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wheels-of-despair · 6 months

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Enough | A Make Up Story | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist

Chapter 3: The Emptiest of Threats Words: 2k

You woke before Tom did the next morning.

Well, gave up on trying to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw her. And the redhead. Tom tossed and turned most of the night, but his snores indicated that at least one of you got a little sleep.

You crept out of bed and to the tiny bathroom, trying to avoid catching your own bloodshot eyes in the mirror, then wandered into the kitchen. With a glance toward the sleeping stranger you'd just shared a bed with, you begin pulling out the necessary ingredients for a Virgin Mary. Jade had drank herself into many a stupor, and claimed this was the only cure.

After making sure you didn't sleep alone in your car, entertaining you with banter and making you dinner, easing Tom's self-inflicted suffering was surely the least you could do. Once the drink was mixed, you stuck it in the fridge and waited for him to wake up.

You sat at the kitchen table and stared blankly out the window. Maybe this was exactly what you needed: To see that Jade would never belong to you. No matter how much you loved her, or how desperate you were to make her love you back… she was still Jade. She would never be satisfied just… being. She always needed to try something new, or go somewhere she'd never been before, or be with someone different. She would always get bored with you after a week or two.

You could tell yourself these things all day long, but that didn't make them hurt any less.

And poor Tom. Been with his girl for three years, he'd said, and she was under Jade's spell in a week. You couldn't blame the girl; it had happened to you too. There was something mystical about Jade, and you didn't think you'd ever understand it.

A groan from the bedroom interrupts your miserable thoughts. You turn your head and fight back a smile when you see him clutching his head with both hands. Time to let the Virgin Mary do the Lord's work.

You shake two aspirin from the fresh bottle you'd bought just for her into your hand and fetch the cup from the tiny fridge, padding quietly toward him. You fight your instinct to sit on the edge of the bed; it's how you delivered Jade her morning mix.

"Here," you offer, leaning over to offer him the cup from a safe distance. He unscrunches one eye.

"Wha's that?"

"Aspirin and a Virgin Mary."

"Don't want it."

"It'll make you feel better."

"Don't wanna feel better."

"Well I want you to, and since I could totally take you right now, you better sit up and drink this damn thing before I make you."

To your surprise, he listens. It was the emptiest of threats. He sits up, holds out his hands, and accepts your offerings. He pops the pills in his mouth, chugs the drink, and finishes with a dramatic gag. If you weren't so emotionally drained, you'd probably laugh at him.

"Go get cleaned up, I'll make you breakfast."

He mumbles something - the only thing you can make out is the word "bossy" - but he does get up and stumble his way toward the bathroom.

It's nearly lunchtime, so you have a repeat of last night's late dinner waiting for him when he comes back out. A few wet curls cling to his forehead from where he'd splashed water on his face. He sits across from you, and you share a silent meal. When you finish, neither of you moves to get up.

"What will you do now?" he asks.

"Go home, I guess," you shrug. "What about you?"

He sighs and looks down at his hands. "Dunno. Don't really wanna quit my job to avoid her, but like… if I have to see them together every day, I'm gonna have to go drown myself."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asks, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"You know what." You mirror his position. A staring contest ensues, and he finally concedes by standing.

"You ready to go rescue your car?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon."

You grab your bag and walk to the door. He gestures to the grocery bag on the counter.

"Eat it, toss it, I don't care." Like you'd ever be able to eat any of her favorite things again. You step outside into the sunshine, ready to try leaving this place behind… again.

Tom follows you out the door. You walk side by side down the path toward the office, eyes constantly scanning around you, watching for them.

Miraculously, you make it to the office unnoticed, Tom grabs the keys, and you hop into the little truck without having to speak to anyone. The ride to your car is silent. You just want this to be over with. You'll probably even welcome the dazzling mediocrity of home after this ordeal.

"Can I help?" you ask when Tom stops behind your car.

"Nah, sit tight, I got it." He gets out and pulls a chain off the back of the truck, walks toward your car, and ducks out of sight. A minute later, he's back in the truck. He puts it in reverse and revs it, and although your little monster puts up a fight, it eventually gives in and pops back up out of the ditch and onto the road.

"Thank you," you tell Tom, genuinely grateful for everything he's done for you in the last 12 hours.

"Don't worry about it," he grins. He gets out to walk you to your car… where a dark trail of liquid leads from the front end to the piece of metal still in the ditch.

"Fuck me," you groan.

Tom blows his cheeks full of air and lets it out slowly. "Yeah, that's not good."

"You don't say," you deadpan.

"Calm down, I know a guy."

"A guy who works on weekends?" He scrunches his nose in a wince.

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a long and exasperated breath until you hear the squealing brakes of an approaching car.

"Hey, mate!" Tom calls to the slowing vehicle. You stand awkwardly next to your car while he talks to the driver - a bearded twenty-something - and force a tense smile when he looks over at you. The guy pulls away a minute later, and Tom returns to your side with a smile.

"That's Kyle. He works with me. He's gonna call the auto shop for us and find out if someone can come get it today. If he can't reach anybody, he'll ask Kai to come help."

Great. Asking for help from Kai, the glare-y one. You close your eyes, lean your head back, and extend your arms.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"Waiting for a lightning strike to finish me off," you explain. "Right here, God! Let's just get this over with!"

Tom chuckles. "Come on, you're alright." He lightly slaps your open palm to get your attention, and you look at him with cynical eyes. He tilts his head toward the other side of the road and begins walking across. With a sigh of defeat, you follow him, climb the small rise, and sit next to him in the grass.

"You don't have to stay with me," you tell him quietly, absentmindedly playing with a fray on your jeans. "I'm sure you have better things to do. I'll wait for the guy, get him to take me into town, ride out the rest of my vacation in the cheapest motel I can find. Hopefully the junk bucket gets glued back together before I'm expected back at work."

"What do you do?"

"On paper, I'm an office aide. Which is workplace jargon for 'we're too cheap to hire separate secretaries, so you get to take orders from everyone'."

"You like it?"

"Nope."

"Why do you do it if you don't like it?"

"Does anybody actually like their job?"

"I do," he shrugs. "I know it's not like… what most people dream of. But I like it. I like fixing things. Stuff where you can see results. Give people a home away from home. And the hours are nice. I can take off to go surfing sometimes."

You smile at the almost dazed look on his face.

"My parents think I'm mad," he continues. "Should've worked harder in school, gone to uni, become something respectable they can brag about. But I like it here. Been coming here since I was a kid. Used to pitch a fit when it was time to leave. Wanted to stay here forever. That's why I asked Ru…"

Tom's face hardens. After a moment of unbearable silence, you can't help yourself.

"I think it's nice to know what you want. I envy you for that."

"You never wanted anything?" He picks a blade of grass and twists it in his fingers.

"All I ever wanted was Jade." It comes out so quietly, you think the wind may have blown it away.

Tom heaves a sigh and looks at you. "We're fuckin' pathetic, aren't we?"

You burst out laughing at the same time.

You spent the next hour talking nonstop about everything and nothing as you waited for help to arrive.

Tom was a great guy. He was smart, and funny, and without him, you would've spent this time spiraling further into your pit of despair. The discussion flowed easily from one topic to the next, not another awkward silence in sight. You suspected he was trying to keep himself from thinking about a certain someone as well, but you were grateful for the conversation and the company nonetheless.

You were wiping away tears of laughter and holding your aching sides over a story about his very first surfing lesson when the tow truck puttered to a stop in front of you.

The guy - Doug, he'd grunted when you introduced yourself - had your car hooked up and ready to go in minutes. You pick your bag up and turn to Tom.

"Well, Tom… whenever I think of the worst day of my life, I'll always think of you."

He grins.

"Really, though. Thank you for everything. It was nice to not be alone through… this." You can feel yourself welling up at the thought of the crushing reality you'd soon have to face, and try to blink away the tears. Doug gets back in his truck and slams his door. "I should go." You look at Tom fondly, trying to burn his kind face into your memory. "Bye, Tom." He's really not gonna say anything? Okay, Tom. You take a step toward the truck.

"What if you didn't?" he says in a rush.

You stop in your tracks, then slowly turn back to face him.

"What if I didn't what?"

"Go."

"Kinda have to, Tom." He shakes his head.

"Don't waste your money on a shitty motel. They're still charging summer rates. Stay with me. No charge. I'll take you to get your car when it's ready."

"Tom, you've already done too much for me, I couldn't possibly ask you for more."

"You didn't ask, I offered."

You hesitate.

"Stay," he says. The look in his eyes - almost pleading? - stabs you in the heart like a dagger. Is this what you looked like when you were silently begging Jade to keep you?

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

And after a moment of stunned silence, so do you.

"Thanks, mate," Tom says to Doug. "Just call the office and ask for me, yeah?"

The gruff man in the truck acknowledges the dismissal with a grunt, and drives off with your hunk of junk.

You both stand in the road and watch the truck until it turns a corner and putters out of sight, then turn to face each other.

"Well…" you both begin at the same time, laughing instead of continuing your sentences.

"Back to hell we go?" you joke.

"Guess so," he smiles.

You close your eyes and stick out your arms again. "Okay, God! If you're gonna do it, please do it before I have to pay the mechanic's bill!"

Tom laughs, grabbing your bag and pushing you toward his work truck. "Move it, drama queen."

"You love it," you grin, climbing into the cab.

Tom neither confirms nor denies this as he starts the truck with a smirk and begins the process of turning around.

#writings of despair #tom grant is enough #tom grant #tom grant x you #tom grant x reader

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nellyofthevalley · 5 months

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spawn, ch.3

astarion x fem!tav…

rating: explicit content: NON-CON I'M SO FUCKING SERIOUS FOR THIS CHAPTER, tragedy, violence, lots of cazador, dead dove, probably death at some point, i don’t know it’s a lot, fuck or die summary: cazador uses the one thing astarion cares about to exert control over his favorite spawn in the worst ways.

With her, he would have risen from the dirt and lived again. He swore, a few times, that he felt his heart come to life for a brief moment and he remembers every last one. He thought of them often in the kennels on repeat in his mind, reciting a list of reasons why he had to go on.

chapters: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3

read it on ao3 or below the cut:

A sort of ritualistic gathering developed—every night, Cazador calls Tav, Astarion, and a select few of his spawn to the dining hall, where they sit together at the table as a ‘family’. Most nights, Astarion is left to sit in silence and watch as his master passes Tav from spawn to spawn, to be drank from like a bottle of wine.

Cazador goes so far as to give the spawn praise, tell them what a wonderful reward they’re being given for their behavior, but none are blind to the truth. Cazador never let them drink from thinking creatures before, no matter how well they performed. The favored spawn’s dormitory, sporting a small semblance of privacy, is the sole gift they’ve ever received. The tiefling dinner they’ve all come to indulge in is simply another one of Astarion’s punishments they’re forced to participate in.

The spawn, forbidden from supping of the blood of anything better than bugs and rotten vermin, always bite her wildly and take too much, marring her skin more than Astarion had the night she was taken. Cazador has to compel them to stop, reminding them he still has plans for her and to ‘mind their manners’—though he still allows them to take enough to take enough to render her weak, unable to speak or move at all.

Astarion’s body aches and begs his mind to agree to get up and fight, to break the wooden dining chair and run its leg through his master’s dead heart over and over again; to bathe in his screams, twist the stake and watch his organs curl, and tear his flesh apart until there’s nothing left but viscera.

Most nights, she’d faint before a thrall carries her out to be cared for—this ‘care’ nothing more than an assurance she lives another grueling day of torture. Astarion learned Dalyria had been tasked with seeing to her, and one night in passing, she mentioned that Tav had her own room and hasn’t been by Cazador’s side as he was led to believe. A comfort, albeit small; here, even a short reprieve is a blessing.

Over time, it seemed Cazador had taken a twisted liking to her, directly speaking to her more often and addressing her politely. Empty words when he has his spawn drain her to the edge every evening, but it makes Astarion’s stomach churn.

It's agonizing, being forced to sit at the table in the evenings, so close that he could reach out and touch her—if he were allowed. She looks so empty, so devoid of any emotion, he wishes he could see anything in her. He wishes they had the tadpoles again, threat of ceremorphosis be damned, so they could share in each other’s minds.

The tadpoles were the best thing that ever happened to Astarion, granting him freedom and power, but they were careless. They dragged their feet confronting Cazador and now…

Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. The master wasn’t wrong when he said Astarion didn’t have to be his spawn to be controlled; he proved as much that first night.

Astarion wonders if Cazador’s taught her to be so expressionless, or if the light in her is truly fading. He hates how dependent he’s become, how resolve flits out of his heart as easily as it enters. If her fire’s snuffed out—the last of her hope gone—he fears he won’t be able to hold onto his own anymore.

On the nights Astarion is escorted out first, he almost prefers the ignorance to knowing what happens to her in the dining hall after he’s left.

He thought the dinners were the worst. How wrong he was, he realizes, when Cazador ceases to summon him from the kennels. It is a far bleaker existence in solitude, hungry and oblivious to anything beyond the door.

Thralls no longer come for him. His siblings never come for him. Their friends never come for him.

All he knows is that she must still be alive—Cazador surely would’ve summoned him to watch if he were to kill her. The unknown is terrifying. Many nights, he chooses to live in delusion, repeatedly telling himself she’s okay; shaken, that he couldn’t deny, but not gone.

When Godey comes to discipline him, ‘learning his manners’ is an emphasized lesson, and the skeleton never slips, never says a single word beyond the fucking lesson and his mockeries.

Cazador visited him, too, though the occasions were rare. The master had better things to spend his time on than something as trivial as Astarion’s punishments, even if he is the favorite spawn. Distinct from the favored spawn, the favorite spawn is the most beautiful, most whored, most disdained, and wields the sweetest screams. Many moons ago, before the abduction, he was also the most ill-disciplined. Now, he dutifully plays his part, waiting to see Tav again.

Eventually, these visits also came to an end. Godey no longer prowls and attends to his kennels, an area that has been his, not the master’s, for as long as Astarion can remember. The piece of shit walking bag of bones values his domain, carries a sense of pride and ownership over it; the fact that he no longer makes his rounds is terribly unsettling.

After a few weeks that felt like months of isolation, a mortal servant arrives to deliver a rather lavish, white-and-gold outfit and written orders from Cazador: ‘Dress up. Mind your manners. Wait to be escorted.’ Painfully brief and unenlightening. Not unexpected. The master had never been eloquent in the art of written words.

Astarion, wrought with hunger, fights the urge to drink the servant dry, persevering only due to his conviction to see Tav again. He can’t fuck this up. He can’t agitate Cazador. He wonders if he’ll see her tonight—if Cazador’s planned a ball, a feast, or some other sort of gathering perhaps—and will she be dressed up, too?

Dress up. Mind my manners. Wait for my escort.

Mortals who know Cazador’s true nature come to his gatherings expecting to leave with the gift of eternal life. Few are granted eternal life. It’s never a gift, and no one ever leaves.

If Astarion were blissfully unaware to the party’s farce—only a mask for the true feast to be had by beasts and monsters alike—it might be a refreshing sight, with people dancing, talking, and drinking, filling the ballroom to the brim. He nearly envies them; at least their deaths won’t be prolonged across centuries.

He was given no instruction or tasks beyond putting on a pretty face, and upon arrival looks over the crowd to the front, searching for Tav. She sits in a new chair besides Cazador’s empty one, wearing an elegant, flowing blood-red dress the master must’ve chosen for her. No doubt meant to match with his own aristocratic, gaudy attire; a black, tailored velvet coat with red-and-gold embroidery, silken shirt, slim trousers and shiny leather boots.

An image of royalty to the ignorant—the idiots that ask for the gift of eternity. Vampiric king and queen, presiding over their lands and peasants. Astarion never saw him with a ‘partner’ before, but tonight, Cazador is flaunting her like she’s his. The chairs, the matching attire, the event… events at the palace are rare and always a carefully calculated move. There’s purpose.

They’re feasts, but they’re never just feasts.

Tav looks different up there, dolled up in a gothic look she’d never choose for herself, with her hair in a styled updo and at the master’s side. Almost like she’s been transformed into another person altogether, with a mere few distinguishing features left to recognize her by.

It’s wrong, she’s all wrong; he doesn’t see her amber eyes staring back, and he fucking knows why and refuses to believe. Not until he can see it. Astarion weaves through guests, moving up closer to get a better look at her and he sees something that pesters him so ruthlessly, something that threatens to tear down every drop of willpower and self-discipline he’d managed to gather since their imprisonment.

Fresh puncture wounds on her neck.

Red eyes, and the clear hunger behind them. The very same look he wore when he was turned and when he was denied even rats.

It’s a brutal reminder of what he’s known for a very long time: that their efforts had been in vain, a complete waste of time for a world that wasn’t worth saving; that the Gods of this foul place and every inhabitant deserve to drown along with it.

Before she came along and won him over with her honeyed words, he had it beaten into him over two hundred years that this realm is a horrible, vile place to spend a minute on, nor a single lifetime, and certainly not for eternity.

‘The world can be a wonderful, kind place, Astarion, when you find a home in it,’ she said.

She said a lot of stupid things, and he protested against nearly every single one of them, but she was stubborn. Persistent. She did the impossible and made him believe they would find their home in it and experience this wonderful, kind place. He’d been a thoughtless, love-addled twit that thrived on her energy, eventually coming to crave it.

Astarion didn’t want it and he refused it at every turn. He scoffed at her generosity, doubted her graciousness, and chastised her when she dared to challenge him. He waited on her every word, though never without comment, and in time, he started to welcome the infection of her sweet, kind heart.

In his confinement, after the dinners and the visits stopped, Astarion had dreamt many times of the end. No more pain, no more sorrow, no more torture.

True death is a fantasy within the walls of this palace.

Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes of obliteration, he’s still all but given up on hope. He hopes she’ll kiss him again, laugh with him, or so much as flash a half-smile his way. He would do anything for it. He would do even more to set her free.

Much as he fought it, she brought an irreplaceable light to the gloom in the soul he thought he’d lost.

When Cazador’s voice rings through the room, it’s as if he’s drifted off and he’s watching something else control his form, an empty husk obeying and moving aside as his master commands. The whole crowd splits, creating space in the center, and only a minute later they’re applauding and awing at what’s on display. Their laughs and claps are utterly revolting, it’s like hearing the master’s taunts on repeat—like every guest is mocking him and berating him, and it echoes through the palace.

Astarion looks through his own eyes again, and he wishes he hadn’t.

In another lifetime, it would be them dancing on the ballroom floor. Astarion, the Ascendant, and his lover, dressed in the same blue-and-gold scheme. He’s always thought blue suits her well, not red, and not moving along with Cazador with his palm on her back and her hand in his, twirling her around like a doll to be shown off. It’s a spectacle, a well-crafted show designed to destroy his most prized spawn.

It’s atrocious enough to push Astarion to vomit, but he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, he can’t—not with this cold, dead form. He dashes away from the crowd and dry heaves in the corner, over and over until his body can’t handle it anymore and he runs off to the kennels, knowing he’ll regret this later, knowing he has nowhere to go but here.

The place he’d been tortured in for so long, made to scream and cry and beg for mercy, to submit and now it’s all he has to find comfort in. It’s a disgrace. It’s fucking humiliating.

The first time was when he couldn’t live with the guilt anymore and admitted he’d been manipulating her, trying to win her favor all along by charming her and pleasuring her, and that he’d gone and fucked it up—he finally started to understand that he wanted more from her. Astarion wanted something real, and he didn’t know how to ask nor how to do it, and he was so sure she would yell at him anyway for what he’d done, knowing he’d deserve it but fearing it all the same.

She embraced him instead. He recoiled purely by instinct and she didn’t let him go. He buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes and he felt his heart stir.

Then, when she kissed him under the stars at Wyrm’s Crossing. It wasn’t their first or second kiss, he’d lost count by then, but that one was different. That one made his heart flip as they looked beyond the horizon, processing the months of traveling and fighting and how far it had taken them, the city only a few days away.

And again, when they survived the confrontation with the brain. Death was a certainty, and they came out the other side. After that, he felt they could do anything if they did it together. Even the sun that could kill him so easily felt like little more than a petty burn on his skin while he rode the high of it all. She promised to find him a way to live in the sun again after they killed Cazador.

His heart did more than flip or stir that time, it raced.

Later, Godey comes for him in the kennels and drags him to Cazador’s study. A room he’s never entered before, not in two hundred years; none of the spawn or thralls were allowed in his study. It’s a sign. He’s sure it means their numbered days can be counted on one hand.

He’s shoved in the room and kicked to the floor; Godey’s already left by the time Astarion looks back at the door, and then it’s Cazador jerking him by his hair, throwing him back against the ground.

“You thought to disrespect me, at my party, during my dance?”

“Fuck you,” Astarion retorts. He’s being senseless and rash and he knows it, he knows he should be good, but fuck, with Tav made Cazador’s spawn, what does he have left to fight for? To live for? Why shouldn’t he get himself killed by spitting in his master’s face?

“And here I thought you felt something for her. You seemed to cherish her, didn’t you? And now you’ll throw it all away, just so you can have a meager few seconds of fun, making your jabs at me?” Cazador taunts him, kicking him backwards against the cold floor and stepping on him, shifting his weight to his foot and shoving Astarion’s face into the tile. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always selfish, unable to hold your endless prattle and boasting. The others have always hated you for it.”

Astarion looks down, as if the fight he had simply evaporated—the master perfected the act of preying on his spawn’s worst traits and insecurities, and he was never immune to it, try as he may.

“Look at me, boy,” Cazador orders, compelling him to watch as he lifts his boot and comes back down on Astarion’s chest with a harsh crack on his ribs. “If it was yours to make, what would you have me choose? Would you prefer I carved the runes into her back, as agonizingly as I did to you, and sacrifice her? Or keep her as my pet forever?”

Gods. He can think of nothing worse than an eternity with Cazador, but the thought of Tav enduring the runes, then slaughtered like cattle… he’d rather stay in Cazador’s service for another thousand years than choose. She has so much life left to live, and it’s already been snuffed out, all because she’d been dumb enough to choose him to love.

“She’s already fucking dead,” he says. “You fucking killed her! You took her body, forced red eyes and eternal hunger onto her. You transformed her into a monster. You stole her from me.”

“Stole her—have I misjudged you? Is she simply property to you? Ha!” Cazador laughs and shakes his head, lifting his foot from Astarion’s chest. “You would’ve been smart to see her that way, spawn, I taught you better than to love. But it makes no difference to me, really; whether she’s your lover or your possession, you belong to me. I own you. She was made mine the very moment you set your eyes on her.”

“Fuck you, fuck you!”

“You are nothing and you have nothing. You went on a short vacation with mortals who’ve since forgotten you, and hand-delivered to me the only one foolish enough to show you kindness.”

The door behind creaks open and another body is pushed through the door, onto their knees beside him. Red dress. Red eyes.

Astarion, too livid to consider if he should, crawls over to her and puts his hands on her, lifting her chin to look at him. Her dark makeup is well-executed, giving her the blush of life, and everything about her appearance screams elegance, class, perfection.

No amount of makeup can cover what he sees when she sets her eyes upward on him: a reflection of himself and what he’s done to her, how he’s condemned her to this.

“My love,” he says, an appeal to her, though he feels guilty for hoping she feels something for him still, sure that he’s unworthy of it.

“Astarion, no.”

It stings worse than any blow or cut he’d been given. It’s been weeks, maybe months since he’s heard her say anything except ‘no’, and even his name is spoken with such bitterness. But her palms raise and latch on to his forearms and her eyes shut, like it’s painful to look at him, and it stokes his little spark of hope.

“Please,” he pleads, but for what, he’s not sure.

It’s but a second before Cazador intervenes, pushing Astarion aside.

“Sit. And watch,” he demands.

Astarion sits up with his back to the wall, staring at them with eyes half-open. His master—their master, now—bends his newest spawn over the desk, lifting her pretty red dress up over her back and pulling her underwear to her knees. Cazador pins her against the tabletop, his cock rigid against her cunt, separated only by the petty fabric of his pants.

“I promised I’d teach you. It’s only a shame that you’ll not have the chance to put my instructions to use,” he says, words directed towards Astarion, but eyes set on Tav and unwilling to spare Astarion even a single glance. A waste of the master’s time, as it often is; as his favorite and most hated spawn, Cazador’s interactions with Astarion are limited to the cruelest encounters, those that wrought enough suffering to satisfy the master for the night.

Tav stares at Astarion, and he hates it. With her face pressed against the surface, expression devoid of emotion, and her hands held behind her back by Cazador—a scene perfectly crafted to ruin him.

See what you’ve done to me?

He hears it in her voice.

“Dry,” Cazador notes. “Fix this.”

Of fucking course she’s dry! What did he expect from her, her admiration and attention? To wet her cunt to her slaver? Astarion can’t fathom how she could even fix it—how could anyone get aroused in this situation?—but something in their master’s tone indicates that this isn’t the first time he’s ordered her to do this.

She follows quickly, she has to. She reaches her hand down under her dress. Astarion can’t see beneath the red fabric and he’s thankful for it. Despite the Gods ignoring his every prayer, he still begs them now to stop this, to remove them from this place, scorch the earth if they must. He’ll serve, he’ll sacrifice, he’ll give anything and everything. He’ll give his body, his soul—all of it.

None listen.

Cazador thrusts into her as ruthlessly and awfully as he administered every other punishment. She gasps and scrunches her face, stuffing her true feelings further and further down, being good, being compliant. She’s behaving and putting on a tough face, but it’s so fucking obvious how disciplined and practiced it is.

Rehearsed and refined, like how Astarion honed his skills in the art of seduction over the centuries. Is this what’s being done to her behind closed doors? When the rabid feasts on her blood stopped and Astarion never saw her, even so much as to deliver a punishment, was Cazador raping her and conditioning her to put on a happy face for it?

It’s sick. It’s disgusting. The sounds of his master fucking his lover reverberate in his ears; the ghoulish slap of skin on skin, the repulsive, throaty groans Cazador makes and the distressed, subdued cries coming from his love’s mouth. The noises alone haunt him, and even if he could look away, the memories of when he was first turned and Cazador had his way with him would simply follow.

Astarion would take her place as many times as he had to, if he could, without a second thought. He’d get on his back, his knees, any fucking way he was told to if it meant sparing her from it. He’d pretend to love it. He’d swallow and moan and take it all with a pretty face.

If it would save her, he would endure.

“Tav,” Cazador starts, about to command her, and it’s the first time Astarion’s heard her name said from his repugnant mouth. “My naïve, harebrained spawn over there won’t stop dreaming of taking you for himself again. Re-educate him on the matter of how you came to be a spawn. My spawn.”

“You led me here,” she chokes out between whimpers. “You killed me, Astarion.”

No, no, Astarion thinks, you don’t believe that… you wouldn’t… would you?

He wants to think that she’s only being compelled, that she’d never fault him for it, even if he blames himself. He can’t let go of believing she still cares for him—it’s all he has left.

“He watches you so faithfully, so childishly enthralled by you. Look at him.” Cazador brushes a piece of her hair back to uncover her face and leans closer to her to speak, turning his gaze towards Astarion. “Pretend it’s him inside you, pleasuring you. Imagine his face, his voice, and show us how beautifully you’d purr for him.”

“No, please,” Astarion begs, knowing he’s powerless, knowing his pleas will only satisfy Cazador more, yet he can’t stop them. “Don’t do this.”

Astarion never had the opportunity to lay with her again after the night in the forest. He wanted to—he wanted to so, so badly; he wanted the opportunity to learn how to truly love someone and show his for her as she deserves, but he wasn’t ready for it no matter how much he wished he was.

Whenever Astarion felt he had nothing left to lose, he was proven wrong, time and time again. Cazador commanded him to force himself on her in the ballroom, and now he’s forced to watch as she imagines him behind her. It’s fucking heinous, it’s tragic, it’s despicable.

He was never compelled in this manner, the master was happy to be patient with Astarion, taking his time enjoying beating and torturing him into submission. He wonders what happens when you’re compelled to imagine another lover. Is it Astarion’s face she’ll see when she turns around? Is it Astarion’s voice she’ll hear when Cazador speaks? Or will she still be keenly aware of the nightmare they’re residing in?

It’s her moans that bring him back to the present. Her lovely voice he dreamt of singing for him many times, and now it sings for a vision of him while he watches.

Cazador lets her hands free and hikes her dress further up, leaving nothing out of sight. Astarion tries to turn away, but his body won’t comply—it can’t. He sees Cazador sliding in and out of her and how he roughly grabs her chin with his slimy hand and turns her face towards him. He sees her, his Tav, looking at their master with her half-closed eyes and parted mouth and it makes him feel ill, thinking of how she sees his face laid over Cazador’s.

“Astarion.” She cries his name with a whimper, almost as if she were calling for him to save her.

“No,” he says quietly, to no one but himself, his voice tired of begging and screaming and and it’s futile, anyway; he’s powerless, nothing but a frail, expendable spawn.

“Astarion, please,” she whines in a sweet way, distinct from how she’d said his name only a second ago, like she’s begging him to fuck her. He’d imagined this many times, fantasized of it—he’d been waiting for it for so long—and hearing it now is a fucking torment, a stain on every fantasy; he’ll never be able to push this foul noise out of his head.

If he lives through this, he’ll remember it for a thousand years, a maddening infestation of the mind. It would seep into every one of their interactions, it would creep back into his head when he tried to bed her. It would follow them to the ends of the universe until they lost their souls.

Cazador shoves two of his fingers into her opened mouth, pressing far back until she’s about to gag from it, and she so enthusiastically licks them and coats them in her saliva, seeing Astarion’s pale face and hand while she does it.

“Look at her. So ready to please,” he says, and he wipes his spit-covered fingers on her cheek like she’s just a rag to wipe his filthy hands with.

Then, he covers her mouth fully with his palm forcefully; her brows furrow, eyes widen like she’s afraid, and her nails scratch hysterically at the wood beneath her. He’s relentless, holding her mouth shut tight and pushing her head to the desk while his motions become faster and stronger, and she looks like she’s in fucking pain.

One tear runs down Astarion’s face. Then another, then more; seemingly endless tears running down his face and dripping down onto his clothes and he does nothing to stop or wipe them away. He’s not even sure he could move right now, his body limp and bereft of any life.

Cazador finishing inside her is a sight and sound he’ll never be able to scrub from the crevices of his brain—a scene that will live in the black when he closes his eyes, inescapable.

“I see why you like her,” he taunts. “She’s obedient, isn’t she? And stupidly infatuated with you. A pity you’re too weak to exploit her.”

He fastens his trousers and straightens out the folds in his clothes; it’s all mechanical, it’s nothing for him but a job to be done, a performance to exert his power.

But Cazador was a pathetic, putrid little spawn once, too. He could be made one again.

He turns and leaves them alone. Together. Astarion’s body and mind are a mess—his face coated with dried, pitiful tears, and he’s lost on what being left behind here, with Tav, means. Does he grant them this visit to tempt Astarion and reprimand him for it later? Or is it as Aurelia had once said, bestowing a small ‘kindness’ for the cruelty of it?

He gives in to the temptation even if it earns him discipline later, desperate for so much as one moment with her, but it’s not temptation at all—he understands when he approaches her.

The sticky white leaking from her cunt and running down her leg, the bruises covering her back to her thighs, the way she lays there lifeless, even when allowed to move and speak; it’s all to prove she’d been broken. A reminder of the master’s ownership over them, what he’d taken from them.

“Tav.”

She doesn’t reply, doesn’t move.

“Please. We may never get to speak again,” Astarion begs, his voice cracking. He wanted to have the strength for them both, but he fucking can’t. “Talk to me.”

She starts to cry, he sees it run down her face and onto the desk. He pulls her dress back over her body and bends forward, laying beside her, looking at her.

Beautiful, as she’s always been. Not a monster as he yelled in anger, not already dead. She’s Tav, his first love; the only love he’ll ever know.

Her cries turn into violent sobs, though still she lays there, motionless. Paralyzed. Astarion gently touches her face with his fingertips, and when she doesn’t fight him on it, he trails down her cheek and wipes her tears away. It’s in vain, the tears flowing ceaselessly, but he can’t stop himself; he can’t think of anything but how desperately he wants to comfort her.

It’s a need worse than the hunger for blood—despite being starved ever since they came here, he forgot about it as soon as he felt her skin on his finger.

“Come on.”

He extends his hand towards her, to help her stand. He waits with it out until finally, she accepts and lifts herself with stiff movements, sore from the bruises. Bruises that weren’t meant for her, but for him to uncover and never forget.

He loathes to think how the dance must’ve felt for her. Awful. Unbearable.

“Tav.”

“Don’t. I’ve nothing left to give,” she says, sure of what he wants to express, and she doesn’t want to hear it.

Astarion could argue with her, he considers it; he could fight her and tell her everything she still has left to offer, everything he wishes they could share in. He learned better than anyone that undeath doesn’t mean you have no life left to live or that it’s not still you inside.

It’s selfish, but he can’t stop wondering if she’s truly given up on him and if she hates him for this. When Cazador ordered her to speak, did she mean what she said? Does she believe he stole her chance at life? She wouldn’t be wrong for it.

It had been his doing every step of the way, really—trying to seduce her, falling for her so carelessly, letting her hug and kiss and adore him and get under his skin, not insisting they kill Cazador the moment they stepped foot in the city. Fuck, he could’ve stopped it all when they met if he’d driven the knife through her throat.

As she walks away, he wonders if he’s ever told her he loves her.

Maybe it would’ve been selfish, anyway. Maybe she wouldn’t want to hear it.

#non con #dead dove fic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion fic #my fanfic

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myafterlifeisbetterthenyours · 2 years

Note

Yoooo i just wanted to say i love your blog and i love your x male stuff. Glad to see that finally. So i was wondering if you dont mind taking a request for me? You see im a simp for Striker and cowboys in general so i was wondering if you could mabey do a Striker x Cowboy imp male reader? Or just another imp who’s similar to him, thats a cowboy and likes to compete in the Pain Games? Mabey Reader is a bit different than Striker as he is more relaxed that Striker. And whenever Reader is angry he’s just one of those people who are calm while pissed. They scare me honestly. Sorry if that was a bit much didn’t mean to bombard ya.

Striker x male cowboy Imp reader

Life on Wrath was mind numbingly simple.

On Wrath you either get born into a worker family, or a family that owned some pathetic little slice of land one might call a farm.

Either way you'll be working the land your entire life.

And you, born into a dirt picking commoners family, quickly decided that life wasn't for you.

The first chance you got, you got out. Running far, far away from your po-dunk, shit house family.

Of course, you were just a dumb kid, so you quickly found desperate for work and housing, eventually finding yourself on another ranch.

This time however, you got yourself working extermination.

The ranch owner assigning you under a bastard old hunter, the man 'assigned' the task of fending off pests and predators.

It was brutal work. The ranch owner forcing you to work long nights, given sub par equipment with little pay and your "teacher" certainly showed no sympathy.

It was years of gruelling work, handling many a life threatening situation, but you eventually excelled and eventually, usurped your former teacher.

And after the bastard threw one last bottle at you, you challenged him. The two of you dueling on the spot.

He didn't even realise you'd moved until he felt the blade slice his throat.

But honearly, you felt nothing as you did it.

The bastard relished making you suffer through his "teachings." And you felt nothing as you watched the bastard collapse, staring at you as the life drained from him.

All that mattered was he was dead, and you weren't.

You left that day, taking your knowledge and equipment, riding off on your Hell-horse.

It didn't take long to find work. The whole damned ring was one big farm, so there was always something that needed killing.

But you quickly got sick of hunting wolves and overgrown rats.

So you quickly found yourself turned to mercenary work, mostly bounty hunting for local lords and buisnesses, quickly making a name for yourself.

Of course, a large portion of time was just spent dealing with idiots who wanted to prove something.

You would regularly work for ranchers, still finding some simple pleasure in working with cattle or hunting pests, often hired to protect them from one of Hells many predators.

But really, it was a simple, but not too simple a life you'd made for yourself.

One day you'd be hunting some debter, or some wanna be crime boss that'd pissed of the wrong noble.

You always got such a thrill during the hunt.

Or at least most the time you did, there were very few targets truly qualify as a hunt on Wrath, as I mentioned, it's mostly a rather boring community of farmers.

And while you enjoyed the work, you were quickly losing interest in the rather simple bounty jobs.

But luckily for you, you discovered the once a year celebration that was the harvest moon festival.

You didn't care for the festivities or the two bit carnival games.

What you wanted, what you were interested in, was the Pain Games.

You signed up every year without fail, and absolutely relished the whole thing.

Granted, most of your opponents were nobody hicks that had more muscle than brain, but it was at least a good workout.

Of course, you'd also have a run in with one Miss Millie, the girl finally being a real challenge for you.

You began a bitter rivalry with the girl, you being the only opponent she couldn't just kill. And well, you took such joy in seeing her pissed at you.

It was fun.

But, as fun as the pain games were, you needed something to keep you occupied throught the year.

So, you found yourself taking up assassin work, and by Satan, it was exactly what you needed.

It was a real thrill... A Real Hunt.

And it'd be as you were finishing up a job, just about to kill a target, when you ran into none other then Striker, the two of you initially pausing before instantly bickering over who got the kill.

Eventually you settled it over a coin toss, you winning with a heads.

But even as you took aim, Stiker hung about, playfully criticising everything you did. Of course, you still got the kill, rubbing it in the serpenty Imps face.

Striker, for his part, was much like many of the other shmucks you'd encountered.

He was smug, arrogant, and suspiciously well equipped. And well, not wanting to kill him, you tried your best to just ignore him.

But it seemed no matter what job you picked, You'd bump into the damned Cowboy Imp everywhere.

Now granted, you were as much a cowboy as him, you were just less... Smug about it.

He used his Wrathern voice and simple nature as a cover, using peoples assumptions on his nature to make them lower there guard.

You on the other hand were more level headed, and you certainly let people look down on you.

But as annoying as he was, Striker did have a certain... Allure to him.

As smug as he was, he did have the skills to back it all up. The Imp regularly giving you a run for your money, quite literally on many jobs.

Youd initially have a fierce rivalry, although it seemed like Striker was more interested in you then actually winning said rivalry.

And it'd be after you finally snapped at him, asking what he wanted that he'd tell you.

Striker asked you out.

You were shocked, understandably so. And, well, with nothing else to do and no real reason not to, you agreed, the two of you meeting up at a bar he knew.

You found him at the bar, saving a stool for you.

Pulling up a seat, you quickly got to drinking. The two of you talking, quickly bonding over your Wrathern origins.

You weren't all to surprised to find the Imp was much like yourself. The Imp despising the simpletons that inhabited the Wrath.

Granted, most the Imps on every Ring were simpletons. But at least the Imps on other Rings tried to wring more out of life.

The two of you drank some more, chatting and bonding over your shared early life experience, telling jokes and laughing, just having a good time.

But as you spoke, some towering Sinner shmuck came over and demanded your stool.

Striker became noticeably annoyed near instantly, tail rattling in frustration. You always noticed that about the Imp, if he was annoyed, he'd usually show it.

You just sat back, taking a sip of your drink before looking up at the sinner. Rather coldly, telling the man; 'If he wanted it, he should take it.'

So, the sinner, like the shmuck he was, reached out, trying to take your stool.

And he did grab it, for about a second before you sliced his hand off.

The man freaked out, Striker bursting into laughter.

Of course, the sinner didn't appreciate losing his hand, and in his endorphins riddled state, he swung a punch. A punch you instantly avoided, flipping over and smashing your glass into his head.

Flipping up onto the bar, you watched the sinner go down, the whole bars attention turning to you.

Faced with a crowd of angry sinners, you did the only thing you could think of.

"Bar Fight!"

You yelled it, and the sinners quickly obliged, jumping at each other's throats.

You threw a few punches, smashed a few bottles and used them as shanks. Your standard bar fight experience.

Except this time, Striker was by your side. And you had to admit, He was one helluva fighter. The Imp more then holding his own.

Eventually you both scrambled, getting out before it became a real slaughter, the Imp taking you back to his place.

You laughed and joked, and the next thing you knew, you were trying to suck each other's face off.

It quickly devolved in carnal, savage fucking, the two of you going long into the night.

You awoke sore all over, and due to your taste for Wrath moonshine, your hangover was more akin to a mild headache.

You found striker making breakfast, the Imp greeting you, smug as ever.

It was a little awkward, especially since neither of you were willing to be seen as the one who submitted to the other, the two of you bickering like children well past breakfast.

Eventually you ended up just sat there, unsure of what came next, until you asked. "What comes next?"

Striker shrugged, asking if you just wanted to... see what happens.

You agreed, the two of you beginning a rather relaxed relationship.

One of your main "bonding activities" as Striker like to call them, was taking jobs together. And if you were good when competing with each other, you were practically a force of nature when working together.

Your reputation and prestige grew seemingly overnight, quickly becoming none as a dangerous duo. And as your reputations grew, so did your relationship, the two of you getting closer and closer with each successful job.

Of course, between each job, you still spent plenty of time together.

Whether that was out on the town, celebrating a job well done. The two of you, often ending up at a bar, burning through your pay. Before either starting a bar fight or running off to have vigorous sex.

Often times, both.

Sometimes at the same times.

And while you loved Strikers cool, calm and collected nature, even if it his arrogance often got on your nerves. You were honestly surprised at how genuine Striker could be.

Once you got past the small ocean of smugness the Imp seemed to float on, the Snakey Imp was surprisingly deep as a character.

He had likes and dislikes, hobbies and dreams.

Granted, much of those hobbies and dreams involved killing demons and gaining infamy, but he still had personality.

And it seemed the longer you spent together, the deeper and more intimate your relationship became.

The whole thing accumulating during one of your missions.

Youd been hired to wipe out some shitty gang, the two of you getting caught off guard by reinforcements, the two of you pinned behind cover.

Youd just reloaded your pistol, waiting for an opportunity to return fire when you looked over at Striker. And after doing so, you could help but find the Imp just... so handsome. A strange feeling blooming in your chest.

Reaching over, you grabbed his face, turning him to you.

You stared into those ringed eyes before telling him simply,

"I Love You."

Striker was understandably shocked, but quickly smiled, grabbing you by the head and giving you a deep kiss.

You were brought out of your loving stupor by the sound of something metal landing before you.

Breaking the Kiss, and looking down, you found the familiar shape of a grenade.

Striker, as he often did, seemed to act on instinct, snatching it up before jumping, throwing the grenade mid air, firing as the grenade went off.

You quickly followed, jumping into the fight, the two of you fighting until you were the only living beings in a five block radius.

The two of you stood before a battlefield, the smell of blood and gunpowder, the two of you just standing there, chests heaving, weapons still in hand.

Your head turned him him, the snake doing the same.

You stared at each other for several moments.

You practically lunged at each other. You kissed, clawing at each other's clothes, practically tearing them off each other.

You fucked right there, in the centre of that battlefield. And to be completely honest, It was the best sex of your life.

After that, your relationship seemed to become... simpler.

You loved each other, you had a title for those feeling and it was simple as that.

You were in a committed relationship, the two of you forming a very loving. Very Intimate, relationship.

You became the ultimate hellborne powerhouse couple, no job was ever beyond your reach.

And it'd be as you were on the Wrath ring having just finished your latest job, that he'd hand you something.

You were expecting a sharpening stone for your blade, but instead found a small brown case. And looking at him you just found the Imp staring back at you.

Looking back at the case, you popped it open, finding two silver rings.

You just stared at it for several moments, looking up at Striker, the Imp just scratching his neck.

"I was gonna get gold, But... they seemed a little... too indulgent." He finished awkwardly, stepping over and taking one of the Rings.

Taking your hand in his own, he cleared his throat.

"I don't even know if it's a real thing down here or... whatever. And I we don't gotta put a name on it, it's just..."

Looking up, he sighed. Sliding down onto one knee, he asked simply. "Will you marry me, (Y/N)?"

Hearing that, everything hit you, you stumbling back, breath hitching in your throat.

After taking several deep breaths you just nodded, holding your hand out.

With his iconic little smile, Striker slipped the ring onto your finger, you following suit with his ring, the two of you embracing each other, sharing an entense kiss.

You officiated your unholy union on Wrath, stopping by Lust for a week long honeymoon.

A honeymoon that mostly comprised of fine spirits, fine food and many, many long nights in bed.

And laying in your mess of a bed, Striker laid next to you in nothing but assless chaps, you knew he was the only man for you.

#helluva boss #headcanon #helluva boss headcanon #x reader #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss striker #striker x reader #striker #striker x male reader

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shymorose · 2 years

Text

GOOD EVENING DARLING ♡ part 1

author’s note: i sat on it for a few hours, this is my first exposure to this type of writing but i really likes it, enjoy reading! *kisses*

pairing: tom grant (character played by joseph quinn)

warnings: romance professor x student, nudity

summary: you have not been in contact with tom for a good few days but for what reason? did something happen?

Friday evening, you recently finished the last lectures, you are tired and a little annoyed.... Grant has not appeared at the university for several days, your relationship for several weeks has been very intimate, but he himself has not been gracious, but inform yourself what is the reason for his absence, after all, you are not together, it's just sex and you yourself know it very well, silly you, your head, can not stop sending you more memories of Mr. G, his rough hands on your soft naked body, moving up towards your firm breasts, squeezing them possessively, as if letting you know who they belong to and how much he loves your curves, every last bit, his face with a gallant smile going towards yours.... UGH ! FUCK HIM!!!

On the way to your apartment you look into the nearest grocery store to stock up on something for the evening. Yes some wine and a frozen pizza will soothe my nerves, you say to yourself in your mind. The lamp light illuminates the hallway and the small slick kitchen, you open the pizza and put it in the oven, it's time for wine. Yes, it's going to be a dreamy evening. In the next two hours you happen to devour 3 episodes of your favorite TV series, half the pizza and drink a few sips of wine, it doesn't taste as good as you might think, you feel the need to be with someone specific, but you're afraid to admit it to yourself, it's annoying! Stop immediately, you are thinking too much! You decide that a hot bath is one of the best options to relax and calm your nerves for the moment. You've been lying in the tub for a good hour, well not very helpful, but at least you've made an effort, the foam is slowly receding, but it still covers everything it should. Your head begins to droop sleepily, but the sound of the apartment door opening fully wakes you up.... I locked them after all, you think to yourself. If it's some murderer then I'm done for, you'd sooner fall into the dryer tub yourself than let yourself be touched. You hear the sound of shoes stepping on your panels. You try not to make any sound, but through your fine motor coordination you drop several bottles on the bathroom floor. You croak, it's over.... You see the knob on your bathroom door gently turn, the blood draining from your face, when suddenly you notice a very familiar face.

*MR. GRANT??!!!* He is dressed quite formally, a cream shirt, unbuttoned, showing slightly tanned skin, dark suit pants and smart shoes. Of course, he dresses similarly for university, but Friday night? Grant is not the type to party or club cat.... *GOOD EVENING DARLING, FOR YOU TOM, WE'VE ALREADY TALKED ABOUT THIS.... I DON'T WANT YOU TO TALK TO ME MISTER* he finishes, sweeping his gaze over you, he mirrors every visible part of your skin, you try to cover up as best you can, but every subsequent movement of your body makes the fragrant lather disappear. *HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?" he sighs, heading toward you and sits down on the edge of the tub. *FROM WHAT I REMEMBER, YOU GIVEN ME THE KEY HOW MUCH TWO WEEKS AGO? YOU KNOW IF WE HAD TO CONSULT THE TOPIC OF YOUR ESSAY* very audibly emphasizes the word essay, has a very sexual tone...stop! Oh you idiot!!! Of course you gave him the keys! This week has been so intense for you that it apparently fell out of your head.

Grant sees that you are thinking about something, he looks at you with big brown eyes while biting the lower lip of your pink perfectly carved lips.... OH MY GOD!!! *AND YOU RECOGNIZED...* he freezes you with his eyes *YOU RECOGNIZED THAT THIS WAS A GOOD TIME TO COME INTO MY APARTMENT IN COMPLETE SILENCE, WITHOUT TALKING FOR EXAMPLE I DON'T KNOW.... HEY ITS’S ME! GRANT!!! MAYBE IT WOULD BE LESS STRESSFUL FOR ME, I DON'T KNOW.... !!!!! YOU REALLY PRESTRESSED ME, YOU SHOULD NOT...* interrupts your speech by pressing his lips to yours. The kiss becomes intense, apparently he asks you to deepen it, but you push him away proudly, he is surprised, he didn't expect this. *O NO! YOU WILL NOT BLIND ME WITH THOSE OF YOURS.... THOSE YOU... ACTIONS!!! O NO!* an expression of surprise and a slight smile appears on his face. He loves it when you are so, so appealingly nervous.... Desiring an answer.... Desiring him.

He sighs *OH AND THAT'S WHAT IT'S ABOUT HMM? THAT'S WHY I WASN'T AT THE UNIVERSITY YES? WHY ARE YOU RIDICULOUS SWEETHEART?" she slides her thumb across your cheek *NO* you reply *NO? I THINK THIS IS THE REASON FOR YOUR NERVOUSNESS, REMEMBER I AM A SCHOLAR.... I KNOW SOME ELEMENTS OF HUMAN PSYCHIQUE* he replies with a gentle smile *I HAVE TO GO AWAY FOR A FEW DAYS TO MY PARENTS, DAD ASKED ME TO DO SOME ERRANDS FOR HIS SMALL BUSINESS AND MY MOTHER REALLY WANTED ME TO STAY A FEW MORE DAYS AND ALSO... * You interrupt him *YOU DON'T HAVE TO TOM, WE'RE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP, I HAVE NO PRETENSIONS FOR YOU* you turn your head, he gently grabs your chin with two fingers, pointing your face toward him *...AND ALSO, I CALLED YOU, MANY TIMES.....

#mine #read #joseph quinn #joseph quinn oneshot #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #tom grant #tom grant imagine #tom grant oneshot #tom grant x reader #stranger things #ask

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nakamurastorrington · 10 months

Note

Percabeth/Alabaster

Athena and Poseidon corner and warn threaten Al

Al relishes on the fact he pissed off two Olympians in a very very personal manner

CACKLES YESSSSSSSSSSS

"I have cause for celebration tonight," huffs Alabaster when he sees the odd looks Annabeth and Percy give him. Or more accurately, the wine bottle and glasses he has in hand as he comes out of the kitchen. He sets them down on the table and starts pouring.

Annabeth elegantly takes the first glass that's filled by its delicate stem. "And that would be?"

Alabaster's about to fill the third glass when he pauses and goes back into their pantry. He comes out with a pitcher of sparkling cider for Percy, who softly smiles and relaxes in his seat.

"Thank you," murmurs Percy. A hand grasps at Alabaster's waist to pull him into Percy's lap; Alabaster swats at his arm but lets himself be manhandled anyway.

Once they've clinked their glasses together and Alabaster's sure no one's at the risk of choking on anything, he says, "Well, your parents have finally set their eons-rivalry aside."

Percy catches on first and snickers. "Oh my god, didn't my dad learn anything from the last time he tried to shovel-talk you?"

"Apparently not. That, or he very badly wanted to see me in sleepwear again, because those fuckers showed up during my nap and astral-yoinked me out of my body."

Annabeth rises out of her seat. "My mother tried to threaten you?" she faintly says, no longer enjoying the wine.

"Keyword: tried." Alabaster downs another mouthful of rich red wine. "But it's getting kinda old, you know. Once they were done with threatening to make me insane and turn me into all kinds of creatures, they moved onto actually trying to do it."

"What?!"

"Then they realized that the amount of protection runes I'd put on myself wasn't just paranoia and actually worked, so they started trying to bribe me. Endless wealth and power and all that. The grey-eyed lady does have a lot more finesse than the sea god."

"And what'd you say?" Annabeth grimly prompts.

"I said, sure, I'll leave them. But you either lift my exile or resurrect the siblings you killed after the amnesty was granted. Fair is fair." Draining his glass, Alabaster sighs and grabs the bottle itself. "That shut them up real quick."

"Oh, Al," Annabeth sighs, and Alabaster wraps his arms around her middle. He buries his face into her stomach and breathes in the scent lingering in her turtleneck's knitted fabric. Percy's thumbs rub soothing circles into his sides.

The bottle is gently pried out of his hands and set somewhere on the table where he can't reach it. "This isn't your first drink of the day, is it?" Percy accuses.

"I was trying to calm down," mumbles Alabaster. "The wine made everything seem a little funnier. Not so funny now that I'm recounting to you guys what went down."

Even if he can't see them, Alabaster feels it when Percy and Annabeth lock gazes, a whole conversation being carried out in those few moments of silence. They're furious, even if they're trying to not show it right now for his sake, but Alabaster doesn't think it would spook him even if their anger were more palpable. If anything, his heart is rabbiting in his chest at the thought—Annabeth and Percy furious for him, for his safety, ensconcing him between their bodies and their protection.

"I'm alright," he whispers, and their attention turns back to him instantly. He pulls back a little from his hold on Annabeth to look at her worried face. "I'm okay."

"You better be," snarls Percy. "If they'd done something to you, Poseidon and Athena would have a lot to answer for and hell on their hands." Thunder booms outside their window, but Percy just rolls his eyes.

"Percy," Annabeth reprimands on instinct, but the command falls flat with no fire to back it up. She turns back to Alabaster. "... What he said, though. We chose to do this, Al. Nothing our parents say will change our minds; we're not leaving you."

That choice might not be in your hands. What if—

Alabaster forcibly swallows those thoughts down. Instead, he leans into them, chooses to let go. Chooses to take the leap of faith. "I know," he whispers.

"You better," rumbles Percy against the back of his neck, and Alabaster laughs at the petulant tone that bleeds into those words. Percy's soothing hands turn vicious, pinching the insides of Alabaster's thighs. "Why are you laughing?!"

"Because we got gloomy for no reason," snorts Alabaster. He grabs a fondly exasperated Annabeth by the cowl until their noses are touching. "See, I told you guys: it's a cause for celebration."

"You worry me," Annabeth sighs. She steals a kiss, then two, from Alabaster. "All the time. It drives me crazy."

“What about me?” Percy pouts. Annabeth and Alabaster both roll their eyes.

“You, you infuriate me.” Annabeth leans in to kiss Percy, who looks so besotted Alabaster can somewhat understand why Olympus suspects he’s under a love curse.

And. God. Damn. He’s never gonna get tired of this view.

#alabaster torrington #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabethaster #my asks #my ficlets #thank you for the ask anon it sent me into the stratosphere #smartwatermagic #HAHAHAHAH THAT SHIPNAME IS SO FUNNY TO ME FR

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mistasangel · 1 year

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Working on Fanfics

Right now I’m working on a Miraculous fanfic and its nsfw, lol I’m revising and editing as I’m deciding if I want to share it or not. I’ve created quite a few things for this fanfic and had fun doing so and I thought I’d share them.

We’ll start with Kwami/Miraculous

Fae- a tiny pink, black and purple fairy, she grants the user the power of poison. weapons are control over vines made of deadly nightshade and to have them inject who ever is tied up with enough of the toxin to send them into slumber land the user snaps their fingers to make the vines thorns come out, there is a vial that is left with the victim, this vile contains the way to wake sleeping beauty up. Her Miraculous is a necklace of a dragon’s claw holding a sphere shaped ruby, it’s also known as the Dragon’s Eye Ruby. Her user is my OC: Isabella “Bella” Deville. Fae has two unifications both are formed with Plagg, if Bella uses the unification she becomes Shadow Cat if Adrien uses the unification he becomes Wolfbane. Ladybug’s Miraculous Tikki has a friendship unity with Fae and gains the form of Venom bug...which came out of Cat Noir’s mouth in the story, lol

Anti-Fae- the complete opposite of Fae, and it’s shark like and grants the user power over sea creatures which are the new akuma once her user Dynamyte or as she goes by later Aquashark defeats Monarch, the bigger the sea creature she uses the bigger and stronger her victim is. Her Miraculous is a Shark’s tooth necklace. Her user is Dynamyte/Aquashark and she’s nuttier then Monarch was

Ethe- a tiny clown like Kwami, grants the user the power of laughter, Orbs float around the user and when hit with them the person who is hit laughs and any comical thing that happens in their presences makes them continue to laugh. His Miraculous is The Laughing Theater Mask, His user is Luka as the brooch was given to him by my OC Lilac

Riel- A tiny crying clown like Kwami, grants the user the power of crying whether it be out of joy, sadness, frustration or anger or your laughing that hard you cry, the user is surrounded by orbs that they shoot at people, Ladybug cane reverse the effects using her Lucky Charm. Her Miraculous is the Crying Theater Mask and her user is my OC Lilac. Both Luka and Lilac gain masks on their faces that are removeable. Luka’s name when using Ethe is The Terrifier do to his masking being creepy, Lilac’s name when using Riel is SuzyQ, which comes from an old scary story.

Ethe and Riel have a special Unification called Ethereal, which is a divine being, when both masks come together this is formed, Luka gains the use of this when Dynamyte crashes his, Lilac, Adrien and Bella’s wedding as they are getting married on the same day at the same spot, Felix later steals the brooches and causes hell later on and gets a beating from Adrien for it. Yes Adrien, not Cat Noir but Adrien beats the shit out of his cousin and it’s not the first time he’s done so.

Kooka is a cockroach type thing who has yet to be finished, Her Miraculous however are pair of black peal earrings. Possibly grants power of filth/ user is able to make instant messes out of anything.

Reaper is an Anubis like Kwamii, he grants the user the power over life and death...very bad in the wrong hands, his Miraculous is a staff that looks like the one held by Anubis. He has been lost for many years so not much is known about him.

Now for the Akumatized victims

The Auctioneer- he is created from Bella’s father when he looses his temper over loosing an item he wanted for her, though Cat Noir reminds him his daughter will love him no matter what and Cat Noir was fighting with a broken ankle when he attacked, his weapon is a huge hammer.

Heartbreaker- He is created from Adrien when he snaps because of Chloe, all the anger he had bottled up over the years finally comes out and he gets turned into this, his weapon is his voice, what he does is makes girls fall in love with him and then breaks their heart then drains their emotions from them, on his chest is a meter, once that meter is filled up, he screams creating a super sonic sound wave that destroys everyone and everything in it’s path. Bella gains the use of Shadow Cat to go after him. Her and the others surround him and tell him to let it all out that anger isn’t good, he’s able to fight the control and falls to the ground crying, Bella as Shadow Cat goes and holds him in her arms which allows Plagg to go into his ring and force the akuma out of it and Ladybug takes care of it.

Mother-May-I- She is created from Luka’s girlfriend Lilac after a fight with his sister, she has the ability to make you speak with proper grammar if she gets her hand over your mouth, her weapon is a yard stick which she hits with, she’s the first one to reveal that the akuma are different sea creatures and come in different sizes, Adrien has to use the form of Wolfbane to pry the squid out of her guitar to turn her back to normal and they can’t hit her in the stomach for a special reason. First fight of the story where you actually witness Adrien/Cat Noir/Wolfbane drop the Fbomb out of frustration, lol. Luka does as well way later and it's aimed at Felix ,lol

The Digitalizer- This one is made from Bella after Chloe succeeds in pissing her off, she has the ability to suck people into her stylus and put them in her tablet where their deepest, darkest secrets will be revealed, she breaks control when she refuses to attack Cat Noir.

Love Struck-she’s created from some random girl who has a crush on Luka and when she finds out he’s married and has a baby on the way she goes crazy so Dynamyte makes the crazy worse, she has the ability to make people fall in love with either each other, themselves or other objects, she is defeated by Luka as The Terrifier when he makes her laugh and reminds her there’s someone out there waiting to find her.

Drama Queen- She is created from Becca after she has a fight with Nathan over something stupid and it doesn’t sit well with Marc who goes after her to try and stop her, he does manage to stop her with the help of Ladybug, Cat Noir and Nightshade, She has a doll that when she hits with it makes you cause drama, her first victim is Lila who gets the crap beaten out of her by Bella.

Drama King- He’s created out a both Marc and Nathan when it’s found out that Becca is having a baby and they don’t know who the father is and they get into a fight over it. His weapon is a scepter that when hit with causes fighting between couples, they do hit Adrien and Bella with it but Chloe and Ladybug snap them out of it. In this story they are adults.

The Erasonator- this is a stupid one created out of a random dude, he has the ability to erase anything but he can’t wipe out memories, he alters them and they have to sort out a huge mess that he makes, his weapon is an eraser.

Pixie Dust-This one is created out a random child who is mad that she can’t have the new pixie doll that came out, she has a bag of pixie dust and when she sprinkles it on someone or something it changes how they look, Cat Noir takes care of the little problem with some help from Nightshade.

Blushing Bride- she is created from Bella and Lilac when Felix steals the brooches and ruins their wedding, Luka and Adrien must face them and deal with Felix.

When Felix steals the brooches and gains his Ethereal like form he goes by the name of The Destroyer. Th only thing that gets destroyed his pride.

As for the children Adrien and Bella have twin boys named Avery and Alexander, Luka and Lilac have a daughter that they name Yasmin. Marc and Becca have a son named Eitan.

In this story Dynamyte defeats Monarch and replaces him, after his defeat he reveals who he is to Adrien, Adrien how ever refuses to reveal that he's Cat Noir to him, he is pissed at father for lying and hiding the truth, but he does forgive him and learns what happened to his mother, Bella's dad works with Gabriel to help him cope with the loss of his wife and he has a decision to make, give her a proper burial and let her rest or allow Bella to revive her, he gives his answer way later in the story. He gains the use of Hawkmoth back after Master Fu gives Ladybug Guardianship (I did it later the show), she gives him the butterfly miraculous back when Dynamyte crashes his son's wedding and Felix causes mayhem right along side of her, this is where he finds out his son is Cat Noir as Felix as the Destroyer snaps his right arm and takes his miraculous from him and goes to kill him but Hawkmoth stops him just in time and retrieves the miraculous and gives it back to his son after getting him to safety, he how ever doesn't say that he knows who he is and does this to protect him. After an incident with an akumatized victim, he gains the form of Monarch back and goes after this person as this person almost killed his son, Bella and her unborn babies, he defeats this person with the help of Ladybug and Cat Noir, after he hides Bella somewhere safe as she is very pregnant and he doesn't want her to fight. (he returns all the miraculous to Ladybug after the fight) Kagami acts as her body guard during this fight. The Peacock Miraculous is retrieved from Felix by Chloe who messes with him then snatches it when he lets his guard down, she returns it to Ladybug as she doesn't want to break her trust as she promised to give it her if she managed to get it. Bella gets Gabriel's ring back from him as well and that's after she gives him a hickory nut crunch that he'll never forget. I mention that Adrien beats the shit out of Felix more then once, the first time is when Felix tries to have his way with Bella, to bad for him that Plagg and Fae were hidden in the room and saw everything and Plagg went to get Adrien and Fae used Bella's phone to call Adrien, using the phones like an intercom so he could hear everything that was going on until he got into the bedroom.Fae unlocks the door giving him an easy entrance and he spear tackles his cousin and beats the shit out of him. After his defeat he (Monarch) returned the Miraculous back to Ladybug and they are restored to their former state. So yeah I've been busy, as of now they're having an engagement party for the ones getting married and their parents embarrassed them by sharing baby pictures and Bella started a water balloon fight...oh and they had a body part naming war going on as well, lol They may be adults but they know how to have fun. updated it to add more of what’s going on with my story.

#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir

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dragonsruby · 2 years

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Hey Pokémon or Disney/Aladdin fans, I'm struggling with another concept for the Aladdin/Pokémon AU I'm writing up, and I need help trying to think through it. Could you help me out, if you'd like?

What would Genie be in the Pokémon world? Jirachi, Hoopa, or something else?

I'll explain my dilemma below the cut, if you want to read first.

This encapsulates the Disney animated franchise so this would include The Return of Jafar, the TV series and The King of Thieves. Basically, this Genie goes through the full process of the first movie, being set free and going off on his own, but then returns in the sequels to stay with his found family. He's lost some of his power, now being rendered "semi-phenomenal, nearly cosmic," but still keeps many of his original abilities, like shape-shifting, creating objects from nothing, and essentially doing anything that can progress the plot without solving it. He's eccentric and fun-loving, sometimes to the detriment of the plot since he tends to act before he thinks. All in all, he's pretty much the same, but he grows more fun-loving and eccentric over time.

(also, that quote needs to be a meme, I swear)

So with that, I'm struggling to figure out what Genie would be represented by in a Pokémon story since his personality and abilities change over time. I've come down to a few specifics for characters, but my best guess is that he would be represented well by Jirachi, Hoopa, or both of them.

On the one hand, the vast array of mystical abilities seems to be right up the alley of Jirachi, who's based on the concept of tanzaku (the strips of paper where wishes are written upon) and grants wishes for the seven days where it's awake every 1,000 years.

Jirachi would fit well into the story of Aladdin as the Genie, being awoken by the Diamond in the Rough Aladdin (does he sing to it in a pure voice? I must know) and choosing to serve him for the seven days that it is awake. During those days, it accompanies Aladdin on his adventure, offering advice and entertainment while getting Aladdin the life that he wants. Jafar ends up stealing its power, whether by using Jirachi or draining Jirachi of its power through its third eye, somehow giving him great power until Aladdin seals him or all of his power away. In the end, Jirachi wishes to be awake for longer to have more adventures, and Aladdin himself does what he can to grant this wish, leading to Jirachi losing much of its power but able to stay awake for much longer than the one week that it's used to. Though it goes off on its own, it eventually comes back to spend more time with Aladdin, whom it had come to love as a good friend.

The main issue I see with having Jirachi take the genie's place is how little we know of its abilities. The extent of its power seems to vary depending on the adaptation, with it being unable to create new material in the anime, being able to grant one wish per written-on tag in the manga (three in total) and an entry from the games (Alpha Sapphire for this one) stating that it is "said to make true any wish that people desire."

While it likely could be fun-loving, Jirachi seems limited to granting the wishes of others, and its small size and inability to alter itself (apart from crystalizing its body when it goes into hibernation), while having the powers needed for the story, makes it much less like the genie in in terms of appearance, ability and personality.

Hoopa, on the other hand, has no wish-granting properties, but it does have access to alternate dimensions through the rings that it holds. A majority of its great power is sealed in the Prison Bottle (also known as the Djinn's Bottle in Super Mystery Dungeon), which, when opened, releases the power for Hoopa to become Hoopa Unbound. If it is able to control the power, then it can access and alter multiple dimensions from its rings, with the movie even showing Hoopa calling upon the power of Legendary Pokémon (essentially deities) and using their power for its own will.

Now, Hoopa's got the appearance in SPADES. It wouldn't have the shapeshifting abilities of the genie or the power to grant one's wishes, but it definitely has the looks, mischievous nature and personality of a fun-loving magical creature, whether it be through the diminutive Hoopa Confined of the massive Hoopa Unbound.

The plot of Aladdin very heavily relied on the genie only being able to provide three wishes per master, though, and with how powerful the wishes that the genie grants (everything from flying one out of a cave to turning a human into a genie themselves), it would be very difficult to find an excuse for Hoopa to work out something like that. It would work perfectly in the franchise after the first movie, with its powers being considerably weakened, but getting to that point would be difficult.

If we were to put Hoopa in the spot of Genie, then a concept could be that Hoopa is trapped in the Cave of Wonders, sealed away along with the Prison Bottle. Aladdin is tricked into retrieving the bottle by Jafar, who wishes to use Hoopa to achieve his goals of conquering Agrabah and becoming known for his all-encompassing power. Aladdin is trapped with Hoopa and unintentionally releases the power, allowing Hoopa to become Unbound. Hoopa promises to get Aladdin whatever he wants in thanks for releasing him, using his powers to alter and access other areas and dimensions to disguise Aladdin as a prince to gain access to the palace so that he may meet Princess Jasmine again. Jafar eventually steals the bottle and imprisons Hoopa, forcing Hoopa to unleash its power for his own sake and causing destruction in the palace while imprisoning the royalty. Aladdin makes it back with the abilities of his allies that he made during the story, fighting against Jafar and freeing the prisoners, eventually getting Jafar banished to his own dimension. Hoopa is freed from Jafar's control and uses its power to return the palace to normal. The Sultan allows Jasmine to choose Aladdin as her fiancé, and Hoopa, with its job done, goes off to explore the world. Once it is satisfied, Hoopa returns to spend more time with the people who inspired it.

Maybe its main setback in using power is something like in Hoopa and the Clash of Ages, where Hoopa could access other dimensions through its rings but was cursed to not move through the rings itself until it understood why it was cursed in the first place. Something similar could explain why it could only use a certain amount of power for itself and for others.

Alternatively, maybe they both could work somehow? It would add more major characters than was originally in the Aladdin movie, but it would give both aspects of the genie without much compromise. Hoopa could teleport others around and provide anything from any world in order to provide things like the carpet (whatever THAT will end up being), the parade, the large beasts to fight for or against Jafar and the villains, while Jirachi would be the wish-granter who serves its master or whoever has taken its power. That could be like the recorded demo of the Aladdin movie where Aladdin held possession over both the genie of the lamp and the genie of the ring. They serve the plot for whatever is needed, and they defend each other from opposition. To give them identities apart from others of their kind, if desired, they could be given names like Genie and Eden from the animated TV series.

The main issue is... well, they'd likely be very, very overpowered, particularly for the first movie. Deciding which monster should perform which task from the film would be difficult, and juggling them could be a hassle. All the same, it's an idea.

With ALL OF THAT said, it's been bugging me for several months now, and I want to hear some opinions apart from my own. Could you all help me out?

#aladdin #aladdin au #pokémon au #pokémon #genie #jirachi #hoopa #pokémon question #pokemon question #pokemon

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fire-for-you · 9 months

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this is where the rest of our life begins - PART THREE

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pairing - l. fitz x g. ward

rating - teen and up (for part three: mpreg, boys in love, alpha grant ward, omega leo fitz, a/b/o dynamics, aos season 1, established relationship, fluff, domestic fluff)

word count - 1,148

summary - fitz's first ultrasound!

how far along is fitz - 12 weeks

|-<3-|

Two months later...

“Come on, Leo! We have to go see Simmons! She has to check on you and the baby!” Grant said rather tiredly. He had been trying to get his partner up for the past half an hour. The man just groaned and rolled over, starfishing on his small bed.

“Just let me sleep. Don’t they say you should get as much sleep as possible before the baby comes?” Leo breathed out and then proceeded to shove his face into a pillow.

“Well, yeah, I suppose. But you don’t do that on a day you have a wellness check.” Fitz still didn’t move. “Please?” The Alpha begged, exasperated.” If you get out of bed...I don’t know; I’ll give you a present or something.”

“A present? What kind of present?” The pillow muffled his already small Omega voice.

Grant started to pull at Leo’s limbs. “I don’t know, you choose. Please get out of bed, Leo.”

The Scot groaned. “Fine.” Spurred by his Alpha’s assertiveness, he hoisted himself off the mattress and rubbed his abdomen, a small bump showing there. Halfway to the cargo door, Fitz paused. “Wait, I have to go to the bathroom.” He jogged to the end of the hall and opened the restroom door, sliding inside. Ward sighed. This was becoming more common, Fitz rushing off to the bathroom. After a long research session they both participated in, he concluded it was part of the first trimester.

Leo came walking back, some of the heat in his face drained away. Ward stuck out his hand, which the shorter took. When they finally reached the lab, Jemma had it out for them, her potent Alpha pheromones dripping in annoyance.

“Took you long enough. I have things to do too, boys. So that you know. Anyway, Leo, hop up here, please.” She pushed a step stool over to the table and folded her arms. Fitz mirrored her, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m not that fragile.” The Omega said in defiance.

“Thought you said you liked precautions.” She countered.

“Leo, come on,” Grant said from behind him. Leo shrugged and used the step stool, obeying his Alpha. He laid down on the table, Simmons bringing over a makeshift ultrasound machine.

She lifted the pregnant man’s shirt, rubbing the hairless skin with an anti-bacterial wipe to remove any dirt. “Okay, this is gonna be cold.” She squeezed the ultrasound gel bottle, smearing it on Leo’s belly. He shivered, goosebumps breaking out on his pale skin.

“Gosh, Jemma. If I knew you were going to give me hypothermia, I wouldn’t have come down.”

She rolled her eyes at the joke as Grant laughed. She glanced at the other Alpha, a judging look on her face. He looked away guiltily. The scientist applied the transducer, and an image appeared. The image moved with the baby as it detected a heartbeat. “O-oh, my god! There it is!” Leo exclaimed, excited. He squeezed Grant’s hand as the other looked at him adoringly.

“Yep. There’s the pup’s head.” Jemma pointed at the screen, chasing the outline. “And organs… The legs… In fact, I might be able to determine the sex right now if you want?”

The Omega looked at Grant, who shrugged. “It’s totally up to you.” The younger shook his head.

“I think we will wait.”

“Okay, I’ll just be a few minutes; I have to analyze the image. And I will also need another blood sample.” She stood to grab a needle and another wipe.

The woman cleaned the area and then inserted the syringe, pulling out an ounce of blood.

She then grabbed her clipboard and set to work, finding his due date, screening for disorders, and many other things. Grant and Leo talked idly as she worked, waiting for their results. “And. Done. Your due date is approximately August 22. There is only one fetus.”

“Thank God.” Leo interrupted.

“I can’t find any probability of disorders. Your baby is healthy, Leo.” Jemma patted his shoulder encouragingly. The Omega smiled, thanking her. He then made his way to get off the table, his boyfriend helping him. “I’ll give you the results later when I finalize them. Go rest and eat something healthy. Ward, make sure.”

He nodded, guiding Leo to the door and upstairs.

Grant was trying to get Leo to eat a ham and cheese sandwich when Skye approached them with a tan envelope. “Simmons told me to give this to you. What is it?” She asked, taking a seat next to them on the C-shaped sofa.

Leo took the envelope, unclasped it, and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “My ultrasound results.” Ward looked over his shoulder as Leo read it, crunching on a carrot loudly.

1st Ultrasound results for the unborn baby of: Leopold Fitz (Mother) and Grant Ward (Father) Fetus amount: One Due Date: Appr. Aug 22 Gestational Age: 12 Weeks Sex: Not Specified Fetus Heart Rate: 140 BPM Disorders Discovered: None Ectopic Pregnancy: Negative

“Mom Fitz. That sounds weird.” Skye turned up her lip. Leo put the folder on the table and caught a letter as it fell out.

For when you’re ready <3

-Jemma

"Not so bad." Fitz smiled, appreciating his best friend even more as he realized the gender of his pup was in it. Ward side-hugged him, and Skye joined, squeezing lightly before sliding off the sofa and walking away. Grant pulled his partner’s face toward him, kissing him sweetly. The couple sat in content silence for a few moments, Leo chewing on his sandwich. He made a face like he remembered something and turned to Grant. “I’m still waiting on that present.” He said sassily, picking at a piece of cheese.

The Alpha paused nuzzling his partner’s scent gland to roll his eyes. “What do you want?”

“What is your middle name?” He asked.

Grant laughed, surprised. “Seriously? Douglas. I thought you knew that.”

Leo smiled. “Nope. Grant Douglas Ward. G.D.W. Hmm. I like it.” He said, tapping the brunette’s nose.

Grant laughed, kissing his cheek, his five o’clock shadow tingling on Leo’s skin. “What’s yours?”

“James.”

“Leopold James Fitz. Hmm. I like mine better.” His Alpha grinned, resting his head on his hand.

Leo hit him on the thigh, giggling. “Rude.”

“What about Leopold James Ward?” Grant looked at him like he was propositioning him: eyebrows raised, an easy smile, but a challenge in his eyes.

“Are you... proposing?” Leo’s heart swelled.

“Do you want me to?” Grant’s eyes bore into his, causing the Omega to look away.

Leo thought about it for a moment. “Not…yet. One thing at a time, babe.”

He stood up, patting his partner on the cheek and moving away to take care of his dish. Ward stayed there, smiling until he felt his phone vibrate, the caller I.D. saying, John Garrett. He picked it up, walked into his room, and, sighing, answered it.

“John. What’s up?”

you can also read this story here

|-<3-|

masterlist & other such things

|-<3-|

MCU masterlist

|-<3-|

| 1 | 2 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

#leo fitz #grant ward #fitzward #leo fitz x grant ward #grant ward x leo fitz #agents of shield #agents of shield season one #jemma simmons #fire-for-you #part three #daisy johnson

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stormwinddeliveries · 1 year

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Day Two 5/14

Journal Entry: *Noodles hand writing is immaculate. Near calligraphy.*

Today, sucked. Not only was I moody, and achy, and sick, and likely out too much, but I...well no that was all basically it. I felt like shit and everything seemed to be going to shit. A general negative mind space that wasn't corrected by going out and doing anything. Or being around people, even people I love. I got moody and honestly kind of mean with Jasper. I snapped at some fellow who I don't really know all that well because he was annoying me. Told him to shut the fuck up and that I didn't like him, right to his face! Today feels like a day that I would have drank if I was drinking to lighten the feeling of all these emotions. Mostly the bad ones that are making me feel heavy, more achy, slow...Like rocks are tied to my wrists and they're pulling my entire soul down towards the floor.

I didn't, though. Drink. Likely because I didn't allow myself to be alone. Even if my company was kind of shit and I mostly just fretted about upsetting Red, my friends put up with me. Olive really came in clutch about the entire thing. She was the one who picked out and paid for Jaspers flowers that he seemed to like quite a bit. Then she tried to encourage me on how to talk to him about all of this. Though none of them really have stable...Relationships. Or relationships to begin with.

After all the friend hanging out, and flower getting, and gift talking about? Jasper finally pulled up from the thinking or working he was doing at the time. Which is where things got worse before they got better. When we went inside we were both really mopey. Likely because we've both been rather sick and drained. He's just carrying it all better than I am. Or hiding his symptoms from me so I won't worry.

When we got in the house I kind of got overly frustrated, cried and raised my voice, paced. I could tell it was bothering him that he didn't know a solution to my problems. Nor that he knew how to help me right then. But, it wasn't his fault. All the stuff I had been bottling up for the last few days kind of exploded without an alcohol buffer there. We talked, finally, about all how I had been feeling. About how I missed him, how all my emotions were so intense, how I didn't know what to do. I didn't speak about sober doubts that I can recall now.

All that matters is that after I got it all out? I really did feel better. So much better, in fact, we chatted afterwards. About a few random bips and bobs, before I asked him if he'd teach me how to crochet!

And, damn. That mans amazing. How he's able to take just yarn and weave it into shapes. Or things! With nothing more than his fingers and a little hook is...is...a magic in of itself. I told him to his face and I'm writing it here that I'm rather certain he's a witch of sorts! I don't know how long I had been actually practicing myself before we got distracted, but he made it all look so easy! Maybe one day I'll pick it up again and see if I can't, oh, I don't know...make an actual square or something! Like he did! Granted he whipped one out in like a minute, maybe. But he has been doing this quite a bit longer than I have.

Then the funniest thing happened. We started kissing, as adults do, along with almost another...progression in our consenting adult intimacy. When MORRIGAN woke up! We don't think she saw anything or even registered what was going on, but. You should have seen the look on HIS FACE. The sudden terrified awkwardness that flourished over his features. By the Light I was absolutely positive I'd cease through laughter right then and there.

The poor thing had a stomach ache, but. It was an oddly...Funny and wholesome way to end the evening. Even if she had seen the two of us kissing, along with Jaspers hand...somewhere. I wouldn't change the interaction or the ending to tonight for the world.

At least through all the chaos happening, I didn't even register it was mothers day. Blessings come in painful packages sometimes, I guess.

Lynn

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sky-limits · 1 year

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{YVVO} July Prompt 2022 - A String of Bad Luck

Ka'altuhe sighed. Zayetem gathered on the shelves of her home, knocking bottles and herbs to the ground. They hopped around, snuffling the ground and everything else. "Shit!" Her hands flew to her head at the sight of the destruction inside her home. “I can't have anything nice…” At her words, the Zayetem twitched their little antennae, looking at the old healer, standing in her doorway, with anger on her face. “Al Samakt and Al Hasmel, grant me luck…and gratitude.” She walked inside inside her house and began to pick up the shattered bottles and vials of her potions, sweeping little bone fragments into her hands and brushing them into a bowl, sliding books back into place on her shelves and shooing the Zayetem out through the door and into the jungle outside.

Leafy greens swallowed the little rabbit-like creatures as they disappeared into the underbrush. Trees swayed softly in a breeze that covered the jungle of Bothea, and another day began. Ma'ni and Kubo rose over treetops that reached for it, stretching long shoulders and sloughing off the cold night, coming to drink up the rays as Ka’altuhe cleaned and hummed to herself, a wordless little song like Ibuem in the night dew. She was a healer in the world of Bothea, and spent her days and nights inside a hut she had constructed herself. She often left her home to gather herbs and items, animal skins and sand to heat into glass. When she came back there were always a few critters inside, sniffing items and stealing a few of them.

Ka’altuhe often had to shoo them out and back into the jungle, taking the stolen things back to their proper places, organizing and correcting what the animals had done to her home, but this time it had ended up worse than usual. Mixtures she had spent weeks brewing were splattered into the dry dust of the ground, draining away into the sands to never be seen again, feeding the hungry earth. Ka'altuhe grumbled to herself, sweeping up the infused powder into a spare jar. Maybe it would be useful later.

And this is how her day went, repairing her home, helping the odd customer or two. Ma'ni and Kubo were high in the sky, and she sat with her lunch, broth reversing her reflection back at her, half-shaven head and gold collar glimmering in the soup - and her stupor was broken when a voice called to her. "Hello?" The Yevat's tone was calm and melodic, voice deep and roughened by sands and desert winds that chafed against the throat. She stepped into view, her fur a sandy brown and armor scuffed. A large gash spread along her torso, dripping blood freely.

In the back of her mind, Ka'altuhe was rolling her eyes. More mess to clean up later. But she beckoned the young one inside, watching as her Siune followed close by. He looked more concerned than she thought he ought to be - weren't Siune known to be loyal? But not intelligent. "Hmph." The healer sat down with a groan, creaking in her old joints as she joined the huntress Yevat at the small table she had set up for healing. "Name?"

"Skaravital."

"How did you get this injury?"

The young Yevat frowned at that, shifting slightly in pain. Ka'altuhe raised her eyebrows. "Going to speak up?"

With a huff, Skaravital answered. "I tried to pet a Boka cub. I thought she was alone."

Ka'altuhe clicked her tongue, and got up to fetch healing supplies. "Well, at least we know you aren't poisoned, yes?" She trundled around with her armful of items, and set them down on the table when she had gathered what she wanted. There were a slew of items in front of her, and she knelt by Skaravital's side, humming softly as she bound and cleaned the wound.

Once the huntress had been fixed up, she paid Ka'altuhe - in honey. The healer accepted the jar, with joy she did not show on her face, and ushered the younger Yevat out.

Score one for Ka'altuhe, score one for the wild beasts...the healer was startled out of her thoughts by the sound of a pot crashing - the younger Yevat's Siune had knocked over an urn full of dried leaves. She shooed him out the door and began to pick them up, muttering curses under her breath.

Score two for wild beasts, it seemed. And of course, when she got back to her lunch, it was cold.

#YVVO #Ka'altuhe #Skaravital #yevat #sky's words

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

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heyyyooo!! I saw your post about you posting again, and I hope it's ok if I ask for a comfort post with all the obey me characters you write for

can you write an x reader where reader just sits down next to them one day, sighs and expresses how tired they are and explain that they're just barely hanging on by a thread and they're also on the verge of a mental breakdown.

and maybe have the character look at MC in absolute horror because MC always bottles up their emotions and theyve never outwardly told anyone how they actually feel.

( also, I'm so sorry if this doesnt make sense. )

oh um could MC talk really softly about their emotions?

anon asked: Hello! I hope your doing well. May I request OM bros reacting to gn mc who's having a burnout with their studies?(if you have done it do ignore or maybe drop link-?<:') )

the brothers with a burnt-out mc

includes: the brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .9k | rated g | m.list

a/n: combined two asks for this since they were similar!! thank you both for requesting and i hope you feel better soon! my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, or request so come say hi!!!!

please reblog! ! ! ! !

➳ lucifer feels really bad. how had not noticed? how long had this been going on, and how much work had he assigned to you when the last thing you wanted to do was do it? regret is clear in his eyes as he listens to you slowly and quietly describe your feelings. “i’m really sorry you feel this way,” he says, swallowing. “i’m sorry if i’ve made it any worse, what with the tasks i’ve been having you do.” you go to dispute the point, but he stops you. “i’ll grant you a break from your tasks for the time being. there’s nothing time-sensitive or important happening now anyway, and i, and my brothers, would be more than willing to pick up whatever work you do have. i’m always here for you if you need to talk, so just focus on relaxing and healing, okay?”

➳ mammon pulls you into a swift hug, his arms tightly locking around you. “it sucks to feel that way, doesn’t it?” he asks, and your eyes burn as you nod into his shoulder. “i’m sorry you have to deal with this. i can totally help ya on anything you need, and i’m always here for you, got that?” he rubs small circles into your back, the action more soothing than he could ever know. “let’s just take it easy for a few days. nothing needs to be done immediately, and i know you feel like you constantly have to be the best, but you’re the best when you’re not feeling like this. ya shouldn’t sacrifice your health for somethin’ like this.” your voice had been small when you were talking and he wants to quell any insecurity you may have about telling him.

➳ levi knows the feeling well, but he never could have guessed you were familiar with it. you always seemed so ready for anything, so excited to undertake new tasks and chores. he wonders now how much of it was an act. “i’m sorry you’re feeling like this, mc,” he says, earnestly looking into your eyes. “i’m no stranger to the feeling, and i know how draining it is. if you want to get away form all of that, you’re always welcome here. i’ve got no expectations for you, so if you want to come in here and just be, please do. we don’t even have to talk or anything.” you’ve calmed him down countless times, and he really wants to be able to return the feeling.

➳ satan grimaces. he’s always liked work, loved to bury himself in it, but even he can get exhausted. he supposes it’s no surprise you’re feeling this way- for too long you’d been pushing past your own limits to keep up with them, even though it wasn’t healthy. he’d noticed, of course, but with so many things moving through his head at once the thought was easily forgotten, pushed off to the side for something more immediate. he feels terrible for that now. could he have prevented you from feeling like this? “it truly saddens me you’re dealing with this,” he says softly. “i’d be more than willing to help you with your work and tasks. please, let me help you.”

➳ asmo gasps. you’d always seemed so cheerful and put together, capable of dealing with anything that had come your way! but to hear that for so long things had been building up without his knowledge… it feels terrible. he wishes you had come to him before this, let him help, but he can definitely understand wanting to deal with it alone. “mc, you’ve done so well,” he says, clasping your hands gently. “you definitely deserve a break. let me pamper you, give you the full experience. i think you’ll feel much better.” and even if you don’t want a spa or anything like that, he’s more than willing to come up with other things to help. you should never have to feel overwhelmed and tired like this!

➳ beel is at a loss for words. he hadn’t really considered you hid your emotions from him- you’d always seemed like such an open book. but now, he wondered how much of your true feelings you had hid. shaking his head, he squares his shoulders. now was the time to focus on you, not his own insecurities. “thank you for telling me, i know how hard that must have been.” he’s not the most eloquent, so it takes him a moment to put his thoughts together. “i’m really sorry you’ve been dealing with this and i want to help in any way i can. i think you hold yourself to this really high standard, but mc, it’s okay to ease up on yourself sometimes. i promise everyone here knows how hard you work. you really deserve a break, so please, use this to take one.”

➳ belphie never knew the weight on your shoulders. sure, he knew that you felt the expectations of not only lucifer, but also diavolo and solomon, but he could have never imagined you felt them this keenly. “if you need my help, i can totally give it,” he offers, though he knows how hard it can be for you to accept help from others, “and i know beel would love to assist you as well. you’re probably tired,” he says, referencing the bags under your eyes. “want to take a nap?” that’s what he always does to feel better (or, well, in any situation, but the sentiment still stands). you nod softly and he wastes no time ushering you to his room, where his warm and comforting blankets are waiting.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

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three times you interrupt george

warnings: none! my first fic with no language are you proud of me ;)

tags: georgenotfound x gn!reader

words: 1355

A/N: pretty much every fic i’ve posted has been written a minimum of an hour before i post it— my b. anyways george is soft and he makes me soft enjoy

requests/inbox status: open

The first time you barge in on George’s stream is about four months into your relationship. He is starting to get comfortable being his online persona around you, and suggests rather than get on your train at 1 am, you stay over. “Like a sleepover?” you ask and watch his cheeks start glowing pink.

Yes, exactly like a sleepover.

The sound of the bedroom door opening makes him pick up his water bottle and immediately turn off his camera and microphone, indistinguishable from the unannounced bathroom breaks he usually takes. Turning towards you slightly in his chair, an amused expression grows on his face. You’re barely awake, hovering in his doorway with a crinkled t-shirt and basketball shorts pulled on haphazardly in the dark on your way out of the bedroom. (You don’t sleep in pants. That’s for heathens.)

“Water,” you croak, arms stiff at your side and blinking wildly in the fluorescent lighting of his flat. He tries to hide his smirk and pads over to you, passing you his water bottle with a huff of a laugh. His hand drops to yours, grabbing and rubbing his thumb into your blanket-creased skin. You’re cold.

“I have extra blankets in the cupboard.” He doesn’t let go of your hand. You nod robotically, draining the nearingly lukewarm water through that straw and— he can almost see life return to your face. When you hand the empty bottle back to him, you’re licking your lips and squinting like you’re having a staring contest with the sun.

“I’m gonna go back to bed.” Your voice is thick with sleep, nasally like it always is in the morning. You lift to scratch a hand at your stomach and lean your head forward, bowing to George at an awkward angle. In a second he knows what you’re doing and grants you one (1) forehead kiss before you’re trundling off to the bedroom on legs that function like stilts.

“Sorry guys,” he sighs heavily when he’s back in his chair. “Took a minute long nap and I feel so refreshed.”

The second instance of interruption comes on a day when he’s too entranced in some bizarre Minecraft challenge (with his camera off, for focus reasons) to notice you.

You walk up the stairs, hand on the railing, and expect to find your boyfriend zonked out on the couch with six pillows behind his head and an eye mask. Instead, he’s at his desk, eye bags a lovely shade of violet, with rimrod posture, clicking furiously at his mouse. He’s silent when you pass him to drop your things off in the kitchen. Silent the whole time you go to the bathroom, and silent the whole time you’re making breakfast.

The distance between his flat and your own isn’t monumental, but it is enough to make you exhausted on the train ride over. (It doesn't take much, truthfully.) That’s why you book the tickets hilariously early in the morning and have a perfectly-timed nap. Still, you wake up from it ravenous. And George has a horrible habit of ordering take-away for every meal, so you grab a couple ingredients for breakfast at the mart you pass every couple of days you’re here.

Today it’s omelets and bruschetta toast. George jokes you’re related to Gordon Ramsey distantly for the amount of posh foods you cook; you say you just have taste. Half a dozen eggs, a few veggies, a bulb of garlic, and a loaf of bread is barely £15 at the mart down the road. The rest of the ingredients lie barely touched in his cabinets. You work quickly and have two plates filled with warm and delicious smelling food in the period it takes him to die one more time in Minecraft.

Wobbling two plates and a glass of orange juice on one arm, you approach the backside of his desk on careful and slow feet. When you set his plate and drink down next to him he catches you by the wrist and brings your forearm to his mouth, pressing a kiss there and looking up at you with those brown eyes.

“Thank you,” he mumbles against the sweetness of your skin and presses two more kisses to your wrist. He pulls away and takes a large sip from the orange juice before spam-clicking the shift button at a familiar green character. You leave his station with a smile, feeling warm.

“Y/N!” he calls, leaning back in his chair with a hand on his stomach. “C’mere. Please.”

“Bossy,” you mutter, but get up from your place on the couch and trot over to him with a huff.

“Tell Sapnap what you put in the omelet,” is all he says before passing you his headset and snaking an arm around your waist. You stumble towards him but manage to get the headphones on before Sapnap starts spewing about a breakfast burrito he ate last week that had jalapeños and onions in it. One thing you never thought you’d get to discuss with the man was your culinary prowess, but it seems today is the day of surprises— George helps you bake a batch of salted caramel brownies after finishing up work, too.

He doesn’t even catch anything on fire.

The third time you catch George working is right at the end of a Gang Beasts stream with Karl, Tina, and Corpse. He’s just finishing his last wave goodbye and ending the stream when you shudder through his front door with a small bag in your hand.

“Good news,” you announce through a grin. “My GNF candle came in.”

“Your what?” He laughs, closing the browser with a click and sleeping his monitor. You dig the item out and place it ceremoniously on the glass of his desk. His jaw drops.

“Isn’t that cool?” You ask excitedly, nearly bouncing on your feet.

“Oh my God.” He picks up the squat candle, lifting it to his nose to catch a sniff. Hm. Pine. “I wish I smelled like that.”

You just shrug and take it from him, darting into the kitchen to produce a lighter and light the wick quickly. You take a deep inhale when the flame sparks and stills.

“Yeah, that smells nothing like you. You smell more…” You trail off, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn in thought.

“Manly?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. You ponder that and just take another smell.

“More sweet. Much sweeter.”

“That’s cute,” he admits, getting up and disappearing into his bedroom.

“Are you gonna take a nap?” You set the candle down onto the countertop, making your way into his room like you own it. He’s at his closet, tugging off his sweatshirt.

“Yeah,” he answers, muffled by fabric, and finally gets the collar of the hoodie past his neck. “Care to join?” The hoodie goes into his laundry basket and he tugs the covers of his bed back, flashing you a look. You nod, flinging your shoes off and into the emptiness of his closet before crawling into the center of his bed and flopping down halfway onto him. He makes an unsatisfied noise and shuffles onto his stomach. Giggling, you roll into a sitting position and get yourself under the covers.

“Warm in here,” you mutter and get situated. His accompanying pillow is soft on your cheek when you twist onto your stomach and shove an arm underneath it. He just hums in agreement and stares at you. “Hold on.” You plant an elbow on the space between you two and manage to press a firm kiss on his cheek. Okay, perhaps two. If it’s three then George is colorblind.

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Anytime, darling,” is all you say before your eyes are closing and you’re breathing a sigh that deflates your chest.

A hand grapples up your arm, scrambling for your own. You just smile to yourself and offer your palm to him. He takes it wordlessly and squeezes twice before letting your tangle of fingers drop to the sheets.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D let me know what you think in the comments!

#georgenotfound #gnf #mcyt #georgenotfound x reader #gnf x reader #gnf x gn!reader #georgenotfound x gn!reader #gnf imagine #gnf fluff #gnf one shot #georgenotfound drabble #gnf x you #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #bubblyhoneyfics

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 4 years

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Hi! What is your very specific Twilight AU?

okay, so. New Moon.

party disaster, dumping her and dipping, all happens normally.

but THEN. Bella finds out she’s pregnant.

(and I know you’re thinking- pre-marital sex?!?! Edward would NEVER! but listen. I am the author now. I’ve been around Christians my whole life. shut up!)

so anyway after a million pregnancy tests and a lot of googling about vampire baby legends, Bella’s like...well this is probably gonna be a situation,

Nessie doesn’t have an insane growth rate here because I hate that, so she has a normal amount of time to prepare, and she’s very...aware that the birth is gonna be Rough at best. So she goes to Jacob

who is NOT a wolf yet but Is aware of the pack and the treaty, and they are closer friends already, and she’s like ‘hey. paranormal emergency. you’re the only person in this town who enables me. help.’

and Jacob’s like I’m Fucking Fifteen and goes and gets Leah, since she’s technically an adult and a girl

(ms. meyer How did you make one of leah’s only 3 character traits ‘upset she’s infertile’ and then not have her support bella’s choices in breaking dawn please make it make sense)

so they start brainstorming solutions and the best they can work with is. Bella’s gotta ride out the pregnancy in hiding. they have no way of knowing whether she can survive the pregnancy and the only clue they have about whether the baby will be a monster or not is from google searches, but they also can’t exactly take her to an obgyn when her uterus feels like it’s calcified and her ribs are getting broken and she seems to be craving blood

So, Leah’s got her own little place. Bella moves in there, telling Charlie she wants to move back in with Renee (she knows her parents would never willingly call each other so as long as she keeps up communicating with both of them they should be none the wiser of her growing a little dracula in Leah Clearwater’s basement).

Leah has already defected from the wolf pack at this point (because...the Cullen’s left and she didn’t really like any of the guys anyway lmao) so they don’t run the risk of them hearing her thoughts while she’s in wolf form. She goes out and hunts animals, brings them back and her and Jake drain the blood from them so Bella can drink it. All three of them find this extremely disgusting obviously but Jake’s loyal and a little bit lovestruck, Leah’s a supportive friend and queen, and Bella’s just trying to keep her and her baby alive, and none of them feel like trying to rob a blood bank

Bella is 100% certain the baby will just be a baby who happens to like blood, like she was in bd, but the tentative plan is that if a crazy soulless monster comes out of her Leah will...handle that...

Which neither are thrilled about, so Bella’s just trying to focus on staying positive. And between that, trying to survive and stay hidden, Bella doesn’t really have time to...Check Out the way she did in new moon. Like, she’s absolutely still depressed, and she’s still getting an occasional Edward hallucination because carrying a vampire baby counts as reckless in many books, but she’s just more...resigned and pissed than anything. She’ll have days like the ‘possibilities’ scene, but more often than not she’s just telling the Edward hallucination to go fuck himself when he’s begging her to find the real him so they can have Carlisle deal with the pregnancy

at some point, Seth gets roped into the whole mess (he’s prone to just breaking into his sister’s house) but since he’s like, 13 and The Best Baby Boy he’s immediately supportive. He didn’t even fucking know about the wolves and the vampires until he walked in on a six months pregnant Bella drinking blood while his sister and Jacob are hacking away at a dead deer, but he’s like...you know when you were 13 and sneaking around about Anything made you feel like the coolest person alive? point is he’s helpful

AND he can get away with spending a lot of time at Leah’s house without anyone finding it weird, unlike Jacob, so he starts spending most of his free time there keeping Bella company and brightening her day up

HE is the one who enables her when she comes up with the name Renesmee lmao

(just because she hates Edward doesn’t mean Esme ever did anything wrong!)

“bella I’ll throw you out of this house if you don’t come up with a real name” “leah she’s white you can’t just disrespect her culture like this omg”

anyway these four become the DORKIEST and WEIRDEST little family it’s cute

so then. labor.

it’s less...graphic than in bd because Bella hasn’t been actively dying the whole pregnancy and she doesn’t snap her spine in half, but it’s still. bad.

she essentially delivers a rock that Nessie then begins chewing her way out of. she’s actively bleeding out. Jacob’s having a panic attack. Leah made Seth watch so he would never have unprotected sex and the scare tactic is working. Leah’s covered in Bella’s blood which is not great considering she’s Holding A Rock That A Vampire Is Emerging From

Leah’s been taking classes and researching deliveries so she needs to stitch Bella up and see what else is wrong but Seth is rocking back and forth on the floor crying and Jacob’s screaming and pacing too fast to grab so she’s like. Bella babe I know you’re dying but you need to hold this thing for me ksjdfllksf

so while she’s handling That, Bella’s got this weird little rock in her arms and is watching the baby slowly fight it’s way out like this is a very fucked up egg or something and she’s just. overwhelmed. maybe it’s the blood loss but she’s looking at the messy, scrunchy little face and she’s already in love and envisioning their lives together.

and then, you know, the baby bites her,

she has just enough time to think ‘how did we not think to prepare for that’ before she can feel the venom coursing through her. it’s just as bad as she remembers from James’ bite but somehow...easier to tolerate. she blacks out pretty quickly

the other 3 notice and are like : 👁👄👁

Jacob...literally explodes into a wolf On Spot

Seth darts out the fucking door he’s seen enough for one day

Leah, sole holder of the braincell, realizes Nessie just bit and isn’t drinking from Bella, and deduces this is like...a survival instinct or something. the baby instinctively changes it’s mother first thing. weirdly...touching?

So she gets the baby and checks that everything is physically okay with Bella (apart from you know. changing species) and is like...guess this is an issue for 3 days from now Leah

more immediate pressing issues: screaming new born baby and oh, yeah, the giant red wolf in the basement,

“Jacob I know this is disorienting but if you break anything in my house I’ll fucking kill you”

she really just leaves the poor boy to go get the baby cleaned up and warm up some of the frozen blood they’ve got in her fridge (RUINING HER TUPPERWARE, BELLA)

she’s not worried about the wolf pack mind meld yet because she knows Sam took the guys on a mission way farther up the coast for a few days and they’ll be too far away to hear Jake. hopefully, by the time they get back, Bella will be awake and they’ll have made an escape plan by then

and as she’s bottle feeding blood to the baby she’s thrilled that it seems to be like...relatively normal and not s horrific monster or anything. mission: unwillingly murder my best friend’s baby has been successfully canceled

“Oh Goddamn it....Renesmee DOES fit you...”

Seth, from where he’s cowering behind the couch: “told you”

so, Jake eventually calms down, they spend the next few days cooing over Nessie and brainstorming how to handle Bella when she wakes up a vampire, and also nicknaming Nessie ‘Nessie’ because they know Bella will find that intolerable and they feel she deserves karmic punishment for stressing them out so much lmao

so, three days are up. Seth’s upstairs putting on a way-too-elaborate puppet show for the baby with not a care in the world. Leah and Jake are in the basement because they know Bella probably won’t want their wolf blood and their ready to phase in case she gets a little aggressive

but she just wakes up and is like. hey! how’s it going? where’s my baby?

sjdhfksdj they were expecting feral but Bella still has her super self-control. she didn’t even realize she’d changed into a vampire until they told her lmao

Bella’s a little too freaked out to try hunting yet so they give her some of the stored blood they’ve been feeding Ness and she’s like. good to go. Leah’s about to scream like have the elders been exaggerating this whole time or is Bella truly a freak??? lol

So, they spend a couple days just...relaxing, Bella and Renesmee bonding, they’re trying to come up with fun places Bella can move to with the baby so no one she knows finds out, and every now and then Leah and Jake go out and she tries to help him get the wolf thing under control

and then,,,,the pack get back from their mission early

and immediately are able to read Jacob’s mind

so they head over to Start Shit because there’s two bloodsuckers on their land but,

the pack not attacking because Jake imprinted on Renesmee? tired. the pack not attacking because Jake’s Alpha Genes have taken over and declared Nessie and Bella as part of his Pack and attacking would literally start a war? inspired

so they hash the whole thing out....ultimately Sam decides Bella is more of a victim than a threat, and since neither her or Nessie seem to be going on a bloodlust rampage any time soon...he decides to grant them immunity from the whole ‘kill the vampires’ rule. He’ll let her and her daughter stay in La Push as long as they agree to stick to animals and only hunt out of town. PLUS from what little Bella knows about the Volturi, she’s worried about them finding out about Nessie, so they’ll offer protection if that does happen, in exchange for her being able to help them with intel on any other vampire threats in the area (you know like. if a nomad is fucking stuff up in a nearby city, they’ll send her to talk to them first before deciding if they need to intervene. Sam has become acutely aware he has a lot of teens and kids in his pack, so he’s trying to keep them out of fights as much as possible)

anyway that’s the story of Nessie gaining like 17 chaotic as hell ride or die uncles,

let’s fast forward a bit

it’s like 15 years later. Bella’s not living with Leah anymore, but she’s got a cute apartment in a nearby town, and owns and runs a bookstore on the first floor of it. she got her ged and did college online and teaches night classes at a community college. She’s still in contact with her parents, who Adore the life out of Nessie. She still helps the pack out and they’re all close. Nessie is a handful but in a fun and lovable way. They go on little weekend trips whenever they have time. Bella’s happy.

but then a. Situation. arises.

basically, the Volturi have been made aware of some unknown vampire chasing others out of the pacific northwest and conspiring with shapeshifters. and you know when Aro gets curious he tends to spin things dramatically. who’s to say this vampire isn’t conspiring against all vampires? against them? why has no one’s special talents worked on her? he simply must find out.

Bella and the Pack get word and decide their best course of action for now is to go on the run. they’re not gonna be able to take on a whole army but if they can bide some time and lay low they might be able to figure something out

except Bella is like....I have a teenage hybrid that the Volturi don’t know about yet...it would be EXTREMELY irresponsible to take her with me

but she can’t send Nessie to Charlie or Renee because they don’t know about her...dietary restrictions. She can’t stay with Billy or anyone else in La Push because the Volturi might trace the pack’s scent there and discover her. She’s panicking, they have to leave in a few days max and she can’t find a safe place for her daughter

and then she’s like.....fuck.

she had run into Jasper a couple of years ago- they have the same forgery guy and were heading to his building around the same time as a coincidence. She promised to forgive him for the party incident if he promised not to tell Edward he saw her and that she’s a vampire now. He agreed, but then told her Edward’s been living on his own for a while now and insisted on giving her his number...she never could bring herself to call it or delete it...but now...if she wants to be 100% Nessie is safe and protected...

fuck

So, the past 15 years have been fairly rough for Edward

he’s still convinced leaving in order to save Bella was the best course of action, but like...the vampires canonically mate for life. that’s his soulmate. he’s absolutely miserable without her. he’s thought about cracking and going to find her again but he always talks himself out of it, convinced she’d just tell him she hates him or something

so as stated in his patented Edward Cullen Self Loathing Guide, first thing to do is isolate yourself from all the lovebirds you usually live with. Sure, he keeps in contact, but...not well. he’s currently living alone and posing as a university student. He’s not even really sure what he’s supposed to be majoring in. He’s mostly been in a haze since he left Forks.

and one day....he gets a call from an unknown number. he ignores it, thinking it’s a spam call. but then it calls like 8 more times in a row and he figures answering might be a bit smarter than simply throwing it at the wall

And Edward...swears he came back to life and immediately had a heart attack the second he hears Bella’s voice

He feels breathless and disoriented the whole conversation, trying to figure out if his memory did her voice any justice, trying to rush out 15 years worth of apologies, trying to comprehend she’s actually speaking to him.

But Bella’s very blunt on the phone. She doesn’t want to let herself get emotional. She’s on a time limit, and she has to focus on getting her daughter to safety

And Edward swears he somehow misheard her the first ten or so times she told him. He had a daughter? that wasn’t possible

“she has the audacity to be your Evil Twin so I’m pretty sure it’s possible”

so she gives him a rundown. she needs to go into hiding, no I don’t need your help with that, gives him details about Nessie, what she’s like, what she likes to do, her diet, her favorite color, how annoyed she is by this whole situation, “Edward I know you don’t love me anymore, but I remember how protective you were, and that’s what I need Nessie to have right now. She needs you right now” and Edward wants so badly to refute Bella’s claim of lost love, to tell her he has absolutely no idea how to be a parent, but...her tone is aching so much he can barely speak. He can’t let Bella down again, and he can’t let this little girl he foolishly created and left down anymore than he already has, either.

So he agrees, she tells him to be at the airport in a few days, and hangs up.

Edward loses about half a day staring at a wall in shock, before he jumps into preparations.

Bella told him while their daughter possessed some speed and strength, hunting was fairly dangerous for her. She was more delicate than his kind, and had a heartbeat. Reheated blood bags had been their best option, and she also needed human food as well. He also had to get a room ready for her- he wandered around stores for hours, reading young girls minds to see if there was any furniture or decorations that were universally liked- which was of course, fruitless, but he did manage to find a handful of things he was sure Bella would have liked at that age, and prayed for the best. He somehow got himself covered in purple paint that was a nightmare to get off. Bella had sent him some forged documents claiming Nessie was his younger sister he’d won custody of, and he got her enrolled in a nearby school. He lived every day leading up to her arrival staving off a panic attack.

it wasn’t until he was on the way to the airport that he realized he forgot to inform his family about this life update. they must’ve been on a hunting trip, because he got nothing but voicemails

imagine being Carlisle and you come home to a voicemail from your son who’s banished himself from the family that’s just like ‘hi. you’re a grandfather now. I’m having a nervous breakdown and might crash my car. call me back at your earliest convenience I suppose” like what would you DO

after he gets to the airport he starts panicking again, realizing Bella had never actually sent him a picture, worrying about how he’d find her, but then- he sees a tiny girl with untamed, dark red curls, features strikingly similar to his own that are pulled into the expression Bella always made when she was reading, absently chewing on her lip, and before she looks at him with her mother’s big brown eyes, he already knows who he’s looking at, and he’s certain if he was human his tear ducts would be having a fit right now

Renesmee, however, seems less willing to have an emotional meeting. She mumbles out a simple greeting before gathering up her bags and heading for the door, Edward rushing behind her to try and help

listen. the awkwardness of Charlie trying to connect with Bella. but 10000x worse because of Edward’s overthinking, self-deprecating ass and Nessie being like ‘ah yes the guy who broke my pregnant teenage mothers heart, fantastic’ lmao

the car ride is p a i n f u l. Edward’s trying so hard for light conversation and Nessie’s barely giving one word answers. Bella had warned her about the mind reading so she was carefully keeping her mind blocked, which Edward is trying very hard to be understanding about instead of annoyed, but By God does he want to know everything about her

when they get back to his place, she quietly thanks him for the room and then promptly locks him out of it lol. He spends the rest of the day just pacing back and forth until he realizes he should eventually feed her lmao

and that’s...kinda how the first couple weeks go. she only emerges from her room if he bribes her with food, she awkwardly tries to dodge his questions, he drives her to school and then begs her to tell him how it went when he picks her up, he spends his college classes distracted because he’s freaking out constantly about how to successfully bond with her. His favorite time of day now is night, because she can’t block her mind while she’s asleep, and even if her dreams are all nonsense they’re still...part of her that he gets to know.

His family keeps begging him to let them meet her, but he’s pushing back because if she’s this bad at adjusting to one new family member, how is she going to handle six more?

(meanwhile Alice and Rose started a group chat with her and are having a ball clowning Edward lmao)

wait ksjflksd I think this vine perfectly sums up the dynamic im envisioning https://youtu.be/wQZIUHNORHg

anyway they....very slowly make some progress. much too slowly for Edward’s taste, but hey.

Like he finds out snacks she likes. or jewelry she likes. stuff like that and just...wordlessly leaves it around for her lmao. he thinks it’s like trying not to startle a deer, Nessie thinks it’s more like a cat trying to gift you a dead mouse, but either way it’s weirdly endearing.

He notices she always has a huffy little frown when he picks her up on Wednesdays. So instead of begging her for an ounce of information of her school life, he asks her one Wednesday morning if she’s excited for the day and she admits she has an elective class every Wednesday with a girl she doesn’t get along with.

He gets her school photos (and Weeps) and realizes apart from her room the home is fairly barren of decorations, so he buys a bunch of picture frames and hangs up the school shots, and some pictures of the Cullen’s over the years, and the few he has of Bella that he could never bear to part with. Other than catching her smiling at the prom picture of her parents, Nessie doesn’t say anything- but the next time he comes home from hunting, there’s a pile of pictures of her growing up on the table, and he starts weeping all over again as he hangs them up

(there’s one of her and Bella hugging and looking at the camera with identical grins and joy in their eyes, he can’t help but put that in his room. He hopes one day he’ll get to see a scene like that in person)

He starts trying to get her out of her room a little more- he still hasn’t managed to a get a ‘favorites’ list out of her, so he starts playing movies Bella loved, to see if any of them lure her out. some do, some don’t- he got halfway through a Lord of the Rings marathon, which was Torture in his opinion, but then Ness came out and quietly asked if he could restart it and suddenly they became his favorite movies ever.

Bella’s not able to contact her on a set schedule or anything because of her situation (and you can bet your ass Edward’s contacted every vampire he knows and ordered them to help her out if they come across her or the Volturi), and Edward realizes that’s probably taking a toll on the girl, so he starts telling her stories of her mother when he knew her in Forks. She’s particularly amused by the blood typing incident- the first time Edward hears Nessie properly laugh, he literally starts crying on the spot

could you imagine the sheer panic if she ever gets so much as a cold

And yes, she’s still pissed on Bella’s behalf, and yes, she specifically blasts 70s music because Bella told her he hates it one time, and yes, if he looks at her like he’s a kicked puppy one more time she might claw his eyes out, and yes, she refuses to introduce him to her friends from school because she Knows everyone will then start asking her about her ‘hot brother’ and she can’t live with that and also can’t live with him knowing that so she told him if he ever introduces himself to any of her friends she’ll set him on fire, and yes, she’s homesick 95% of the time but...he’s growing on her. like a mold, or something.

(okay, maybe when Seth tried to analyze why Mamma Mia is her favorite musical, he might have had a point. half a point. quarter of a point. shut up.)

And Edward’s still trying to not have a panic attack every time she’s out of his sight- he’s got Carlisle keeping tabs on the Volturi for him, and it’s not exactly hard for him to keep track of her through other people’s minds- but she’s so tiny and her heartbeat is Too Fast and what if she inherited her mother’s unlucky streak??

but they’re toeing the line of co-existing peacefully and Edward’s scared to push it past that

then he has to, because it turns out he sent her to one of Those Schools where the parents have to be involved in the school in some way or another and Nessie’s Annoyed

sdkjfsdkjf she keeps trying to get him to just sign up for like pta meetings or something and he’s like ‘I need you to understand you are the only person in this town I actually know or like I Cannot survive around fundraiser moms I can’t’

so she’s like ugh fine I’m in the drama club

listen.....Stage Parent Edward Cullen.......the power this holds...

that’s right this whole post was an elaborate ruse for me to make a musical theater headcanon again lmao

no okay but seriously he starts off just helping build sets and stuff like that but then midway through the year their music teacher gets fired and the schools like begging him to take over because they can’t find someone in enough time that’ll know the music for the show they’re doing and he’s like “I need you to understand Nessie will never talk to me again if I start actually working at her school” and they’re like “She also will never talk to you again if we have to cancel the big musical, though” and he’s like. fuck.

silent treatment for a week and a half

lmao so now he’s trying to juggle being an overly-enthusiastic stage parent who’s making costumes and sets and kinda crying backstage when he sees his daughter in her costume with also being the music director for the damn show and trying to teach a bunch of kids how to read sheet music

one day he ended up in a coffee shop with the hair and makeup moms, gossiping about the cast’s love lives, and he literally doesn’t know how he got there

is it wrong to pass Nessie in class even though she’s putting all the wrong answers on the test but he Knows she knows the right answers and is only answering wrong to try and get a rise out of him

Bella sneaks into town to see the show- they thought it would push their luck if the pack came, but they sent an ungodly amount of flowers and candy. When she snuck into the house while Ness was sleeping she Was Not expecting to find Edward up to his elbows in sequins, trying to fix a bedazzler he accidentally broke in frustration, muttering under his breath about how if Nessie’s romantic opposite in the show doesn’t keep his thoughts clean he’s gonna kill him- and it just cracks her up. She WAS nervous about seeing Edward again but now she’s assured he’s still a dork lol

So Edward freaks when he sees her but they don’t wanna wake Ness up so they’re trying to be quiet but like. they’re going through it

Like Bella Wants to be pissed at him but she can’t, she still loves him- and while she can’t just get over what he did to her, it’s also not lost on her that ‘leaving to protect someone I love’ is literally what she had to do to her daughter

And Edward....Edward, who only left to give Bella a chance at a safe, human life, seeing Bella in front of him as a vampire, knowing it’s his fault she ended up that way and she had to go through it alone, had to raise a baby herself because he’d made it so hard to find him...knowing if he’d just pulled his head out of his ass he would have been able to be there for her...would be able to form a coherent sentence around his love right now, would have long and fond memories of Nessie’s childhood, likely wouldn’t have to watch Bella hide from the Volturi...he’s back in a self-loathing spiral already

But they haven’t seen each other in so long and they just don’t want to...deal with the unpleasantness right now, so they just push it aside. Bella helps Edward with the costumes. Edward fills her in on what she’s been missing with Nessie. Bella tells him some stuff about when Ness was younger. They just spend the night talking, and it feels like no time has past between them at all- which just makes the heartaches a little stronger

When Nessie wakes up to her mother there she’s ecstatic- bubbly and loud and glued to Bella’s hip all day, giving her in depth play-by-plays of her school and rehearsals and friends she’s made, bouncing on her toes all morning, hyper, giggly, and- it kind of breaks Edward’s heart a little, even though he knows he hasn’t really...earned this side of his daughter, yet.

(at least he got his wish of seeing their twin smiles in person)

(he wishes he could see them every second of every day)

so the girls spend the day catching up while Edward mostly feels like a thirdwheel, and then they have to get Ness over to the school so she can get ready

Bella decides to hang out around the school theater before the show actually starts- she leans against the wall next to the piano, the two talking in hushed tones while Edward runs through songs. Bella really missed watching him play- the only thing that managed to drag her away from it was when Nessie called her to the dressing room to help with a hair emergency

she didn’t talk to him much at intermission, her attention being stolen by the rest of the Cullen family (who had been Very Loudly supporting the show so far, she knew Ness was probably dying of embarrassment backstage)

after the show, the three went back to Edward’s and just...talked. Nessie was gushing about the show and eating while her parents assured her she was the greatest actress ever born, simple stuff like that. she fell asleep sandwiched in between them on the couch

Bella realizes she’s never going to be able to bring herself to leave again if Nessie wakes up, and tells Edward as much. He clearly doesn’t want her to go just yet either, but...she’s on the run, it’s not like she has much choice

He has so much he wants to say to her but he just- can’t. it’s not the right time. but he’s hoping she can see that in his eyes

Bella shifts Nessie off her shoulder so Edward can hold her, and she gives him a light kiss and says ‘thank you, Edward’ before disappearing in a flash. she needed to go before she lost her nerve.

Edward can’t bring himself to let Nessie out of his arms, so instead of carrying her to bed he just stays there, holding her, trying his best not to think that that could be the last time for a long time he’d ever see his Bella again, trying not to let thoughts of a life he gave up unwittingly consume him

okay I didn’t mean for this to be So Long so I’m cutting it here uhh...let me know if anyone wants a part 2? sorry lmao

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #edbella #twilight saga #asks #molly mumbles #elephantlovingmouse

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hopelesshawks · 2 years

Note

Hi Ren♡

When you have the time maybe a little Kaeya comforting reader after just having a few rough days?

Please and thank you♡

Ellaaa <3

Of course Love, I've got you. We could all use some Kaeya comfort every once in awhile. Hope you're doing well

Ended up doing gender neutral traveler!reader. No pronouns are used. I hope you like this <3

Warning for alcohol mention

The blog posting this is 18+, please have your age visible on your blog before following.

You've just left Jean's office, heaving a sigh as you head towards the exit of the Knight's of Favonius headquarters, when you crash head first into someone else. Gentle hands are the only thing that keep you from crashing to the ground and when you finally take the time to figure out who you'd managed to run into, you're met with dark skin, blue hair, one mischievous blue eye, and an eyepatch.

"Careful there traveler, you might hurt yourself," Kaeya chuckles as he steadies you.

"Sorry about that," you chuckle but it sounds exhausted and it makes Kaeya pause in front of you, blocking your path towards the door. His gaze is shrewd as he looks you over, like he's assessing you. Whatever criteria he's comparing you against you don't seem to pass muster because you watch a brief flash of something serious behind his eye before he's grinning that cheeky grin at you and promptly steering you the opposite way from the exit with a hand on your shoulder.

"I just bought a new bottle of sparkling wine and I've got dandelion wine in my office as well. You know what that means?" he asks you, never pausing for a second as he corrals you towards his office.

"No?"

"It means I've got all the makings for a glass or two of Death After Noon. You're, of course, under no obligation to have some but I can't very well drink alone, now can I?"

It's a tempting offer. It feels like you've been going non-stop the past few days and as glad as you've been to help out around Mondstadt, your battery had been long past drained for a little bit now.

"But I have commissions-"

"Your commissions can wait. This is a mission of highest priority after all! You're not going to leave me to drink all on my lonesome are you? I'd expect more sympathy from the hero of Mondstadt!"

"Alright, alright I can stick around for a little bit."

You stick around for hours.

You hadn't realized how wiped you were until Kaeya literally locked you in his office and made you slow down for a moment. He mostly talks at you and after a little while you realize he's doing it intentionally, allowing you the opportunity to just exist passively for the first time in what feels like a long time. Even though he'd lured you in under the guise of not wanting to drink alone he actually doesn't pour anything, in fact it's very possible he was lying about having bought more wine recently. You appreciate it all the same though. You find your eyes starting to droop shut and you'd feel bad about it if not for the fact that Kaeya had given you a fond smile when he noticed but made no other comment, a silent granting of permission.

Your breathing slowly starts to even out as you drift closer and closer to slumber but Kaeya must think you're already there because you hear the sound of him moving from behind his desk. You think he's going to leave the room but suddenly you feel his lips brush against your forehead.

"Sleep well little traveler. You deserve to rest."

The sweet, whispered words are the last thing you hear before you finally drift off to sleep.

A/N: I feel like this isn't a """traditional""" comforting fic? But it feels very much like Kaeya to be comforting in a way that doesn't seem overtly comforting. Like he's not holding you and telling you he loves you but he's giving you what he knows you need to be soothed. If that makes sense?? I hope it does and I hope you liked this

#hhrequests #hopeless.inbox #hopeless.moots #hopeless.ella #kaeya comfort #genshin comfort

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midnightmoonkiss · 3 years

Note

now you got me THINKING:

reader picking the lock to her holding cell for the hell of it, wandering the deck at night and catching deku muttering to himself, compass in one hand, tugging at his lips with the other, to which she helps him using scraps of knowledge she picked up from her snob of a father, learning her father was the the reason for a few of his scars in past battles, tracing them gently and explaining how she hates her life and blah blah bLha my brain rot is REALL

YESS OMFG???? HOLD ON I GOTTA.. GOTTA WRITE THIS..

Kidnapped By A Pirate (Cont.)

Pirate Deku X Fem! Reader

This basically is a continuation of this short fic, only going further into the early-on relationship between Captain Midoriya and you, (Y/N).

Category: fluff I guess?

Word Count: 2.3k

Just To Clarify:

This is a continuation

“You know,” His mellifluous voice startled you, “It’s awfully rude to stare.”

The sentence sliced through the silence of the night like the sharp sword resting upon his jutting hip.

The sea was calm and the moon was full, not a cloud in the sky. Stars shimmered brightly above, milky way weaving through each dot of light.

And here you stood, on a pirate ship.

Gathering your bearings, you inhale sharply through your nose, the salty scent of the sea nearly making you gag,

“It’s awfully rude to kidnap someone and throw them into a dirty old cell with no food or water as well.”

His hearty chuckle made you gulp, the tickling of butterflies has no place in your stomach. Not now. Preferably not ever with him, but most pirates did have this.. salacious charm to them.

“Very true…” He sighed, “Forgive me.”

The fact that you were having this conversation with his back infuriated you.

He didn’t care enough about your escape from your cell in the dead of night, when all his crewmen were asleep, to even pay you full attention.

It was as if he viewed you as the least frightening and threatless thing on this vessel, a harmless, stowaway mouse.

Swallowing the lump of logical fear lodged in your parched throat, you strung together all the courage you had on you with a flimsy string and strode over to him, hands fisting the fabric of your dress.

The pirate was leaning against the railing of his ship, staring down at a dirty compass resting in the palm of his large hand, lip pulled between his thumb and index finger and he studied the spinning of the needle trapped behind cracked glass.

His features from behind became clearer with every cautious step you took, messy green curls pulled into a ponytail, few strings of loose hair framing his chiseled face. He was practically glowing in the light of the moon that shone in front of him. Beautifully dangerous, like a barracuda.

“It’s broken.” You pointed out to him, the captain who wasn’t wearing a hat, an air of finality in your tone.

If he was plotting a course by a broken compass..

You were royally fucked.

You’d be lost at sea.

Would you ever see land again?

The nauseating rocking of the ship had you almost on your knees, praying. As the days went by, your sea legs grew, but you still weren’t used to it. You didn’t want to be used to it.

“It's only broken to those who don’t understand it,” He teased, sparing you a glance before returning his gaze down to the old piece of junk.

He didn’t seem to want to bother with taking you back down to your own personal hell, yet.

That was good enough for you.

You came up here for air, after all.

It was suffocating below deck.. The stench of mildew having made you sick.

Who knew you took fresh air for granted? Even if it was salty.

At least you could see the open sea and how the moon reflected on the murky water. It was enchanting, something out of a romance novel, but you wished you saw it under better circumstances.

Something about being on a piece of wood out where land was nowhere in sight and the bottom of the ocean was so far out of reach you couldn't even imagine it unnerved you.

You never understood seamen, or pirates, even.

They did this stuff for fun.

At least seamen did it as a way to make income.

The click of his tongue brought your attention back to the freckled man, murmurs under his breath only just now reaching your ears.

Directions and landmarks, sea terminology, things you didn't understand slipped past his chapped lips.. Until something you did know was uttered.

“You’re sailing for the port of Baringham? The low-profile port? That only deals with textiles?”

“Many questions for an answer you already know,” he quipped, “I’m taking you there.”

“How are you going to take me to a place where you cannot even plot a course to?”

Huffing, he finally turned his head to you, amusement written on his face along with a charming smile that would’ve made anyone swoon,

“Alright, you’ve got me.”

Pushing himself up with his cloth covered forearms, he moved to lean with his back against the rail, crossing his arms as he gave you a sliver of respect with direct eye contact.

You briefly considered pushing him over.

“I’m a bit lost.”

“Ah, so you admit it.”

Humming, you mimicked his action, crossing your arms under your chest.

“Fortunately for you, I happen to know where it is.”

“That so?” He mused, leaning toward you ever so slightly, panicked interest cracking through his calm, forest green eyes that you couldn't help but notice twinkle, “Care to tell me?”

“Mmm. I would… but what’s in it for me?”

“What is it that you want? Isn't your guaranteed freedom at said port enough?”

“No.”

“..” The captain was shocked into silence, clear amusement still written all over his face.

Combing his dirty fingers through his messy green locks, he gave you an inquisitive stare,

“Then what else?”

You thought for a moment. What else did you want?

You wanted many things, things of which he could not grant. No one could.

You’d have to settle for something else.

Something you would prefer.. suddenly, the sickness you felt when you were in that gross cell came to mind.

“Don’t put me back in that damned cell!” The shout bubbled up from nowhere, shocking even you, “And.. and water. I want water.” You mumbled out.

Silence settled into the night once more after your loud declaration.

Your face burned with pure embarrassment as he became the one to stare at you..

Until he started laughing.

The kind of boisterous and infectious laughter that forced you to look away from his regrettably handsome self.

“You have yourself a deal, princess!”

The title further made your cheeks burn, drawing your attention back to him just to meet his enchanting gaze.

It draws you in like a sailor to a mermaid.

“Now, mind telling me?”

Licking your lips, you pointed to the heavens, his eyes following, “Travel so the brightest star in the sky is behind you, and follow the little dipper. The port is due north from there.”

It was a route you didn’t mean to memorize years ago.

The loud snap of the compass being closed made you jump, composure temporarily lost yet again.

“Ahh..” His gaze flickered over the sky, no doubt seeing a plethora of routes with each familiar constellation as he mapped the one you spoke of.

“I see it now, silly me.”

Looking down at the deck, he rubbed the back of his sweaty neck, messing with the curly hair that fell loose. Would you be so bold as to think that he may be embarrassed?

He clapped a hand on your shoulder after pushing himself fully off the rail, the whisper of thanks fanning hotly across your ear as he climbed the creaking stairs to the helm, brown boots clicking on each step as he did so.

Spinning the wheel round, the ship croaked as it turned so that the north star fell behind.

“How did you know this course?”

His curiosity was natural. After all, how did you, daughter of a well-off navy general who had never stepped aboard a boat before, know the way to a port not many knew of?

The answer was simple, though it was an answer you didn't exactly wish to know. Cursed with knowledge as you would say, blessed would say the others.

“My father.” Bitterness stung your words, and Izuku whistled.

“Slimy piece of shit he is.” It was grumbled under your breath, and yet he still somehow heard you, offering a grunt of agreement, eyes focused ahead.

“I hate the bastard myself,” he seethed through his teeth, “I’d offer up all the rum and shillings I have to see his blood spill and stain my deck by my own hands.”

The fury that clung to each word he spoke sent shivers down your spine, his aura threatening as he fell to his thoughts.

“I have an obvious reason to hate him,”

“You do?”

Your childlike curiosity warmed his heart, bringing his attention back to you,

“You don’t get scars from nowhere, love.”

Your nose crinkled at the term of endearment, climbing the stairs yourself as you rolled your eyes.

“Your scars are hidden,”

“His scars mark my back.”

Blood drained from your face, bile creeping up your throat at the meaning.

You felt sick and disgusted with the blood that ran through your veins.

You hated being the daughter of a monster.

“Oh..” The whisper caught on the wind pulling at the sails.

Silence fell once more, the unbearable kind that made even his skin crawl with uncomfortableness.

Had the crew been awake, he probably would have laughed, grabbed a bottle of rum, and stumbled into his captains quarters to drink the memories away.. But his crew was asleep.

Oh, how he missed his first mate. He was the whole reason you were on his ship in the first place.

“Just your back?”

“Do you wish he gave me more?” Izuku chuckled, teasing you once again.

“No.” You huffed, furious he would even suggest such a thing.

“I have a few.. Mainly on my hand but I-”

His words died on his tongue, heart beating in his ears when he felt your much smaller and daintier hands grip his own, the only one covered in white scars.

He gulped as you traced the smooth cicatrix on his rough skin, a small blush on his cheeks, your touch soothing the pain behind each one.

Tears not his own fell onto his skin, rolling off and spattering onto the deck below, but he remained silent, allowing you to trace the scars over his forearm, not specifying which were and which were not created by your father.

He liked your touch.

“I hate him too.” Your words were raw with hatred, touch fading as you pulled away and yet he still felt the tingle of it under his skin.

He wanted more. He hadnt felt such gentleness in so long..

That doesn’t matter, though.

“Why?” He found himself asking.

Lips pressing into a frown, he watched the sea as you mindlessly walked around behind him, stories spilling past your fervent lips, stories that made silent anger bubble in his gut, stories that you had never told anyone before - that you were forced to keep inside yourself for so long that they spilled out without care.

His desire to burn that man's ship down, to watch as the bright flames engulf him and it, destined to forever be lost at the bottom of the sea, grew tenfold.

Deku, the infamous pirate, prided himself on not giving a shit half the time, but he couldn’t ignore the empathy he felt in the moment.

You both had a common enemy.

Two strangers.. Where’s the irony in that?

“I don't like you,” You started after finishing up your uncontrollable word vomit, stopping in your tracks, “But the fact that I find this kidnapping to be the most enjoyable days of my life because I’m away from him and all the power he possesses is concerning.”

Why you told this to an untrustworthy, murdering thief.. You had no idea.

Perhaps it was because you had a feeling he would understand after hearing you out.

Or maybe it was the fact that he was currently the only person you could say it to.

After kidnapping you, all he had said to you was ‘welcome aboard!’ before locking the cell you just escaped from days later.

You should hate him, you should wish him to hang like every other disgusting pirate out there, especially for snatching you from your home in the dead of night, transferring you from one cell to the next, but you don't.

You wouldn’t show that, though.

Many words weighed heavy in Izukus mind, words he was unsure if he could say, or if it’d be the right thing to say.

He wasn’t heartless like some assumed, he wasn’t this traitorous asshole stories floating around about him told, he was just a pirate with a kind heart and skilled hands.

He almost felt bad that he planned to give you back to your father.

He felt bad that for that first day you were aboard his ship, he had wicked ideas of marking and ruining you in so many ways your father would only ever look at you and see him.

It was a cruel way to get revenge, revenge through someone else.

Actually, maybe he was an asshole.

Right then and there, he decided that that would no longer be his course of action, not if he could help it.

Hell, he wanted to keep you as far away from your father as he could. Would he abandon his first mate? No. He’d devise some other plan. Maybe get you somewhere safe, ask for your dress, and then cover a scarecrow in said dress and use that as a tool to get him back.

It could work!

Or maybe not.

Nonetheless, plan A through D were just thrown overboard,

“Well,” He smacked the wooden wheel to get your attention,

“You’re a pretty little thing, so I like you.”

You scoffed, he continued,

“Consider yourself prisoner to your fathers enemy for a long time to come, because darlin’,”

He drawled, sauntering over to you as you instinctively backed up, only to be trapped against the railing.

His muscular arms caged you in, taller frame towering over you as electrifying green eyes intoxicated your soul and sent heat flashes up your body,

“I’m not gonna let you go so easily.”

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