, “We can’t keep living in the past, kiddo. Especially, when the preset is constantly changing before us.”

You nod, sniffling. It took a few minutes for you to calm down. Grace waited right next to you. Her hand resting on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze every now and then. It was a comfort, her presence always was. Until you met Grace Augustine, you never truly knew what a parent’s love was. Not really.

Your mother was always busy building her legacy in science, making sure to make a solid name for herself so that she’d earn great respect. To be looked at in the same light as her other successful male colleagues. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, in fact you admired her greatly for it and it always inspired you to do the same. But the chance of being a mother was never in the cards for her. She was always too busy and worked herself to an early grave. You were sixteen.

Then there was your father. A respected military captain and a longtime friend of Miles Quaritch. Shot himself in the head in his bedroom while you were downstairs, oblivious until the nanny found him hours later. You were nine.

In your father’s letter, he had asked for Quaritch to take you in and help your mother take care of you, to have a father-like figure in your life. You had to laugh at that, really. The damned bastard wasn’t even taking care of his own kid, a fucking baby at that, and yet your father expected him to do the same for you? It was ironic, really.

Quaritch did for a while. Wasn’t perfect at it but he was all you had, so who were you to complain in the beginning.

Then the shut down of Grace’s school happened and it felt as if you had been abandoned all over again.

But Grace found you. She’d always find you.

You chuckled pathetically, wiping at your eyes. “You really don’t have to take care of me like this. I know I can be a lot.”

“Hey, someone has to keep your genius intact. Otherwise who else would be able to keep up with my own genius?” Grace smirked, shaking your shoulders.

With a snort, you smacked her hand away and stood. “I’ll see him.” Grace watched you cautiously and you nodded confidently to yourself. “Yeah, I’ll do it.” Just as you grabbed your mask and radio, you turned back to the redhead woman as she got up as well. “What do you want me to tell him?”

Both of you exited your lab. Norm was sitting next to the link bed where Jake was currently about to get linked up in. Upon the men both noticing you both, Grace switched to Na’vi, “Tell him we’re making progress, nothing more. And if he starts asking questions, just be you and piss him off.”

You frown, “If I do that, he might raid my lab and shut us down.”

“Then find any reason to end the conversation before he starts pushing.” Grace sighed.

“I’ll try, I guess.” You started messing with the radio.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked, as you tried calling Trudy through the radio to pick you up.

With a shrug, you said as you gripped the mask tightly in your other hand, “Well, apparently his little puppet isn’t cutting it anymore, so Quaritch wants to see me.”

Jake straightened, staring at you with a mixture of disbelief and perhaps worry, “Wait, what? What does he want with you? Why didn’t he just request to see me like he always does?”

“What do you mean by puppet?” Norm asked instead, glancing between you and Jake curiously. “Is that like some strange sexual innuendo that I’m not getting?”

You roll your eyes and decide to focus on the radio as Grace replies instead, “Norm, you think you can take over lessons for Jake today?”

“Yeah, sure.” You heard him mutter while the radio came to life with Trudy’s voice.

After a few minutes of conversation, you finally turned back to the others, “Trudy will be here in twenty. She’s sending a helicopter.”

“Doc.” Jake called, trying to catch your eye. When you allowed yourself to meet his gaze he spoke to you softly in Na’vi. “Are you sure about this?”

You try not to look impressed, “You’ve gotten better, Puppet. But of course it’s because of me , so I’m not surprised.” Making a joke and forcing a smile was what kept you from breaking down into tears again.

Fortunately, Grace changed the subject, “Come on, Marine. Time to get going. I’m sure she’s waiting on you.”

Reluctantly, after breaking gazes, Jake finally lied down as Grace got him linked up.

Norm turned to you, brows raised curiously, “Why does the Colonel want to see you?”

You sighed, “Honestly, I really don’t give a shit.”

“Atta girl.” Grace grinned.

The cafeteria was empty save for you and Quaritch. He was already sitting when you entered and sat down at the table with him. You always felt small around him, like you were still this little girl looking up at him, intimidated by him. Instead of allowing him to see that, you willed your face into a blank mask and frowned at him, waiting for him to ask the questions.

“Corporal tells me you’ve been doing a good job training him.” He hummed casually, crossing his bulky arms. “I trust that means things are going well then?”

You shrugged, “I suppose. But that’s up to the Na’vi to decide if he’s one of them. Not me.”

He snorted while leaning back in his seat, “Well then what’s takin’ them so long? Those paranoid fuckers have no reason not to trust him, right? So what’s the hold up?”

“They won’t just let anyone into the clan.” You tried reasoning through gritted teeth. “It’s bad enough they don’t trust us as it is—with good reason—imagine how it would look if we were to rush their process.”

For a few moments, he watched you in both observation and disbelief. You waited, not once breaking his stare. If you were to look away, then he would know you were holding something back, hiding from him. He has a way of picking you apart. Sometimes.

“Why is it that you defend those savages? Over your own race?” Quaritch asked you as if it was a difficult concept to believe, almost as if you had betrayed him and he was trying to understand why that was.

He didn’t know what betrayal was. Not yet at least. But perhaps you had betrayed him long ago, ever since you first thought up Project Pandora.

“This isn’t our home.” You say simply, noticing his jaw tightening as you said that. “We are the trespassers. We are the infestation to them. Demons. We’ve practically destroyed parts of their home. It’s no wonder they don’t like us.”

Quaritch still watched you, keenly. “And are you filling Jake Sully’s head with this nonsense? Is that why Dr. Augustine had him carted away and out of my reach, so you all can fill his head with horseshit? Turn him against me?”

“Is that why you asked me here?”

“I’m just lookin out for you, kiddo. Wouldn’t want you ending up on the wrong side of this war.”

Your brows furrowed, “You think there’s going to be a war? Why would there be war?”

Quaritch shrugged, “Depends on Sully. If things go our way, then we can avoid any more mess that could possibly come if it doesn’t go our way.”

Depends on Sully? What did that mean? Was there more to why Quaritch tasked Jake to infiltrate the Omatikaya? Of course you always suspected there was but you never really had enough to go on. But now that Quaritch was alluding to it, whatever he asked Jake to do, now you were worried. Now you were angry.

“Do you even care about me?”

The question threw him off, even you were startled by it. It wasn’t what you initially wanted to say but this somehow slipped out instead of the angry rant you wanted to throw his way.

Quaritch then glared, “That’s not what we’re here to talk about—”

But you kept going, “Do you care about anything other than yourself or your obsessive need to take over a planet that doesn’t even belong to you? Do you even care for your newborn son—”

“That’s enough, Doc—”

“You never talk about him. So I just assumed he was dead or that you just didn’t give a rat’s ass about him—”

“I said that’s enough—”

“You claim you’re trying to look out for me, that you don’t want me on the wrong side of the war. Is that you actually trying to be some type of father or am I just another obstacle in your way—”

The slam came before you saw his hand hit the table.

“ENOUGH!”

Quaritch was now standing, scowling down at you. Yu refused to be afraid of him, you refused to cower away. The tears in your eyes was that of anger, not fear. You hoped he knew that. Though, you weren’t entirely sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

He pointed at you calmly, “I’m not your father, kid. Your father is long dead. And you are a grown woman. If you want to be reckless and get yourself fucking killed then so be it. I won’t even fucking blink. You hear me?”

Your silence made him falter. Your glassy eyes made him look away from you.

The silence was deafening. Quaritch paced away, back now facing you.

“You are dismissed.”

This was a bad idea. You knew this. And yet you still came anyway. For Grace, for the Avatar Program, hell even for Jake.

You just hoped it was worth it. You really did.

When you got back Jake was still in the link bed. Norm seemed to have a better attitude these days and was helping Grace out. She must’ve given him a talk and it seemed to have worked out for the better.

You were quiet and didn’t bother to say anything when you arrived back. Grace noticed your change and immediately ordered you to the back where the beds were. You would’ve protested and said you would be better keeping yourself busy in the lab but Grace insisted. Norm didn’t ask any questions. Thank Eywa for that.

So now, you were just lying in bed either staring at the ceiling lost in thought or trying your very best to not doze off to sleep. Really, as soon as your head hit the pillow—one you hadn’t touched in weeks—your body instantly felt like taking a long overdue rest.

Usually you have avoided any type of sleep, scared of revisiting the same nightmares you’ve been having for two years now. But perhaps this time you would allow it to come. You would not fight it.

Really, fighting was the last thing you wanted to do at that moment.

“You’re back.”

You turned your head to find Jake entering the room, rolling toward the beds himself. You gave a tired smile in return, “I’m back.”

Jake tilted his head, eyes narrowing, “Have you been crying?”

There wasn’t a point to lying but there also wasn’t any point in admitting he was right either. Instead, you buried your face into your pillow and mumbled out a “Maybe.”

For a while, the two of you didn’t say anything. You heard him roll up next to your bed but you refused to look at him, knowing that if you did you’d probably cry all over again. Crying in front of him was the last thing you wanted to do, especially when you didn’t know where you stood with him right now.

Was he on your side? Was he still working with Quaritch? You thought you knew the answer before. But now…

A larger hand came to rest on the side of your head, surprising you so much you allowed yourself to look up from your pillow to meet Jake’s eyes. And see his face contorted into what looked like anger.

His hand was warm and his thumb gently wiped at the corners of your eye before caressing the side of your cheek. And then he spoke in a lowered voice.

“Next time, I talk to him.” You furrow your brows. His thumb gently rubbed around your cheek. “Alright? I go, not you.”

You wanted to ask him then and there.

Who’s side are you on? And should I trust you?

But you trusted Grace. And she believed he was changing.

So, you have to believe it too.

You weaved your fingers with the hand resting against your cheek and closed your eyes, “I can take care of myself, you know.”

He chuckled, his cool breath fanning against your eyelashes as he did. You hadn’t realized he was that close until now. “Believe me, I know. But I got myself involved with him. It’s my job to handle Quaritch. That includes keeping you away from him.”

Now it was your turn to chuckle, “Since when do you care what Quaritch does to me?”

There was pause before you heard him utter quietly, barely audible.

“He made you cry.”

You kept your eyes closed and your hand on his. If you were to move, this moment would be gone. Possibly never come back, never addressed again.

Right now you wouldn’t think about that. All you focused on was the now.

Just as you were slowly dozing off, Jake spoke, “Tomorrow Grace’s taking her avatar out to the village.”

“Mmm.”

“You should come.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “I haven’t used mine in a while. M’could be too rusty.”

You heard him laugh softly, “I can show you the basics. I’m sure you’re probably better at navigating it than me….”

Jake stopped when he noticed the way your breaths slowed down in a steady pace and how your eyes were now fluttering close with your grip on his hand loosening.

Smiling softly, he carefully took his hand away from your face and instead pulled the blanket over your body.

He sighed while looking at your sleeping form.

“What are you doing to me, Doc?”

taglist: @luvvfromme @sully-stick-together @dazedshoon @jakesullylvr @s-u-t @ssc7514 @cheari@tojigirl @nyotamalfoy @perfectprofessorloverapricot @erenjaegerwifee

#to you worlds away #avatar way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar 2 #avatar jake sully x reader #avatar jake sully #jake sully #avatar jake #jake sully x reader #avatar 2022 #avatar the way of water #atwow #miles quaritch #grace augustine #black!reader

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witchthewriter · 1 year

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐚𝐱 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: some swears, gun ownership, mentions of violence, death of a parent

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿ENTP 🍁Gryffindor (in Season 7 you could say he’s a Slytherin) 📜Chaotic Good 🔮Leo Sun, Gemini Moon, Aries Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・A strong man needs a strong woman, and you’re someone who cannot be told what to do, how to dress, how to act or what decisions to make.

・I think you would have been brought into the club because your father was somehow involved. Historical ties to the SAMCRO legacy

・And instead of moving around, you stayed in Charming. Maybe you were in your late teens.

・Whether you went to university or not doesn’t matter, the fact is you stayed in Charming - or close to home

・Because you had younger siblings, who you were very very close to. And your father was now your only parent.

・Since the death of your mother, you grew even closer to Gemma

・You were always close to her. But then you saw her as a mother figure, and so did your siblings

・This put you in constant contact with Jax, who always seemed like his attention was on the club. But you never realised his eyes were constantly wandering to wherever you were

・You were always in his mind, either with adoration or with irritation

・Because you weren’t the easiest person to get along with

・But your strength was admirable. Yes, you cracked, you yelled and broke down. But you always made sure your siblings were fed, dressed and went to school on time.

・Often they were picked up by guys from the club, particularly Bobby or Tig

・That’s how important you, your father and your family were to the club

・Gemma actually urged Jax to make a move. She wanted you officially a part of her family so badly.

・You’re one of the only people who has seen Gemma in a vulnerable state, and it means a lot to her. You’re the daughter she always wanted but never had

・Jax has never been afraid of a gun in his face. In fact, it’s pretty standard for him to walk into the line of fire. But if you’re ever in a dangerous situation, he’s scared shitless

・You know Jax would do anything for you, he’d even die for you.

・And you would do the same for him. But it’s easy saying you would die for someone - death is quick and easy. Living for someone ... that’s a lot harder

・There’d be a rift with Jax wanting to leave the club, because you ... want to stay.

・This would create a new dynamic in the club; Jax’s Old Lady encouraging him to take over leadership, to be a new guiding force, rather than leaving the life he’s only known

・Maybe you have ideas of your own that you share with him. In the moment he might shut them down, but over time he thinks about them and ... they work.

・You’re a strong Old Lady, one that doesn’t let anyone walk over her. Ruthless? Yes, you can be. But you’re also good-hearted and caring.

・You often helped Gemma with the charity events, especially with the school - since your siblings as well as yourself, went there.

・So that role was then passed down to you.

・You’re the glue the club needs

・But you’ve never liked Clay. There was something about him that was darker than everyone else

・Good friends with Opie. So good in fact, that he feels like he can talk to you about things. Especially his love life. There’s been a few deep conversations where he’s talked to you about missing Donna

・You help out with some of the other guys’ kids when you aren’t working. There are a lot of playdates and sleepovers while the guys are on runs

・Having a personal gun - you go to the gun range and Jax teaches you how to shoot. You pick out your own gun as well

・Turns out you’re a pretty damn good shot

・You’re very close with Chibs too, and laugh together a lot. He’s a great man who has a lot of light-heartedness

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖: Doll, Doll-Face, Honey, Love, Darling. He isn’t afraid of saying these in front of others either.

𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆: Acts of Service and Physical Touch.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

House of the Rising Sun by the White Buffalo

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

・You Fell First, He Fell Harder

・”I care about you!” x “You shouldn’t!”

・Belated Love Epiphany

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

Rebel Prince Meets His Match

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞minors dni!

・Jax is a switch, but he loves to be dominating. Call him ‘sir’ and he’s hard, ready to go.

・Well, he thought he would always be the dominating one. But then he realised just how much he adored being dominated

・He loves it when you grab onto his hair and pull his head back, slamming your lips to his. He loves passion. Vigor. Desperation.

・Jax also adores sloppy head - your mouth over his cock, reaching the back of your throat. He loves making you gag

・His favourite place to have sex is the kitchen. Especially the kitchen table. With you lying face down, pants around her ankles

・He loves to cum inside you, the breeding kink is heavy with this guy

・Sex with Jax is very fun and there’s a lot of humour involved. A lot of laughing and light-heartedness. But on the flip side, it can be very steamy - heated and fast-paced.

・You’ve had a lot of sex after heated arguments. Clothes ripped off and both of you on the floor, panting and grinding against one another

・He loves when you kiss him on the neck, and wrap your arms around him

・You guys shower together a lot. Not all of it is sex, but it’s a small way to have intimacy and feel close without deviating from your schedules

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller headcanons #jax teller x female reader #female reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy headcanon #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy reader insert #SoA #SoA headcanons #witchthewriter

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astranauticus · 5 months

Text

stultifera navis rerun AKA thinking about Iberia hours again because a lot of the Iberians have such fascinating relationships with the concept of home but specifically Thorns and Lumen are eating at my brain. like where do you call home when the place that is your home Just Fucking Hates You? Elysium's rewinding breeze specifically makes a point to hammers home how differently Iberia treats its Liberi and its Aegir

(which is especially interesting since this comes right after a conversation where Purestream commented on how despite Leizi being a high ranking government official, there are still some experiences that are universal for all Yanese people - because the experience of what Iberia itself is like isnt universal for all Iberians)

But all that being said, Thorns also straight up states that Aegir is not his home, and yeah, how could it be? How could a place you've never been to, never truly known, ever be your home? How could it ever feel like a home?

so where do you go when the place that you are from hates your people and the place your people are from is completely unfamiliar and alien to you? Thorns' answer at the end of the conversation with Aya is: my home is where i chose it to be. my home is where there are people I care about and people who care about me

in the complete opposite direction, Lumen's oprec asks: why do you still stay in a place that wants you gone? because the people of Gran Faro like Jordi well enough but when push comes to shove, they will want the only Aegir in town gone

and yet, when Rald the messenger offers him a chance to leave Jordi turns him down and when he's forced to escape Gran Faro after the people there literally try to send him to his death (or worse) at the hands of the Inquisitors he keeps trying to go back because like everyone in stultifera navis, Jordi is clinging to his own dreams of a golden age

but the shape of that dream is unique to every character and for Jordi, his dreams are deeply, inseparably bound to the Eye of Iberia, the legacy his parents left behind

and it's this dream of becoming someone great, of bringing about that golden age that his parents devoted their lives to help create that ties Jordi to this nothing town because despite everything, despite the mistrust of the townsfolk and the hostility of the Inquisition and the danger from the ocean, he simply cannot leave it behind

(or, because i personally dislike the official translation,)

"I just see this place as my home"

so yeah. not sure what overall point i was trying to make here i'm just. deeply in love with these stories about chosing what is and isn't your home, of saying you will not call a place your home because it has given you no reason to or saying you consider a place your home even though it has given you every reason not to. deeply unwell about them <3

#arknights #asto speaks #not much of an essay writer i just keep thinking about them and i need to force other people to think about them too #thorns story fucks me up bc like. this whole almost found family adjacent idea of like #maybe home isnt something decided by your birth but something you can chose based on what truly matters to you #it just gets to me. i guess.#jordi gets to me in a completely different direction there's nothing personal about it i just find his story *fascinating*#just a guy. a completely normal guy. an absolute nobody caught up in these dreams of greatness while also fully aware of his own normalcy #but never letting either of those overshadow the other. never losing that self awareness or that fuckin obsessive determination #god. what a Character #i love jordi so much like genuinely #i joke a lot about him being just a Guy but thats also kinda like the best thing about him #the fact that he is the way that he is and does all the things he does despite being just a Guy #gently holds #for context i was so hyped about new iberia lore when sn was announced i read the whole thing as soon as it dropped on cn server #cuz someone uploaded all the story sections to bilibili right after it came out #and '我只是把这里当作自己的故乡啊' fucking hit me SO HARD #in like the greater context of elysium demanding to know why hes risking his life in like 5 different ways to return to gran faro #because yeah jordi just doesnt want to leave his home but like we the audience knows the full *weight* of what that home means to him #and the weight of the dreams that made him chose to see Gran Faro as his home and to refuse to let go of that #thats why i like the original a lot more than the translation i think like it really emphasises that active *choice*.#this is the place jordi has *decided* to see as his home and he knows what that means and what it means to him #side note the part on thorns might not actually age well depending on whether hg decides to ever release more aulus lore #i mean i'll gladly take the L if it means more aulus and/or thorns lore like #i just wanna know what (if anything) is tying him to iberia yknow #ak #iberiaposting

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 10 months

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As a African American I always ponder why Asians are often so successful in America. A lot of these people or their parents escaped horrific conditions from their former countries. I recall one Indian saying that her father was taught to hide his religion items in public as a child so he wouldn’t get beaten to death. That some early middle age persecution shit right there. But I realize why.

Most Asians aren’t raised on self pity, learn helpless, and victim complex.

In my community, people love to cling onto slavery, Jim Crow laws, etc to our bad situation. Yeah the government did/ still do terrible shit to black Americans (fuck the FBI) but let not ignore the anti intellectual elephant in the room.

Yes Asians have their own set of issues. But I realize most wasn’t raised on the “Oh woe is me!” mindset so they often break the narrative that minorities can’t succeed with the system treating us like mentally challenged kids.

Yep, pretty much this. Many Asian cultures are, sometimes detrimentally, extremely focused on working hard, excelling, and not bringing shame on yourself or your family. Black American culture is...not, sadly. No one wants to say it, but nothing is going to improve for American blacks, especially urban American blacks, until they have a massive culture shift. And to be fair, it's not all their fault. There has been a systemic attack on the black family from multiple sides since the 60s, from within and without. Somewhere along the way they were convinced that the values blacks and whites used to share--family, hard work, pride in accomplishments, etc--were "white people" things and not for blacks. And that couldn't be further from the truth.

Every single person who thinks that they can't succeed because of the color of their skin is just as capable of success and improving their lives as any white person. I'm not special because of my skin. My advantages in life came because my parents, who both grew up dirt poor in abusive families, btw, worked hard and improved their situations so that I'd have a better launching point than they did. Fuck, that used to be the American Dream. Giving your kids a better life than the one you had. Now, that's called privilege and it's something dirty. Kids are seen as a burden instead of a legacy. Family is seen as a crutch instead of the whole point. Society is fucking ass backwards when it comes to values. And sadly some groups of people have lost more of those values than maybe some other groups have. The solution isn't--is never, can never be--to tear down the ones who did the right thing and succeeded. The solution is to follow their example.

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keepingeahalive · 1 year

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Darling Charming Headcanons:

Her full name is Princess Darling Dainty Demure Charming.

Darling found out she was attracted to women on Legacy Day when Raven refused to sign the Storybook of Legends.

She has had a crush on Raven and Apple at different points in time.

She wears frills and lace to hide her muscles.

Her fascination with Wonderland and knights were both sparked by reading the poem “Jabberwocky”.

She and Apple have known each other since they were little, but Apple was always paired off with Daring because of their “destiny”. Darling only got to know Apple when they entered high school.

When outside of the White Knight’s armor, she uses her hair-swooshing magic touch for combat. While her enemy is charmed into slow motion, she can take them down without them knowing what hit them.

Unlike most princesses, she can’t and will not sing. However, she can whistle up a symphony.

She can play the harpsichord and the harp.

Darling is tiny. She’s not as short as Maddie, but she’s shorter than Apple.

She once painted her family’s entire white rose garden red. No one ever found out it was her.

She can speak fluent Riddlish.

She resents her parents immensely for locking her in a tower. While they were trying to keep her away from the relentless flock of boys fawning over her, she felt like she was being punished for being a victim.

She has trouble making attachments. With boys, she never knows if they’re truly interested in getting to know her or if they simply want to woo her. With girls, she’s afraid of getting too attached lest they reject her. Either way, she can’t be herself around people and they end up loving a shadow. For a while, the only person she truly connected with was Dexter.

She gets bored extremely easily.

When she was locked in her tower, she would exercise constantly to prepare for her escape. If she heard someone coming up to check on her, she would pretend to cry to hide the sweat on her face.

She’s a horse girl.

Like her brother Daring, she loves kids and is very good with them. She is especially close with her little cousin Good-Enough because she sees herself and Dexter in him.

She can see herself having a family, but the thought of settling down and retiring from adventuring scares her.

She has debated telling Rosabella about her adventures as the White Knight several times. Rosabella has known for a while, after finding some armor in Darling’s closet, but she decided to wait until Darling was ready to tell her herself.

She has some unresolved anger issues. She’s been forced to hold back and bottle up her emotions for years. If she didn’t have the White Knight as an outlet, she would have snapped years ago.

The day she was released from the tower was her planned escape day.

Darling will only slay a dragon as a last resort. She would rather make it back off and relocate it far away from people than have to kill it.

Darling only became interested in Apple after Dragon Games. Before that, she didn’t see Apple as anything more than Daring’s Damsel-in-Distress. But seeing her take charge against the Evil Queen on a dragon made her think there’s more to Apple.

Both Dexter and (surprisingly) Daring are supportive of her being a knight. Daring is only on board because, after her kiss with Apple, he believes it’s her destiny. She takes what she can get.

In the future, she hopes to officially receive a knighthood both in Ever After and Wonderland.

#ever after high #eah #ever after high headcanons #eah headcanons #darling charming #eah darling #charming siblings

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cursedonyx · 8 months

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Hello, sorry to bother you, but I've had a little brainrot idea for hogwarts legacy for a hot minute, but I don't have the time to sit down and write it. The idea is that mc has a baby or toddler little sibling (male or female), and since they're both orphans, mc has to raise their siblings while in hogwarts and dealing with all the events of the game. And then the absolutely shocked faces and storylines of the people around them seeing mc beat goblins with a baby strapped to their back. Sorry if it's unrealistic, but I had to raise my neice and nephew practically by myself at 15 so I would love to see it happen in game.

Hi, what an interesting concept! I decided to do this Reactions style as it seemed it would be easier to fit in all the characters I could think of – hope you like it!

Asks are open ~ send me anything ✨

Sebastian Sallow: It was certainly a shock to see the new student march through the Great Hall later than everyone else, the rumours already circling about their arrival. Even more surprising was the fact that this fifth-year had a… a baby of all things strapped to their back! Was it theirs? Were they a teenage parent? Was it a cousin, a sibling, or some waif they’d picked up along the way?

Sebastian learns quickly enough the new student’s baby is in fact their sibling, and is always with them. Even in class. And when Professor Hecat suggests they duel, MC doesn’t even think about unstrapping the infant from their shoulders, despite Hecat’s protestations. He’d go easy on them, for the sake of the baby.

That was his mistake. MC proved to be a formidable opponent, kicking his arse seven ways to Sunday without even breaking a sweat as the baby watched curiously from over their shoulder and the rest of the class cheered them on. And as the weeks and months went by, the baby joined them in their adventures, merely shrieking with glee as MC dived and rolled out of the way of goblin attacks and clapping their hands as MC torched inferi, as if it was all some sort of game. Sebastian made sure to be extra careful in protecting MC, for the baby’s sake. Just the baby. Of course it was. It had nothing to do with the fact he admired MC more than perhaps even his own parents.

Ominis Gaunt: Ominis has never liked children, especially babies. They’re noisy, smelly, sticky, and he’s convinced if he holds one, it’ll throw up on him. It takes him a moment or ten to warm up to MC and even longer to warm up to MC’s baby, especially when he catches both of them coming out of the Undercroft, smelling like Confringo. Even so, he reins in his temper as he scolds MC, not wanting to upset the baby and cause a ruckus at this time of night. He can’t help but be concerned for the little one as MC accepts their tongue-lashing with humility and skulks away. Casting Confringo around a child surely isn’t a good idea.

His concern grows when he’s foraging for ingredients along the edge of the Forbidden Forest one day and hears MC and the baby go into the Forest itself, whistling happily as the baby burbles on their shoulders. He follows, wondering if they know how dangerous it is and planning to keep them safe from a distance when a spider attacks. MC dispatches it with ease before he can even aim his wand. He rushes over, intending to scold them again, only to find MC nonchalantly passing the baby a severed spider leg to play with. The baby promptly hits Ominis about the head with it and screams with laughter.

He smiles, and begins to spend more time with the toughest pair of people he thinks he’s ever met.

Garreth Weasley – Potions class is where he has the most fun, even though his experiments tend to cause fires, explosions, extra limbs and the occasional change of hair colour, all of which result in detention. That was until MC showed up to class with their sibling in tow, the little mite grasping handfuls of their hair as they brewed their potions. Damn it all, he’d really wanted to try adding doxy eggs to his brew to see what happened. He couldn’t do that with a baby in the classroom. He didn’t mind singeing his fellow students, that was the risk they all took as wizards and witches around such volatile concoctions, and if he was going to be the best potioneer the world had ever seen, well…

But he couldn’t risk hurting a baby. He loved babies. They were cute and fat with pudgy tummies and made adorable little faces with their great big eyes and drooling mouths, fascinated by everything around them.

So Garreth started behaving. He saved his experiments for outside the classroom, and though it occasionally still landed him in detention, it certainly granted him more free time, and he began to appreciate the finer rules of potion-making, leading his experiments to become more successful as time went by. He changed his cauldron station to one next to MC once Sharp determined he wouldn’t be a health hazard, and got to know them both a little better. He was stunned by all MC had been through, raising such a precious little bean all by themselves. Every time they shared a class, he had a cake or two to share, a bit of homework he’d already written for them, offering to go to Hogsmeade on their behalf to get anything they needed. Maybe one day, if MC was willing, he could be another parental figure in this cute little thing’s life. He’d always wanted a big, happy family.

Leander Prewett – There’s not much Leander really understands, though he tries very hard to pretend otherwise. One of the big things he just doesn’t get are babies. He’s never been around them, and after noticing MC has their baby with them all the time, he’s not overly keen on getting too involved and doing or saying something stupid that would make him look like an idiot.

But one day, the baby has been grizzling all day long, with MC walking them up and down all through the castle, trying to settle them, but the baby’s just not having it. He spots them coming out of the main doors to where he’s trying to get a little flying practice in, and they seem to be making a beeline for him. Merlin, if there was ever a time for someone to grace him with flight skills, it was now. He attempts to kick off from the ground and merely ends up turning head over heels four or five times before tumbling to the ground with a yelp.

Wincing, he looks up, expecting people to be laughing at him. Someone certainly is, the high-pitched, free laughter soaring over their heads. Glowering a little, he stands up and tries to preserve a little of his dignity, turning to see MC beside him, bouncing the baby in their arms. The baby is no longer grizzling, but is laughing helplessly, waving its fat little fists in glee.

MC thanks him earnestly for making her little sibling laugh, and offers to buy him a butterbeer for his trouble. On the way, Leander makes sure whenever the little one looks like it might start crying to take a pratfall or walk into a low-hanging tree branch, grinning as each time makes the baby scream with laughter.

As they talk, he learns about all MC has gone through, and his admiration for them goes through the roof. He makes sure to seek them out daily to fall down the stairs or do a silly dance to get the baby laughing. It makes MC laugh too, and he loves the way they smile when he does it.

Amit Thakkar – Amit steals up to the astronomy tower one evening to get in an extra few hours of stargazing, hoping his diligence to the subject will ingratiate him with the notoriously cold Professor Shah. But when he gets there, he sees MC leaning on the railing, dandling their sibling on their hip, pointing up at the celestial heavens and murmuring some twee nonsense about the twinkly dots. He goes quietly to his telescope, trying not to disturb them, when he overhears MC talk about the stars being the souls of those departed, and how ‘mummy and daddy are up there.’

It just about breaks his heart. He’d read about tragedy, of course, it was a staple in many of his adventure books, but learning that one of his fellow students had suffered something that made him cry when he read about made-up people enduring it, well. He leaves his telescope and moves over, leaning on the railing as well and speaking in a soft voice about the cosmos, pointing out the stars and naming them until MC lays a hand on his arm.

The baby has gone to sleep, soothed by his voice. MC thanks him, telling him the baby has been having trouble sleeping since their parents died, they both have, in fact. The baby stirs, and Amit pulls out one of his favourite books and a blanket, wrapping them both up in it and settling down nearby, reading to them both until they fall asleep.

It becomes a regular thing, and Amit smiles every time he looks up from the pages to see them cuddled up together, holding each other and sound asleep. It's nice to feel useful, and he appreciates being able to do some small thing for them when they’ve already been through so much.

Natsai Onai – While initially anxious about asking for MC’s help in dealing with Rookwood and Harlow, Natsai soon learns how capable MC is from her fellow students. When they go to rescue Highwing, Natsai almost begs her to leave their sibling in the castle, but MC refuses. Not only does the baby seem to understand the danger they are in and keeps quiet, but it seems to actually enjoy it when MC Depulso’s an arrogant Ashwinder off the edge of a tower, chuckling heartily. The baby shrieks with joy as they fly on their rescued Hippogriffs, waving their hands in the air as MC and Natsai whoop and cheer. The baby really feels like a member of the team, even though it didn’t actually do anything, sort of like a mascot.

Natsai’s fears for the baby decrease with every adventure and MC proves time and time again they’re not just a hell of a warrior, but a damn good parental figure too. She delights in the quieter moments they share, often begging MC to let her look after the baby to give MC a much deserved break. Though initially reluctant, MC agrees for a few hours one evening, saying they needs to speak with Sebastian and Ominis. They return, looking a little tired and somewhat stressed (can she blame them after hanging out with a Gaunt?), and happily takes the little one back, thanking Natsai for her help. She lets Natty look after the little one more often, and Natsai teaches them both some nursery rhymes from Matabeleland.

Poppy Sweeting – To Poppy, MC having a baby is no skin off her nose. It's almost like having a pet that’s going to be able to talk one day and clean up its own poop. Bonus! But right now, like all baby beasts, this one is adorable and she takes every moment she can to spend time with MC and their sibling, fussing over them both and insisting she cuts up their dinner for them, even if they’re in different houses.

When Poppy asks MC for help with the poachers, it’s not a decision she’s made lightly. She knows how vulnerable babies are, even baby dragons, and to bring a baby into a poacher den could signal trouble for everyone. MC insists on their sibling coming with them, and Poppy needs the help. Poppy soon learns she didn’t need to worry, watching MC absolutely decimate the poachers without breaking a sweat, the baby on her shoulders waving their own little hand as if they were casting spells as well, going ‘wheeeeeeee’ when MC rolls out of the way of a hex, and burbling happily when the dragoness stares them down.

Poppy makes a point to introduce MC and the little one to some safer beasts, enjoying a cup of tea with MC as they watch the baby roll around with the Poffle of Puffskeins Professor Howin has in the pens by the Beasts classroom. She makes a point to join Natsai when babysitting.

Professor Sharp – While initially concerned about there being a baby in his class (with Garreth, FFS) he soon learns MC is more than capable of being a responsible carer, and his admiration for them grows as he watches them soldier on with classwork, homework, babywork and, if the rumours are to be believed, their rather dangerous extra-curriculars. He makes sure to slip some Soothing Solution into MC’s bag for those difficult nights, and lets the baby chew on his auror badge the few times MC lands detention with him. He won’t give them any leeway to be a cheeky little shit in his classes, baby or no. Besides, it’s nice to watch them grow up.

Professor Garlick – She’s alarmed when MC marches into her class, baby in tow, worried the baby will be eaten by a venomous tentacula or Chinese chomping cabbage, but her concern vanishes when MC proves to have the awareness of five highly-caffeinated people, keeping the baby safe during her classes. She offers to help where she can, and MC gratefully accepts dummies with essence of dittany on them to soothe the baby’s teething.

Professor Black – Most people are convinced he doesn’t even know what a baby is, despite the fact he’s got five children. He’s aloof most of the time, barely paying anyone any attention, least of all MC and the baby. But after a particularly trying day when the baby just wouldn’t settle, MC watches with apprehension as Black strides towards them, scowling. Expecting a scolding (and a detention for the attitude they prepare to give back in return) MC is surprised when Black holds out a tiny plush doll in the shape of a kneazle without a word, then stalks off like he didn’t just give their sibling a teddy.

Professor Fig – Having seen all MC can do, even with a baby on their back at all times, he can’t help but admire them, though he desperately wishes they didn’t have to do so much alone. As such, he takes on the role of not just mentor, but father and grandfather figure to the pair. When things get too tough, he happily encourages MC to take a nap in his office, rocking the baby to sleep as MC snoozes on the sofa, cooking for the three of them and making sure to help MC with their homework. Towards the middle of the year, MC bursts into his office, holding the little one aloft.

“Say it again, baby!” MC cries.

The baby grins, chewing its own pudgy fist. Around a mouthful of their own hand, they speak their first word.

“Fig,” they say.

It’s the proudest moment of his life.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley #leander prewett #natsai onai #amit thakkar #poppy sweeting #professor sharp #professor garlick #professor fig #professor black #hl reactions

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