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#i shall defend her with my life
peachhoneii · 9 months
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A criticism I have noticed/noted concerning Sydney and Carmen is one that I assumed was addressed in the show itself.
Sydney idolizes Carmen and does not see/notice his trauma/humanity. They're mentor/mentee.
I'd argue that Sydney very much sees Carmen as a flawed/imperfect human being that has dealt with trauma. However, as she is also emotionally avoidant and they are professionals, she avoids getting too close as to not cross over any professional boundaries.
Sydney respects Carmen deeply in their profession, but she knows and sees him for the person he is. He's flawed. He's trying but irrefutably flawed. And she works with it. She's also flawed, and he recognizes that.
As for his trauma, well, they are in a work environment. It's very rare for Sydney to cross over into that personal space, but when she does, as we see in Carmen's kitchen, she offers something I don't think Carmen really received from his family. Validation. She asks about what it felt like to get awarded/to get the stars, and there's this shit eating excitement/enthusiasm for him to tell his story.
We know Carmen's family got on his ass for leaving. They were proud of him, sure, but they also teased/mocked him for stepping out of the box and making a career for himself. He probably never got the chance to really deep dive into his experiences, at least the positive ones, and Sydney offers him a chance to do so without fear of judgment or ridicule. I find that very sweet.
She's become his safe space, in a way.
For the mentor/mentee thing, there is some credibility to that, but we can see in season two, the whole point is for Sydney to grow into being Carmen's equal. She's already his partner in The Bear. This isn't just the typical mentor/mentee relationship at this point. They are a team now, and she is his partner. That's why we see her so invested in The Bear's development, y'know.
I'd like to point out for the criticism aimed at Sydney for not recognizing the trauma in Carmen (which I feel is automatically false/she knows about Mikey/knows about Donna) can be said for Carmen to Sydney. He doesn't know about her baggage either, mostly due to her NOT telling him. She's not very forthcoming about her past/history, and Carmen has to ask a very specific question for her to even state "Yeah, my mom died".
I understand not liking Sydney or not enjoying her character for whatever reason. I am smitten with her. She's the bees knees and such a fascinating character, but I absolutely adore her character and how contrasting she is to Carmen despite being so similar to him.
They're both emotionally avoidant, but Carmen is much more openly emotional than Sydney is when it comes to revealing aspects of his character and history. Sydney keeps her secrets to her chest and has to be prompted to open up about them.
Also she's a very compassionate and kind young woman. She may not be nice and is very awkward about family/trauma but she is kind.
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radioactivemelody · 1 year
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looking at her isn't enough, i need her to be directly injected into my bloodstream
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drakoneve · 8 months
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A Dragon's Wrath
Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.
pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader
word count: 3k
warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey
a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair
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In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.
Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.
This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.
At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.
You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.
You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.
Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.
That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.
When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.
"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."
Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."
You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."
"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"
The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.
"I would like nothing more, Ser."
After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.
Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.
Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.
Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.
Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.
She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.
The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.
"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."
Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?
Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.
Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.
You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.
Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.
"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"
But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."
You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.
He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.
"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.
Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"
"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"
Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.
Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."
"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"
"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."
Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"
"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"
You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.
"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."
Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.
Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.
Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.
It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.
"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."
He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.
Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."
"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."
He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."
As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.
You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.
"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.
"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."
Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."
Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.
You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."
A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.
Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.
After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.
As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.
Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.
Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.
Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."
"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.
"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."
Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.
"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."
Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."
Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"
Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.
"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."
He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."
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Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.
His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.
"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."
You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.
"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."
Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.
"What have you planned, my love?"
You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."
The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.
You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.
"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.
Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."
You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.
"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."
Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."
You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."
Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."
"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."
And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.
You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"
He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.
"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."
So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.
Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.
Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.
Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.
"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"
You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."
Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"
"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."
You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.
Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.
"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."
You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.
You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.
The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.
"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."
He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."
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sunaluv · 1 year
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I need more “come get your man” posts👏 it doesn’t matter when but they give me life🗣️🗣️
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ask and you shall receive
part 1 part 2
pairings: bokuto, baji, sakusa
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BOKUTO
“me and kotaro would look good, no?”
the table consisting of you, your best friend, the girl and her best friend turned to look at the girl who hasn’t felt the need to hide her infatuation with your boyfriend.
“what are you talking about?” your best friend.
“i don’t know,” she twirled her locks around her finger, looking upwards in thought. “we’ve known each other nearly all our lives, i feel like it’s inevitable.”
again, silence.
“is that not your boyfriend talking to bokuto right now?”
the girl sighed. “i don’t care about him, after all i just settled. the one i really want is right there.”
you didn’t need to follow her finger to know where it was pointed. the sound of your boyfriends boisterous laughter reached your ears, such an opposing atmosphere to the one you were sat in right now.
‘at least one of us is enjoying ourselves’ you thought.
“he doesn’t think of you that way.”
the tension was suffocating as all three heads turned towards your stern scowl.
her eyes widened. “damn i kinda forgot you were his…” she waved her hand, refusing to acknowledge the fact that the man she wants has already been claimed. “when you’re done with him, send him my way yeah,”
whether the smirk on her face was joking or serious, you didn’t know and quite frankly didn’t care.
before you could retort, a loud voice called over to you. “baby, come here a sec!”
like a flipped switch, the loving smile oh so familiar to your kotaro made an appearance on your face as you left the table, itching to get as far away from the girl as possible.
she nervously watched as you engaged in conversation with your boyfriend and ‘what she settled for’. hands fiddled with themselves under the table as she watched you whisper something to the two, causing bokutos smile to drop, and her boyfriends eyes to harden in disbelief.
three pairs of eyes stared her down, one angry, one disappointed and one challenging.
there was no point in defending herself, she had already known you relayed her message on to her soon to be ex boyfriend, but what hurt more than being caught was the disappointed look that pierced her heart, the look coming straight from the man she loved.
BAJI
"hey girlie can i give you some advice real quick?"
you were dreading this. a small get-together with your boyfriend and his friends suddenly turned into a side eye fest when baji's self-proclaimed 'bestie' showed up. ever since the stern look over she gave you when she greeted you, you could tell she was bursting at the seams to give some 'girl to girl' advice on your outfit choice.
now that baji reluctantly left your side to hover in the kitchen, she made her move.
"i love your sense of fashion and stuff, you know how you just don't care what anyone thinks of your outfit, buttttttt i just wanted to let you know thank kei isn't into that stuff, he's more into the innocent barbie kinda look, d'ya get what I'm saying?"
you gave a once over at her outfit: oversized, pink sunglasses sat atop her dead straight blonde hair, she wore a bralette miniskirt two-piece with an oversized hoodie covering her arms.
not to stereotype, but she's describing herself. maybe not so much the innocence, but the barbie look described her for sure.
"he's also into blondes," she snapped her gum. " since we've been friends forever, i can tell you now all the girls he dated, or showed interest in were blonde. not to tell you to not be yourself or whatever..."
"maybe that's why he went for something different this time," you shrugged. "the ones before me didn't work out."
she played off her surprise with a laugh. "that would make sense yeah..." she tucked her hair behind her ear awkwardly, leaving awkward silence between you.
"why are you guys sitting in silence." keisuke made his presence known, holding two solo cups.
as he walked past, the girl leaned forward ready to thank your boyfriend for the drink, but he walked past her without looking back, making her shrink in embarrassment.
"for you, my lady." he bowed dramatically.
"you're so silly kei," you chuckled, pulling him into you. "hey do you like blondes?"
he almost got whiplash from your sudden change of topic. "i like what i like."
"and what do you like,"
"i like you... i guess"
"what do you mean 'you guess'" you jokingly mocked, hitting him lightly after setting your drink down.
"nothing, nothing" he chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. "why ask anyways?"
you subtly glanced at the girl who watched the whole interaction in silence, shooting her a smug smirk.
"no reason."
SAKUSA
"your boyfriends so good looking," a voice so quiet, you were sure you weren't meant to hear it.
you turned your head towards the manager's daughter who had the audacity.
she jolted at your hostility "did I say that out loud? whoops, I meant the guy next to him."
the practice match had now ended, and sakusa began to make his way towards you as the team now had their break.
"sakusa!" she waved him over, thrusting a bottle towards him. "good work out there, have a drink!"
"no thanks."
he walked passed her and straight towards you, taking the bottle you had brought with you from your shared home.
"would you like a towel?"
damn she was persistent
"no thanks" his voice remained the same. "i'd rather use things i can trust, from my own home."
she watched enviously as he took the towel from your hands, wiping the sweat from his chiselled face. not a word was spoken between you, but the warm and loving smiles and the faint blush covering his cheeks said enough.
"you know i can do so much more for you than she can," she started. "does it not make more sense to be with me? you literally play for my team."
though her words were sharp and precise, they didn't hit the intended target. your face held the same expression, save for the daring look you shot her, challenging her to continue.
before you could speak up to her, kiyoomi spoke.
"you know its better to date someone you love, right?" his mocking words took the same format she used. "and i don't play for you, i play for your father, and I'm sure he would love to hear about his bothersome daughter whose uncomfortable advances are messing with my play." he basically threatened.
if heartbreak had one expression, she would be wearing it. whether it was the way he declared he didn't love her or the way he used her trump card against her, her expression was firm, then slack, then firm again.
her open mouth twitched, debating on whether or not to try to win him back. 'to win his heart or to leave him be, to win his heart or to leave him be?'
'leave him be' she came to the conclusion.
smart girl.
though the tension lingered in the air, she did not speak for the remainder of the day, to you or kiyoomi at least.
"didn't know you had such a mouth on you, kiyo," you smirked, liking this new side of your boyfriend.
his big palm pressed to your face, pushing you away before you could see the way the red on his cheeks deepened.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 months
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[Tldr: Big spider wifey Yan and sweetie little human darling]
W...women... Tiny, kind-hearted Darling who welcomes the bitter rightful hier to their kingdom with open arms after she returns centuries after her trial and execution. Her new form frightens most, but Darling finds her piercing glowing eyes and ashened skin to be quite gorgeous. All those extra limbs she's grown would be wonderful for hugs. As the kingdom runs itself mad trying to find ways to defend themselves from the evil queen, Royal Darling is in their garden creating a bouquet of their favorite flowers to gift to her upon her arrival.
"You there... I've come to take what's mine. Give me my throne or I shall take it along with your head."
"...Okay! When is the wedding?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"T-the wedding?..... Seeing as I am the current ruler the only way you can become Queen now is if we are wed... Oh, is that not what you intended? I'm sorry... "
Darling knows the pain of being rejected by their people as well. Their dislike for their ruler has never reached the same scale as the former Queen's treacherous flock, but had there been anyone else left in Darling's family the crown would have been theirs. Nearly all of Darling's kin had been whipped out by some mysterious plague. Darling is all that's left and there have been whispers throughout the kingdom how unfit they are to wear the crowd for how soft hearted they are."
"hm, you are stronger than you appear. I suppose I can humor you for the rest of your natural life. I and the rest like me will outlive you and your people for eons...."
The Queen planned on killing Darling the day of their wedding. Did this fool truly believe she would want the last remaining member of that bastard bloodline who betrayed her to stay alive? It would be a spectacle for all to see, yet - as they day arrived her withered heart had changed its tune. Everyday since the Queen had agreed to Darling's proposal they waited outside her door with a fresh bouquet and handpicked fruits from their garden. They asked their servants to add minerals and rose petals to her water whenever she bathed so that the cracks in her skin hopefully never worsened. Though she never spoke back much in the beginning, Darling spoke to her as if they were already married.
It was almost.... endearing.
"Do you take this....woman to be your wife?"
"I do."
"And do you take this person to be your spouse?"
"....I do."
How humorous is it the Queen's rage was snuffed by a descendant of the people who made her as she is now. The new queen carries her adorable spouse in her arms every which way she goes. If her spies hear even a word of someone speaking ill of her angel for giving into her wishes so easily she'll have their tongue ripped out and fed to the hounds. The flower crown's Darling makes for her decay within a day's time atop her head yet she wears them with pride till the final petals falls.
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perlelune · 2 months
Text
Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | iii.
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Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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“So what’s your deal?” Festus Creed asks out of the blue. 
Your mouth opens in shock, a nervous laugh slipping out. “My deal?”
A mocking sneer twists his features. “Yeah, Coriolanus kept trying to get you to eat with us but you were being weird about it. If you hate us, just say so.”
While some snigger at the table, Coriolanus stares daggers at him. The mirth instantly vanishes from Festus’ face.
Clemensia bumps her elbow into his rib, chiding him, “Festus, come on,”
“I don’t…hate anyone,” you defend, your voice hardly above a whisper.
Clemensia flashes you a reassuring smile.
“Of course, you don’t. Coriolanus said you’re very sweet.”
Livia rolls her eyes.
“Ugh, whatever. Can we get back to discussing the Yuletide Ball?”
Surprise flutters through you. The name bears vague familiarity. It can be found in the archives detailing the history of the Capitol University. But it’d since long become a frivolity amidst concerns such as quelling the uprisings in the Districts. What’s a students’ dance in the face of war and famine?
“The Yuletide Ball? I thought this was an abolished tradition…I mean since the war.”
Excitement illuminates Livia’s face.
“We’re bringing back the tradition this year, thanks to Coriolanus here. He convinced the new dean.”
Coriolanus lowers his head in apparent humbleness.
“I just made a few good points and he couldn’t refuse me,” he shares. He turns to you, blue eyes sparkling.  “I’m pretty persuasive when I need to be.” A chill dances through you at his low, suggestive tone. 
To your relief, his attention switches to the rest of the table.
“It’s important to not let District scum ruin our way of life. Traditions must return.”
Livia smirks. “Spoken like a student body president.”
Coriolanus waves a dismissive hand but a hint of smugness lingers in his tone as he says, “Please, elections are only in a month.”
“And it’s obvious you’ll win,” Clemensia states.
He gives a light shrug.
“We shall see.”
Clemensia pivots to you.
“Ivy, Liv and I are on the Ball committee,” she preens, her face brightening. “You could join us if you want.”
You lick your lips. “I don’t know if I’d find the time with midterms coming up soon…”
Coriolanus’ fingertips graze your arm as he offers, “You should do it, angel. It’d be a good way to expand your social circle.”
“You mean her nonexistent circle,” Festus gibes.
The blond’s jaw clenches.
“Talk to her like that again and see what happens, Creed.”
Festus cowers, nervousness flickering on his face. He clears his throat.
“Sorry,” he says to you.
“It’s fine.”
Coriolanus’ fingers latch around your wrist as his steely gaze cuts into Festus.
“No, it’s not fine,” he articulates. 
Undisturbed by the altercation between the boys, Clemensia prattles on about the ball.
“We meet up every Saturday morning. We’re working on winter-themed decorations right now. It’ll be so fun. It takes forever to do though.” She looks at you with emphasis. “An extra set of hands would be really welcome.”
“Clemensia…”
“Call me Clemmie,” she interrupts. “All my friends do.”
Friends? You study her hand clasped around yours. The concept is a little foreign to you. You also ponder why someone like Clemensia, with her perfect silky mane and smooth, blemish-free face would want to befriend you. She is the girl everyone gravitates towards. Charismatic, smart and nice to boot. And you might as well be a fly on a wall, ignored on the best days.
You are so stunned that it takes a shamefully long time for the words to fall back on your tongue.
“Clemmie, I’m usually busy on Saturday.”
“Oh.” She deflates, her hold on your hand loosening. “I get it. Sorry I asked.”
The excitement on her face plummets. Immediately, you feel terrible. You’ve never missed a single Saturday of studying, using that time to break down your more complicated courses of the week. But Clemmie looks crestfallen.
Perhaps, this one time, you can adjust your plans a little. One Saturday won’t make a difference in the entire year.
“But…I can try to free up some time,” you offer.
She perks up with your response.
“Great. We’ll be expecting you then.”
Lunch then proceeds, the table resuming the lively debate they were having before you showed up. Festus maintains facts about his family’s role in the reconstruction after the war while Clemensia rolls her eyes. They go back and forth and you observe them, slightly fascinated by the exchange. It’s such a rare occurrence for you to be around others that you soak every bit of their interaction. You get the inkling this happens a lot between them, them ruffling each other’s feathers. Ivy and Livia get wrapped in their own secret conversation you don’t catch a single word of. Meanwhile, Coriolanus watches all of them, taking a bite of the food on his plate every once in a while. The way he eats is slow, nonchalant, almost like he couldn’t care less what’s on his plate. Even if he doesn’t interject at any point, he looks right at home at this table. Unlike you. You recline into silence, letting every minute fly by as you wait for lunch to be over. When it finally is, relief surges inside you. 
You mumble a quick goodbye and gather your things. Clemensia beams and waves at you while the others barely acknowledge your departure. 
You head for the hallways, trying not to allow your mind to linger on the strange, uncomfortable lunch. Still, your mind swirls. You curse yourself for every blunder and awkward moment. You told him you don’t belong, that you’re an outsider, and always will be. It’s painfully obvious. From the way you dress, talk, carry yourself, you have nothing in common with girls like Clemensia or Livia. There’s a vast chasm between you and them. He should have listened. It astounds you that you even let yourself get roped into joining Clemensia’s committee thing. Though perhaps that won’t be too much of a hassle. You’ll show up to keep your word, then sink back into your rigid study routine.
Coriolanus’ deep voice, a sound you’re now oddly familiar with, erupts behind you.
“Let me carry those for you,” he says, swiping the books in your arms before you can protest. He falls in pace with you, a gentle expression decorating his  handsome face.
You frown, the uncanny emptiness of your arms swelling your discomfort.
“You don’t have to-”
“I insist,” he interrupts, chuckling lightly when you try to reach for your books and he dodges you with ease. Your shoulders sag. Your strides hasten, an urgency limning your steps now. 
Coriolanus meets no issue with your escalating cadence. He easily keeps up with you, a subtle hint of mirth lurking in his cobalt gaze. 
“It wasn’t too much, was it?” he inquires. “I know they can be a lot but they’re all good people. I promise.”
A myriad of words weigh heavy on your tongue but you diplomatically swallow each, settling for a safe, innocuous remark.
“Clemmie was nice.”
The corners of the blond’s lips quirk skyward. 
“I told you she was.”
The statement hovers between the two of you for a while. Clemensia seems nice indeed. The rest of his friend group…perhaps a little less so. Possibly a bit more cutthroat and self-absorbed. Though you surmise it is a requirement to be a member of Panem’s elite.
No other word is traded between you and him as you make your way to the lecture hall. 
“This is me,” you announce.
You turn to Coriolanus, hands stretching towards your books. He makes no move to give them back. Your forehead creases.
He gives you a sluggish once-over before offering, “What if I drove you back home after your classes?”
You nibble your bottom lip, dismayed by his proposition. You’ve caught glimpses of his fancy new car, as you’re sure most have at the University. As heir apparent to the Plinth fortune, he gets to spend money as he likes. 
“I usually walk. It’s okay.” 
He gets a little closer. “Come on, angel. Just let me do something nice for you.”
You shrink until your back hits the wall, stunned when Coriolanus follows each of your steps.
“My last lecture is…Professor Bellweather tends to ramble,” you mumble, his proximity unnerving you. “I don’t…I don’t know when he’ll be done.”
He licks his lips.
“I’ll just wait for you, angel.”
He utters the words like it’s obvious. You gawk at him. It takes you a few minutes to retrieve your speech.
You scratch your arm, your frown accentuating.
“You really don’t have to. Like I said, walking home is fine.”
The gaze trained on your form sharpens.
“And I’m offering to take you home so you don’t have to exert yourself.” He bends over you, invading the already insufficient space between the two of you. “Has a friend never done something like that for you?”
“N-No,” you admit. 
His tone’s heavy with suggestion as he rasps, “So let me be your first then, angel.”
Your heart stumbles inside your chest. 
“I’m gonna be late for class,” you blurt out, attempting to brush past him. 
Coriolanus’ hand darts out, swiftly cinching around your wrist to stop you from leaving.
“I still don’t have an answer,” Coriolanus says.
You glance from his hand, tight around your wrist, to his determined gaze. Your throat goes dry.
“Okay, you can d-drive me back home.”
He releases your wrist and returns your books, a smile ghosting over his lips.
“Wonderful. I’ll come get you later, angel.”
Clutching your books against your chest, you watch him glide away.
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As promised, Coriolanus is waiting for you when you exit from your last class. You don’t even think to hide your shock as you find the blond leaning against the wall. A smirk unfans on his lips, your reaction seeming to amuse him.
He doesn’t say much to you as you walk side by side and head to his car. When you’re outside, he surprises you by opening the passenger door for you before you can even lift a hand. 
“T-Thanks,” you stammer. You plop down on the plush seat. The leather smells new and expensive.
Your nerves thrum as he takes the driver’s seat and starts the car. You’ve never been alone in a car with a boy before. Uneasy, you let your eyes roam outside the window. The Capitol’s high buildings blur past you rapidly. 
You’re lost in your thoughts when you notice the prickling sensation over your flesh, The burning, unwavering weight of Coriolanus Snow’s scrutiny. 
Your head whirls.
Bashful words quake through your lips.
“Do I have something on my face?” Your hands reach to touch it, just in case.
He chuckles.
“No,” he replies, shrugging. “It’s a nice face that’s all.”
The casual compliment sends a wave of heat through your body. 
“Can you drive?” he asks, curiosity lighting his features.
You shake your head. Getting your license has never been a priority. Besides, it’s only a thirty minute walk to get to the University. You don’t mind it, often using that time to sneak in some reading.
“No.”
“I could drive you if you like,” he offers, his gaze holding yours. “Anywhere you want to go.”
Your cheeks warm. “I’m okay.”
Coriolanus nods, his focus shifting back to the road.
“You always say that…” He hums low in his throat. “I’m just not sure I believe it, angel.”
You’re so nervous the entire drive that you don’t even notice when he arrives at your house. You stare at him, mouth agape. You haven’t given him a single instruction on how to get there.
“You know where I live?”
As he opens the door for you, Coriolanus simply replies, “You told me earlier.”
Your brows furrow. You don’t remember telling him but his tone harbors no doubt. You rummage through your brain, seeking the moment. Nothing comes up and you grow confused. 
You blink up at him.
“I-I did?”
“Yes, you did, angel.” He snorts as if your line of questioning is beyond ludicrous. “How else would I know?” He slams the door of the car as you rise. “Besides…Dr. Gaul is my mentor. Of course, I know where she lives.”
You nod. That makes sense and it didn’t even occur to you.
“I…”
He cocks his head. “What?”
You fidget beneath his stare, discomfort flaring in the pit of your stomach. 
“Nothing. Thanks for driving me home.”
He flashes you a wide smile.
“My pleasure. See you soon, angel.”
He starts the car and drives away. You don’t feel quite at ease until his car’s gone from view, heading towards the Corso.
Walter zooms across the room as soon as you enter the large apartment. Your eyes wander about. As usual, the place is empty besides you and Walter. Mother rarely spends any time here nowadays, her work occupying all of her time. 
Walter rubs his furry head against your ankle, twirling around you as he meows. He then stands on his hind legs and starts gently raking his claws across your leg. A way for him to demand that you pet him. A small smile tugging your lips, you pick him up. The orange ball of fur purrs, curling against your chest as you carry him in your arms. You make your way to the kitchen and pour a mix of leftover meat and fish in his bowl. 
You set him down on the floor. His tail wiggles as he hops to his food.
You crouch next to him.
“You wouldn’t believe what happened today, Walter,” you say while giving gentle pets to his back. “I was invited to their table.” The orange cat pauses his eating to stare up at you blankly. “Yes. Theirs,” you repeat as if he could understand you. He gives a long meow before focusing on his bowl again. You sigh. “I know. I thought the same thing.”
Once Walter’s emptied his bowl, you pick him up again and make your way to the living room. 
You collapse on the couch.
“And then…Coriolanus Snow drove me home. Yes, the Coriolanus Snow. I didn’t even think he knew I existed.”
For a while, you remain on the couch, stroking Walter’s fur as he sits on your lap. His tail whips the air, his eyes closing as you pet him. His soft rumble of content reverberates against your belly, amplifying when your fingers drag behind his pointed white ears. You lean back, a blanket of peace settling over you. 
Walter’s not just a strange-looking cat, he’s also a rescue…from your mother’s experiments. A kitten mutt with mismatched eyes, one blue and one yellow, his mushed, wrinkled face gives him a passing resemblance to a rodent. Pets like him are a rarity in today’s world as most creatures such as him were eaten during the First Rebellion. 
Your mother finds him appalling. In her eyes, he is a failed experiment. Like you. Perhaps it’s why you have such kinship with the creature. You still recall her unsettling glance in your direction the day she asked the entire class of nine-year-olds at the Academy if they had pets they were sick of. She then proceeded to burn the flesh off a lab rat to demonstrate her pulsed energy laser.
This moment is burned into your mind forever, your mother’s clinical tone chilling your blood.
You stole Walter from the Citadel and took him home that same day.
You were careful to hide him, though you suspect your mother figured out what you did. She likely added it to her long list of disappointments when it comes to you.
Sometimes, you envy Walter. The simplicity his days hinge upon. His obliviousness to the woes of the world. His uncanny ability to sleep through the chaos of it, ignore the disarray. Walter’s world consists of food, play and cuddles. 
What a blissful existence. You bet Walter never had a vexing thought in his short life.
The train of your thoughts is interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone.
You carefully remove Walter from your lap. He meows in protest and jumps off the couch. You pick up the phone, chest clenching as a familiar face fills the flickering screen.
“Mother,” you greet. “How are you?”
She ignores your question, curtly stating, “You’re falling behind in Molecular Cell Biology.”
You know that tone all too well, the warning laced within it so achingly familiar.
Your fingers twist around the phone cord, your voice becoming small.
“I’ll get my grades up, I promise.”
Silence hovers between you and your mother for a while. Faint hope sparks within you. Perking up, you decide to tell her about your day.
“Oh, mother, today-”
“I must go,” she interrupts. “It’s time for my milk and cookies.”
Your spirits plummet. You nudge a hollow smile onto your face.
“Right. I didn’t realize,” you say, checking the clock hanging on the wall. “I’m sorry.”
She heaves out a deep sigh, her lone blue eye narrowing.
“Focus on your studies. And try not to be even more of an embarrassment to me than you already are.”
“Y-Yes, mother,” you reply, your heart shriveling inside your chest.
As she hangs up, you feel silly and horrible. Silly for trying to strike up a normal conversation with your mother. And horrible for letting her down once more.
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“You came!” Clemensia exclaims as she rushes to you. You try not to tense as she gives you a tight hug. Ivy and Livia linger in the background, their eyes lifting from the crafts’ table. 
You wave at them and are surprised when Ivy wiggles her fingers at you. Livia is more withdrawn, nodding to acknowledge your presence but quickly returning to her task.
You step out of Clemensia’s embrace and flash a quick smile.
“Well I promised you that I would,” you reply nonchalantly. You take a look around the room. Various decorations and posters are propped against the walls, while snowflakes cut-outs and what looks like moon dust are scattered on the table. It seems the girls have been busy.
You turn to Clemensia. “What’s the theme again?” 
Ivy surprises you by answering cheerfully, “Well, it’ll be like a Winter daydream and we were thinking of making it a masquerade.”
Excitement sways in Clemensia’s bright eyes. “What do you think?”
“Sounds nice.” Your trite answer draws every gaze in the room to you. Awkwardly bouncing on your feet, you correct yourself, beaming at Clemensia. “I meant amazing.”
“I think so too,” she chimes.
She shows you the empty chair next to hers. The both of you sit down and she starts rambling about the theme and all the ideas she has to decorate the ballroom. You grow dizzy with all the information, trying to follow along her instructions at the same time. 
“We’ll need to find you a date,” Clemensia says. 
You shake the can of blue paint before spraying over the tree cut-out.
“It’s okay. I probably won’t be going anyway,” you respond absently. 
The pencil in Livia’s hand snaps. Your head rises. The blonde’s gaping at you. You then realize…the same look of disbelief is etched on all the girls’ features. A frown mars your brow. Did you say something wrong? You didn’t realize this was such an important event. 
A nervous laugh peals off Clemensia’s red-painted lips.
“No, but you have to,” she says, “It’s the first Yuletide Ball in over a decade. Everyone will be there.”
You shrug. “It’s four months away, Clemmie.”
Her onyx gaze shimmers.
“Well, a lot can happen in four months,” she sings, a mysterious smile spreading onto her lips.
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gentrychild · 6 months
Text
BNHA 407 : AFO is a lying liar who lies
Today is a very sad day because I am about to do something I genuinely dislike: I am about to defend All for One. In order to cope, I shall make fun of him the whole time.
AFO and Yoichi's backstory is finally out, with AFO narrating it, and there are two possibilities: he is either completely lying about it (boring) or he is lying a little about it (very in-character for him) because he is also lying to himself.
Lie number 1: AFO was born evil.
The narrator (AFO, seriously, it's AFO) says things such as "The baby drained the lifeforce of both his mom and his brother.", "It was born an arrogant baby." and such but it really reads at AFO villifying himself to add to his own legend.
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That's what babies do. Children, before they're born, kinda have to take their strength from their mother. That's why pregnant people aren't supposed to do anything taxing.
AFO and Yoichi's mother didn't die because baby AFO drained her like a vampire. She died because she was a homeless woman who had access to nothing and had to go in labor alone.
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Same thing here: during twin birth, a twin is often bigger than the other (well, probably not to extent of Yoichi and AFO, but you get my point).
Lie number 2: AFO, as a demon baby, is shown killing for no reason, just because he can.
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(First slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)
There are two things that are strange in this scene (apart from... you know.... a baby murdering people...)
AFO had no reason to go after them because they don't have any quirks to steal.
It makes no sense for someone to attack a group of people with nothing to gain. I doubt that's the kind of behavior you have when you're in survival mode as you're barely surviving in the street.
However, a previous panel points at some context we might be missing.
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The same panel that indicates that those guys don't have a quirk to steal also shows that they are wiling to do some "preventive attack" on a bunch of quirked people who might or might not be those who assaulted a protest group (reminder that in this context, that protest group are protesting the rights for quirked people to exist).
I could be wrong but odds are that they did something to be qualified as a threat to All for One and we are missing the additional context.
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(Second slaughter by Baby AFO shown in that chapter.)
Now, the poor souls who just got absolutely wrecked by a toddler wearing what I suspect to be a garbage bag have quirks, which makes more sense than the previous scene.
However (and thank you for @aimportantdragoncollector for pointing that out to me), we also have this panel.)
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Yoichi is shown with bruises on his face and might be broken teeth.
Probably because those same people AFO is shown killing attacked him.
Lie number 3: AFO never loved Yoichi because he can't love, he just considered that he was his. That's all. Nothing more.
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(Just... Just ignore the rats.)
AFO didn't care about Yoichi so much that the very conscious first act of his life might have been to swim a river upstream while dragging his brother above the surface with what must have been the deathgrip of all deathgrip.
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AFO didn't care about his brother so much that Yoichi was fed and clothed by an AFO who was malnourished enough for his ribs to show and who wore what's basically an improvised toga.
But he just keeps sacrificing what little he has for someone he doesn't care about one bit, that's just his first possession. Nothing more.
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Okay, I am going to be clear: anyone who sees that panel and thinks that it's the proof AFO didn't like his brother... You just outed yourself as an only child.
Siblings punt each other for no reason. (There is a reason why the first recorded murderer was an older sibling.) In this case, the reason was Yoichi throwing a can at him.
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AFO: "You're not inviting me to a fun activity? You're leaving me out, in the cold, unable to partake in brother bonding activity? Oh, vault for Little Brother! Vault for Little Brother for one thousand years!"
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AFO: "Nevermind, we're reading together. All is well, I guess."
Lie number 3: AFO killed the glowing baby for power, because he could, or because the Glowing Baby didn't deserve it
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Still laughing about AFO's flawless reasoning... "Comic books heroes' life suck. Better to be a villain. I already did the whole struggle thing, I want an easy life."
AFO killed the glowing baby because he was jealous. It's as simple as that. The glowing baby was considered the first official quirked individual (even though it's not true), was protected by his family (if I remember correctly, the mother of quirks was his mom) while AFO and Yoichi had no one but each other (EDIT: I was wrong, the Mother of Quirks was Destro's mother. thanks to the people in the tags), and had a ton of people following him (while, for some strange reason, people start running away screaming when AFO shows his quirk... What a mystery...).
The last panel was basically AFO saying "I want to be loved' but not having the frame of reference to even know what love is.
In conclusion...
While AFO is definitely a bad guy and a monster, he didn't begin his existence as one. He just wants people to believe that. Because his pride and his ego can't allow him to admit that he lived a childhood full of horrible trauma where he was a victim abandoned by society (to an even greater extent than the LOV) or he would probably combust out of rage and mortification.
Ergo facto, AFO is a lying liar who lies, especially to himself.
942 notes · View notes
azulpitlane · 5 months
Note
got love stuck part 3 please i’m begging it’s so good i need it
out of the woods I ln4
pairing: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: in which lando has to communicate his insecurities but is he too late? notes: ask and you shall receive, this one took a while cause I had it all written out then I hated it and started over😇but this is the last part!! i loved making this thank u for being so supportive considering part one was my first ever post!! now send some requests hehe part one, part two, masterlist
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lando i fucked up, its too late
danny ric what do you mean its too late?
lando i texted her and no response she went to dinner with mason tonight they're probably still together right now
danny ric okay so you're jumping into conclusions AGAIN you have to have some faith in her mate and stop assuming the worst
lando she was with her ex after our breakup what am I suppose to do?
danny ric communicate, you muppet you can't just give up after one try
lando okay okay you're right, i was overthinking im booking the next flight to london
danny ric um i was thinking maybe a phone call?
lando too late, already booked it
dailymail
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102,339 likes
dailymail Trouble in paradise? Singer Y/n Y/l/n and F1 driver Lando Norris reunited in London today. Onlookers claim the two were having a heated conversation about their relationship and it is unclear whether the two are currently together or not. Was this argument result of Y/l/n's infidelity? The singer was spotted twice within this month with ex boyfriend, Mason Mount. Read more on the singer's relationship timeline with Mount and Norris in our article linked in the bio.
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user yes lets just make assumptions that y/n is a cheater based on nothing🙄
user if lando took her back ill be so mad. shes so toxic
user you have no idea what shes like in real life? you're just basing your opinion on some stupid tabloid that constantly spreads misinformation on her
user WAR IS OVER (THEYRE STILL TOGETHER IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS).
user YUP Y/N AND LANDO DEFENDER TIL I DIE user SAME IM CONVINCED SHE NEVER CHEATED IDC IDC
user this doesn't even look like a heated argument to me?? y'all be doing too much
user please let this be just a friendly conversation and her and mason got back together☹️
user its been a year, I think its time to move on from that relationship user yup!! shes clearly moved on y'all need to do it too user her relationship with lando has been messy from the start, she never had to deal with this drama with mason that's all im sayin
user this page is obsessed with y/n!! leave my girl aloneeee
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, masonmount and 5,283,239 others
yourusername out of the woods out now.
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selenagomez on repeat already💙 liked by yourusername
user WAIT WHOS THE GUY IN THE LAST SLIDE
user HAS TO BE LANDO user praying its mase but I have a feeling its lando☹️
user the way these lyrics can apply to both mason or lando so we have no clue who its about🧍‍♀️
user and they both liked aghhhh!!!!
danielricciardo amazing song, so so proud liked by yourusername
francisca.cgomes can't stop listening im obsessed😍 liked by yourusername
user okay danny and the wags are all commenting this is a good sign for us lando and y/n defenders
alexandrasaintmleux you're so talented I love it!! liked by yourusername
user y/n dropping this after being seen with lando again, I think its time for us mason defenders to retire :(
landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 920,482 others
landonorris want you for worse or for better, would wait forever and ever tagged yourusername
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user YES WE CAN FINALLY SAY WAR IS OVER
user I KNEW IT YES
yourusername and that's how it works💙
user these are definitely song lyrics AHHHH user landos listened to the new album omfsgnks user new album is gonna be mix of love and breakup songs with the drama methinks
user MOM AND DAD ARE DONE FIGHTING
maxfewtrell sap
user careful lando, once a cheater always a cheater
user where is the proof of her cheating?? there literally is none user they literally broke up after she was seen with mason user give up this narrative already!! her and lando are clearly happy together so who cares
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 7,284,234 others
yourusername these past few weeks have felt like a crazy, emotional train wreck but there's nobody else I would've rather done it with than my best friend and lover💙 i usually never address anything like this but there are somethings that aren't easy to shake off especially when it comes to my relationship and my loyalty being questioned. there has never been somebody who has been so perfect for me and i would never trade this love for anybody elses. i could go on and on about it but i find it easier to communicate through music.
my new album is out tonight at midnight, it is a collection of songs written from last year to now. interpret the songs as you like but just know there is only one person im in love with right now.
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user OMFG WEVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS
user she just nicely told all mason x y/n supporters to stfu
user not only that but she beat the cheater allegations🙏
user THIS IS SO CUTE WHAT
user "would never trade this love for anybody elses" IMCRYIN
landonorris love you so so much, dont know what I would do without you
yourusername lan love u more🥹 user AWWW user nobody can be a mason x y/n fan after this cause they are too cute
landonorris this album is amazing, im so incredibly proud of you and everything you've been through liked by yourusername
carlossainz55 very excited for this one liked by yourusername
masonmount this was very well said, congrats on the new album!! liked by yourusername
user OMG? user in their besties era omdfsnkln user I knew they were just friends through all this!!!
user okay officially retiring the mason x y/n agenda..it was a good run
user def the end of an era but our girl is happy🫶
user now that the drama is over can we focus on how good this album is gonna be
user fr the drought is officially over
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, yourbff and 3,232,325 others
yourusername the love for my new album has been insane, thank you guys so much!! so many records broken just on the first day of the release and i couldn't have done it without you guys💙
now it is time to hibernate for a little bit and spend some much needed time off with my loved ones so this is a lil goodbye... for now!
see ya later
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user NO COME BACK
user gave us some lando content before dipping, thank u mother
user she took 'I know places we won't be found' to a whole different level because nobody can find out where theyre vacationing
user good!! they need some privacy after this messy drama
landonorris got you all to myself now
maxfewtrell gross yourusername perv
kellypiquet ❤️‍🩹 liked by yourusername
user but will we see you at the paddock next season🥹
yourusername ofc!! catch me rooting for my babyyy
user what a crazy era. hopefully well get some performances and lando supporting after this break
landonorris will be front row at every show user wag and rockstar's bf. try not to say parents challenge omg user can't wait for the content of them supporting each other at races and concerts ahhh
yourbff pls dont make me an auntie soon im too young
yourusername okay im officially logging off.
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tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77@landowecanbewc
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
Text
pairing: aemond targaryen x handmaid!reader
summary: “she is pregnant.” his queen mother’s palm slams heavily down on the dark council table, loud as a thunderclap. “she is pregnant! aemond!”
warnings: explicit language. angst. protective!aemond being a hot hypocrite and defending his bastard. fluff towards the end. i can't make alicent a villain in this, i just can't (sorry not sorry).
notes: a lot of ppl requested alicent's reaction to handmaid getting pregnant, so here it is.
his handmaid's tales | main masterlist
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“She is pregnant.”
His queen mother’s palm slams heavily down on the dark council table, loud as a thunderclap. “She is pregnant! Aemond!” and her voice only loudens, “I brought her for you to have as your handmaid, not your bedmate! Seven hells, Aemond! She was not meant to be your personal whore to toy around with whenever you felt bored!”
Aemond feels his lips slightly twitch at her words. “She is not a whore, mother, nor will I stand here and allow for you to insult her.”
“AEMOND!”
The other councilors remain silent, doing their finest in pretending that they were somewhere else. Aemond knows he would have none of their support or backing in this- he is alone in defending his beloved handmaid and their child. Gods give me peace. Two moons back, Lord Tyland Lannister offered up his niece as a wife. Now he sits with his hands wringed together, shaking his head and sneaking him a scowl. He could only imagine the lord’s thoughts of him.
No doubt they’d all be ill-pleasant.
His mother sighs. “Might it be too late to sneak her the moon tea, Grand Maester?” she asks.
“I would say so, your Grace.” Grand Maester Orwyle clears his throat. “The handmaid, she is already a month or so pregnant, mayhap even two. You could give her the tea, but it might risk harm on both the mother and babe, perhaps even an unsavory death…”
“Death...?” Aemond repeats, aghast.
Her face falls into her hands, and she heaves a deep breath before glancing around the council table. The men all shift uncomfortably.
“Might you consider sending her away, my Queen?” Lord Tyland proposes with a sly smile. “Perhaps back home?”
Aemond’s head quickly snaps to Lord Tyland, violet eye narrowing. His fist clenches tightly at his side, near the dagger sheathed on his belt, at his waistline. “You would not dare separate them from me,” he tells him coldly. “She now carries my babe, my heir, and I will not allow her to leave my side!”
“She carries your bastard in her belly, Aemond,” Otto begins, slowly, carefully. He lays a soft hand on Aemond’s sleeve, giving him a pitiful smile. “There is quite a difference between a realm’s legitimate heir and a bastard. I understand you are taken with the girl, my prince, and that she is good and kind to you. But, at the end of the day, you remain a Targaryen prince, who will wed when the time comes. How might your lady wife feel if she were to learn your servant mothered your bastards?”
Aemond shrugs. “Then I shall take her as my wife.”
“You cannot wed her, Aemond!” His mother shakes her head, as if he is some absentminded child. She looks much older too, as if the news aged her a good ten years in one night. He suddenly feels a tad guilty. “How many times must we discuss this! Your father will not allow nor bless this union, and neither will I! Damn you, Aemond! She is a baseborn girl- your damn handmaid! Her duty is to serve you as a servant, not a wife.”
“And yet-“ Aemond replies, trying to keep the scorn out of his voice, “-she treats me far better than everyone in this very room.” At that, his mother has enough shame to blush red. He continues, “I love her, and she loves me. Is that not enough? Does that not make you happy? My entire life, mother, I’ve done everything that was expected of me. I’ve studied and trained and fulfilled every princely obligation of mine while your firstborn flouts to do as he pleases! Aegon shames Helaena every night with an empty bed yet you refuse to acknowledge such! And yet, when I find love and happiness, you’re ready to punish me.”
He levels his bright purple eye to his mother’s face. “I love you, mother, but I love her as well, and I will not live a life without her.” And Aemond’s all but ready to collapse to his knees, to beg and plead her acceptance. It is the only one that truly matters amongst everyone else's.
Afterward, his mother sits in silence, staring down at her hands. The skin stretched around her nailbeds are both red and tender, and she wears only her wedding ring on the right. She turns to face her king husband’s Hand. “Well, there it is, father.”
“It makes little difference, my Queen.” Lord Wylde and Lord Tyland murmured in agreement.
“But would it truly be wise to separate father from child, Lord Hand?” Lord Beesbury asks, pointing at the Hand, white eyebrows arched high. Otto Hightower raises his own eyebrow in return. “She is lowborn, yes, but a royal babe still sleeps in her womb.”
"A bastard, Lord Beesbury, mothered by the daughter of a milk cow."
A milk cow? Aemond blinks, momentarily confused. But before he could say anything further, his mother makes her final judgment on the matter.
The queen slowly rests her elbow on the table before plopping her chin atop her palm. “My son’s to be a father,” she says, a faint smile twisting on her lips. She repeats it again, almost like she doesn’t believe it. “A father…” Aemond feels a bit of hope blossoming inside his chest. “Pray tell, would you rather me separate him from his trueborn child? The child that is still his child, his own blood, bastard or not. We can argue on this matter till we are purple in the face, my lords, but the truth still remains,” she declares, before taking Aemond’s hand in hers, thin fingers laced with his.
“Take me to see her, son.”
At once, multiple voices arise in protest. His grandsire calls his mother’s name, but she ignores him as she stands to her feet. “I do beg your pardon, my lords, but I must see my grandchild.” Aemond bows, victorious, and turns on his heel without another word, feeling all eyes on his back as he strolls from the council chambers with his mother, her hand still in his. The doors closing shut behind them silences all the lords, and his mother sighs.
“My sincerest apologies, my dear Aemond, for referring to her as a whore,” she says, earnestly. “I know she is far from that, and I must say I’m rather fond of her.”
Outside, Ser Criston Cole was stationed, wearing his long white cloak of the Kingsguard. He gives the two a curious look but remains silent and still, straightening his shoulders when they pass by him. Aemond wonders if he overheard the small council’s session, and whether he agrees more with his mother or grandsire.
It does not matter, Aemond decides, pressing a soft kiss to his mother’s knuckles, in a show of forgiveness that makes her smile. He loves her too much to remain irate and frustrated with her, especially once she mentioned her soft spot for his girl. His queen mother- good and fair to the smallfolk- is the same with his handmaid. And his future children as well, he hopes.
“You’ll be a wonderful father,” she tells him, tucking a long strand of silver hair behind his ear. “And I mean it.”
He brings her to his bedchamber, where his handmaid sits on the settee, dutifully sewing up one of his tunics. When they arrive at his doors, she’s quick to bolt onto her feet, falling into a small courtesy. She wears a thick and ugly serving dress that hides her swelling belly underneath but does little to dull her beauty.
“My queen! My prince…”
Aemond takes her arm, pulling her alongside him. “My mother wishes to speak to you, my love,” he explains, gazing down into her eyes. His thumb strokes her cheekbone before he takes a step back, and his mother takes his place.
Before her, his love trembles, and he knows she’s awfully scared. It breaks his heart a little. He forewarned her of the small council’s gathering this morning, and how the maester told the queen of her pregnancy and the decision that would likely be made. She cried that entire night he held her, and neither got a wink of sleep.
“Your Grace…!” she sputters in a quavering voice, hand dropping to her tummy. “I beg of you…”
But his mother says nothing, instead cradling his sweet girl’s pretty face within her hands before leaning to kiss her temple. When she pulls back, her big brown eyes are soft and kind. “You’ll make a lovely mother, my dear,” she mumbles, and it is enough for his handmaid to break into a sob, falling limp as Queen Alicent holds her close, running a hand up and down her back.
“Thank you!” she cries through jagged gasps and wheezes. “I was so scared. I- thank you, my Queen, thank you. Thank you!”
His mother gently lifts her face upwards, wiping away the fat tears streaking down her cheeks. “Shhh, there was little to worry about, sweetling,” she coos. “Aemond wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, believe me. A man in love, with everything to lose, is perhaps the fiercest warrior to be found on the battlefield.”
Perhaps?
Aemond watches as his mother comforts his handmaid, mouthing small praises and pleasantries while stroking her hair back, doing her best in calming her down until her eyes are dry. Several minutes later, the two women are discussing the babe, with Queen Alicent sharing memories of the early days of her own pregnancies. The sight before him makes his heart swell in his breast, and he then recalls the words exchanged back in the council chambers.
I’m to be a father, and hopefully a husband soon.
He crosses his hands behind his back, smiling..
It seems to be true, he thinks, that there is indeed no more beautiful sight than your woman swelling with your baby.
But no one spoke of the beauty that follows when your mother accepts her grandchild for the first time, and the blinding glow that brightens your woman’s face when she realizes such has happened.
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tag list for "his handmaid's tales": @aemondsblog @dc-marvel-girl96 @neobanguniverse @missalycat21 @enchantingcupcakecollectionfan @padfooteyes @alexizodd @avidreader73 @the-common-cowgirl @inlovewithhisblueeyes @elegantsplendour @katzarantos @fan-goddess @okfashionista @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @mochimommy2002 @fangirlninja67
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mournings-stars · 3 months
Note
Hello hello! I’d like to request some platonic into romantic headcannons on an Alastor x fallen ex-exorcist/exterminator reader please :>
Small background: Reader fell for whatever reason and maybe a few days to a week (or even months-) afterward they end up striking a deal with Alastor, where they’ll be under his protection (because as skilled as they are it wouldn’t matter much with the entirety of hell on their ass) but he gets a pretty good portion of their power in return or maybe something else that you think Alastor would take.
Gender neutral reader pls
I’ve only read one fic or two with this concept and I am on my hands and knees for more lol
If you prefer a different writing format or feel this is too specific or OC-ish please please please feel free to change anything! I’m not very picky ^^
Thank you for your time and have a good day/night!
okay i LOVE this concept — i think it be the slowest fucking burn in the world tho like
you were never one of adam’s favorites, as you had the tendency to spare demons who seem harmless, but covered it nearly everytime
during this last extermination, however, he was trying to catch you fucking up the plan, so the minute you skipped over someone, he had lute launch her weapon at you
i doubt he’d let her kill you or anything, but he definitely just left you there for the demons to finish off, probably pinned to the ground with lute’s spear in your wing or something before he called all the other exorcists back (and he made sure to leave your halo so even if you did change clothes people knew what you were)
luckily (not really) you’d be in cannibal town, so before anyone could get to you, alastor’s probably just walking around like nothings happening (LMAO) and sees you
i doubt he’d make it known he saw you, like he’d definitely keep humming merrily down the street until he saw you struggling to get away from him as quickly as possible and tearing your wing even more
“my, my, let’s calm down, shall we?” he’d laugh and take the spear out of your wing. “isn’t that better, little bird?” but he’d say that while literally pointing the spear at you so don’t feel too safe
you’d definitely get defensive and shoot into the air with your weapon, ready to kill, and i think after seeing you still attempting to fly with that damaged of a wing (like its fucked up), he’d be impressed enough to drop the spear he had with a very big grin
“you’d better hide, little bird”
and you’d take his warning to fly off, quickly snatching lute’s weapon with yours in case you needed to defend yourself
he would literally just smile and watch you leave before continuing to hum and walk down the street
it’d probably be like a solid three days of hiding and having to fight for your life before the damage to your wing really messed with you and you had to force yourself to find a good hiding place
maybe you see charlie on the news and notice that no one seems to want to go to her hotel, so you force yourself to fly all the way there like a week after her horrible interview (ep 1) and practically collapse at the front door
of course you recognize vaggie and of course you practically run over and hug her despite the spear pointed at you… and of course that means vaggie either may or may not have to confess depending on if you pick up that no one knows or not (off the concept but im sparing chaggie heartbreak)
“who the fuck is this?” would be the first thing you hear from a spider demon and you’d have to explain what you were and hope they didn’t kill you — which, duh, charlie wouldn’t that let happen
“hello again, little bird,” would make everyone shut up because… how does alastor know you??? of course, he doesn’t answer their questions, just says hello and moves on like it’s all normal
your first day would totally be catching up with vaggie, probably breaking down because you needed to get back to heaven and had no way there
i think exorcists probably have a little bit of angelic power, but they probably can’t create portals without that power being given to them or something which means you have no way home and no where to go
vaggie and charlie of course tell you to stay, but once anyone shows up they’ll know you’re here and all of hell would be coming to the hotel to try and get to you — and you didn’t want to ruin what they had going (even if it was small you thought it was a great idea) so they probably give you a change of clothes, something more hellish, and tell you to stay until you have somewhere else to go
that would probably give alastor the perfect opportunity to talk to you privately and offer his protection
you wouldn’t take his offer at first, but once pentious shows up and the overlords somehow find out that charlie is hiding an angel in her hotel (vox and his stupid drones) you dont really have a choice
i dont think he’d ask for any power in return, but i do think you’d owe him a favor each time he has to protect you
vox would probably give subtle hints in all the programs he runs, so alastor would have to protect you very often
that meant if he ordered you to get rid of someone, you did it — whether that meant by the snap of your fingers with holy light (which they could potentially survive or respawn from) or killing them with your exorcist weapon was totally up to him sometimes, he just asked that you create a bouquet of flowers for his room
usually the people he had you “take care of” were repulsive enough, and you never minded creating things with your abilities, so you agreed to what he asked with ease
it’d be a little time before who he instructed you to “take care of” slowly shifted to anyone who wronged you
of course, he’d still protect you, but if he didn’t own their soul and he didnt have an angelic weapon, he couldn’t ensure that they wouldn’t come back, so he asked you, “do you think they’ll come back for you, little bird?” if you were unsure, or knew it was likely they’d come back for the person that ended up being the reason they had to go through the painful process of respawning, he’d tell you to just kill them
it’d probably come to a point where he stopped asking for favors, made sure you were alright, and told you to focus on what you needed to do while he “did his job”
i think eventually you’d find a place you think could be safe and once your wing is totally healed up and alright you’d say your goodbyes even though you weren’t that close with anyone but vaggie (also i feel like niffty would be down to talk to u about her bug battles or some shit)
anyway, when you go to say bye to alastor, he definitely cashes in his favor with a simple “hmm, no” cus he sees no reason for you to leave??? like so what everyone else’s lives are in danger by you being here… you’re safer here
so you’d stay, and it’d definitely make charlie happy because if she can get an angel back to heaven that’d prove she could actually do this
you’d be pissed at alastor for a while, but slowly, it seemed like demons understood that by coming for you, they were fucking with the radio demon (and we all know how that goes) so after a few months you were finally left alone
in that time you’d totally help spruce up the hotel while slowly forgetting why you wanted to go back
but every once in a while you’d have a very prolonged sadness about the situation… heaven was your home after all, and even if you liked the hotel, you could never leave because the minute you stepped outside, there was a line for your head — you were trapped there (like a bird in a cage — hence the nickname)
i think even though everyone likes having you there, vaggie would eventually bring up lucifer (like he can literally open a portal…)
but immediately alastor is not fucking having it and he cashes in another one of his pent up favors, saying that getting back to heaven through a fallen angel was the dumbest thing you could do if you wanted it to look like you were the one wronged in this situation (he has a point i fear)
i think this is where you kind of accept that you’re not going home and maybe just give up because 1. you can’t go to the heaven embassy since you’d just be met with adam and 2. the only person that could get you contact wasn’t a good option
i think now would be when alastor recognizes how much you want to go home and finds himself feeling bad?? for keeping you, but he just wants you to get home safely and surely
still, once he sees that you literally wont leave your room and have contemplated taking your own halo he compromises to let you try going to the heaven embassy to see if you could get a meeting with anyone but adam
you said it wasn’t possible, but he insisted “i can’t have you looking so upset all the time, birdie” he’d say while using his hand to squish your cheeks into a smile just to make you laugh
so you’d go — i think you’d totally get there safely but once demons see an exorcist angel coming out of the heaven embassy, you have to fight the minute you step out of the building
you can 100% see holy light from the hotel, so the minute alastor sees a golden beam he’s out the door
you can handle your own, so you fought them off, but i’d imagine you get injured and that’s what really makes alastor realize he’s falling for you cus he’s seething
even just a minuscule amount of golden blood on you had him tearing apart any demon who even looked like they’d been near you
i hate to say it but i don’t think this would be a happy ending — reader loves heaven even though they hate being an exorcist and alastor knows that so he’d definitely keep his feelings hidden and if you showed any signs of feelings for him he’d be terrified because an angel falling, literally falling because thats what would happen to you, for someone like him would never get you back home
obviously it’d come to a point where he doesn’t want you to leave, but at the same time, he’d never keep you
if i did end up writing an actual fic of this it’d probably end on a bit of a cliffhanger ex. reader getting accepted back and being hesitant with alastor’s last favor just him saying, “if you want to stay for anyone, don’t,” and letting you decide whether or not to go back
OR reader being accepted back but still having to be an exorcist, so the next time they see alastor is the finale where adam would 100% put them against him
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hyperfixat · 6 months
Text
okay first of all hiiii genshin community this is my first ever fic for the fandom and i’ve only been playing for about a month and a half TT although i am already at AR 50, so i’m decently confident in writing this.
this is taking place in a self aware genshin alternate universe where the reader has been accused of being an imposter; aka imposter!au. contains fontaine characters >:3
btw. while i am in fontaine’s archon quest, i know little about wrio… and the fortress of meropide, so i took some liberties. and i’m not a lawyer or anything so. expect errors.
600+ Words.
You don’t think this is how prisoners should be treated, what with the heavy white iron shackles, tightly welded around your ankles, wrists, neck, and midriff. It’s excessive, really. Nameless guards and Wriothesley himself escort you to the opera house where your trial shall be held.
As you’re dragged along, you pass hordes of not just Fontaine’s citizens, but international crowds have gathered to see you fall.
You don’t have much hope.
The accusations against you are… grim, it seems. Stealing the face and body of the divine, what is that even supposed to mean? This is your body, how you’ve always been. You can’t even imagine what sort of divine being would sentence someone to… death(?) for simply bearing a striking resemblance to them. The court shall see.
You’d been so excited to see these characters, especially the beautiful Fontainians, but now as you catch sight of Neuvillette, nothing but bitter fear and dread fill you.
Those eyes; gray, blue, purple, undoubtedly gorgeous, are serious, befitting the Iudex. Though you never thought you would be surveyed under them.
“Order in the court.” Neuvillette calls out as the packed audience quiets down from their excited buzz. Furina holds a hand over her chest dramatically, waltzing to the edge of her balcony.
“Will the prosecution please state the reasons behind today’s trial? Lady Furina?” Neuvillette prompts the lady.
“Indeed.” She agrees grandly. “The guilty—!”
“Accused.” Neuvillette interjects.
“Accused,” Furina repeats. “Is charged with attempting to infiltrate the rightful spot of the Creator, a grave sin.”
The crowd boos.
“Don’t worry, my dear citizens and travelers from afar, we will see justice delivered to this sinner!”
“Order.” Neuvillette calls and the crowd hushes. “Will the prosecution present evidence to support their claim?”
“Look at them, Monsieur Neuvillette! The whole room can clearly see that they have crafted themself a mirror image of our true god!” The room rumbles in agreement. Your brow knits with worry, unsure of how (if) you’ll get out of this situation.
Neuvillette turn his gaze solely onto you, looking down from his seat as judge. A few moments of his scrutiny pass. “Defendant, can you refute these claims?”
You try.
“I don’t know what’s going on. I swear on my life, I haven’t intended to offend anyone, this is just how I look. No one will call me by my name—.”
“Boo!” Lady Furina calls from her seat, hushing when Neuvillette sends a sharp look her way.
“—I will admit I’m not from this world, but I don’t know how to explain any of that. I haven’t meant to do any harm.” You look to the crowd. “I’m sorry.”
The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale shifts, one of the weights pulling down, you aren’t sure if it’s in your favor, and doubt it is.
“Is that all from the defendant?” It is. No lawyer would dare represent you, not even a public defense attorney.
“We turn to the judgment of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale to give us the results of this trial.” With his words the machine rumbles and the sides of the scale quickly move up and down. It settle in the middle and a slip of paper slides out.
“Our defendant is…” the room simultaneously brings in a breath of air. Neuvillette’s voice chokes up. “Innocent.”
“No!” “Impossible!” “Fraudulent!”
“Oh, give me a break.” You moan at the reactions.
Lady Furina, narrows her eyes at you. “Let us settle this with a duel!”
The guards that led you here begin gathering your chains and you panic.
“Wait! Please!” You cry out one last desperate attempt. Neuvillette pauses, looking at you from the side of his eye. The hand holding the oratrice’s results stills.
“Do the words Genshin Impact mean anything to you?”
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highwayorgantrade · 8 months
Text
Safe House
Pairing: Female Reader! X Soap
Request: Nooo
Summary: Oh no! A bunch of soldiers posted up in your farmhouse bed and breakfast?? Whatever shall you do!! Should you fuck them??
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: Overstimulation, begging, volume (keep quiet), unprotected sex, cervix kissing 
Author's note: Okay listen y'all I did not plan on doing this whatsoever. I was in the middle of writing a Graves thing when I got this idea and I knew I just had to get that damn little brain worm out before it ruined my life further. This is gonna be a series!!!!!
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The mission had gone wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong. 141 thought they were smart by teaming up with Los Vaqueros again to take down a trafficking ring - “Positive international relations,” Price had called it. “We even got imported muscle.” He grinned, referring to the 6’10” man they had called in, after hearing of his ability to do his job and keep his mouth shut.
 However, the ring had decided on the same tactic, bringing in a nearby cartel to defend their location. Quickly, way too quickly, the group was overwhelmed, frantically phoning in to Laswell for extraction.
“Don’t worry,” She sighed, after directing the seven men to a relatively safe area, the black-tinted SUV already flying gravel. “I have a friend.”
You had just so happened to be the friend. Well, the relative was more accurate, being her sister-in-law. You knew what she did for work, but you never thought she would call on you for help with it.
“Please, (Y/N), it’ll only be for a few days, I swear. A week, tops.” She called you early one November morning. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” And you knew she wouldn’t. The fact was simple: You had lived relatively nearby, and the bed and breakfast you operated and lived in certainly had the facilities to house eight people, and it so happened to be the off-season.
You were eager to accept, happy to help your sister, and it would be nice to have some muscle with the chores that needed done around the property. When the SUV pulled up, you quickly regretted your decision. You had expected a house full of military boys, tearing around like a pack of dogs, but out stepped six of the most attractive men you have ever seen, all completely different, but equally as handsome and rugged. Two were masked, but Christ, were they big anyway. As they loaded packs out of the van, you stepped into the grass, the cold air causing you to draw your cardigan tighter around yourself. When you approached, you kept a safe distance - partly because you didn’t know them, but also because you were afraid that if you got too close, you’d get lost in the intricacies of their faces.
“Hey!” You spoke finally, the rustling of the dying leaves nearly drowning you out. “I’m (Y/N), I hope the trip out wasn’t too awful!” You internally cringed at yourself for giving them the usual spiel you reserved for guests, but continued anyway. “Come on in, all the rooms are pretty much the same, but you can pick, so… that’s something.”
“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” One of them finally spoke, casting a friendly grin your way, and you turned quickly to hide the burning on your cheeks. 
You were proud of the way your property looked, hidden well off the road in a small forested area, the whole thing had kind of an eclectic feel to it, but you still felt kind of strange leading them into the common area. 
“Okay!” You clasped your hands together, and tried to remember that you were only a housing opportunity - they had more important things to focus on. “Well, uh, I’ll stay out of your way as much as I can, but you might see me flitting about here and there. What’s mine is yours.” Some nodded their thanks, others were making quick work of checking their bags for God knows what, and one, the one in a skull mask, merely stared down at you, his large arms crossed on his chest.
Okay… You took that as your cue to leave, and you quickly stepped out the back door, hoping to make progress on your chores before the sun set.
The frigid air felt nearly unbearable compared to how hot you were burning in their presence - you didn’t even realize that you were slightly sweating. With a sigh, you reminded yourself of your responsibilities. Repaint the gazebo, refill and hang the bird feeders, and fix the greenery so everything is in full bloom by summer. Leaves crunched under your step as the half-painted gazebo came into view. You could hear voices coming from your house, a few with different accents, mostly British, but you could pick out a Scottish, a vaguely German, and a couple Spanish lilts. A booming laugh echoed, and you relaxed your tense shoulders at the sound. 
“Don’t make me regret this, Kate.” You mumbled as you settled into the grass and popped open a paint can.
She was pretty. It was the first thing Soap had noticed. It looked like she belonged here, in the woods, with the wind blowing her hair and birds singing in her presence. No doubt she kept them well-fed. He had barely listened when she spoke - he was much too focused on how her sweater wrapped tightly around her body, or how her eyes seemed to physically sparkle with curiosity. She had said something, Soap had no idea, but he responded anyway. Something about the drive? The rooms?
“Ay, don’t worry lass, better by miles than where we’ve been.” He answered, stabbing that it was an appropriate response. The way she averted her eyes and a hint of a smile played at the edges of her lips told him that he was successful. When she turned around to lead them into the safehouse, Price gave him a nudge and shook his head ‘no.’ No fucking Kate’s pretty little sister? Might as well ask him to walk on fucking water, next. 
She had promised to make herself scarce, and Soap was silently thankful. He didn’t want this woman caught up in what they were doing, and he didn’t want her to know something that could get her in trouble - Laswell would never forgive them. When she left, Alejandro was the first to speak.
“Nobody talk to me about this mission tonight.” He grumbled, and Soap recognized that as a request long ago, based on the way his jaw was clenched nearly the entire drive to the location, muttering what Soap assumed to be expletives every so often. He trudged up the stairs with his bag, Rudy trailing not far behind. 
“Right, then.” Ghost spoke, rolling his shoulders and pulling out a map of the enemy facility and laying it on the wood table, and Soap nearly laughed at how out of place it looked. “If they’ve gotten support from that gang, it eliminates them from support from anyone else, and makes them a target to others, not just us.”
“We need to get to them first.” Konig’s hand landed on the map, gesturing vaguely at an entrance. “This was lightly guarded.” Soap stared at the location, before his eyes flitted out the window to see you approaching a gazebo outside, and he itched to get this out of the way.
“Aye, they might reinforce that entrance since they know it’s weak now. Leaves somewhere else open to vulnerability.” Soap strategized, his eyes lingering on how your hands ran through your hair, and JESUS, how did it still look perfect after that? A light thump on the back of his head pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked back to see Gaz with a raised eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. 
“No-go, mate. Red zone. Laswell would have your head on a stick.”
“Might be worth it.” Ghost chimed in, following his gaze to the woman.
Price pointed a warning finger to Ghost, his face stony.
“Ghost, stop instigating. Gaz, leave Soap alone. Konig…” He took a breath, considering the man had nothing to do with their antics. “Good job. Soap, I wish I had control over who a soldier decides to sleep with, but I don’t.”
“That girl in Ibiza left a bad taste in your mouth, Cap?” Soap retorted, recalling one of his more infamous hook-ups, and Price laughed loudly.
“Lesson for the inexperienced,” Ghost turned to Konig. “Remember your date’s name or she will throw a knife at you.” Konig shook his head at this, and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to call it a day.
“Sounds like my kind of woman.”
Soap had already tuned the ribbing out, and when Ghost packed up the plans, he was already tracing your path, walking out the back door to meet you.
A rustling of leaves caused your head to perk up, and you turned to see the one who had spoken to you earlier, a small smile on his face.
“Need any help?” He tilted his head at the gazebo. “More hands make less work ‘n all.” You looked back at your work, having made minimal progress since you began. 
“Oh! Yeah, sure. If you want.” You responded, pulling the paint tray out in front of you so he could take the spare paintbrush. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again.
“I’m Johnny. Most of the guys call me Soap, though.”
Soap? The nickname seemed to come out of nowhere, and you crinkled your nose at this.
“Why do they call you that? You shower more than everyone else or something?” He laughed at this, reaching up to cover the underside of a railing in white paint, and you fought to keep your eyes from lingering on his arms.
“Good at cleaning house, love.” Soap corrected you, your lips pursing at the nickname. “How long have you had this place?”
You shrugged, simply happy that he was making conversation with you.
“Coupl’a years. Since I was twenty. Bought it as a dump and flipped it.” He makes a noise of approval and takes a deep breath. 
“Your, uh, boyfriend live here with you, does he?” At this, you can’t help but allow a laugh to tear through you, both in recognition of what Soap was doing, and out of pure shock that he was doing it.
“Not sure where my boyfriend lives, I haven’t met him yet. Let me know if you find him, though, yeah?” Soap shook his head.
“I don’t think I will, but thank you for the offer.”
The back and forth with Soap left your head reeling, and you considered your options as you painted in silence. Kate would kill you if she found out, but she doesn’t need to find out. It has been terribly long since you’ve even been on a date, or even had sex for that matter, and Soap certainly isn’t the worst looking man in the world. He clearly had a great body, and you delved down the rabbit hole of how his arms would look pinning your arms above your head, his battle-worn dog tag trailing cold electricity down your chest.
A flash of yellow light pulled you out of your musings, and a firefly landed on your knee. You took a deep breath and turned to Soap, his attention garnered by your sudden movement of waving the small bug away.
“Do you wanna have a drink tonight? With me?” Your face was comically serious, and Soap let out a soft chuckle as he replaced the lid on the paint, taking the brush from your hand.
“Aye.” He stood, sighing a bit at the noise his knees made, and handed you the paint tray.
“I’ll, uh, go put this up and meet you inside.” You offered him a small smile, and his head tilted at you, trying to hide his own.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Soap had to stop himself from running back into the house. Giddiness coursed through him, and he burst through the door to see Gaz, Ghost, and Konig sat in various places around the living room, the TV tuned in to the local news.
“Get the fuck out.” He stated simply, his eyes wide and a dumb grin on his face.
“Pardon?” Ghost barely spared him a glance, and Konig automatically stood, silently confused as to where he was supposed to go. Gaz merely stared up at him.
“I said,” Soap wrapped his hand around Ghost’s bicep and pulled, forcing the man to stand, and Gaz followed. “Get the fuck out.”
“You sendin’ us to bed, then, eh?”
Soap picked up Ghost’s bag for him, and shoved it into his chest, nearly pushing the men up the stairs.
“I am.” He turned to Gaz, his mouth already open to protest, and pointed a finger in his face. “If you fuck this up for me, I will end you.” 
The second the three men shut the door to their respective rooms, you stepped back into the house, locking the backdoor behind you.
I raised an eyebrow at the television, and grinned at Soap.
“Did you turn on the news?” I ask, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of wine from cabinets, pouring us both a fairly full glass.
“Yeah, it’s a new form of foreplay.” He laughed, taking a sip. “Learnin’ that we world is shite.” 
“Oh, so foreplay is important to you?” And that question was your first step. He glanced at you from across the kitchen island, and you could just see the gears in his mind turning, figuring out the best way to get himself into your bed. Honestly, he could have asked to bend you dead over the kitchen counter, his large hand pulling your hair as leverage as he thrusted into you from behind.
But your imagination always runs wild.
“Mm. ‘S very important.” You cocked your head at his answer, and he shrugged. “I prefer to have a girl simply beggin’ before I even think of finishing.” He took a step around the island, not quite in front of you, but leaning on the side. You sipped your wine again, trying to cover your reaction to his answer, but there was no wine glass big enough to cover how you pressed your legs together, one hand gripping the counter with slightly more force than necessary.
“How do you do that?” It was an effort to keep your tone even , trying not to show how badly he was affecting you.
“Eh.” He set his wine glass down, finger lightly circling the base of the stem. “Usually have ‘em coming a few times before I get my own.”
Holy fuck. You needed Soap, and you needed him bad.
“Ah, so only good reviews then?” Damnit, why is your voice suddenly higher? You cleared your throat to try to get it to return to normal, and the fucking bastard smirked at you.
“So far. Tell me, love.” That damn nickname again. “When was the last time you were fucked?” You opened your mouth to answer, but it didn’t matter as Soap began talking again. “Ah, lemme revise that. When was the last time you were properly fucked? The last time someone had you cryin’, had you just stupid on their cock?”
You were buzzing, shaking slightly at Soap’s vulgar words. His accent got lower, rougher as he spoke, and you could feel your arousal tying a knot in your throat.He simply stared at you, waiting for your answer with a dumb smile on his face, like he already knew.
“Oh, no, don’t tell me…” He began, in mock sympathy. “Never?” You shook your head at him, not wanting to tell him the truth.
In all reality, you’ve never orgasmed with someone else. It was all only you, and you learned quickly not to say this, as all men would try to be the first. Then you’d end the night by lying, and they would go with their egos inflated.
You both stood, the tension in the kitchen more than you could bear, and just as you were about to dismiss yourself for the night, Soap wrapped a hand around your forearm - Not tightly enough to worry you, but just enough so you looked up at him, your faces inches from each other.
“Love, I don’t like to, uh, think I’m all that, y’know?” He cleared his throat. “But I’d like to try. Show some thanks to our host.”
In one last attempt at quieting down your own perverse thoughts, you set your wine glass down, and looked at the floor.
“Ah, you don’t need to thank me Soap.”
“I absolutely do,” He responded immediately. “I really do need to. Nothin’ better than a pretty face while I work.”
You bite the inside of your lip, considering all the ways this could go bad. Every single one was overrun with the way Soap was searching your eyes, silently pleading for you. With a purse of your lips, you poured the rest of your wine down the sink, and smiled.
“Absolutely.”
You barely got the words out before Soap wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted, slinging you over his shoulder and making his way up the stairs, searching for any room that didn’t look like it was already occupied.
“Mine’s on the other end.” You breathed in an effort not to laugh at his eagerness, and he turned on his heels toward a door that was differently painted than the rest. He placed a hand over your head, protecting you from a bump as he ducked through the doorframe, and less-than-gently set you on your bed, locking the door behind him.
When he turned, you didn’t see the sweet man offering to help you with painting, you saw a soldier. A soldier tuned into your every breath, every movement, and every thought. He kneeled in front of the bed, between your legs, and began planting lighter than air kisses on your ankle, untying your shoes and setting them to the side haphazardly.
“Red means stop.” He whispered against your skin, traveling upward to your knee. “Yellow is slow down, green is good. Repeat it.”
“Red is-“ You were cut off by your own gasp as he delivered a light bite to the inside of your thigh before kissing it again, and you could feel him smile against you. “Red is stop. Yellow is slow. Green is good.”
“And where are we now?” He breathed against the spot right where your thigh met your most sensitive area, and you felt your stomach jump.
“Green. So, so green.” A whimper escaped you, and Soap tsked, like he was about to scold you.
“Stay quiet, lass.” Teased Soap, as he slid your shorts down, along with your underwear, and he whistled lowly. “A Chriosd ann an ifrinn, seall ort, a nighean bhòidheach.” And with that, he licked one long, thick strip up your cunt, dipping down to tease your hole with his tongue. Soap was eating you out like a man starved, and you were obsessed. 
Light, breathy moans left you, ever so aware of how quiet everything else was. 
“Tell me what feels good, love.” He punctuated his command with a nip to your thigh, pulling your mind out of the pleasure-induced haze. His tongue traveled through your folds, eyes trained on you to see your reaction to his ministrations. Soap’s lips wrap around your clit, fingers toying with your soaking entrance, and it felt like all rational thought had left you. You didn’t care about who exactly was between your legs, nor if his team could hear your desperate mewls.
The pressure inside you was building, and your movement was strange - trying to wriggle away from the incessant barrage against your clit, and trying to grind impossibly closer to Soap’s lips, and by his huff, it was clear he had enough of that. One large arm wrapped around a thigh, his other pressing down on your abdomen, and the only noise Soap could muster was a few low groans as he continued devouring you.
The knot inside you was getting tighter and tighter, and it felt like it was going to snap any second. A split moment of panic ran through you as your back arched off the bed, Begs and cries tumbling out of your lips before you could think of them.
“Soap, please, please.” You cried, hands aching from gripping the sheets. “Please don’t stop, please…” Staying true to your direction, Soap was unrelenting against you, the combination of his sucking, biting, and licking at your clit had dizzy spots appearing in your vision. With one hard push on your abdomen, and a particularly slow drag of his tongue at your entrance, you felt that snap, and you finally understood why it was called the Little Death.
Your mind had gone completely blank, mouth open in a silent scream, and your thighs clamped around either side of Soap’s head, where he still had yet to stop drinking you. It felt like your heart had even stopped beating, until the pounding was heard in your ears. As Soap continued, you felt your body lurch upwards, fingers tangling in Soap’s hair until he finally looked up at you, his hand coming back to slide a finger into you.The sudden intrusion forced a gasp from you, and he gently kissed your thigh, where you noticed the ache that predates a bruise.
“How we doin’, love? We okay?” His voice was impossibly sweet, a complete 180 to how he just made you feel. You nodded, despite feeling like every single sense in your body had been blown out. His finger continued sliding in and out of you, your walls pulsing around him.
“Green.” You confirmed breathily, and he smiled a wolfish grin before adding a second digit into you, his pace quickening. A quick flash of aggravation and desperation coursed through you, and you knew how to get exactly what you wanted. 
You looked down at him, eyebrows upturned in a pleading look, and your doe-eyes were working overtime. 
“Please, Soap, just fuck me.” You said, voice higher and more gentle than you thought it would come out, and he groaned, rolling his head against your leg. His fingers took on a ‘come here’ motion, and your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the feeling.
“Ah, I know what you want. You want these…” Soap planted a kiss on your thighs, interrupting his own speech. “God, these pretty thighs pinned behind your head, taking me so well, takin’ me so good.” He looked absolutely pussydrunk, his eyes darting between your eyes and his fingers, tsking and offering a slight noise of false sympathy when a tear rolled down your cheek. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, and you could feel that fire building inside of you again. “Christ, love, you wanna come again, huh?” You nodded furiously at his question, one hand coming up to absentmindedly play with your tits. A bright look crossed Soap’s face, and while his hands continued, his mouth met your hands.
His lips wrapped around your nipple, and before you could think, he bit down - the orgasm that crashed through you was stronger than the last, and the muscles in your thighs screamed from being clenched so tightly. You felt his fingers work their way out of your pussy, hissing at the feeling of your walls clenching around nothing.
“You want me to fuck you now, pretty thing?” His face was almost smug as he climbed up on the bed, one hand going to your lower back to effortlessly raise you, and he peppered light kisses on your sweat-covered face. Of course you want him, how could you not? Your body was buzzing with the aftershocks of two orgasms, and here he was, lining himself up with you.
“God, yes, please.” You breathed, hands coming to rest on his back. Soap brought his lips down next to your ear, sending another shock straight to your core.
“Beg better.” He punctuated his command by rubbing his cock through your folds, and you twitched when the head ground against your already sensitive clit. Beg better? Fuck you, Soap. 
You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you and, hopefully, how serious you looked.
“Fuck me, Soap. Now.” 
The simple instruction was all it took for him to push inside you, and it was like it activated something in him - Soap simply could not shut up.
“Ach, mo Dhia, tha thu a 'faireachdainn cho foirfe timcheall orm. So perfect.” He planted a kiss to your temple. “So perfect, my pretty girl.” 
You brought your lips up to his neck, kissing the curve where it meets his shoulder, and his babbling only continued as his cock dragged against nearly every nerve, your broken moans echoing through your room. God, his slow pace was nearly agonizing, you wanted more, you needed more. It was like Soap read your mind as he paused, hooking your knees above his shoulders, effectively pinning you into the mattress. He flashed you a wicked grin before he began his jackhammer pace, and this new position had him reaching impossibly deep inside you.
A vague, low ache began in your abdomen every time he bottomed out, his head kissing your cervix every single time. The depth combined with his pace, his groaning and endless praise in your ear - it felt like it was all culminating in a perfect storm, one that was threatening to break down every fibre of your being.
“Fuck, Soap, I’m going to-” You interrupted yourself with a low, hoarse groan, your admission only spurring him on as he replaced his hold on your knees with his hands.
“Look at me, love, I wanna see it, I wanna see you.” His stuttering hips told you he was in the same spot as you, and you both were not going to last much longer. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He growled, and that was all it took for you.
Your legs shook uncontrollably as you released around him, and your ending brought his own on. Curses left him lips as he buried himself inside you, collapsing next to you.
“Ach, come ‘ere.” He breathed, reaching his arm out to hook around your waist and pulling you to him, one leg wrapping around his waist. One hand rested on your jaw, planting kisses on your forehead, cheek, anywhere he could get access to. Your body felt numb, and you knew he stayed true to his word - you were fucked absolutely stupid. You wanted to talk, you wanted to ask where this left you? Would you ignore that this happened? Would it recur? Would he tell his team about it? You wanted to ask, and yet you didn’t - The song of crickets and his heartbeat was a lullaby, and one that you couldn’t fight.
The snare of sleep overtook you as your heart rate evened out, and only one thought was on your mind before you gave up the fight for consciousness:
You really fucking hope you don’t regret this.
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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 9 months
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Into My Arms
Pairing: Osferth x f!reader Warnings: Canon typical violence, smut, fluff. Word count: ~1.4k
Summary: Osferth is tired of her underestimating him, of being seen as nothing more than "Baby Monk", so goes out of his way to prove to her that he is so much more than that. A little birthday treat for @doomwhathouwilt - based on this request.
Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
She points the tip of her sword to her opponent’s chest, dragging him closer by the shoulder as it plunges forward to the hilt, before sliding it back and watching him crumple in a heap before her, his lifeless eyes staring up towards a gray sky. She cannot hear the screams of pain, the cries of triumph around her over the roar of the blood in her ears.
Her body aches with exertion, the arrows in her quiver are long spent, meaning she has to use her blade to defend herself. As the fighting dies down she is left only with the hammering of her heart, panting for breath as the world swims back into focus, and she is greeted by the coppery smell of viscera and the rancid stench of shit. She feels like crying, the adrenaline that courses through her is beginning to subside as she watches what little remains of their opponents flee, the majority of their forces having been cut down.
There is rarely a dull moment on the road with Uhtred and his men; she's been with him since he parted ways with Brida, accompanying him and Leofric on their travels. She enjoys never settling anywhere for long, drinking ale and sharing stories beneath the stars. It keeps her skills as an archer sharp, their battles are frequent, though lately she finds herself tiring of them, there is little joy to be found in taking the life of another.
She longs to give up, to declare she can take no more, but as her weary eyes look up, taking in the aftermath of the battle, she is met with the very reason why she continues on. Osferth’s eyes, vividly blue and wide with fright remain fixed ahead, his grip on his weapon so tight his knuckles are blanched with the force of it. Though he fights courageously, there is fear in his heart and she worries about what will happen to him if she simply walks away from all of this. They all give him a hard time; he is a Christian, always seems to say the wrong thing and has no qualms with passing judgment on their behaviours that he deems inappropriate. Despite all of this, he is steadfast in his loyalty to the group, and so she along with the rest of them would gladly lay down her life for him.
They sit around the campfire, tending to the minor injuries they’ve sustained, cuts and scrapes alike. She bats away Sihtric’s attempts to dab at her temple with a moistened rag.
“It’s a scratch, leave it be,” She says with resignation. Her eyelids feel heavy as she stares ahead into the flames, she longs for sleep.
“I think this calls for ale and women!” Finan declares, slapping his thighs and standing up.
“And prayer,” Osferth adds, with a hopeful smile.
“Yes, but in that order,” Finan counters with a grin.
She remains seated as the four of them head towards the village, she has no desire to join in with their festivities.
Osferth glances over his shoulder, pausing and allowing the group to move ahead when he notices she remains where she is.
“Are you not joining us, my lady?” He asks, brows pinched together with concern.
“Not tonight, no,” She says quietly. “I’m not in the mood.”
He nods, returning to the fire and seating himself next to her. “Then I shall stay with you and keep you company.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I don’t. But I want to.”
She looks at him, a warm smile spreading across her face as she sees the sincerity in his eyes.
“There’ll be women waiting for you in the village,” She teases.
The tips of his ears turn pink. “I’m not interested,” He tells her with a shy grin.
“I doubt you’d know what to do with them anyway, Baby Monk,” She chuckles lightly.
“I do, actually,” His voice is stern, his expression hardened and she worries she’s offended him.
“I was only jo–”
Her words are cut off as Osferth leans in, pressing his mouth to hers. His lips are soft yet firm against her own and the kiss steals her breath away. He keeps their foreheads pressed close, his thumb tracing lightly over her cheek as he pulls back.
Her heart flutters wildly as her breaths come shakily. “Y-your blood still runs hot from battle, Baby Monk, we should not do this.”
“I am tired of waiting for you to see me as I see you,” He whispers. “Let me show you how much I desire you.”
This time when his lips capture hers, she returns the gesture with equal enthusiasm, allowing herself to get lost in the basic primal urge of feeling wanted.
Deft hands exchange caresses across each other’s bodies, each pass of their fingers serving to remove an item of clothing until the two of them lay bare beneath the night sky. Her flesh prickles against the chill of the air, but she barely notices as her eyes drink in the sight of the man before her.
She looks appreciatively, silently cursing the robes that have been swamping the hard planes of muscle of Osferth’s torso. Her breath hitches at the sight of his hardened length, it’s thick and long, flushed pink at the tip, it appears that he is full of surprises.
“You are beautiful,” He declares softly, taking his time to gaze upon her own form, and she feels her skin grow heated at his compliment.
As he moves his body to cover hers, his mouth travels a path from her neck to her chest, leaving a trail of wet, opened mouthed caresses. He suckles on the hardened peaks of her breasts and she arches against him, a soft moan escaping her at the jolt of arousal that rushes through her.
She halts Osferth’s movements when he attempts to move lower, the ache between her thighs is unbearable and she is certain she needs no further preparation. “Please,” She whispers. “I want you.”
He inhales sharply at this, pupils blown wide with lust and hovers over her as she spreads her legs further to accommodate him. The gentle stretch as he pushes slowly inside is exquisite torture and causes her to gasp.
He pauses for a moment, softly stroking her hair. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, it feels good,” She reassures him. “Please don’t stop.”
He kisses her deeply as he bottoms out, allowing her a moment to adjust before he begins to rock his hips. His strokes are sure and even, and she finds herself wondering if this is practiced or purely instinctual. She had expected Osferth to be clumsy and inexperienced, yet every thrust of his hips finds a spot inside her that leaves her crying out as her toes curl involuntarily.
“I have wanted you for so long,” He whispers into her ear, as his hips snap against hers with more urgency. “You feel better than I have ever dreamed.”
She feels her eyes grow misty with emotion at this, the combination of his soft confessions and the pleasure she is experiencing becoming too much, until the tightly wound coil within her lower belly finally snaps, and she falls apart, clenching ceaselessly around him, as her cries of ecstasy are offered up to the stars above them.
Osferth shudders, pulling out of her with a strangled groan, stroking frantically at himself as he paints her upper thighs with his spend before collapsing beside her.
As the euphoria begins to wear off, she becomes aware of the tickle of the damp grass against her back, the coolness that licks against her sweaty skin.
He gently tugs her to his chest and she goes willingly, draping herself across him, listening to the rapid thud of his heartbeat.
“Are you alright, my lady?”
“Just fine, Baby Monk.”
“Could you…could you just call me Osferth? Simply Osferth.” He asks gently.
She lifts her head from his chest, raising a questioning eyebrow at him and he smiles fondly down at her.
“It seems more fitting for you to call me by name if you’re to be my woman.”
“Your woman?” She feels her stomach flutter.
“Yes, my woman,” He gives her a squeeze. “If that’s agreeable to you.”
She squeezes him back. Nothing has ever sounded better.
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asmodeus-682 · 4 months
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Random Hazbin Hotel scenario quotes.
(Not exactly incorrect quotes but can be seen as such)
Zestial: thou looks more tattered than a harlot's dress draped on a manure coated scarecrow
Velvette: excuse-a whst now?
Alastor: allow me to translate. Ahem, he said "you look more ugly than a scarecrow wearing a prostitute's dirty dress"
Velvette: ...fuck you old man
~~~~~
Vox: aww! My baby I missed you!!
Valentino: aww..how sweet, come her Voxxy
*Vox proceeds to push Valentino aside and runs to Vhark and hugs him*
Valentino, betrayed: ..fuckin' asshole..
~~~~
Charlie: so dad, any ideas on what to decorate the hotel with
Lucifer: huge duck
Charlie: wha-?
*Cue Lucifer summoning a 10ft tall rubber duck*
Lucifer: Big. Duck
~~~~
Zestial: I shall rip apart whomever chose to do this!!
Alastor: it- Zestial it's just a black eye-
Zestial: Thou art my son now and I will defend thee with my life!!
Alastor:
Literally everyone else present:
Alastor: I have a dad now :D
~~~~
Carmilla: what do you have there Zestial?
*camera pans to Zestial holding a teacup in one hand and Alastor in the other*
Zestial: tea
Alastor, who has just become an overlord: *aggressively snarling and trying to bite Zestial*
~~~~
Angel Dust: sooo- got any juicy dirt on Alastor?
Rosie, who is visiting the hotel: hm?
Husk: he means gossip Rosie
Rosie: ooooh!
Angel Dust: soo, anything ya got on him?
Rosie: he used to wear heels to appear taller but is damaged his hooves a lot so Zestial forced him to stop.
Angel Dust: HE HAS HOOVES!!?
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archiveikemen · 2 months
Text
Victor 1st Birthday Campaign: Story (2024)
His POV
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Warnings and FAQ
The darkness of the night was my friend, and death was myself.
Today too, I walked, and walked, and walked in the darkness.
Then, I suddenly turned around.
Look, over there – a bloodied, blissful look of death.
Kate: Victor, Harrison lent me a book recently, so…
I did my own work, while Kate did the work she had as the fairytale writer.
Working in the same office together and listening to her stories gradually became a part of my everyday life.
(... She looks happy. She’s become a true member of Crown now.)
Kate: Right, about the matter regarding the maid Marianne that I discussed with you a few days back—
Victor: Ah, give her a few days off work. Meeting up with a long-distance lover is a very important occasion.
When I told her that I had already settled the matter we were in the midst of discussing, she blinked in surprise.
Kate: Victor… at approximately what time do you usually go to sleep?
Victor: Usually?
Kate: I understand that you have a heavy workload, and that’s something I can never deal with.
Kate: But whenever I approach you for something I want to discuss, you immediately resolve the matter on your own…
Victor: Ehh~~ are you perhaps praising me? Goodness, I’m overjoyed!
Victor: But unfortunately, I need to sleep as well. I’m a human being, after all. I only have so much time in a day.
Victor: Which means, the matters you bring up to me are of extremely high priority compared to the other things I have on hand.
Kate: … Thank you, Victor.
Victor: I thank you too, for caring about the other staff working here.*
*Victor actually referred to them as “kids”
Kate: Also… you can forget that I said anything if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, but…
Victor: … Hm?
Kate: Do you have something that’s been bothering you lately, Victor?
Kate: Things that make you unhappy…
(This girl is very observant and sharp.)
Those sincere eyes of hers deserve a sincere reply.
Victor: I have a mission with William tonight, and it’s not one that puts me in a good mood.
I was made aware of the existence of an organisation hat made Her Majesty the symbol of their beliefs — in other words, they worship her like a god.
(People are entitled to their religious beliefs, and Crown has no rights to interfere on that, however…)
There was word that the organisation abducted women and imprisoned them to be worshipped, and those who held no physical resemblance to Her Majesty were killed.
Victor: Tonight, we will investigate the organisation and punish them if found guilty.
Kate: … To think they’d kill people over their religious beliefs.
Victor: Kate, because this mission might make you uncomfortable—
Not giving me a chance to finish my sentence, she responded with a stern look.
Kate: Victor, can you allow me to accompany you on this mission as the fairytale writer?
Out of respect for her wish, I accepted her request and we headed to the organisation’s base that night.
William: We found the belongings of the missing women, blood stains, and bodies. They have no way to defend themselves now.
Kate: Means to say… they’re guilty?
Tommy Yeager, aristocrat. Leah Rodríguez, congresswoman. Kevin Nicholson…
(This is a lot of important people.)
Out of greed for greater power, they worshipped the Queen and hoped that she would fulfil their wishes.
William: There are two possible venues for tonight’s ritual; one is the top floor of this mansion, and the other is the basement.
Victor: Kate and I will go down to the basement. We shall proceed immediately, in order to prevent any more sacrifices.
Kate: Okay…
William: Victor, how much “mercy” do you want to show tonight?
Victor: — No need for any. Their wrongdoings are deserving of condemnation. Give into your wickedness, Will.
Not wanting Kate to witness anything horrifying, I prayed that we weren’t headed for where our “prize” was.
(Ahh, turns out the basement is indeed where our “prize” is at.)
In the basement was what appeared to be an altar, candlelight flickering.
A group of people in masquerade surrounded the altar, laying at the centre was a young girl who looked of tender years.
(Is that the “substitute” for Her Majesty? … Utterly heinous.)
I noticed that one of the men was about to lower the candle in his hand onto the girl’s arm, and I reflexively took a step forward.
— But Kate beat me to it.
Kate: … STOP!
Masked Red-Haired Man: Wha– what’s with this woman!? Let go, get your hands off me…
Kate: Please let that girl go! Ahh…!
In that split second, Kate was shoved into the altar and instantly collapsed onto the ground.
Victor: Kate…? Kate…
(She’s alright, she’s still breathing. She only lost consciousness…)
— There was something on the ground next to her, it seemed that it fell out during her fall.
(Oh, this is…)
– Flashback Start –
Victor: Kate, you’ll be following Elbert and Roger on their mission tonight.
Kate: Okay. I’m still not used to this, I hope I won't get in their way.
Victor: I see. In that case, take this with you.
Kate: … A Cameo hair ornament?
Victor: May it keep you out of harm’s way.
Kate: Fufu, I feel safe knowing that you’re always on a lookout for me.
Kate: Thank you very much, Victor! I’ll be on my way.
– Flashback End –
(... This is the hair ornament I gifted you back when you first joined Crown.)
(You’ve been keeping it by your side like a protective charm…)
Kate lying unconscious on the ground, the girl on the altar, all the innocent women who died there—
Tonight, I had more than enough reason to show absolutely no mercy.
Masked Red-Haired Man: Pfft, haha. This is all because she disrupted our ritual!
Masked Black-Haired Man: … H-Hey. Hold on… this man is…
Masked Black-Haired Man: Isn’t this Sir Victor?
Masked Man with Freckles: I-It really is! How could the Queen’s right hand man show up in such a place!?
I took a good look at all of them, and my gaze focused on one person.
Victor: Was it you who pushed that girl?
Masked Red-Haired Man: Y-Yes… it was me, Sir Victor.
Staring at the man who scrambled up to me, I commanded.
(... It's time for death to come to you.)
Victor: In the name of … I command you. — Now, succumb to my wickedness.
In a trance, the man stared into space.
Masked Red-Haired Man: Ahh… somehow… I feel so happy… I… I…
The man wrapped his hands around his neck, immediately taking his own life.
Masked Black-Haired Man: Is he… dead? Why did he kill himself…?
I turned my gaze towards the alarmed and bewildered men.
Victor: … From right to left, say your names.
Masked Black-Haired Man: Tommy Yeager. … Ugh, gguhh…
I gave another death order.
Masked Man with Freckles: Leah Rodríguez. I- I… ahh!
And another.
All that was left was dead silence.
As though they had a blissful dream, the men died with peaceful expressions on their faces.
William: Is it over? Looks like there’s no chance for me to step into the spotlight.
Victor: Oh, Will. This is where the “prize” was.
William: They died with such peaceful faces, it’s almost as if they were possessed by a god.
(A god, huh.)
It was like saying that “Her Majesty The Queen” was no god.
Victor: … Humans can never become god.
William: Based on what you said, that will surely be the case.
With a calm smile, William picked up the girl on the altar.
William: You can entrust this girl to me. I’ll leave you to look after Kate.
William: Because it seems to me that your rage is heavily correlated to her.
Roger examined Kate upon our return to the castle, and he said that she would regain consciousness very soon.
I gently laid the unconscious Kate on her bed.
(Kate. … I’m so glad you’re safe.)
Looking at her face, I was reminded of the night we first met.
When I suggested that she become our fairytale writer, it was partially because I came up with that on the spot.
The other reason being… I anticipated the change she would bring to Crown.
Despite their differences, every member of Crown was a person of strong character.
It was precisely because of that, I believed that “change brought upon by others” was crucial.
Humans could only grow stronger in the presence of others.
(This change will guide those guys towards a more beautiful evil.)
And I would watch her from a distance — that was the original plan, at least.
(Unknowingly, you brought upon a change in me too.)
As William said earlier on, it was clear that seeing her hurt made me fly into a rage.
I felt alive, that was… a “human” emotion.
(Your presence has turned me from a spectator to a player.)
(However—)
I gently placed the Cameo hair ornament back into Kate’s hair.
(Regardless of how lovely you are, I will always remain by your side as “Victor, Aide to The Queen”.)
(No more, no less.)
Or else, my darkness, and death — would swallow her whole.
I gave her hair a gentlemanly kiss.
Victor: Consider this a bad dream and forget everything. Be it nightmares or death, I will never let them reach you.
Victor: … Good night, Kate.
The next day, Kate regained her consciousness and came to me at the speed of light to apologise.
Kate: I’m truly sorry, Victor. I was to blame for rushing out without thinking it through…
(You’d still blame yourself even if I tell you I didn't mind, won't you?)
(Ah, that's right. In that case…)
Victor: Would you like to have lunch with me, Kate?
Victor: I was about to have a lonely lunchtime today, I’m so glad you’re here.
Kate: Can I make it up to you for last night with this?
Victor: Of course. I find joy in having a delicious meal with another person’s company.
Kate: Fufu, that’s good to hear.
(That captivating smile of yours is finally back.)
— Suddenly, it started drizzling.
Victor: It’s a passing shower. Come here, Kate. Let’s take shelter at the gazebo over there.
Kate: A-Alright…
(... That was surprising. The rainfall in London can be so unpredictable.)
Victor: Kate, are you alright—
Before I could ask, Kate wiped my cheeks with her hands.
Kate: I’m alright. You, on the other hand…
Victor: … (surprised)
Despite being drenched herself, she was still more concerned about me. The hands touching me felt so warm, almost like a gentle shower falling from the clear sky.
There it was “again” — the change in my heart.
Kate: Ah, I almost forgot. Liam told me that he has something for you.
Kate: I’m very curious about why he said in a frustrated tone that he was “supposed to give it to you yesterday”.
(Ahh…)
Victor: It was my birthday yesterday.
Kate: … Wait.
Kate: WHAT!?
That was likely the most shocked I had ever seen her from the day we met, I couldn't contain my laughter.
(I never intended to tell you myself, because I know you’ll get unnecessarily worked up over it.)
Kate: I-I’m so sorry I didn’t prepare a present for you, I didn’t know it was your birthday…
Victor: Haha, it’s okay. I already received one from you.
Kate: …?
Victor: You spent the whole day with me yesterday.
Victor: Although I genuinely only wanted to respect your freedom of choice, perhaps I also had the childish wish for you to stay by my side on my birthday.
Victor: … Thank you, Kate.
She looked up at the clear sky with a smile.
Kate: … Hey, Victor. I want to become stronger.
Victor: Why so?
Kate: I know that you’ll always protect me from harm, but… being the weakling I am…
She mumbled “I know there are many things in this world that are better off being left unbeknownst to me” under her breath.
Then, she continued, saying “but if it's things related to you, I want to know all about them”. And—
Kate: When you’re having a hard time, I don't want to just laugh it off and pretend I don’t know.
I was captivated by the way she said those words with a smile.
Not only did she change Crown and I, even she went through beautiful changes with every blink of an eye.
(... This girl is like a storm in springtime.)
Would I someday be caught up in that storm — and tell her the truth?
(But now is not the time.)
Victor: Don’t move too fast towards becoming stronger, I’ll feel lonely being left behind.
(Stay like this just for a little bit longer.)
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wileys-russo · 5 months
Note
can we have a ficlet for camp champ for niamh please
camp champ ficlet
"niamy! niamy! niamhy!"
"oh no." you winced knowing exactly what those chants would be for, burying your face in millies shoulder as she patted your head. "watch out! crazy legs is on the dance floor again." the blonde laughed as you dared to sneak a peek and groaned.
"who lets her do this? who tells her its a good idea? why encourage her?" you shook your head, downing your drink making millie laugh even louder. "everyone! cause she's fucking hilarious." the girl shrugged honestly as you playfully punched her shoulder.
"oi! ya missus wants ya." ella collapsed next to you with a grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows, everyone having a drink and a dance to celebrate the semi final win over australia earlier this evening.
"sorry tooney i'm single for tonight, crazy legs is not my girlfriend." you shook your head again more firmly, stealing millies drink as the taller girl pinched your leg and strode off to find a refill. "crazy legs is the best!" ella laughed clapping you on the back.
your girlfriends nickname stemmed from the way that her limbs seemed to refuse to function normally when she was drunk. combine that with the passion she seemed to have for cutting a move on the dance floor and the way she would erratically spasm and wiggle her body lead to grave embarrassment for you and endless amusement for everyone else.
you'd known crazy legs for far longer than anyone else, having babysat her at many parties or bore witness to her shenanigans late night in your shared living room after a wine filled date night or family dinner.
"baby!" speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, ella scurrying off as niamh stumbled her way over.
"hi love." you couldn't help but grin as she danced her way toward you, still encouraged on by your team mates as you bit your bottom lip. "do ya find this sexy? this is my love dance." niamh slurred swinging her body around as you covered your mouth with your hand.
"i think its time for some water niamhy." you quickly stood to grab her as she stumbled, tripping herself over as she let out a loud boom of laughter and you struggled to keep her taller form upright. "nooo babe don't be a buzzkill!" the defender groaned.
"dance floors looking lonely charles!" at that she was back up and out of your arms, trapping your hand in hers as she pulled you with her despite your protests.
"niamh no!" you laughed as she dragged you with her, pulling you now into her arms as she swayed and swung her body around, hanging onto you somewhat restricting her normal flailing about as the music pumped around you.
"niamh!" you yelped as she dipped you, letting go of you as lotte hurried to save you from falling, your girlfriend smiling guiltily as you were back on your feet.
"you can't stay mad at this baby, look!" niamh swung her arms around, looking more like a chicken than a footballer as her legs kicked and bent, the small crowd around roared with laughter only spurring her on further.
the chant of crazy legs echoed around you as the song ended and niamh struck a pose as you covered your mouth with your hand and a shake of your head.
that was after all, the love of your life.
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