#it’s probably useless but at least it sparkles

[leclercsbf]

himbo knight rails slutty princess i was there i saw it happen

TELL ME MORE :)

eva, what have you done. full disclosure, i haven’t written a single royalty au in my life but somehow i thought it would be a brilliant idea to type this up in a drug-induced haze. the drugs were my allergy medication, but you know. details. this is about a hundred words shy of 1k, and sadly there is no filth because filth would take me ages and ages to write—but hey, let your mind run free. off we go.

the prince has a great many skills, but holding his alcohol has never been one of them. he need not be so worried, carlos laments, if the prince wasn’t so inclined to drink—but the prince was fond of vasseur’s wines on a good day, the finest their kingdom has to offer, and a wedding was a cause for celebration if carlos has ever seen one.

“to arthur and oliver!” the prince declares, and though he’d addressed no one in particular, the guests surrounding him raise their drinks all too merrily. goblets are emptied in the space of a few breaths, and as the prince raises both hands, triumphant, his lips are stained and slick with wine.

carlos watches the prince closely. he’d lost count of how many drinks the prince has had, which doesn’t bode well as the night drifts further and further from compline; and herein, carlos recalls, lies his purpose—to deliver the prince from harm, uncaring whether danger comes in the form of a sword leveled at the prince’s throat or wine swirling from the depths of a bottle. still, carlos is content, for the time being, not to stray from his post by the window; trusting that his feet would carry him to the prince’s side in a few short strides should any trouble arise.

no sooner had the thought occurred to carlos does he find himself doing precisely as much, his hands settling over the prince’s where they had been attempting to unclasp his cloak. it’s a small mercy that the prince stills the moment carlos appears at his side, though it quickly becomes apparent that any form of relief is meant to be short-lived.

“carlos!” the prince greets him, cheeks wine-flushed and lips spread into a grin. his name sounds different coming from the prince’s mouth, the letters stained by the kingdom’s accent and something he doesn’t dare put a name to, and carlos feels his breath being drawn from his chest. “have you come to drink with us? you must drink with us, carlos, before the wine is all gone.”

“there is enough wine to drown the entire kingdom thrice over, your grace.” carlos jests in response, restricting himself to the barest quirk of the lips. “i am only here to remind you not to rid yourself of your cloak. you might catch your death in this cold.”

“oh, carlos,” the prince croons, his free hand coming to a rest against carlos’ cheek, and in an instant it becomes nigh impossible for carlos to breathe. “i am well aware that you were only protecting my modesty.”

⊱⊰

“your grace, you must stop running.” there is panic bleeding into carlos’ voice, he knows, and if his hands were free he would be tearing at his strands; but as it is, carlos finds himself treading darkened halls, the prince’s cloak secure in his hold. “you have had too much to drink, it is not safe—and your cloak, you must wear your cloak. it is far too cold, your grace.”

it is cold, out here in the hall, the torches mounted every few paces or so serving to illuminate rather than to provide warmth; and without his cloak, the prince is left only with the tunic he’d worn for the occasion, done in the fashion that’s been sweeping the southern territories. the bodice was hewn from a sheer fabric that’s soft to the touch, pale gold and barely shielding the skin that lies beneath; and when the prince turns to face him—keeping pace even as he does—carlos burns white-hot, his eyes purposefully trained on the prince’s face and nowhere else.

“i will stop when you say my name, carlos.” the prince tells him, eyes glinting in the half-light. “and i do not need my cloak. you will keep me warm, no?”

“your grace,” carlos implores him, “i cannot. must not. you are aware that you should not ask this of me.”

“then i refuse to stop running.” the prince concludes, in a tone that suggests he is accustomed to bending others to his will. “we are alone now, carlos. you will not be hanged for saying my name.”

carlos throws a furtive glance back the way they came, finding nothing and no one save for torches, limestone, and moonlight. the prince’s name draws itself from his throat in a whisper.

“you will have to speak a little louder than that.” the prince—charles—tells him, but he’s smiling all the same.

carlos finds himself mirroring charles’ expression, and he starts to give chase, bridging the gap between them with a few easy strides—too easy, he’s aware. charles wanted to be caught, and the ease with which he settles into carlos’ arms confirms as much.

“that was not so difficult, was it?” carlos can picture the smile that’s surely wrapped around charles’ words, and when charles turns in his hold, he’s faced with eyes that are much too keen for the amount of wine that charles claims to have had.

carlos fails to take notice of the ruse until it’s staring him in the face, charles’ wine-flushed cheeks painted in a fading rouge—crushed mulberries brushed across pale skin, yet another gift from the southern territories. carlos, carlos, carlos, he can almost hear charles say. i am not as drunk as everyone thinks i am. we are alone now, carlos. say my name.

“keep me warm, carlos.”

#🎱 #inbox #jace fills prompts #not sure how i feel about this but It Has Been Written and so it must be posted #this is the equivalent of a crow leaving a Random Shiny Thing on your porch #like here eva i got you something #it’s probably useless but at least it sparkles #sorry for sneaking in some bearclerc. it will happen again

[shotmrmiller]

currently doing one of my most hated chores which is laundry and it got me thinking.

It's bloody laundry day again. You've got no extra clothes to really wear apart from a loose, grey, too thin pajama shirt and the shorts it came with.

Tragic, but not the end of the world. No one goes to wash their clothes looking like they're right off the runway. And it's also far too early for the laundromat to be packed.

You'll survive.

Slamming your trunk closed, you straighten and wipe the sweat that's beaded on your forehead. Damn muggy air. Even at this hour, the weather chooses violence.

Pulling the door open, you step inside and hiss out a breath through your teeth. In here it's not any better. And there's only one big fan on, out of the many that are in here.

God you hate laundry day.

At least it looks empty.

Tucking your hair away in a makeshift, sloppy bun, you drag your dirty clothes basket to a washer and throw them in.

Next is your detergent and when you pick up the fabric softener, it's almost empty.

God fucking damnit.

And the person that sells stuff isn't in behind the desk.

Slamming the lid closed, you kick your hamper into against the washer and walk toward the cursed fan that probably only circulates the hot ass air in here. But with the way your pathetic shirt is turning damp and sheer from the sweat, and short strands of hair that are starting to glue themselves to the back of your neck, worse is nothing.

And then you're standing in the corner of the laundromat, getting hot air weakly blown into your flushed face. "Goddamn it's hot. Useless fucking fan is just here for decor, i think."

"Ah think so too."

You choke back a scream and spin on the balls of your feet to the deep, accented voice behind you.

A muscular pretty boy with hair the color of damp soil and blue eyes that sparkle brightly, even under the dim light of the place sits with his back to a washer that's currently going.

Devastatingly handsome. And you've been throwing a hissy fit for the past half hour, only to appear in front of him resembling a drowned rat.

Flatlining right now would be great.

"Damned hot in here, alrigh'. Isnae tha' so, Simon?"

Who? Oh no.

How you missed that behemoth is beyond you, but he rises from the ground like a slumbering giant. Ash brown choppy hair and dark, sharp eyes with the rest of his face covered by a black cloth mask. 6'4 at least, and built like bloody fridge.

Someone kill you now.

"Johnny."

His piercing eyes cut to you before flicking back to the man on the floor.

"Get the detergent."

"Aye." Scottish, it sounds like.

You briskly walk away from them two, face burning with embarrassment, back to the washer you're using.

Today of all days, you come across these two. You could cry, honestly.

They're there for as long as you are, and you've long since gotten past your self-consciousness. If you have to melt in this stifling heat for one more second, you just might scream.

You grab your clothes from the dryer with haste, haphazardly throwing them in your basket and with a quick, 'Have a good day!', you're out the door.

As you're about to get in your car, the scot comes bustling out the front door of the laundromat.

"Lass! Ah think these're yers."

What he holds in his hands has tears springing into your eyes.

Undergarments. Why the hell is he-

You can see the tall brit leaning on a machine, with his arms crossed and he's looking right at you.

The walk of shame to the pretty one is almost unbearable. Your trembling hand reaches for your garment. "Thank you."

He chuckles under his breath. "Anytime. See ye around."

How mortifying.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghoap x you

[strang3lov3]

A Learning Process

Extra Soft!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Your whole life, everyone told you motherhood would come easy. So far, it has not. You struggle to connect with your baby boy, Francis. You struggle to console him, to breastfeed him, everything. Joel has pretty much taken care of your son by himself in the two months since you gave birth. Today is your first day alone with your baby boy, and it ends in disaster. Does Joel also think you’re a failure of a mother? Takes place in Jackson, sometime after TLOU

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: emotional, emotional breakdown, talks of giving birth, breastfeeding, dirty diapers, taking a bath with Joel, pet names, vulnerable reader, postpartum depression and anxiety, undefined loving relationship with Joel

A/N: Just thought of this story, thought you could all use some sweet soft Joel :)

Edit: forgot to add this is loosely based on this request from @guiltgoreglory !!!

If you like this story, please leave me a comment or reblog telling me what you think!!🩷🩷

Masterlist

It’s a quiet December morning, the sunlight is just beginning to dance and sparkle on the snow outside. You’re in an old rocking chair Maria gifted you, holding your baby boy close to your chest. He’s quiet for once, usually he’s fussy when you hold him. You’re morose, wondering if it was the right choice to bring him into this world, with you as his mother.

His name is Francis. You gave birth to him two months ago in October. 

It was a chilly April day when you realized you were late, not having a period since January. In a panic, you called Joel into your shared bedroom. 

Those two words hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m late,” you whispered, eyes full of worry and tears. Your words were bitter, tasting like the bile on your tongue. 

“You’re what?” 

“I think I’m pregnant, Joel,”

Joel sat down on the bed with you, his head spinning. He was quiet, too quiet. But not angry like you feared he would be. 

Jackson was a great place to raise a child, but Jackson was still a town on Earth, which for the past twenty-odd years, has been overtaken by a brain-controlling fungus. There was no guarantee that having a baby in Jackson would be 100% risk free. 

“But we’ll take care of it. I want you to come to the doctor with me tomorrow,” you started. “And we’ll deal with–”

“No,” Joel interrupted. He looked at you with his big brown eyes, so sad and worrisome. “I can’t let you do that. Not safe.”

Abortion is what he was referring to. It’s not that Joel felt abortion was wrong in any sense, he was the last person on Earth who had any right to discuss right and wrong. Abortion was risky, even in the safety of Jackson. And he couldn’t risk letting you get hurt, or worse. He was right, and you knew it. You didn’t need any convincing. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

“I don’t know that I’m ready to be a mom, Joel,” you breathed shakily. “I can’t do this.”

He held your hand in his own, so big and calloused from years of backbreaking work. “I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he whispered. “You didn’t get into this all by yourself.”

It was true. Joel was the one who did this to you, anyway. He was your person, or whatever you could call him. Not really your lover, not officially at least. He was just your guy, your companion in everything. And you slept together. It just was a one time, two time, okay maybe all the time kind of thing. 

Contraception wasn’t easy to come by. If you were lucky enough to come by some condoms, they were most definitely expired and probably useless. You’d be better off with the pull out method, which was never that great of a birth control method. 

You and Joel would often forgo pulling out, getting too caught up in the heat of the moment. You loved each others’ bodies passionately. And well, your bodies did what human bodies tend to do. They created a baby. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Since giving birth to Francis in October, Joel had taken on the role of sole caretaker to your baby boy. It’s not what you had planned, exactly. It’s kind of just how it happened. 

Joel did his best to teach you how to swaddle Francis, but you could never quite get it right. He’d flail his limbs too much and you couldn’t wrap him quick enough. Joel also tried to help you learn to breastfeed, but Francis would never latch to your nipple. 

You and Francis didn’t quite connect, the way most new moms do with their babies. You’d seen women around Jackson with their babies, smiling and singing to them. Their babies looked so happy, so at peace with their mamas. 

And it made you feel so isolated. You could never console him, never. It seemed like he only ever cried in your arms. You and Francis were like oil and water. Sometimes you wondered if you were even his mother. He wanted just about nothing to do with you, and everything to do with Joel. 

Even the pregnancy was difficult. There was no glow to your body, like everyone told you there would be. You felt ugly and swollen, and you were in constant pain. Francis’ favorite activity in utero was to do somersaults, over and over and over, which meant you’d puke your brains out, over and over and over. Joel was patient with you, of course. You were growing his child. Didn’t press you for sex or make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He’d just hold your hair back and promise you that everything would be alright, it wouldn’t be like this forever.

Joel, on the other hand, had no problem connecting with his baby boy. Francis and Joel were thick as thieves. Francis was silent in his arms, save for the cute little coos he’d let out while sleeping. Francis didn’t cry when Joel changed his diapers like he did with you. Francis let Joel bottle feed him, but refused to let you. 

It broke your heart. 

And it broke Joel’s too. 

To add insult to injury, your relationship with Joel was dwindling. He was there for you, just distant. And you were distant too. You knew it could happen, lots of couples lose sight of one another after a baby. You just didn’t expect it to feel so lonesome and severe. 

You didn’t play games with Ellie like you used to. Didn’t cook together. Didn’t touch each other. Didn’t even go to bed at the same time, because Joel was always with Francis. You’d go to sleep before Joel, silently weeping at all of your shortcomings as a mother and partner, or whatever you were.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“You’ll be alright today,” Joel says sweetly as he dresses himself. He speaks to you in a soft and gentle tone, soothing you. 

“I’m just nervous,” you admit, still rocking Francis. He looks just like Joel. He’s got big brown eyes, just like his daddy. He’s even got the same dimple as Joel on his right cheek. 

“I know you are,” he says, pulling on and tying his boots. He’s nervous too, if he’s being honest with himself. He knows motherhood has not been easy on you. It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle yourself and Francis, he just knows you’re high strung and anxious. “It’s just a couple hours. Tommy put me on the short shift today.” Everyone contributed to patrol in Jackson, and today is Joel’s first day back since the birth of Francis. 

You smile weakly, but wear a brave face. He’s right, it’s just a couple hours. It’ll be fine. Joel kisses your cheek, then bends down to kiss Francis’s soft head. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises. 

And then he’s gone. 

The silence is unnatural, almost eerie. You feel your anxiety in your fingertips as you mindlessly twiddle your fingers against Francis’ back. The sun is brighter now, and it’s time to get the day started. 

Here goes nothing.

“Alright, baby. What do you think, eggs and toast for breakfast?” you whisper to Francis. 

Francis just looks at you and coos with his amber eyes, his mouth suckling on his pacifier. He looks so much like his daddy. 

“Sounds yummy to me too,” you reply to his lack of an answer. As you shift in your seat and maneuver Francis so that his head is tucked by your neck and you’re supporting his bum, he begins to whine a little. “It’s okay, my angel. It’s okay. Mama’s got you. We’re gonna have a good day today, baby.” 

You bounce him a little, soothing him. He quiets down. You make your way to the staircase, your sweet boy wrapped in your arms. 

The stairs are…daunting. They’re steep, rickety, and old. They’re hard wood, but you were smart and took your socks off to eliminate any possibility of slipping. But still, it’s scary. For a second, you consider sitting and moving down the steps the way a toddler would. But you wave that idea off. Don’t be ridiculous.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. You take a step. And then another. Slowly, ever so slowly. Another now. One more. 

You don’t know how it happened. You’re suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, your foot twisted and underneath your body, pinned to the hard stairs. Francis is screaming in your ear, still pressed to your chest. 

You move your foot out from under you with a wince and before even checking to see if it’s broken, and hold Francis in front of you. 

He’s screaming, wailing. His face is fire engine red as he cries. You quickly examine his little body to check for any scrapes or bruises or cuts. Luckily, there are none. 

You do your best to soothe the little boy. “It’s okay, angel. It’s okay. Mama’s got you,” You tell him over and over that it’s okay, but you don’t know that for sure. Did he hit his head? Did you shake him? 

Francis is inconsolable. You look around you for anything to grab to keep him calm, luckily his pacifier is in reach. You place it in his mouth, he spits it out. You do it again. Nothing. 

You’ve got this. Just breathe. 

“Okay, okay. No paci. That’s fine, baby,”

Francis’ cries never let up. He’ll tire himself out eventually. Right?

With Francis still shrieking in your ear, you check your foot. It’s black and blue, already swelling. You try to sit up a bit, put some pressure on it. The pain shoots through your entire body. You don’t know if it’s twisted, sprained, or broken. 

What you do know is that you’re stuck. You’re alone, with no way to call for help. No way to move from the steps. Joel’s short shift might as well be infinite now. 

A few minutes pass as you just focus on your breathing. 

Breathe, is what Joel told you when you found out you were pregnant. You panicked and hyperventilated as he wrapped his strong arms around you, bringing you back down to Earth.

Breathe, is what Joel told you when you spent hours vomiting into the toilet, Frankie never letting up on his somersaults. He held your hair back, rubbed circles into the tense flesh of your shoulders. 

When you were in your long and arduous labor, screaming in agony and gripping his hand. Breathe. 

Breathe. When you couldn’t soothe your son, and you broke down in tears of frustration. Joel took Francis from you and walked into another room to give you a break from his cries. 

You just breathe. 

Finally, the ear piercing shrieks flying from Francis’ mouth subside after a while. You don’t know how long exactly, maybe an hour. He’s still crying, but it’s a different tone. He’s hungry. 

Might as well give it a shot. You can do this. 

You lift up your shirt, adjusting Francis so he’s flush with your body. You guide his mouth to one of your breasts, encouraging him to wrap his lips around your nipple.

You can tell he’s trying, just can’t quite figure out how to latch. You do your best to help him, maneuvering his little body and your breast to ease his struggle. 

“Come on, Francis. You’ve got this, buddy,” you coo. He seems to be relaxed a little by your voice. He almost latches, but not quite. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart.”

Maybe he’s uncomfortable on this side. You flip him over and offer your other breast. He can’t quite latch there either. 

He’s whining, crying. He’s frustrated, you’re frustrated. He’s hungry, you’re hungry. 

“Please, please, please,” you beg him softly. “You can do this, baby. Just eat for mama.”

He still won't latch, but you don’t stop trying. Not for hours. 

Francis’ hunger pangs have seemed to peter out, now. He’s asleep in your arms, most likely tired himself out from crying so much. You worry if he’ll lose his voice by the end of today. 

Your ass is sore, so is your back and your foot. But you savor the peace and quiet despite the pain in your body. 

You wonder how many hours it's been. You try to tell by the way the shadows on the floor change with the sun, but you can’t make out much. Maybe the shadows have moved, maybe not. You can’t tell. Time doesn’t even feel real at this point. Today is agonizingly long.

You rest your head against the banister, closing your eyes. Joel told you once to take advantage of your sleeping son.

“Get some sleep,” Joel mumbled to you. It was maybe a week after giving birth to Francis and you were peering into his crib with heavy eyelids, afraid that if you slept he’d disappear. “He’ll be fine.” 

“I know, I just,” you struggled to form a sentence. You wanted to make sure your baby boy was alright. You hated leaving him. 

“He’ll be fine,” Joel repeated, his gruff voice firm yet sympathetic. “Go to bed.”

Joel helped you up, your body still so tender after Francis’ delivery. You winced at the ache in your muscles. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispered to you. 

You were in a trance, being led to your bed by Joel. It was like your feet weren’t even moving, just floating along and walking on nothing. Joel helped you in bed, adjusted the pillows under your head and pulled a blanket up over your shoulders.

He stepped away from the bed and made his way to the door, turning to give you one last look. Your gaze was still fixed on Francis, unwavering. 

Joel sighed and walked back to the bed, this time his side. The bed creaked with each of his movements. He flipped you over gently so you couldn’t stare at Francis any longer, your head on his chest. 

“Joel,” you protested. “Our baby.”

“Francis is fine,” he mumbled. “You need to sleep. I’ll watch him. Okay, mama? Mom sleeps when baby sleeps. That’s the rule.”

“I can’t sleep, though. I have to watch him,”  Your anxiety wouldn’t leave. Joel felt you fight and struggle against watching Francis. You were so restless. 

“Don’t sleep then,” Joel said. “Just rest your eyes. Can you do that for me?”

“Just rest my eyes?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just give them a break,”

You groaned. “Fine,” you grumbled. You’d give them a five minute break and go back to watching Francis. “Just for a little bit. And then I’m gonna watch him.”

“Alright, honey. You do that. Hush, now. Relax,” Joel commanded you ever so sweetly. “Just close your eyes, mama.”

You did as he said, and he brought his hand to your head, dragging his fingertips through your scalp. His fingers trailed to your neck, then your back. You melted into him, turning into a puddle in his arms. 

Within minutes, you were asleep, snoring quietly. 

Joel knew how to read people, the right words to say to sway them in the direction he wanted them to go. You were no different than anyone else. Now, he wasn't proud of manipulating you into slumber, but he felt it was justified given the circumstances.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wake up to a putrid smell, your ass basically numb underneath you. 

“No, no,” you groan. You adjust Francis, and he begins screaming when you peek into his diaper. The kid does not like being woken up. “Fuck.” you cry. 

It’s a bad one, the mess in his diaper. Francis wails in your ear as you assess the situation. You can’t just leave him in his mess. 

You sigh, taking off your shirt. You set it down next to you on the staircase. 

Francis screams louder when you take off his diaper and set it on the ground. He hates being changed. “I know, bud. This sucks for me too,” you sympathize with him. Then, using your shirt, you wipe him clean as best as you can. It’s not perfect, but it will have to do. 

“Please, don’t cry. Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay,” 

Francis is relentless. He doesn’t let up. You just hold him, his excrement is on your skin and clothes. You’re gagging as your eyes begin to water. 

Your ears are ringing and sore from all the noise. Your back is aching worse than it ever has, worse than when you backpacked across the country with Joel and Ellie. Your arms are full of pins and needles and going numb, you’re afraid you may drop Francis. Your foot is throbbing angrily. 

And then the floodgates fly open. Your tears are spilling, hot and fast. You’re gasping for air, hyperventilating. Francis is shaking with each jolt of your lungs and you try to still yourself, but you’re powerless against your body.

You sob loudly, almost as loud as Francis. You can’t remember the last time you cried this way. All of your frustration, pain, loneliness, leaving your body and washing over it again in heaving sobs and cries. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry to Francis. “I’m so sorry.” Your voice is thick and wet. 

You try your best to breathe, just like Joel told you. But you can’t. You’re gasping uncontrollably and your nose is full of mucous, blocking you from inhaling and exhaling. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, holding Francis and rocking him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’m so sorry, Francis.” 

You repeat it like a mantra. You apologize to your little boy over and over and over again, for hours.

“I’m so sorry, Francis. You deserve better, sweet baby,” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I was thinking we’d do soup for lunch. Nice and warm, what do you think?” Joel’s voice is faint and muffled through the front door. You perk up slightly at the sound of him and Ellie, but you’re too drained to do anything more. 

“Soup sounds good. But I’ll make it. You burnt it last time,” Ellie giggles. Her bubbly voice is music to your tired ears.

“Did not,” Joel says with disdain for Ellies recollection of events. “How do you even burn soup?”

“I don’t know, man. You’re the one who burned it,”

Ellie and Joel giggle as they make their way through the house, then both of their smiles drop at the sight in front of them. 

You’re half naked, covered in feces and your face is puffy with tears. Your foot is black and blue and ugly as you sit and cry, with Francis naked and messy in your arms. 

Joel says nothing, just grabs Francis from your arms and checks him. Then he moves to you, checking your body and your face. 

“Oh my god,” is all he can get out. “Oh my god.”

You just cry. 

“What the fuck happened?”

Your eyes meet Joel’s, then Ellie’s. They’re both so concerned. 

So you explain how you fell down the stairs, right after Joel left. You don’t know how it happened. You explain how neither you nor Francis have eaten. “We’ve been here for hours,” you get out between sobs. 

“Oh my god,” 

Joel’s eyes are glassy, his voice is shaky. He passes Francis to Ellie. “Need your help,” he says to Ellie. “Clean him up. Please.” 

She nods, holding out her arms to take Francis. “I’ve got him,” she whispers, before taking him into the kitchen. 

Joel helps you up, you yelp at the pain. Your foot aches, so do the rest of your bones. “I know. I know,” Joel mumbles. His heart is broken into a million pieces, he’s in disbelief that this even happened to you.  

He helps you into his arms, cradling you as he walks you both up the stairs. You hold onto him tightly, the smell of his clothes and his sweat bring you so much comfort and relief. Your person is here, and he’s gonna make it all better. 

Joel takes you into the bathroom and removes the rest of your clothes, leaving them on the floor. You sit on the toilet seat as he removes his clothing. You feel like such a failure of a mother. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, now,” he says softly. 

“I can’t shower, Joel. My foot,” you cry. 

“I know, honey’. I’ve got you,” his voice is so quiet, so gentle. “Just for a minute. Just let me rinse you, that’s all.”

Joel lifts you up slowly, being extra conscious of your foot, then lifts you into the tub. He pulls the leg of your injured foot over his hip and wraps one of his strong arms around your waist as he uses the other to turn on the warm water. 

He removes the showerhead and rinses your body, watching all of the dirt and grime leave your skin. Then he places the showerhead back in its spot and switches the water to come out of the bath spout. 

He maneuvers you in his arms to sit down against him in the bath. Your back is pressed to his chest as the warm water begins to fill the bathtub. All that can be heard is the sound of rushing water and your quiet sobbing. 

“Shh,” he hushes you. “It’s okay, now. I’m here. You’re safe,”

“Joel,” you cry, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I know. I know,” he murmurs. 

He holds you like that as the water fills, your sobs are beginning to die down. Joel leans forward to shut the water off once the tub is full, then grabs a rag and some soap to clean your body. 

Only now does it hit you that this is the first he’s seen you fully since giving birth to his child. You look so different now. You curl up, bringing your knees to your chest. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers as he pushes your knees back down. “I only wanna help you, sweetheart. Let me take care of you now.”

He scrubs your body gently, washing away the disaster of a morning you and Francis shared. He can sense your insecurity still. “So beautiful,” he breathes. He’s so delicate with his movements, washing you so tenderly. So full of love and care. “Always been so beautiful, mama.”

You relax into his touch, your head resting on his chest. He’s so warm. So comforting. He feels like home. He tilts your chin up so your eyes can meet his own, so deep and dark. His fingers trace your features, your chin and your lips and your nose. Your eyes well with tears again. 

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” 

“What for, honey?”

“Today. Francis,”

“Hey, now,” he says. “Wasn’t your fault.”

“It was, though,” You shake your head slightly, your bottom lip is wobbling. “I’m such a terrible mom, Joel. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Joel’s eyes fill with tears, they begin to fall down his cheeks. “You’re not a terrible mom,” he hushes you with a broken voice. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that.”

Of course, he knows why you think that. He’s been a little overbearing with Francis, not giving you the opportunity to learn to parent the way he should have. “You’re new to this, honey. That’s all,”

You mumble something under your breath, Joel doesn’t hear. All he hears are your quiet whimpers and sniffles as you stare deep into his eyes. He’s never looked so raw before. 

Some silence passes, and finally he speaks. 

“Sarah was an early walker,” he begins. 

Your brows furrow. Joel rarely talks about Sarah, even now. 

“Once she began wobblin’ on those little legs of hers, I knew she’d be trouble. She’s the reason Tommy and I built a fence,” Joel recounted. “You know why?”

“Why?” you whispered. 

“Well, she was an escape artist,” he says. “I’d be out there, doin’ yardwork or grillin’. She’d be in her sandbox, building little castles and whatnot. I thought she was, at least.” Joel pauses for a second, looking away wistfully. 

Joel continues, smiling now. “Anyway. I’d look back to check on her, and poof. She’s gone. And I’d look across the street, and she’s makin’ friends with the Adlers. Workin’ her charm with them into givin’ her cookies and ice cream. She did it all the time,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Constantly. She did it constantly,” Joel replies. “Girl was trouble. Nothin’ but trouble. So Tommy and I built that fence to keep her from escapin’. ‘Course, didn’t stop Mr. and Mrs. Adler from sneakin’ her treats before dinner.” Joel chuckled at the memory. You did too. 

“She sounds so sweet, Joel,” you say. 

“She was,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s quiet again for a moment, remembering. “I was runnin’ her a bath one night. Right after she learned to walk, you know? And I’m focused on the water, makin’ sure it’s not too hot and not too cold. She’d kick up a fuss if the temperature wasn’t to her liking. Like, exactly. Had to be perfect.”

You smile. Joel is such a wonderful storyteller, you could listen to him talk all day long. 

“Didn’t even notice her leave the bathroom. Thought she was right behind me. I just heard her tumble down the stairs, screamin’ and cryin’. Tommy grabbed her, drove us to the hospital,”

You nod quietly. 

“So they run tests on her, of course. She’s charmin’ the nurse into giving her suckers and toys. She was fine, thank the lord. No bruises, no scratches. Just fine,”

“That sounds so scary, Joel,” “It was. Terrifying. I cried like a baby the whole night thinkin’ I hurt my little girl,” he says. “But you know what the nurse told me?”

“What’s that?”

“She said that babies are rubber. They’re tough. Resilient. Our little boy is resilient too, you know,” 

You look away from him, picking at your fingernails. The guilt is eating you again. 

“You’re new to this, mama. Go easy on yourself, for christsake. You just had him two damn months ago,”

You barely reply, just kind of mumble. You don’t know how to respond. 

“Hey, look at me,” he tilts your chin and to stare into your eyes. He’s deadly serious. “You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re doin’ fine, mama. Shit happens.”

You still can’t speak. His words help, but it was still a terrible day. Maybe one day you won’t hurt over it. He understands, not forcing you to say anything. 

He just finishes washing your body, then dries you off and wraps you in a towel. He carries you into bed, promising you that he’ll get the town doctor over later to check on your foot. There’s a sandwich waiting for you on your bedside table. Ellie. Such a sweet girl. 

Joel leaves you to clean the mess of your clothes in the bathroom and at the stairs, and you eat your sandwich. You feel so much better getting some food in your system. 

After finishing your sandwich, you hear tapping at the door. “Can we come in? It’s me and Francis,” Ellie says. 

“Yeah, El. Come in,”

Ellie tiptoes in with Francis, his hair is wild and curly. Just like Joel’s. His eyes are big and lost. Ellie looks fatigued. “He didn’t like the bath very much,” she says. “But I did give him a bottle.”

“I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble,” you reply. “He can be a little cranky. Thanks for feeding him, El. You’re so good with him.”

“Yeah, I can handle him. We’re best friends,” she says. You can see in her face that she’s exhausted, though. “Right, Frankie?”

You smile softly, holding out your arms. Ellie places him in your hold gently, being extra careful to support his head and neck. She can see the worry on your face. You still feel so unsure of holding him, being responsible for him.  

“Guess what?” 

You look up at her. “What?” You bounce Francis softly.  

“I’m gonna teach him how to say fuck. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” she giggles, that signature smirk on her face. Her eyes are so playful and bright. “And I’m gonna teach him the other ones too. Bitch, ass, asshole, shit, dick, cun-” 

“Don’t you dare corrupt my son, you little shit,” A deep voice interrupts. It’s Joel, standing at the doorway. “Don’t need two demented kids in this house. You’re more than enough.”

“Hey!” Ellie gasps, feigning offense. Ellie sits down on the bed as Joel walks towards her. “I’ll teach your kid whatever words I want, old man. And I’m not demented,” She punches him in the arm playfully. “You are.”

Joel just rolls his eyes, shaking his head. 

You meet his gaze, smiling at him quietly. Francis is asleep in your arms, mumbling and cooing softly. He’s so sweet like this. 

Joel takes Francis from your arms, places him in his crib. Joel looks at Ellie. “Out,” he says. “Mama needs to sleep.”

Ellie gets up to leave, not before giving you a hug. You wrap your arms tightly around the girl, she’s such a good big sister to your baby boy. She doesn’t often hug you, so it’s a welcome surprise. 

Joel meets you on the bed, pulling you close to his body. You rest your head on his chest as he plays with your hair. “Get some sleep, honey,”

You yawn, melting into his body. “Okay, daddy,”

He feels like home.

@swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @venusdemonroe @guiltgoldglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers@angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou show #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #soft!joel miller #soft!joel miller x reader #strang3lov3

[talaok]

The cheating

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You misinterpret a situation and think that Joel is cheating on you.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, misunderstanding *not proofread*

| Request |

"where's Joel?"

"I'm happy to see you too Ellie" you joked, easing her backpack off her shoulders.

"No, I just mean, he usually picks me up from school" she explained

"He was busy today" 

"doing what? What's more important than me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"first of all, I love the way you think, never change it, second off all, I don't really know, he went out in a rush"

"He didn't tell you?"

"no, not really"

"oh I'm gonna have a field day scolding him about not declaring where he's going like he wants me to do"

"he does that because he loves you"

"yeah, well, it's time he gets a sip of his own love" she air-quoted the last word, making you smile.

"you little demon" you chuckled, pulling her closer as you started walking off.

"what the fuck?" you exclaimed, as you swung her backpack on your shoulders "What the fuck do you have in here?"

She looked up at you, a malicious glint in her eyes

"Have you ever heard of books?"

__ __ __

"So how was school?" you asked, as you rounded a corner to get onto the main street.

The wind was blowing but the sun was up in the sky, resulting in the perfect temperature.

The pebbles under your feet sounded with each step as the commune's buildings started surrounding you.

"useless, as usual," Ellie grumbled, her tone scarily matching her dad's. 

"oh c'mon, I'm sure you learned some interesting things"

"nope"

You glared at her "Did you at least have some fun?"

A smile crossed her face "That I did" she said, "Me and Dina found a dead frog!"

"ew! gross!" you grimaced "You call that fun?!"

She laughed "I do, it was so soft and... sticky" She touched her fingers like the feelings still lingered on them, and you watched with more than a bit of terror as her eyes sparkled at the memory.

It was at times like this you wondered just how much she had taken from Joel.

"I'm gonna puke" you commented, making her snort 

"Relax we didn't do anything bad, Dina insisted we gave it a funeral"

"thank god" you breathed a sigh of relief "That poor thing,"

"We buried it under a tree and gave speeches and everything, it was really moving"

"What did you say?" you asked, as you surpassed the refectory

"You know, the usual stuff" she shrugged "How good of a frog she was, how she'll be deeply missed yadda yadda yadda"

"of course" you chuckled "the usual stuff"

She smiled too now "I'm fucking starving" she moaned

"language" you reminded her, and as usual, got in return the same scowl that told you: first just how hypocritical that was coming from you, and second, that she was never gonna listen to you, and you both knew it.

"Why?" you ignored her look "Didn't you eat?"

"Today was vegetable loaf day" she responded like that was enough of an explanation.

"So what? That sounds good"

"it may sound good, but when you get that green goo on your plate I promise you're gonna change your mind"

"goo?" you made a face

"Yes. Goo." she repeated, "They say Ms. Meril dumps all the rotten vegetables into a pot and then adds a special ingredient, that I personally believe to be..."

You had stopped listening to her a while ago as your eyes stared at the image in front of you.

You would have recognized that hair from a mile away.

He was there. Joel was there.

And not alone.

Your eyes fully focused on the man and woman in front of the pub.

You could see they were talking, and not just that.

Her hand was on his chest, as she stood so close to him they could probably taste each other's breaths.

You couldn't see his face, Joel's face, your boyfriend's face, but what you could very well see was that he wasn't pushing her away or protesting in any other way.

If you hadn't known any better you would have thought they were about to kiss.

And just then, you realized that you did, in fact, not know any better. 

You felt your heart speed up, as your feet slowed down, unconsciously coming to a stop.

That's why he had to leave in a rush?

To go fuck another woman?

As much as you felt the rage boiling inside of you like a fire, what really prevailed was the pain of the realization.

You stood there, watching them, as tears clogged your throat.

So much for I love you

So much for I was lost before you

You could physically feel your stomach twist and turn and suddenly you were nauseous.

All this time, you thought, and he's cheating on me

"Hey, you ok?" Ellie's voice was distant, muffled behind the wave of emotions coming at you.

When you didn't respond, she followed your line of sight, still firmly pointed at the pair.

"Oh fuck" she said quietly, making everything worse.

You had secretly wished she would have seen something else, given you an explanation, and laughed at how crazy you were being, but her tone told you everything you needed to know.

"I'm-I'm sorry y/n" 

Never, had you heard her stutter.

"I can't believe this- he's an asshole, I'm gonna-" she took a breath "I'm gonna beat him up, and he's gonna regret this, I swear"

As much as you wanted to laugh, you feared the moment you opened your mouth a sob would have fled it instead.

"I can't believe this" she repeated, and the truth was, you couldn't either.

You were happy. There was nothing that didn't work, you had a great relationship, you barely fought, you loved each other's presence, everything was good... or so you thought at least.

And he had thrown it all down the drain

And for what? For some slut he just met?

No, you immediately stopped yourself, No I'm not gonna be one of those women that blames the other woman.

This is all his fault. 

He's a cheating, lying bastard who doesn't deserve a minute more of my time, you decided, taking a breath.

"Let's go," you told Ellie

She frowned, confused "A-are you sure"

"let's go"

__ __ __

Ellie hadn't left your side for a second. 

You were sat side by side on the couch, your gaze fixated on the chimney in front of you, as Ellie probably rummaged through her mind to think of something to say.

You were frozen. All the anger and the pain mixing together to create a seeming numbness.

"Listen I-" 

Ellie's words immediately stopped when the front door opened.

"Hi, I'm home!" He half yelled from the entrance.

"Hello?" He spoke again once he didn't get an answer.

His heavy steps sounded against the floor as he started walking to the living room.

"Where is every-" he stopped once he saw you "There you are, why didn't you answer?"

The confusion on his face only multiplied once you took both your expressions in.

"what is it?" he asked, clueless "I'm sorry I couldn't come get you today something came up"

"Yeah, something," Ellie remarked, disappointment clear in her tone.

Joel frowned "What are you talking about?" he asked, "what's she on about?" he turned to you now.

You were about to speak when the girl beside you interrupted you.

"You know very well what I'm talking about Joel, don't play dumb"

The wrinkles on his forehead increased as his puzzlement persisted.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," she said "I can't believe you would do something like that, especially to y/n"

"what are you-"

"we saw you" Ellie anticipated his question "In town"

"I don't kno-"

The girl wouldn't let him speak, and you'd be lying if you said that didn't make you feel a tiny bit better.

"there's no point in lying anymore we saw you with our own eyes Joel"

He looked at you once again, and you adverted his gaze to look at the very angry girl at your side.

"thank you, Ellie, but I think I can take it from here"

She hesitated, looking between you two "You sure?"

"yes" you swallowed your nerves away "don't worry"

She shot Joel a look for far longer than necessary and then finally got up.

"alright" she nodded "I'm gonna go next door then, but if you need anything just yell," she said, starting down the doorway, but not before stopping at Joel's side "And you... I'm not talking to you anymore" she decided, getting out and closing the door behind her.

The silence that filled the room was louder than any sound you'd ever heard, except the one of your pounding heart of course.

You stood up, walking to the other side of the couch so you were facing him but you were still carefully distant.

"What is going on?" Joel finally spoke

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that you needed to keep your cool because you're sure as hell not wasting any voice or tears over this asshole

"Joel I know you're cheating on me, or at least have cheated"

"What?"

"When I was getting Ellie home from school we saw you in front of the pub"

You watched as realization crammed his face.

"y/n that was not what you think"

"I'm sure it wasn't Joel" you rolled your eyes "Listen I don't care for any lame excuse or apology, I just need to know one thing... why?" you said "You at least owe me that. Everything was good wasn't it? What was it that made you feel the need to go and fuck some other woman?" for all your promises your voice was getting louder.

"I didn't- y/n I've never cheated on you"

"stop lying!" you burst "Be an adult and fucking own up to what you've done!" 

"y/n" he stepped closer to you and you took a step back.

"stop" You put a hand in front of you, signaling for him to not take another step "Answer my question"

Now he took a breath. And god if you didn't want to punch him.

You're frustrated? You're mad? How do you think I feel?

"y/n" he spoke again, his tone more even, "I swear to god sweetheart I have not cheated on you. The woman you saw me with is Jessie, She's just Tommy's friend. Nothing happened, Of course, nothing happened baby, I love you, you know that. I would never hurt you”

“Oh please, so you're telling me all of Tommy's friends get their mouths that close to yours?"

His lips gaped open, as he struggled to find the right words.

"Alright," he breathed, convincing you you were about to get a confession.

A mix of nausea and homicidal rage electrified your body.

"She is... well, she had been- flirting with me," he said "But I've never led her on, sweetheart, I would never do that, I don't have eyes for anyone but you" he sighed, and his deep brown eyes were pained "Listen," he took a step, and this time, for some unknown reason, your feet wouldn't budge, "My brother called me about an emergency and I rushed there to help"

"an emergency at the pub?"

"just-" There was anxiety and sadness creeping up his voice "Please let me finish, I swear it's not what you think baby"

"fine" you nodded

"I helped him out and he invited me for a drink over at the pub and I accepted. We talked for a while and then when I was about to go, Jessie showed up, and she was trying to get me to go to her house, to which I said no and headed out, but she kept following me until we were outside, and that's when she cornered me and I decided it was time to stop being nice and tell her I don't want anything to do with her"

Silence fell again.

"I can call Tommy if you want, he saw all of this"

"Like he wouldn't lie for you" you commented

"You're right, but you also know how strict he is about these things"

that's true, you had to admit.

"Please sweetheart" he begged, his hand trying to grasp at yours "Y/n I love you, I love you more than anything, I'd give my life for you, I'd do anything for you" he promised "I know it's hard to believe me but I swear to anything and anyone you want that I'm telling the truth. we can even ask Jessie if you want, just please- I need you to believe me" If he sounded desperate it's because he was.

"If that's true why didn't you push her away?"

"I-" he stuttered "I didn't because I didn't want to cause a scene, I just wanted to talk like a civilized person, like you always say I should do more"

You bit your lip, trying to make some sense of the mess in your brain.

"Joel" you huffed "Are you being honest? Because I'm giving you a chance to come clean now and if I were you I'd take it"

"I am" he answered within a second "I am sweetheart, I'd never cheat on you, you're the love of my life for god's sake," he said, his hand finally grasping yours.

You looked up at him, and a dark pang of surprise came over you as you noticed the glinting glaze on his eyes matching yours.

"please" he murmured "I can't lose you y/n, not over something like this. I understand how you could have misread things, I do, but I promise that's not what happened." he breathed "I'm yours y/n, I only want to be yours" 

Your eyes fell to where your fingers intertwined, all the memories rushing back like a raging river.

"You promise?"

"I promise," he said, and you believed him. because this was Joel Miller we were talking about, the man that you had fallen for since he first saved you, and kept falling for each time he saved you again. He was a good man, no, not the traditional definition of that term, but to you, he was a good man, the best man.

"alright" you decided "Seems like I'm gonna have to have a talk with Jessie"

"And I with Ellie" A small grin tugged at his lips

"Oh she's pissed alright" you chuckled "I don't know if I'd do that if I were you"

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller smut #jelous joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #fluff

[spiderfunkz]

─── 𐙚 love ridden

pairings. sam carpenter x fem!reader

warnings. fluff, pet names, established relationship.

word count. 0,5k

a/n ; based on a request from @p0rkbun !! we don't talk about the draft i accidentally posted ok.. my bad... you still get a smooch though mwaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh 💋💋

the night felt alive.

it felt cold too. the thin fabric of sam's jacket wasn't really helping, but it smelled like her. and the mere thought of that made your cheeks grow red. it made you blush, causing your face to feel hot. so, in a way, you were warm.

the colorful carnival lights flashed under the soft sparkles of the starry night. summer was slowly approaching, but spring stood strong.

meaning the carnival wasn't as packed. only a few laughs were heard from children & their parents, with a pinch of angry groans coming from adults losing at the rigged games.

that's probably how the carnival gets their money anyway. stupid games that are made to make people lose. however, the games are strategic enough to make people give even more money in hopes of winning that one big prize.

but sam is never about losing. she came here determined with a straight mission set. to win you a plush of your choice.

you walk around the park for a while. trying all kinds of foods, desserts, and fun drinks. sam's hand didn't let go of your waist throughout the walk. she was waiting for the moment you'd lay your eyes on a prize. luckily for her, while walking you spotted a huge bunny plushie with blue sparkles and immediately knew that you needed it.

sam's eyes followed yours, turning around, "you want that one cariño?" sam asked. you nodded, "you think you can get it for me?"

"anything for my angel,"

sam immediately rushes towards the stand. a balloon dart game, a rather unfortunate-looking one. the balloons seemed like they weren't inflated well, the darts looked dull, but the points seemed fair. though the guy working kept looking at you weirdly.

sam glares at him before giving him a few bucks, in return he gives her six darts and continues to explain the rules.

she wasn't listening though. her eyes were set on that sparkly plush.

"and.. that's it. go on and shoot." the guy gestures towards the wall full of colorful balloons.

sam aims for the red ones since it was the one with the most points, she thinks. there were a lot of them too. so, it should be an easy win, right?

"damn it!"

sam huffed. the last dart was shot and missed. out of six darts she managed to miss four. awful, she knows. but at least they were all red, meaning she got a total of six points, four points away from getting you the prize you wanted.

the guy shrugs, "sorry, man. you win this though." he hands sam a small dinosaur plush.

"the game's rigged anyways," you stated, pulling sam away from the stand. "it seems like it's impossible to win," you added. sam felt defeated, and it didn't help that a kid with the same plush was running past her.

she feels taunted.

"give me another six." she holds out the payment.

the guy smiles, another customer willing to waste money on a useless, impossible, rigged game-

sam shot, shot, shot, shot, shot, and shot.

without missing a single balloon.

she points, "can i get that prize over there?"

hours passed and you went home happily with the plush you wanted, and like five others. all thanks to sam and her intimidating wonderful determination!

and don't worry, you gave her lots of kisses after.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter fluff #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter imagine #samantha carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter #scream vi #scream v #melissa barrera

[ricegobbler]

Hi I happy your open can you do the tfp cons react to finding a pod full of sparkling I head canon them to be small and squishy like mashmellows and cute noises like squeaks and beeps I love sparkling so much they are so cute

TFP Cons react to sparklings in a pod!!

FIRST OFF TY FOR REQUESTING!!

SECOND I LOVE THIS REQUEST. THE EVIL CONS AND SOME CUTE LIL BABIES IS THE BEST THING EVER. unless Airachnid gets to them.

ANYWAYS, ENJOY!!! ILYSM<333

Warnings‼️: mention of death, and other than that it’s just some sparklings aching the cons sparks😈

——————————————————

It was a normal routine on the Nemesis. Soundwave was doing some work, Starscream was probably plotting something to overthrow Megatron, Shockwave was just in his lab doing who knows what, Knockout and Breakdown were prob making out in the medbay, Dreadwing was walking around the Nemesis, Predaking was just planning to kill Starscream, Airachnid? Idfk. And Megatron was prob smoking dark energon in his berth

Just then, Soundwave picked up a signal of a pod that had crash on earth. Megatron sent Starscream and Knockout to go check it out, seeing the two come back with a pod full of sparklings.

wuh oh.

Megatron:

-is kinda disappointed bc he thought there’d be something useful inside, although new sparklings means new soldiers, so it wasn’t that bad.

-he quickly ordered knockout and breakdown to check up the little ones tand wanted results soon after. (He wanted to know if they were in good condition for fighting in the future)

-he’d probably order some vehicons to make some type of room to care for the sparklings. And yes he’d keep them. Why? Well, not only does he want them for the future, but there’s a war happening. He doesn’t want anything to happen to them☹️

-after some time the sparklings had arrived he saw one all alone just in the halls of the Nemesis. He was confused, but he just picked up the thing and as soon as he did it beeped at him, smiling afterwards and started to play with his digits.

Sparkling giggling and playing with one of Megatrons digits.

“Frag..” Megatron sighed.

-after that encounter let’s just say there would be atleast a couple of sparklings taken by the warlord. (He wants to tell them stories of cybertron and his past)

-sometimes you could catch him holding a sparkling or two while ordering some vehicons to do stuff. (He doesn’t scream at them though, they’re lucky a sparkling is near💀)

Starscream:

-he hated them. Hate hate hate hate.

-why? One of them spat on him 💀

-at first he thinks they’re gross and useless. Like, he doesn’t want gross babies around the ship during a war.

-sometimes when he’s ordered to take care of some he’d make some vehicons (Steve) to take care of them instead. He doesn’t have time for gross creatures.

-one day Starscream saw one of the sparklings in his berth, it was left by Steve(he still loves the sparklings, he just got tired of Starscreams bs)

-this specific sparkling was one that was able to at least mutter some things out. So next thing you know, Starscream is telling the sparkling to repeat after him💀

“Repeat after me, little one. ‘Lord starscream’” The sparkling just babbled and giggled at him while he huffed in slight annoyance.

-after that he’d still atleast a couple of sparklings from others just to teach them words like, “lord Starscream” or “master Starscream.” He wants them to know he’s gonna be the lord one day😭

-the more he took them the more they grew to him. Sometimes he’d just take some just bc he wants something to snuggle with after getting his aft kicked by Megatron.

Knockout:

-same reaction as Starscream. But he doesn’t hate hate them, he’s just a little grossed out bc they’re babies (he was rlly grossed out when one spat on Starscream, but it was funny)

-When Megatron ordered him and Breakdown to take care of some he instantly gave them to Breakdown. He doesn’t want anything happening to his paint🙄

-after a while, Breakdown eventually made Knockout to hold one. As soon as Breakdown gently gave it to Knockout, it snuggled into his chassis and smiled up at him. His spark ached. It wasn’t so anything disgusting, it was just snuggling with him.

Sparkling cooing at him with a smile while Knockout started processing his thoughts.

“Hm. You’re cuter and more behaved than I thought..” He mumbled.

-after that the more Megatron would order him and Breakdown to take care of them he is more than happy to. He loves them now. He wouldn’t steal them since he sees them everyday. (They’re babies wondering on a war ship, they’re gonna get hurt🤷🏻‍♀️)

-he’d tell them stories of his races, sometimes he’d lie and say he’d win the races he’s actually lost at💀 he’d also rant to them about drama stories or horror movies he’s watched at the drive in theaters, in return he’d get some giggles and babbles and he loved it<3

Breakdown:

-he LOVES them.

-at first though he was confused, and a little scared. He didn’t wanna step on any of them, they’re so small he has to make sure of his surroundings 😢

-when Megatron first ordered him and Knockout to take care of them he was excited, still nervous tho. When Knockout gave all of them to him he was ecstatic.

-he’d play with them, show them around the Medbay, make them laugh, like omfg he can do this with our babies too ykyk. (IM JPJPJPJP. maybe.)😓

Breakdown just holding a sparkling.The sparkling playing with his digits and giggling. *cue happy tears* </3

-he loves talking to them, he just says random things and they just listen closely. He loves Knockout, but it’s good to talk to someone else in the Medbay too yk?

-He wouldn’t really steal any sparklings since he’d see them everyday either way. (Again, Babies on a war ship.) He loves them very much even if he’s able to crush them☺️

Soundwave:

-he was a little confused, why was there sparklings just in a random pod? Could they all have a carrier? What’s happening.

-he honestly didn’t mind tho since there’s a war happening and sparklings cannot survive in war conditions.

-when Megatron first ordered him to take of some he was more than willing to.

Sparklings giggling while they’re in his tentacles as he works-

-ok. Yeah. He doesn’t know the best way to take care of them, so he just lets them rest in his tentacles while he does work.

-but he’d eventually do more like flash them smiley faces on his visor, play some shows like MLP. (Megatron was caught watching MLP with them once-) and he’d even let them mess with laserbeak. He’s pretty gentle with them, he’s just gotta do work to ykyk.

-when some can’t sleep he’d walk around the Nemesis with one and let them hear recordings he’s taken to make them sleep in his arms. (He’d play like lullabies🥹)

Shockwave:

-he thought it was illogical they were there. I mean, war times, hello????

-he didn’t gaf abt their presence. He’s busy in his lab doing stuff (to me) Jk!!

-But when the day Megatron ordered him to at least take care of one he acted differently towards the little ones.

Sparkling just watching him work, “what is it that your optics are looking at..?” Shockwave asked, the sparkling just giggled at him. Making his spark ache a bit, all he said was, “illogical answer.” 💀

-honestly, it’s nice having someone else in the lab other than himself. Sometimes he’d get to show them how some projects work and see the little reactions he gets from the sparkling(s) (dw the projects r like safer ones)

-he’d make them little stuff too in case they ever get bored while he works. And he’d make little goggles for their optics in case of danger.

-Although, it’ll take him a while to act like this to them. He’s not used to acting so differently around others, especially sparklings. (It’s been a while, give him a lil break-) But he’ll definitely warm up to them dw<3

Dreadwing:

-MY NUMBER 1😍😍😍😍😍

-at first he felt awful. Seeing little sparklings in a pod during war ached his spark. He was like one of the only Decepticons on the ship that still had some good in him.

-when Megatron ordered him to take care of some he did so right away. Not just bc he was loyal to Megatron, bc he wanted to actually care for them.

Sparkling(s) just sleeping in his arm while snoring softly. “I’ll protect you no matter what..” Dreadwing mumbled.

-love this man.😢

-he doesn’t want them to go through anything, especially after the loss of his twin brother. Losing him was enough, losing these sparklings who haven’t even gone through much of life yet would hurt his spark even more.

-he’d cradle them, cuddle, literally anything that’s good. He’d take them from Starscream tbh, he doesn’t want Starscream rotting their brains with dumb bs.

-He’d also take some from others when they’re not looking bc he loves them sm.

-sometimes you could catch him under a pile of them while just smiling or chuckling. (Ima marry this man omfg. HES ALIVE TO ME.😒)

Predaking:

-confused. What’s a sparkling?

-when he’s told what they are he’s a little scared of them. He’s like a cat scared of a little puppy. 😭

-but when Megatron assigned him to take one he instantly warmed up.

Sparkling crawling around and Predaking in his alt just sniffing it. Once the sparkling sneezed he flinched a bit but he loved its small cute beep sound. “You’re mine now.”

-he’d carry some almost everywhere. He’d also give them little ride when he’s in his alt mode. Like he’d let them hop on from his wings and like fly around, not to high though. He’d fly like the perfect height for them.

-you could also catch this dude stealing some sparklings, ending up with him behind buried in them while he rests in his alt.

-he’d especially take some from Starscream and teach them to say nasty things abt him. He’d growl at anyone (mainly Starscream) who tries stealing one from himself.

Airachnid:

-HATES THEM.

-literally she is the last Megatron would assigned the sparklings to. ACTUALLY NO. I DONT EVEN THINK HE WOULD ASSIGN ANY TO HER AT ALL. (I’m sorry Airachnid lovers, it’s the truth tho)

-if she even had the chance she’d probably just leave them. Or fucking eat it.

-although if she’s in her era where she spares the sparklings then she’d probably just feed them and that’s it. Like nothing else.

“Hm. Take this cube, young one.” She said, then walking away from the sparkling who had a confused face.

-other than that they’re dead. She’s eating them for dinner.

Bonus:

Most likely to least to steal the sparklings:

Dreadwing

Predaking

Starscream

Soundwave

Megatron

Shockwave

Breakdown

Knockout

Airachnid

(Like I said before, knockout and breakdown wouldn’t rly steal them since they see them mostly everyday in the medbay, that’s why they’re low)

———————————————

I was supposed to post this yesterday but bc my draft didn’t save I had to start over 😁 (I was so mad)

ANYWAYS HOPE YALL LIKED IT!! REQUESTS R STILL OPEN!

ALSO TY FOR ALL THE REQUESTS BTW, IM TRYING TO FINISH RHEM ALL SO IM SORRY IF IT TAKES LONG :(

ILY ALL!!!<333

#transformers #tfp megatron #tfp starscream #tfp knockout #tfp breakdown #tfp soundwave #tfp shockwave #tfp dreadwing #tfp predaking #tfp airachnid #sparklings #HCS! #oh #TFP cons x reader #tfp megatron x reader #tfp starscream x reader #tfp knockout x reader #tfp breakdown x reader #tfp soundwave x reader #tfp shockwave x reader #tfp dreadwing x reader #tfp predaking x reader #tfp Airachnid x reader #idk what other tags to put leave me alone😢

[nyoomfruits]

ellie!!!!! bodyguard au and first kiss for either lestappen or landoscar, whatever you like best please 👉🏻👈🏻

14. bodyguard au + 41. first kiss

Lando, Oscar’s decided, must be the most useless bodyguard in all of existence. He’s loud, jittery, all over the place. ‘Bouncy,’ his sister had said, when they were first introduced. Oscar’s pretty sure he’s never seen Lando sit in a chair normally. But his mum had hired him, and she’s the queen so she probably like, knows what she’s doing.

Plus, if anything, Lando’s fun. Oscar’s previous bodyguard had been a bit of a stone wall, never really talked to him, just stood there, like a creepy bulky shadow following him around. Lando, at least, is willing to join in on the fun, sprawling himself over the couch in the VIP section of the club Oscar’s friends have dragged him to, in deep conversation with Daniel.

The only indication he’s still working is how he politely declines all shots offered to him, doesn’t get a proper drink, sticks to his diet coke.

And Oscar’s kind of happy to just watch him, the way he seems to be in constant motion, the sparkle of his eye as he talks, the way his body moves. It’s captivating, what can he say.

So captivating he doesn’t notice the commotion near the entrance rope to the VIP area. Doesn’t notice the angry looking gentleman stomping towards them. Doesn’t notice the arm raised, knife ready, until it’s already too late.

But Lando. Lando noticed. And he’s there, in a flash, fist connecting with the guys face in a sickening crack. The guy staggers backwards and club security catches up to them, grabbing the guy by the arms, dragging him away without another word.

Lando watches him go for a second before turning back to Oscar. His jaw is tight, and there’s a fire in his eyes Oscar’s never seen before. “You okay?” He asks, and there’s. There’s a tone in his voice. A dangerous one.

Oscar swallows. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I. Thank you.”

Lando smiles. “Any time,” he says, and Oscar knows he means it.

“Shit,” Oscar says, when the motion of Lando flexing his right hand a little uncomfortably catches his attention. “Are you okay? Fuck, that must’ve hurt.”

“Oh,” Lando says, holds his hand up like he kind of forgot about it. “Oh, yeah. Quite the punch, wasn’t it? I think I caught him under his jaw, the bone there that’s like-“ He gestures at his own jaw. Generally, Oscar could do without reminders of Lando’s outrageous jaw, but it’s whatever.

 “What’s that called?” Lando asks, frowns in thought. “Is it just jaw bone?”

“Mandible,” Oscar says, almost on autopilot. “It’s the largest bone in the human skull.”

“Hm, could put a larger bone in your skull, if you know what I mean,” Lando says, a little absentmindedly as he studies his knuckles. When Oscar coughs, choking on absolutely nothing, his eyes widen, like he only just realized what he’s said. “Shit, that’s not. Fucking hell. Shouldn’t have said that. My apologies, your Majesty. Your Royal Highness? Your Grace. My Lord.”

Oscar can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. So Lando’s okay, then. Himself again. “I told you to call me Oscar.”

“Right. Your Royal Oscar, my apologies,” Lando says, and the twinkle in his eyes says he’s doing it on purpose, at least a little bit. God, it would be so much easier if Oscar wasn’t so ridiculously fond of him.

“Well, come on, my knight in shining armor, I think it’s time to call it a night,” Oscar says, waving at his friends and heading towards the entrance.

Lando salutes, and then follows. Always follows. Oscar wonders sometimes, if Lando knows that Oscar would follow him anywhere, too.

--

(And if the night ends with Lando, pressed up agains the door of Oscar's royal quarters, his mouth on Oscar's, well. That's nobody's business but their own.)

#can u tell i forgot about the first kiss part because i DID 😭 #but this was too fun not to post so. here u go #drabble #landoscar #mctwinks

[miley1442111]

down bad- jj maybank

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: yes, i am a swifty- sorry lmao. I was thinking of doing a story for every track but we'll see how that ends up lol.

intended for fem!reader

summary: based off of down bad by taylor swift

pairings: jj maybank x fem!reader, (platonic) rafe cameron x adopted sister

warnings: break-ups, no happy ending

Did you really beam me up

In a cloud of sparkling dust

Just to do experiments on

Tell me I was the chosen one

Show me that this world is bigger than us

Then send me back where I came from?

It was another party and another useless attempt at calling Jj. You sat in the corner, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids, yet you stayed. You stayed for the small chance that Jj might come. It might’ve been your birthday, but you’d never been less merry in your life.

For a moment, I knew cosmic love

What happened? You two had been the pogue couple. You two were perfect for each other, his teenage petulance, your logical mindset. You were going to college on the mainland, you’d probably bring him with you. At least, that’s what the entire island thought. 

You were his sense. You were his saviour. You stopped his excessive drinking and smoking. You were there for him every time he stood up to his father. You helped him with schoolwork when everyone else had given up on him. You stayed by his side, always. 

And he discarded you. 

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym)

Everything comes out teenage petulance

Fuck it if I can't have him (Fuck it if I can't have him)

I might just die, it would make no difference

Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood)

Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up

Fuck it if I can't have us

I might just not get up, I might stay

You sat there all night, waiting for a sign of him. He didn’t show. He forgot your birthday. He must’ve really been done with you. 

As you swept up the remnants of a party you didn’t want, a familiar voice rang through the house. 

“You alright?” Rafe, your brother. You wanted to scream, but you took a deep breath instead, a pleasant smile on your tear-stained face. 

“Fine,” you lied. “How are you?”

“I heard Jj left you,” he sighed. “I’m sorry-”

“If you’re here to gloat Rafe, I’m not in the mood,” you sighed. “Just go.”

He didn’t move. “I’m sorry-”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hand off you. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m here for you, you know that, right?” 

You didn’t want Rafe to be there for you, you wanted Jj to be there for you. You hadn’t felt rejection and devastation like this break-up. Jj was your first love, your first everything. Every time you closed your eyes you felt his hands on your body, his whispers in your ear, his smile on your skin. 

Down bad (Like I lost my twin)

Fuck it if I can't have him (Down bad)

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

“You’re my everything,” he whispered, a hand dusting your waist. “We don’t have to do anything.”

You shook your head. “I want to,” you promised. 

“You sure princess?” he smiled. You nodded. 

I loved your hostile take-overs

Encounters closer and closer

All your indecent exposures

How dare you say that it's?

I'll build you a fort on some planet

Where they can all understand it

How dare you think it's romantic

Leaving me safe and stranded?

'Cause fuck it, I was in love

So fuck you if I can't have us

(Ah)

'Cause fuck it, I was in love

You opened your eyes again, tears spilling freely. “Get out Rafe.”

“I don’t think you want that.”

“I do,” You sobbed. “I want you and everyone else on this shitty island out of my fucking life! I can’t fucking wait to get out of here, away from you and fucking away from Jj! I hate you Rafe, truthfully, I do. But I hate Jj even more, and you’re just here because your dad asked you to be and we both know it, so if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.”

Jj stilled, the flowers in his hand falling to the floor. You turned at the sound and another choked sob left your throat. 

“Get out of my life!” You shouted, running up the stairs to your bedroom. 

Now I'm down bad, cryin' at the gym (Cryin' at the gym)

Everything comes out teenage petulance

Fuck it if I can't have him (Can't have him)

I might just die, it would make no difference

Down bad, wakin' up in blood (Wakin' up in blood)

Starin' at the sky, come back and pick me up

Fuck it if I can't have us

I might just not get up,I might stay

Rafe sighed and looked at Jj. “What the fuck are you doing here man?”

“I wanted to see her,” he mumbled.

“You fucked her up, get out,” Rafe was baring his teeth. “I’m not telling you twice.”

“Please-” he tried but Rafe just sighed. 

Down bad (Like I lost my twin)

Fuck it if I can't have him (I'm down bad)

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

The summer months passed, you went to the mainland for an internship and slowly tried to forget about Jj. He forgot about you. You dreamt of him every night, wished for him every day.You left thousands of messages. 

He didn’t read them.

Like I lost my twin

Fuck it if I can't have him

Down bad (Wavin' at the ship)

Fuck it if I can't have him

#jj maybank fluff #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank angst #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank smut #obx cast #obx fic #obx imagine #obx x reader #obx rp #rafe obx #obx #obx fanfiction #outer banks

[aetherswhxre]

Be A Good Girl

Dewdrop X Afab!Reader

Summary: Before a show one night, Dew shows you exactly what he can do with his human fingers.

Authors note: This was not a request unfortunately but we were talking in discord about how human form!dew would love to finger you because his claws don’t get in the way and something in me had to write it. I hope you enjoy!!

———————————————-

For the seventh time in the past ten minutes, you felt Dew’s right hand try and snake its way past the lining of your skirt. Sighing, you slapped it away again only for the response of a growl to reach your ears. The couch shifted beside you, the smell of amber and musk clouding your senses as your ghoul shifted closer to you. “Let me touch you,” he snarled low, his hand returning to your upper thigh, gripping it tightly. “Dew, there are others around,” you hissed back at him, your eyes darting to the other ghouls in the room.

Currently all of the band sat backstage in the waiting room, the fans just now being let into the venue. You watched as they mingled about themselves, respectively in their human forms, some more interested in their partners and others drinking to set the mood. Swiss caught your eye over the head of one of his partners and gave you a small smile and offered a wave. As you waved back, you nudged Dew’s leg with your own. “See, people will notice, Dew.”

“And do you think I give a fuck? What about what we did in mass last time? I had you cumming on my cock by the end of the sermon.” Your face flushed as vivid images erupted in your mind. You reached over and landed a solid slap to his chest, a warning slap. “Of course I do, you horndog.” You stiffened as he leaned in even closer, his lips right by your ear. “And it got you so wet, angel face,” he spoke slowly, his glamoured blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand that had been gripping your thigh moved upwards, toying with the line of your short skirt once more. “Can you at least be a little more subtle Dew?” You quickly leaned over and grabbed the nearest jacket - which happened to be Aether’s - and threw it over your lap, concealing what was about to happen below. “That’s my girl,” he smirked, his hands quick to plunge underneath the fabric barrier of your skirt. You shifted slightly, leaning more against him as you spread your legs wider, your nerves quickly becoming flared with arousal.

“I like touching you like this,” he whispered in your ear, “in this form, my claws cannot hurt you.” You jumped slightly as he ran his glamoured hands along your clothed slit, relishing in the way a damp spot quickly appeared. “Relax, Baby. I got you.”

You pulled your phone out of your purse that sat beside you as you pretended to scroll through some useless feed. Meanwhile, Dew’s fingers managed to curl underneath the fabric and skimmed along your wet folds, collecting the dampness on his fingers. Earlier in the day, Dew had decided it would be a good idea to fuck in the small bus bathroom and the remaining essence made it easy for him to slide along your lower lips. Your breath hitched as you felt him run what you imagined was his middle finger in circles over your bundle of nerves lightly.

“God I can smell you from here. You always smell so fucking good,” he rumbled lowly, his face now bumping its way into the crook of your neck. The feeling accompanied by his voice sent shivers down your spine, alighting your nerves with a fire you knew all too well. Your eyes fluttered slightly as you casually glanced up, wondering if anyone had caught on to what was happening on the couch across the room. They all still seemed occupied with their activities. Most of them now probably had a slight buzz after drinking copious amounts of the strong liquor they passed around.

Your back arched slightly as you felt the hand dip lower, his thumb now taking the place of circling your clit as his middle and ring finger journeyed downwards. His middle finger sank slowly into your wet heat as you heard him release a small groan. “If they weren’t here, I’d throw you over the arm of this couch and fuck you until they called me on stage…fuck, why do they have to be here,” he whined, his breathing deep. His finger pumped in you as he moved his thumb in time with each push. You tried to focus on holding your phone in your hand but in reality, all you wanted to do was toss it to the side and fully give in to the pleasure your ghoul was giving to you. “It feels so good,” you whispered softly, a small moan escaping your lips.

The ghoul’s breathing picked up and you could almost hear the sound of his nostrils flaring to take in every small ounce of your intoxicating smell. You sighed again at the stretch of his finger, and while it could hardly compare to the stretch of his cock, it still shot liquid white heat down your spine. And as he added a second finger, your legs had begun to shake. You had added the weight to the tips of your toes out of reflex and you allowed your feet to properly drop back down to the floor. “More, Dew, Ple- Ah!”

Before you could even finish the request, he quickly added his ring finger, plunging it in rhythm with his middle finger. You dropped your phone back onto the couch, your hand reaching under the blanket to grab ahold of his lower arm as something to grab on to. You began rolling your hips, no longer caring who all was in the room. The only thing you could focus on in that very moment was the intense pleasure happening between your legs, hidden from the world. “You like having my glamoured fingers fuck you, Doll? You like being touched by my human form?”

You nodded shakily. “You go so much de-deeper like this,” you moaned softly. His thumb picked up the pace, quickly circling causing you to throw your head back on the couch. Dew took the opportunity to bite and lick at your exposed neck, happily working a bruise into the skin. “De-Dew, I’m so close-“

“I know baby, I can taste it in the air. Now are you going to be a good girl and cum on my fingers so I can play a great fucking show tonight?” You nodded eagerly, spitting out a small ‘faster’. Your ghoul complied, his wrist curling and flexing as he quickly pumped his fingers inside of you. Your climax was quickly approaching, the coil in your stomach tightening with each pump. Clenching around his fingers, you slapped your hand on the edge of the couch seat and gripped it, your nails digging into the leather. You muttered a small mantra of ‘fuck fuck fuck’ as he brought you closer and closer to what felt like salvation.

And with one last flick of his thumb, you turned and this time forced your head into the crook of his neck as you bit down on his shoulder, the rough fabric of his stage uniform harsh against your teeth. Your orgasm washed over you in waves of molten heat, your legs clamping shut around his hand, holding his fingers inside you. He used his strength to keep rolling his hand against you as he pulled the strings of your high. Dew helped you ride out your high as long as he could, muttering obscene things in your ear. “Fucking hell you’re sucking my fingers in, fuck you’re so hot.”

Once you began to come down, shaking against the ghoul, he slowly pulled his fingers from you, pulling them out from underneath the jacket. You noticed with slight embarrassment how slick they looked in the harsh back room light. You watched in a daze as he unhurriedly brought them to his lips. You watched as his glamour broke slightly the moment your taste spread across his tongue. His skin flashed between a normal human skin tone and his natural gray tone on and off as well as his canines elongating slightly. “After the show tonight, I want you to ride me until you can’t even feel your legs. I want to see you in all your glory - as a thank you for another mind blowing orgasm, courtesy of me.”

You landed a half ass slap to his chest again as the loud voice of Swiss echoed across the room. “I knew I smelled something…delicious.” Your head snapped up from where it rested on Dew’s shoulder. Swiss was looking directly at the two of you, a smirk etched into his glamoured face. All of the other ghouls and siblings of sin turned to look, causing you to flush in embarrassment. “Is that - oh come on you guys! That’s my jacket!”

Dew grabbed the black piece of material and balled it up to toss it right at Aether, who caught it and held it out with one hand. “You owe me one, Dew,” he said, his eyes saying that he was indeed not joking. “Yeah yeah yeah, whatever.”

Not even a few seconds later, there was a knock at the door, a staff member poking his head in to alert the band that it was time to go on stage. You now realized you could hear the roar of the crowd outside and you felt the energy of the room completely change. Papa entered shortly after, clapping to get the ghouls attention. “Let’s give it our all tonight, yes? Let’s bring the house down as we worship his unholiness!” The ghouls all cheered as they slipped on their helmets and grabbed their needed items for the stage. Dew got up beside you, holding his hands out.

It had become a habit at this point. Anytime you joined them for their touring rituals, he asked you to kiss each and every one of his fingers, claiming your kisses made him play better. It started out as a silly joke but now he demanded it each and every time. And you took your time kissing his fingers, putting all of the intimate love you had for your ghoul into each one. When you got to the last finger, you pulled it into your mouth slightly, sucking. You felt Dew stiffen, his other hand reaching out to cup your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “When I return to the bus, you better be naked and waiting. I’m fucking you tonight and I don’t give a fuck who hears…”

#nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls x reader #dewdrop #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop x reader #sodo ghoul x reader #sodo ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | Oblivious

type: fluff warning(s): just pure fluff word count: 2.3k words request: Hello🤗 are your requests still open? If so can I request some friends to lovers with mutual pining for azriel. Love your writing by the way☺️☺️ Obviously everyone in the IC notices it and tries to help them a little bit. 

-all rights reserved-

“It was a joke,” you cackle, tears rolling out of your eyes. Azriel is merciless. His fingertips dig into your sides, tickling you with a devilish grin on his face. “A joke,” you pant, your stomach muscles flexing, air wheezing in and out of your lungs. “Stop it!” You try to swat at the shadowsinger’s shoulder, trying to wiggle him off of you, but it is useless. 

“Then take it back,” Azriel orders, trying to act all stern and indifferent as his usual demeanor seems to be. The stress is on usual. When he is with you he is different. 

From the first moment that you and Azriel have become friends he has felt different. He felt so loved —in a friendly way only, of course. It was a feeling that filled his chest with warmth every time he saw you, that made him smile like a dork when just thinking about you and—

Alright, it was not just a friendly way in which he thinks about you. Yes, you started as friends, but gods! Look at you—how should Azriel not fall for you? 

For the shadowsinger it seems like a sheer impossibility to not create feelings for you. In his eyes you are the epitome of perfection. Your laugh, your smile, your cheeky remarks, how you help him out of his loneliness, how you laugh at his jokes, how you are there for him after especially difficult and dreadful missions. How you are generally always there for him. How you have his back, how much you support him and how much you like spending time with him as well. 

“A joke?“ Azriel‘s brow raises in challange, his hand stilling on your hip, holding you down, his other hand pressing down on your shoulder when he leans over you.

“Yes, a joke!“ you try to defend yourself, tears still in your eyes from all the laughter. Your belly hurts, the muscles sore from how much you have cackled in the past minutes. You exhale a loud breath when you meet Azriel‘s gaze, his eyes like heated honey, full of life and light, sparkling with an emotion you can‘t quite place. 

Azriel glancs at you, how your chest heaves with deep inhales and how bright your eyes look, glancing up at him with so much admiration and…love? Is it love? Or is it just love in a friendly way. 

He has no time to ponder any longer when you sit up quickly, coming face to face with him, noses nearly touching, mere inches from each other, breathing the same air. “You have to learn to understand a bit of fun, shadowsinger,“ you drawl, your voice coming out much more breathy than intended. It is probably this closeness that does these things to your body, that makes tiny tingles appear in your belly and your mind lose focus. 

Azriel draws in a deep breath, eyes still locked with yours and only momentarily dropping to your lips before jumping back up. “I understand fun,“ he whispers, lips nearly brushing yours. “I understand a lot of fun.“

“I doubt that, shadowsinger,“ you answer, cocking your head and arching a brow. You just have to leave this closeness, otherwise you would probably make a move and that move would be kissing him. And kissing him…that could not happen. You were friends. He saw you as a friend and a friend only, it would be so out of place to kiss him.

A kernel of frustration blooms in Azriel‘s chest. Has he maybe thought that this would lead to your very first kiss? Maybe, yes. Has he had hopes at least? He definitely did.

But well, you see him as a friend, a friend only, Azriel knows this. So kissing you would have totally been out of place. 

Inhaling deeply, Azriel tries to calm his rapidly beating heart, hoping to slow it, as it is now beating in his throat from just thinking about kissing you. His shadows swirl happily around his body, wings tucking in as they used to twitch from excitement. Too much is somehow happening in his mind and body and Azriel is kind of anxious that the moment he parts his lips to say anything, only weird rambling with leave his mouth. So he forces a weak smile to his lips, hoping that you are the one who says something first. 

“Have you tried measuring?“

Your feisty, quirky mouth, Azriel thinks, bringing his hand up and flicking your cheak. “Yes, you little ass, Cassian has done that a few times already and that is how we know.“

“And if I ask Cass?“

“He will obviously say his wingspan is the largest,“ Azriel says, rolling his eyes, but chuckling lowly. Your eyes are so bright when they meet his that his heart nearly bursts out of his chest. A grin appears on your face, mischievous and wicked and you lean closer again. “Well, how do we now find out who is lying?“

Also leaning forward, Azriel noses presses against yours, his scent of night-chilled and cedar slowly seeping into your nostrils, his shadows peeling of his body, sliding towards you, almost tentatively brushing over your skin. “You just trust me and that is it. Unless you want to measure. I would love to see how you ask the High Lord if he is willing to do it.“ 

His brow arches in a cocky way, challenge and confidence lacing his features. You smile, his warm breath tingling your skin, his closeness having your heart beat frantically. “Maybe I just–“

“Games evening is about to start!“

You are almost fuming, wanting to stand up and let your palm make contact with Cassian‘s face. But no, you are not violent and there is no blame to place on Cassian. 

Rapidly snatching your heads back, you both lean as far away from each other as it is possible from sitting on the couch. Colour blooms high on Azriel‘s cheeks, his shadows vividly encircling their owner. You feel warmth fill you from your cleavage up to the top of your head, your cheeks a deep beet root red. 

“I-I…I—“

“I think we should go to—“

“Family dining you,“ you finish for him. Smiling weakly and slowly wiggling of the couch. You wipe your hands, that are clammy with sweat, down your thighs, clearing them off the sweat. Azriel also stands, clearing his throat, rolling back his shoulders and craning his neck before adjusting both his pants and shirt, nervously pulling fumbling with the edges. 

You mumble some incomprehensive words under your breath when you head for the door, Azriel letting you go first and you slide into the big family dining room where everyone is already sat around the table, leaving only two places  between Mor and Cassian empty. Two places for Azriel and you. Because, other than the two of you, the Inner Circle is not so oblivious. They know of our equal pining and know that you two are just two fools in love who are just a but too blind. Cassian happily pats the place next to him, signalling for Azriel to take a seat while you stroll over to Mor‘s side and plop down on the chair next to her. 

“What have you been up to? Cass called at least four times before you finally reacted,“ Nesta chuckles and shoots you a wink. A wink that has you blushing even more, because you are almost one hundred percent positive that she knows exactly what you two have been up to. Obviously Nesta has always noticed you or Azriel stealing glances at each other during dinner, during training, during…basically everything. And yes, both of you always says that you are just friends, but Nesta sees right through it. Sees right through the lie and knows you two are just too blind. 

“Just talking,“ you quickly answer, grabbing the wine bottle from the middle of the table and pouring some into your glass. “Must have been an intense talk,“ Cassian chuckles.

You meet Azriel‘s gaze who sits down next to you, his lips forming a grin that has you giggling loudly. Your gazes locked, you both laugh, because yes, the talk has been intense. Somehow at least. 

You find yourself in your own bubble for a moment, both laughing at this insider, eyes not once leaving the other‘s, cheeks rosy, heart swelling and chest warming. Only Rhys clearing his throat fetches you back to reality. He places a stack of all kinds of games on the table. 

Game night is also always intense. No one really likes losing, all of you are quite eager and so you all give your best, battling each other and trying to beat each other with wit, intelligence, speed or knowledge. 

“Cheating!“ Cassian hollers and shoves Azriel who tumbles onto you. He catches himself with bracing his hand on the table, still his shoulder and head knocks against you. Glancing at you, a few strands of onyx hair topple over his forehead and you really have to try hard not to push them out of his face. Laughing you both turn away from each other after another round of intense eye contact. You are feeling so hot and actually want to announce that you want to take a break and head outside on the balcony for a moment but Rhys interrupts you and throws in another game. It is a game about tactic and speed and it is played in pairs and obviously everyone immediately decides that you and Azriel will be a team.

A little bit tipsy from the fairy wine you excitedly express your happiness about being in a team with him and that you will beat everyone asses. Azriel, although he knows it is probably the effect of the faery wine, can‘t suppress the big grin, reaching from one ear to the other, to creep up on his face. Because, yes, he is also more than happy and excited. You are merciless–the others don’t even have a chance to win, having to play against to very competitive and eager opponents. And yes, Azriel and you obviously win, celebrating your big success, loudly and happily. Well, you do. Azriel stays his normally calm and reserved, holding your hand while you jump up and down, waving his hand around in the air and telling everyone to take a good look at the two glorious winners. And yes, the fairy wine has definitely been a bit too strong. 

But Azriel loves this. Loves seeing you like this, behaving this free-spirited and excited. He watches you with admiration in his eyes, his heart swelling with happiness and pride about having someone like you in his life. 

Only after another round of the same game and you really needing some fresh air does Azriel finally get some time alone with you. He leads you out onto the balcony, his scarred hand softly placed on your lower back, shoving you through the door and guiding your over to the railing. The night is calm, a bit cool, but nevertheless more than peaceful. 

Velaris is bright with fairy lights when you look down on the city, some chatter, laughter, music still reaching you up there. It is beautiful, phenomenal and once again you can only thank the Mother for making this your home town. Not only because of the beauty of the city but also because of the people living here. Azriel being one of them, the most important you might say. 

“So…” You draw in a deep inhale, hands braced on the railing, leaning against it and looking up at the sky filled with stars. 

“That was fun,” Azriel says, his voice barely above a whisper when he leans against the railing as well, his gaze moving to you, staying. “You look beautiful today, by the way. Always actually, but especially tonight. I love it when your hair is down. It looks really…nice,” Azriel blabbers, colour filling his cheeks. He averts his gaze for a moment, the cocky confidence from early vanishing, leaving a slightly shy shadowsinger behind. But he looks back to you, bracing his feet on the ground and bites down on his lower lip.

“Actually you look stunning. Y/N, I…I really like you.” He is smiling fully and bright when you also turn to him. The sky illuminates behind him, it is close to Starfall, some spirits and stars already travelling above your heads. He looks stunning, like a god of midnight. 

“I really like you, too,” you say, closing the distance between the two of you, your hands sliding over Azriel’s. Your chests are nearly touching when you glance up at him, Azriel is still looking at you. “More than just as friends?” You dip your chin, a silly grin plastering your face. “Yes, more than just as friends.”

A relieved sigh slips through the spymaster’s lips and in an instant his arms wrap around you. “Thank the Mother. I have…or still am falling so hard for you. Gods, Y/N, I love you.”

“I love you,” you express and cannot hold back any longer. You close the distance between your mouths, your heart doing happy leaps when the soft skin of his mouth comes in contact with your lips. You almost melt into the kiss, your souls glowing about finally united, about finally finding their equal. You revel into the kiss, into his soft touch, into the feel of Azriel’s lips against yours, his shadows brushing over your back, his scent filling your nostrils. This is it. This is perfect. 

“You are perfect.” Azriel pulls back and smiles. “More than anything I could have ever hope for. Are you mine now? Finally.”

“All yours. And you are mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag): @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @lena-davina @bsenpai  @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbitxh @cityofidek @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highlady-ofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acosf

[smileyyoungchan]

Left Alone - C.S.C.

Inspired by: Left Alone by Sleeping With Sirens

Genre: Angst

Summary: falling out of love and realising it.

Note: this is bad. I had a stream of consciousness and wrote this down, it’s probably full of errors and it sucks, but still.

I love this song so please give it a listen!!

You sitting in front of your boyfriend at the kitchens table.

That’s how your morning started. Almost like every single one of them.

But that morning something felt off.

Your boyfriend.

Could you really keep on defining him like that?

All of your heart wanted that continue, but it’s was useless.

Falling out of love it’s probably a normal part in the life of everyone.

But why did it felt so wrong for you?

He was the love of your life, right?

You wanted to spend every single moment of your life with him, right?

Then why, right now, the only good thing seemed to let go?

“Hey”

His voice, the most gentle tone ever, made you realise how into your head you were.

He didn’t minded, he was used to that.

You moved your eyes, from the mug you were holding in your hands, to his eyes.

Those deep brown eyes you once loved.

Or you still loved… maybe not anymore.

“We should… probably talk”

He added, once your eyes met.

Did you really?

Probably not.

Both of you knew how things were going.

You truly loved each other, but more like good friends now.

How does one falls out of love? You couldn’t really explain.

You couldn’t even pinpoint the moment you understood that. It just happened.

SeungCheol was sitting on his chair, his fingers anxiously fidgeting with the mug.

“It’s okay. There’s nothing really left to say”

You said gently.

There was no need to be harsh. That moment was already too difficult for both of you, you didn’t need to harden it.

“And… I don’t need you to explain.”

You placed your hand on his, warmth of your skin spreading on his, but you felt nothing.

You remembered the first times he held your hands. Sparkles and electricity buzzes could be felt all over your body. Not anymore.

It was like holding your best friend’s hand.

You still gave him a smile.

He didn’t answered. He just moved his sight. From you, to your hand.

You knew that he was thinking the same thing.

How your hand felt right on his, but not as much as it did back then.

“Yeah” he whispered.

“There’s nothing we can do to make it work again, right?”

He asked, looking back at you.

His eyes were sad, but probably yours were as well.

It was weird.

Both of you kept hanging onto that relationship just cause it was routine for you, not because you were being happy in it. Scared to let go cause you spent your last eight years under the same roof. Everyday and every night.

“Cheol”

You said softly, and he smiled a bit hearing his nickname that you kept using.

“We don’t need those lies. It can’t work anymore and, you know, maybe it’s better this way. Maybe we should just move on and keep those wonderful memories as they were”

Your hand gave a small squeeze to his, and he moved his a bit, holding yours.

He smiled. It was a sad smile.

“You’re right”

His voice was soft and if you weren’t that close to him you probably wouldn’t have been able to hear him.

Other minutes passed. Still looking into each others eyes, while your hands kept being connected.

Yeah.

That was the last morning you two spent together.

But at least, the memories of that relationship weren’t painful, and you both enjoyed it a lot.

#seventeen drabbles #seventeen imagines #seventeen #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #scoups angst #scoups x reader #scoups #scoups x you #scoups x y/n #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #Spotify

[stwarr]

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ρα𝗂𝗋𝗂𐓣𝗀! ⌗ . . ; ᴍᴜɪᴄʜɪʀᴏ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓍢ִ໋ 🌷͙֒ 𝗍ω ⌗ . . ; 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 ᥣ𝗂𝗍𝗍ᥣ𝖾 α𐓣𝗀𝗌𝗍

🌷͙֒ αᑲⱺυ𝗍 ⌗ . . ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴜɪᴄʜɪʀᴏ𝗌 ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇs

You are waiting for your boyfriend, Muichiro, who said he'll meet you after his mission is done. And it was, but he wasn't coming.

You eventually start to eat the foods you brought from different stands by yourself since you've got hungry and bored all alone. You hummed.

You didn't understand why he wasn't coming, you've waited for an full hour and a half now. You gazed at the clouds with a gloomy, worried face.

You really cared for him and couldn't handle the fact that he will die at some point, later or sooner. You both knew being a hashira is dangerous but yet here you are.

Growing more and more worried, you came to the conclusion that he probably got injured and can't come. Just as you were about to get up but your boyfriend crow brings a letter.

The crow huffed at you. It didn't like you, well it didn't like anyone except your boyfriend but you didn't mind it at all. You nod at the little companion.

You take the letter from the crow and you already knew from who it was. You open the letter and you started reading the simple handwriting that you recognized.

From Muichiro Tokito.

I'm sorry, dear. I've got very injured in my last mission so I can't come. Shinobu said that I have to stay here for at least two more weeks. You can come visit if you want to! Please stay at my mansion while I'm not!

For my lovely y/n

You couldn't help but feel bad and useless even though it wasn't your fault, actually, you even wanted to go with him but couldn't. You sigh and quickly make your way to the Butterfly mansion.

You reach the Insect pillar mansion and hurry your way to Shinobu. "Hello there, Y/n, perhaps you are here for Muichiro, right? " She greeted you.

You nodded. " Follow me then." She smiled at you. She leads you to a room. " You can go, but don't stay much dear, he needs to rest. " Shinobu warned you while walking away.

You open the door and see him in the simple hospital bed. "Muichiro! Are you okay? I'm sorry... " You said rushing to the bed. He nodded as his eyes started to sparkle like stars.

" Why do you said sorry? It's not your fault. We both knew this will be a dangerous occupation. " He smiled at you softly. You looked down at the floor.

You nodded, as you let out a sigh. " Y/n, I want you to stay at my mansion for the meanwhile, please. " He looks at you. You take your eyes off the floor and look at him, making eye contact.

" Alright, I'm gonna miss you, you know. " You smile back at him, trying to cheer yourself and him up. " I love you. " He said as his eyes sparkle even more at the words.

You knew he means it, that's pure proof. His mint colored eyes never sparkled, well, till you appeared. You changed him and you were proud of yourself.

You go up to him and give him a little peck. " You better return fast!" You said in a playful tone. He chuckled slightly as a response. " I can't help but return to you, no matter what" He said.

You gasped, his words entered your heart at the speed of light. Your cheeks heat up a little too. " Take care! " You said as you turn your back to him and wave.

This boy. You can't help but to think to yourself. You adored him with your whole entire soul. You exit the room, you knew he needs to rest after all.

After a while you reach his mansion. You quietly look at the large house and grinned to yourself. You had the keys, it was in case he forgets them somewhere.

You reach the door and get the keys, you unlock the house and your other hand reach the doorknob. You open the door and open the lights.

You leave your shoes behind. You almost runned towards his room. You didn't knew why you are rushing so much, you just followed your heart.

Your eyes lay on his demon slayer corp's uniform on his bed. Your heart starts beating faster. You smiled to yourself as you felt joy.

You make your way towards the exciting pieces of clothing. You quickly decided to wear it. You undress yourself quickly and get the clothing in your hands.

You smell it, it was washed. Then you bring it to your chest, hugging it. You start to dress yourself, carefully, not trying to cause any harm to the cloths.

The long sleeves were covering your hands and it was the same for the pants except with your feet. It felt comfortable but a bit thick too, for winter. Your eyes can't help but to sparkle brightly.

You hug yourself. A rush of happiness entered deeply inside your heart. You weren't gonna be that lonely in the meanwhile after all.

꒰🌸꒱ ᴀ/ɴ ; ; ɪ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ ғᴇᴇʟ ᴘʀᴏᴜᴅ ᴏғ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ sᴍ ʀɴ! ₊ ⊹

#kny fluff #demon slayer x you #demon slayer x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny x you #kny x y/n #muichiro tokito #muichiro x reader #kny muichiro #muichiro x y/n #muichiro fluff #muichiro x you

[crying-fantasies]

First contact blues

Masterlist

A bond shared between spark siblings, twins, is like a river, a constant flow of energy, emotions, feelings, some have bonds so strong and hard that they can feel everything the other does, be it love, be it pain, to the point that is physical even when they are apart by a whole galaxy, other are like the opposite sides of a magnet, once a single being but now so different that sometimes they can't even share their bond to the fullest.

Then you have them, harmonious as they are, combative as they are, they make it work, they make it bare results, the coldness and bloodlust they share shines the brightest among the soldiers, there is no need for a heavy tank, there is no need for a fast speedster, they are the best gunners the Autobots ever had, so, imagine his disgust when Sideswipe's spark fluctuates with affection, seeking out and burning for a single touch while smiling your way, his feelings, his emotions, as expected, flow in their bond like heavy lithium, so sweet it's sickening, so kind it's full madness, all because he got a hold of a servoful of soft squishy that didn't scream at him, curious strange eyes that seemed to look at their bare spark, Sideswipe has show affection for others more than once, Sunstreaker has done the same on his and on his own terms, they have never been in the same page when it comes to mates or berth partners, and they respect that, and he should respect this one too, but it still angers him with no end when you look at Sides like this, so much affection while he smiles like a mischievous sparkling, you take a moment to return a similar smile, it's fleeting, like it didn't exist, so short and in fact as vain and useless as anything that comes from your own existence.

At first it takes some time to notice what is happening, he has to make a second glance in your direction to be sure about what is seriously happening before righteous fury builds on his processor, sure to blow him a gasket.

"You sure it doesn't hurt?"

Sunstreaker almost laughs after hearing you, Sideswipe hasn't such reservations, laughing sincerely from the spark when Sunstreaker should have made fun of you, he still wants to but prefers to shut the bond to stop filling it with happiness as a digit on Sideswipe's free servo gets that abhorrent thing called hair from over your strange organic optics, "you wouldn't hurt me even if you wanted to".

His brother was right, or in other moment that would be the case, as you are seated on Sideswipe opened mid arm armor doing Primus-knows-what on his internal circuitry, is in moments like these that he is sure if one of your greasy organic digits loosen at least a cable he could probably forget of firing a blaster ever again; this is so wrong, and Sunstreaker should do the right, sensible thing that is to call Ratchet and stop you from touching his brother in such way inside their shared habsuit, maybe you have infected him with something to this point.

Instead, Sunstreaker does the best next thing and more available for him, he shows up, not even knocking first because this is his fragging habsuit too, he doesn't care about the way you two visibly get startled by his intrusion, he could expect it from an organic like you, totally pinpointing it to your lack of proper EM field and not because you already know your way in the basics of their limbs to be focused on your work, but his brother? He almost takes it personal when Sideswipe's field covered your archaic one, protecting you and showing he had his defenses low in your presence.

Sideswipe has never been like that, not when they were forged and tossed in Kaon, not when they had to struggle in the city or in the war, what have you done to his brother?

At least he doesn't have to waste his words to have you gone, getting a surprised glance before getting back at what were you doing, patching whatever you were touching inside there before giving space for Sides's armor to close back again, flexing his digits, he has never seen those going so smoothly.

"Better?", You don't even want to see him, instead giving him your back and collecting those strange little tools that looked like a sparkling's first medical kit- is that a jar with dirt?

The scowl on Sunstreaker's face only deepens when Sideswipe moves his digits in front of him, showing off, "Much better, alright".

In all the exchange you say something about seeing them later, most likely only Sideswipe, but it gets over his brother helm as he keeps on showing off his new more faster fist, Sunstreaker on the edge even after you're gone, in any other circumstances, like before he got out of base in his personal search, or before he didn't talk with anyone after recuperating, you would have chastised Sides and tell him to leave his brother alone.

He hasn't heard a word out of your dermas directed to him since he got out of the brig, putting everything you had to say when he marched out that night, only receiving a comm from Sides asking what had he done, a message that repeated when he was finally awake and his frame was complete, perfect, once again, as it was all supposed to be; he believed, stupidly, that Optimus wouldn't need the humans anymore after everything they did, but you all had open invitation to the Ark.

You're mad, but it didn't stop you from coming back and still linger around them, one thing was to be a wandering thing around but now you even remained here more than once in the night cycle when you would go out before.

Sideswipe is mad, but he tries to cover for it, taunting him with stupid jokes to get a raise and be able to punch him with a reason good enough as self defense.

He's mad, because his space is intruded, because he has to see what his brother is up to, more times than not, spending time with you, going as far as to saying: "If you feel so lonely, why not go see Hunter?", before saying sorry, knowing how that point of his life is still a great problem for him to cope with.

They are mad, they've gone way more than just the expression of the word.

Majority try to look out for the swarm, the ones that can shoot back do so with gritted dentae, discharging their anger in every blaster or bullet used thinking that they're putting down another decepticon, think of other things away from it, just to be reminded of organic faces, smiling ones, strange water like optics looking at them with awe, before simply gripping what they can to charge off all the worry, he has seen Hound do it, Mirage too.

Jazz, as if his smile could no longer keep on in his usual facade of positiveness, only looks around, already on the edge, making continuous rounds in an effort to guard Optimus in his most debilitated state, they have hear him listen to human music, human words, and they know he is also worried by the humans they left behind to be arrested by their authorities, only expecting what is to come for them in the moment they realize the decepticons are there, or the moment the decepticons realize they're close to one another, or the moment humans start to get one point to another and notice some of them knew of the cybertronians already on the planet.

They have seen it happen more times than they could really want as Ratchet worries himself, thinking of Jimmy, Verity and Hunter, to what the enemy, human or decepticon, may do without anyone protecting them and the truth gets out, if it hasn't already.

First contact results, seems like it, when you worry in such a way for an alien race that has never been in a war as horrible as theirs, and fear for what is to come just because you weren't careful enough or because you couldn't stop yourself from a little diversion outside of the war, something to forget about it and everything you lost with whatever the new planet would bring you, just to see it gone in a sea of fire, if Magnus was here everyone that had contact with the humans or, Primus forbid, even took them to their base was going to be lectured to the Earth and back to Cybertron.

Sunstreaker should know, as he feels the nauseating feeling of dread and anger creep in his spark chamber before he gives Sideswipe a very well earned hit to the helm, because he doesn't want to be remembering you in this right moment, much less with a ground shaking fear that comes from a gun pointing your little helm, an image created by the sick imagination full of what if taking the worse turn possible because the gun on such image is Megatron's.

Not his problem.

Sideswipe may be short of an arm and his fuel is almost nonexistent, but he worries about you first as it was mandatory.

Sunstreaker hates it, because it drags him in, and he shares the image by how hard and how much Sideswipe thinks of it, combined with his natural talent of creativity, drawing a desolating future picture that has them both boiling the few energon they have left on their lines before he shuts the bond for good, before the bleeding spark of his brother tries to reach out again for comfort, he can't deny him.

"Keep your processor down for a few clicks or get away from me", there is no softness in his words as he remembers on his own, how they took Sideswipe's arm by force right in front of him, his brother gives him a look, "why are looking at me like that? I told you over the bond to stay near! It's not my fault you ended like this!"

It was enough molten anger to keep him going, he didn't need to think, he didn't need to remember.

It wasn't his fault that everything became like this.

"I never said it was", fear gripped his spark for a second, shutting down the bond faster than ever, his brother didn't seem to know or feel, only referring to his missing member while touching the fast work they had to do in order to prevent him from leaking to death, flexing his digits, proving once again the fruit of your progress, "I'm just... I wish I could've said see you later at least".

Sunstreaker wasn't know for his patience, in the past it was almost neverending for his own brother, but even now it was running quite dry when another image of you with a gun in your head appeared, "Just let it rest, Primus damn it".

Saying it, demand of such, is wishful thinking, Sideswipe is worried and also drags Sunstreaker down for other reasons, everything happens way too fast for his own liking but not for Sideswipe, for him this is going on so slow, like a sick torture.

One moment, he is looking at the betrayed expression of his brother, the other half of his spark, the next, he can't even feel his digits move, he can't activate his optics, fear takes his spark at believing he has lost all visual sensors and when he tries there's a huge desire to remain blind once again.

The body of his brother is what greets him when said sensors are, apparently, activate, he doesn't know how much time goes by, but he has long stopped trying to even reach the supposed carcass or the accusations coming from it before his solitary dementia takes a turn for the worse.

"Sunstreaker".

That isn't Sideswipe voice.

Air chokes on his ventilation system, bringing his real body back online if only for a moment, he can hear, see, and all around him is the destroyed bridge, the corroding frames above him, there is nothing, but the voice calls once again, he realizes it's coming from his mind.

"Do you think of anything else that isn't you?", your voice, this supposed voice of yours, comes from his databank, Sunstreaker knows you once said those words, but never with that little smile, the same you would give to Sideswipe all the time, the same you showed when he at least viewed you like a wild animal inside his home since you didn't do a mess around you, a glitch of his memories, corrosion has made it's way to his brain processor, he is sure, this isn't real, you never said those words like that, he tries to deny it, you've never talked to him in that way, words that sting but heavy with sweet softness, how long has it been since he heard another being talking, at least in his head? If this was the real you, he realizes, he would have been pleased to hear you, and once he focuses enough, he can see you, and it's fantastic, it's part of his broken mind but it will torment him anyway, "They all could've died".

Your smile is soft, your words sting, and he reacts in a defensive way.

"No one died!"

"Sideswipe could've died".

"He didn't die! I made sure of it!".

"Earth could've died".

The phantom of you is worst than any illusion created by a phobia shield, as it whispers in his audials, so near to him, your hands get near his faceplate and, as disgusting as he feels, his biolights are bright, his EM field sends a hot pleasurable wave when the expectation of touch after so long is almost a reality before you stop, centimeters before touching him, his spark cries out for contact after so long as he grunts in frustration, "I could have died".

"You didn't", conviction drips from his words, the need to move just a tad bit more, memories of your little organic servos touching and getting debris out with delicacy, as if you could damage him.

He wishes to have know how your skin felt, how it would have been without those gloves, so he could use it now, he gets to see your hands again, but they are rotten meat and bones in front of him.

Sunstreaker screams, he screams your name with worry, with sadness, with anger, there is nothing he can do to stop it as he tries to stop it with his servos as if stopping a leaking line it was.

Kill them all

Your voice isn't yours anymore, the way your eyes look at Sideswipe isn't there anymore, and the decaying of your body keeps on going as if you got the rust disease.

Sunstreaker wants to scream again, call for help, help for him, help for you, Sideswipe, Ratchet, Prowl, Ironhide, Optimus, someone, just someone.

Kill all the humans

He wants you to stop, wants to tell you it isn't true, yell it so hard his vocalizer malfunctions just to make you believe him, it wasn't him, he didn't mean it! He just couldn't forget it! He couldn't handle it any longer!

Kill all the humans for what they did to me

"I didn't-", regret is something he didn't need, tears are things he saw as part of the most weak, but he can't stop himself, "I didn't mean to- I didn't- I'm sorry-", and he sees it again, the image of you with a gun directed to your head, he can see now the reflection of his actions as now Starscream's blaster is pointing at you, Sunstreaker has little time to even form a word, try to move, or even think before the image is processed or before the blaster has already been shoot right in front of him, right through you.

All he can do is look at your moveless body in an ocean of hundreds at his pedes, in front of him, blood gushing out of them, to then realize the blaster is on his own servos.

It was an image that keeps repeating, over and over, a sickening response with no answer from you at his pleads to stop, to come back, and then you're no longer, a face putrid and lost in the corroding meat around.

As the real you is holding Sideswipe's servos in your tiny hands, hearing him lament his fallen brother with gritted dentae, holding back tears of ire and grief as he asks you to stay with him, stay where he can keep you safe when the images of your face are show in the TV as you were a criminal, footage of you being chased by Sideswipe in the week filled with angry in your own pettiness, but now there is so many people being questioned about strange driverless cars and why they were near them.

Optimus said he was sure your government would see reason and understand the situation, but you are human, you know your people better, you feel uneasy when they talked with the autobot leader, that strange doubt making a pit in your stomach, your family begging you to come back home, away from the aliens, pointing at them like they were the ones to destroy New York not long ago.

And Sideswipe, who always thinks first based on his instincts, holds you tenderly by your hands, almost begging you not to go because he doesn't trust them, because when he found Hunter he noticed, those machines were made by humans, were made to massacre your own, for what reason? Information? Subjugation? He doesn't know and he doesn't want to try his luck with what mess humans and decepticons could do.

Who is to tell if there isn't something bigger among the lines in front of you? Waiting for the moment you step on a trap, he has seen it happen so many times to so many good autobots before.

"Don't go", Sideswipe exclaims once again, his hold is gentle, warm, as he has always has been, but there is that new urgency, his usual mischievous tone is long gone and is replaced by genuine hurt, one you've never heard before, "don't go with them, stay here, I'll- I will take care of everything, you can't- I can't-".

His vocalizer is glitching, resetting more than once, he is hiccuping like one would do if the tears and sobs were overwhelming, it pains you to see him like this.

How could you leave him now?

How could Optimus tell you to go with Jimmy and Verity when you hug his soldier as far as your body can permit with a delicacy reserved for refined glass? The answer is simple, he doesn't, and he tells the humans so, because they can interrogate every human they had previous contact with if the questioned party wants so in the first place, and when they demand otherwise he only claims he bases it on humanity's own law system.

As if they wouldn't change it in their favor just to get a little more of information on the alien race.

Or even care when you make a run for it with them as their helms now have a price.

"I'm so sorry, Sides", sincere words bloom before he can stop you, or have the energy to do so, "I'm sure Sunstreaker is now in peace", your chant, your spell, goes long and beyond, and while the truth is heavy in his glossa there is a real truth he can't forget.

Sunstreaker tried to kill humanity.

And that true fact weights heavy on him as he chooses to destroy the idea of silence over the sincerity that wants to reach you from his spark, one that wants to tell you, knowing full well that he couldn't blame you if the final decision was for you to leave him too.

It's what he expects, it's what is going to happen, but even when your family tells you in shouts to come to them Sideswipe sees that look in your eyes, one that only brings him to peace as your hands take his servos with a force that doesn't seem to come from your body, "I'm here", is what you said, there is terror on your expression but you are trying to be strong for him, your body going as far as it can to embrace part of his faceplate, hold him together, "I'm not going anywhere, Sides".

Your words are true, until one day you try to clean, getting inside Sunstreaker's part of the habsuit, and find the lost cashmere blanket, tucked into a secret compartment in a delicate way even when it's torn in some places, not knowing what to do of it as the newly gifted hair clip starts to weight on you as if it is cursed.

Realizations take time in some occasions, this one took you long enough, years of obliviousness, years of living and learning of their culture to take your notice, the implications of it, and you don't know how to answer to it when Sideswipe calls your name from outside the habsuit, servos full of your things and his, ready to go to your new shared habsuit with your roomie in Autobot city.

#reader insert #x reader #transformers #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #angst #transformers idw #transformers x human reader #tf sunstreaker #idw sunstreaker #tf sideswipe #idw sideswipe

[narrators-journal]

Hi! I am a huge fan of your work! (Especially winter is a lovely season for romance and funerals; you really know how to make a guy cry!)

I wish there was more ryomina content out there, so would it be possible to write a pinning Makoto that’s in denial about his feelings for Ryoji (first love sorta vibes?!?!)? (Crushing on the popular guy?!?). He could have internalised homophobia or he could just straight up just be in denial, but I’ll leave that up to you!

Thank you for reading this request and I hope you have a wonderful day!

I’m so happy you enjoy my fanfic! WISRF is my baby rn, and I hope you don’t mind the super slow updates, I’m doing my best with it. In the meantime, I hope this holds you over, because! Oh my god, if you want more Ryomina content?? You came to the right lady!! I love these two with such an aggressive love. For example! When I finished this one, I had to click off of Tumblr so I didn’t post it too early. I ITCHED to post it. I don’t care if this is super polished, it’s not the fanfic. I can be a bit more lenient. I just wanted to have fun and enjoy the change of pace.

So! It’s a bit vague, but I went ahead and implied Minato’s a bit of a yandere for Ryoji as well as in denial.

Winter was probably Minato’s favorite season. The way the sunlight made blankets of snow sparkle like a sea of diamonds, the crispness of the air, the excuse to wear comfier clothes and stay under warm blankets, how peacefully quiet everything was due to the birds and animals either hibernating, hiding from the ice, or south for the season. It was all a blissful reprieve from the torturous heat of summer or the pollen-choked air of the spring months. Not to mention, Ryoji mochizuki had transferred to gekkoukan in those colder months.

Ryoji Mochizuki. Tall, around 5’11, with dark brown hair that was brushed back from his round, cheerful face as if his styling routine included putting his face in front of a high power fan. Paired with gorgeous blue eyes like two pools of the world’s most refreshing water, and it wasn’t a surprise that the charming trasnfer student had become Gekkoukan’s most popular student in the few weeks he’d been there. Which, was a feat, with how beloved Akihiko was. Yet, even with the fighter’s adorable, oblivious charms, when Ryoji had come to school, he’d taken the hearts of the student body like an expert phantom thief.

Or, well, at least, 99% of the student body adored the man. Minato Arisato was no stranger to charming playboys and their faux innocent, lovey-dovey antics, so Ryoji’s sugary magnetism was useless against the deadpan emo. No matter how soft those lovely sapphire eyes got when the brunette looked at him.

Or...that’s what Minato told himself each day when he heard one of his classmates whisper about some new facet of sex appeal the boy had. Irritation was what he claimed as the cause for how much he hated when he saw Ryoji out on a date with a classmate. Jealousy? No. Minato Arisato hated other people, they grated on his nerves without fail, so there was no way in hell he had any warm feelings that would stem something like jealousy. Right?

But, if that’s so, why does the mention of Ryoji going out on dates make you so aggressive? Orpheus asked, the epitome of that little voice in the back of your head that you fought to ignore. Although, does a crush really explain your feelings? What about how possessive you are of him? “Aren’t you cold, Funeral lily?” The words all but ripped the blue-haired teen away from his persona’s musings and brought him back to reality. The reality where Ryoji Mochizuki waited beside him for the train. Close enough for the shaggy-haired teen to smell how the various scents of food that had permeated the white dress shirt and black vest of his work uniform mingled with Ryoji’s peppermint-and-oleander-scented cologne. Which, meant he was too damned close. “I’m fine.” Minato said flatly before he stepped away to put a bit of distance between them. Some distance between himself and the irrational urge to brand the brunette’s cute ass. Yet, Ryoji didn’t seem to get that memo, because in the time it took the persona user to flick through a few of his songs, he became aware of the pretty boy’s body heat once again breath-tak- annoyinglyclose. “Personal space, Mochizuki.” “Are you sure? I didn’t see you grab a jacket after work tonight, and, I mean, it’s winter.” Ryoji pointed out. As if the midnight-haired teen hadn’t even spoken, and had somehow also missed the delicate flakes that drifted down from the darkened sky outside. “Yes I’m sure, and I don’t see youwith a coat either, so get off of my ass about it.” He snapped, yet when he looked back to glare at the teen who had stumbled into the shaggy-haired emo’s part time job, and just so happened to choose to work there as well, Ryoji’s blue eyes met his evil look with nothing but a warm sense of concern. The fact that the most popular boy in school had the absolute gall to look at him like that made Minato’s stomach churn. Though, that may have been caused by the swarm of butterflies he ignoring whenever he saw that addictive, sweet look.

Regardless of whatever confused feelings he harbored though, Ryoji still looked at him with undeniable softness in his gaze. A softness that Minato recognized from their first encounter outside of the very train station that they now stood in. A softness that drew Minato in like a warm hug in the chilled air of the winter night and blurred the prickly, hostile thoughts into simple white noise on that near-empty, slightly smelly boarding platform.

In fact, Minato had plenty of time while they waited for their train to notice just how soft Ryoji himself was. From that round face and dark, fluffy hair that looked feather-soft even before the blue-haired teen reached up to gently touch a stray strand that dared to fall into Ryoji’s sapphire eyes, to the warm body that he’d heard from the many girls was great to hold. And, that spark of jealousy was the dose of ice water that pulled Minato out of the trance he’d fallen into. So, the proximity of Ryoji’s face to his crashed down like a precariously balanced box at a sharp gust of wind and hit Minato right in the impulses. "Ah! Mina! What the hell?!” Ryoji yelped, his hand on his cheek as he stared at the midnight-haired emo who’d let those jealous, vicious urges slip just a bit. “I-I-I…” Sadly, when he tried to speak, shame choked the persona user worse than the stale, dank air of the dark hour, but he pushed the words out regardless. “I-I told you, personal space, god damn it! Listen!” “Motherfucker, you’rethe one who leaned in! I just met you in the middle!” Ryoji pointed out, but what was Minato to do? Confess to the jealousy he harbored towards all of the girls he heard talk about the brunette?

No. If he tried to explain the intricacies of his ‘jealousy’, he’d be forced to explain why the mere memory of his classmates harmlessly gossiping about Ryoji had driven him to sucker punch the man. He’d have to confront whatever those disgusting, squishy feelings were that Ryoji’s presence always seemed to dig up. And, the violent possessiveness that followed.

So, instead of doing any of that, Minato snarled, “I did not! Get your mind out of whatever pipedreams you have rattling around in that shallow ass head of yours.” And, while the look of hurt in Ryoji’s eyes stung, it stung far less than the humiliation of explaining himself. Especially since the train came along to rescue him from marinating in the kicked-puppy aura the captivating man gave off.

So, he simply ended the conversation with a huff, and put his music back on to drown out any other chance to converse.

Minato hated people. That included Ryoji Mochizuki as well.

#Persona 3 #Persona 3 Reload #Ryomina #Ryoji Mochizuki x male!Persona 3 protagonist #ask #MinaRyo #Persona #Ryoji Mochizuki #scenario #Male!Persona 3 protagonist #Makoto Yuki #Yandere!male!Persona 3 protagonist #implied yandere #Minato Arisato #yandere

[ggomos-maribat]

Fight for the Throne: Battle

Part 5.4 of Heirs Apparent | AO3

Masterlist

CW: violence, blood, childhood trauma

Danny's current fear was that his sudden absence was going to rattle the Ghost Zone and the Observants would appear out of nowhere to escort him back to work. He'd soon rather reveal his ghostly side to the three Parisians than have the eyeballs show up in the base. CW should be keeping them from doing that at least, he thought, if he knows what's going to happen.

He looks back at the group, rubbing his middle where he was previously shot. "Please don't fault Marinette for lying to you," he finally said to them. "And don't think that everything you know her as is a lie. She's a good person—just raised around the wrong people. I get that you have doubts but I'm sure she'll come clean after all of this."

He focused on the blonde boy, Adrien, in particular. If this incident is going to lead to their break-up, ancients, his sister was going to burn the League down.

The three didn't say a word, maybe still in the middle of processing everything they had heard so far. Danny stretched his arms and legs. "Okaaay, since we're all familiar with each other now, I think Adrien's due for a shovel talk."

"Seriously?" Chloe sputtered. "Aren't you like, even bothered about being trapped in here?"

Danny raised an eyebrow. As if you weren't just complaining about your hair earlier. He mustered his most innocent smile, folding his arms at the back of his head. "Well, no, 'cause it's useless to have negative vibes around here and we have nothing better to do anyway than talk."

The short girl, Alix, let out a light chuckle.

"So . . ." Danny pinned his gaze on Adrien again and saw him visibly gulp. "That shovel talk?"

"Right, uhh." Adrien smiled nervously. "I—I love Mari . . ."

"Mmm hmm."

"And I'd like to hear her side and . . . and honestly I just want to see her safe right now." The boy raked a hand through his hair. "I'd never do anything to hurt her and I've committed myself to protecting her during err, the attacks."

Danny nodded his head, humming. "I know amira wouldn't settle for anything less anyway."

"What does that mean? 'Amira'?" Alix asked. "Sounds like Arabic."

"It is Arabic. Means 'princess'," Danny answered, "She was the princess of the League."

Adrien's lips parted in recognition, forming an 'o'. Danny briefly recalled Marinette mentioning how one of his nicknames for her was 'princess'.

"I think you're pretty cool, Adrien. When it comes to the shovel talk, it's our brother you want to watch out for actually." A mischievous glint sparkled in Danny's eye. He knew just then that his eyes had momentarily turned toxic green. "He'll bring his katanas when he talks to you."

"Damian Wayne?"

"Yup, that one."

Static fizzled in the air, making Danny stiffen up. A cold gasp was threatening to escape his lips but it wasn't quite there. A portal's about to open up. He moved towards the corner of the cell where the view of any watchers would be blocked. He summoned a tiny portal to intercept the incoming one and used his other voice in a low tone.

"S̴̥̤̪̙̰̦͌̎̌̆͂̃̈́ͅẗ̸̢̫̥̒a̷̦̠̲̓̒̽̉̇̊̕͝ỳ̶̩͈̰̗͍͑͐̌̆̓͜ ̴͎͙̣͊ả̴̛͓͚͈̈́̏̽̂w̶̳̹̤̿̔̈́̔͐̏̃͘ͅǎ̴̻̪̐͊͆̓̇ȳ̸̰͔͓́͜͜ͅ ̶̢̙̊f̸̡͋̎̇͘r̸̡͔̖̱̗̤͒͆ơ̵̙͉̘̰̙̼̈́͂͛͋̌̎ͅṃ̴̧̛̻̳͉͑̈́̊͝ ̴̛̞̼͍̮͋̋͌̑m̴̛̺̫̜̲͍̦̣͐ỷ̸̢̱̻̙̯̫ ̸̬̙̬͊̈́̎̿͠l̴̘̳̭̈́̌̍͐̿̀́ơ̸̡̧̢͉̗͓̖͋̾̃̿c̷̙̻̖̣̥̄á̴̯͓̓̅͂͆ṫ̸̠͖̘̠̯̯̈í̶̡̀̂̊͌ȍ̵̻͚͆̎͛͝n̶̲̗̂̉͋̾," he threatened, "Ḏ̸̡̢̨̧̧̻̈͋͒̀̃͜͝͠ơ̴̝͚͈̩͚̤̪̍͆͑̂̕ ̷̞͙̳͙̗̤͍̔̔ͅn̶̲̥̘̻̹̒͜o̵̡̡͇̩̓̒̑͝͝t̷̯̝̜̬͙͉̍͊̃̂͋͌̚ ̷̱̪̙̣͎̈͂̍͂́͜c̵̩̍o̷̜̳͚̘̭͗̋m̴͔̓͛̐͂͊͠͝e̸͔͙̟̞̼̟̍̊̈́̀̋͌̏͘ ̵̯͍̞͎̜́͜u̸̖͖͍̳͇͛́̄͜n̴̛̙͚̺̈́́͛͆̾t̶̘̗̞̼͛ì̵̧̨̥͎̏͌́͘ḻ̴̃̍̋̅ ̷̨̢̫̓́ͅĮ̷̯̟͉͓̦̳̎ ̷̡̠͈͕̬̺̞̑̃̽͒͝ą̷̽̄̿s̷̛̰̺̭̫͈̀͆̅̔ͅk̸̨̩͓̜̯̲̬̒̿͝ ̶̧̢͇̞̖̀̏̏̇̚͜f̷͖͉͉̌͐̅͌͆̏o̴̡̞̼͓͈̳͗́̈̂͝͝r̶̞̦̲̋̿͆ ̷̻͖͗̌̈̕̚͝y̵̼͌̽̍o̴̗̒̍̏́͆̕͠ű̴̫̯͍͔͕̀͐̈̎̕͘."

He closed the portal instantly, mumbling, "Creepy fucking eyeballs."

And when he looked back, the Parisians were staring at him in different versions of horror. "Okay, come on, there's probably an akuma that's weirder than that." He crossed his arms pouting. "And . . . no, as much as I would like to, I'm not telling my whole life-death story as long as we're in here. You guys can just pretend you didn't witness that."

---

The sun dimmed and the sky soon faded into black as the day passed. They were brought just enough food to ration, but other than that, the League had kept them inside their cells. Soon, against her wishes, Marinette began to doze off.

"You shouldn't have done that."

That was what Damian had told her right after her first kill. Her hand shook around the knife as she walked behind her brothers.

'You shouldn't have done that'? She had worked with her blood and sweat in training and that was all he could say to her? She grit her teeth, breathing heavily.

Looking at her brothers' backs enraged her more. She was now one of them, but they didn't want her. Screaming, she lunged for Damian, tackling him to the ground and raining blows that he attempted to dodge. "What was I supposed to do?!" She yelled, hot tears at the corner of her eyes. "What was I supposed to do?!"

Damian was stunned into speechlessness as her tears dropped onto his own cheeks. Danyal only stood nearby, head held down. They probably thought they failed to save her from the worst kind of life. But their responses were hell for Marinette.

The scene melted into something that else—Marinette was Ladybug, all grown now, and was facing the ruins of Paris. Instead of burning chaos like she always pictured, the devastated city was a shell of itself, desolate like the places she'd gone to for a mission. She was the last soldier standing, and the akumas that had caused all of it . . .

A tightness erupted in her chest. Sobs wracked her whole body, followed by an unnerving numbness beneath her skin. From far away, she could hear a voice but couldn't make out what it was saying.

She curled in on herself, screaming, letting out what the city's terrorist had denied her for years. Somehow, she wasn't enough, she wasn't the heroine of Paris like she was supposed to be, she was the one who failed to save her people.

"Marinette!"

She jumped back into half-consciousness and found herself still shaking. Jason came into view, who was holding her while she fell apart. But instead of pushing him away, she clutched his shirt more tightly and let herself cry out loud and drain her tears.

She didn't care how pathetic she seemed, how pitiful it was despite putting up an act the previous day. Tim and Dick's expressions were unreadable: maybe it was grief, or guilt, or confusion, or sympathy, or panic. Marinette figured that they saw the ugly trauma crawl out of her, a kind of mirror to their own experiences.

Though their reactions told her that hers was much, much worse.

"Are you okay?" Jason asked in a hushed tone, pulling away the sweaty strands of hair from her face.

Marinette nodded mutely and pulled away. Jason returned to his brothers. No one uttered a word but they were still staring at her.

She pulled her lips into a fine line. "What, never seen a traumatized kid before?"

The boys could only radiate with concern—it seemed like they wouldn't say anything.

Marinette wrapped her arms around her knees. "Do me a favor: when you finally get around to researching about me, make sure you have the right information." She blinked and gazed emptily at the wall. "Then maybe you'll understand."

---

Damian noted the worry in Jazz's eyes when he pushed his portion of food towards her. "You should eat," he told her, "You don't know when the next is going to be."

"What about you?"

"I've suffered worse."

Her face twisted in a way that looked like she was imagining what that 'worse' looked like. But despite her efforts, he refused to take his food back and only opted for the cup of water. He knew she was starving as well, but didn't want to show it too much.

"So, we're here because this 'League of Assassins' wants one of you to take over, right?" Jazz pushed back her hair as she ate.

"Yes, I believe so."

She frowned. "Does it really have to be one of you? Why not choose someone else?"

Damian clicked his tongue. "I do wonder that myself. The problem is that they only consider us worthy because we've been trained by Ra's. I think they're missing something here if they didn't stop to consider that we actually don't share his ideals."

"Also . . . if you're here with me, who do you think Danny's with?"

"If the situation is a switch-around, then Danyal must be with our sister's Parisian friends, and Marinette is with my brothers." Now that he considered it, Marinette with Dick, Jason, and Tim was a recipe for disaster. Secrets were going to be exposed left and right: his brothers would be prying into Marinette's issues and it was only a matter of time before Danny's presence as a king would be needed.

The morning passed more quickly than the previous day. Assassins came to their cell for the second time, not to hand them food but to escort them out. He and Jazz were being taken to opposite directions, and he couldn't bring himself to strike just yet because they had her.

So he moved along the path, pulled along by two assassins, and plunged into the darkness.

---

What Damian noticed while going through the halls was how much of a maze the place was. It didn't help that he hadn't stepped foot in the base either—it would be tricky to navigate the escape.

He was led down a staircase and into another room where the escorts left him. The room was a tad bit larger than the cell, filled with weapons of every kind including his own. At the opposite side there's an opening barred by metal bars that could be unlocked by a lever. Peeking out, Damian saw that it led to the arena he spotted from the window of the cell.

He walked towards the wooden table that held his katanas. So this is it. The fight.

He picked up the twin weapons and stuffed other smaller ones in his possession: knives, a small handgun, shurikens. After packing up, he looked towards the gate.

See you soon, akhi. Amira.

---

The day was officially coming to be one of the worst days Jason Todd ever had. When they were finally getting out of the cell, they were taken into a series of winding passages and into what looked like a viewing deck for the arena. Other assassins had taken Marinette away—she left them with a stern warning not to do anything rash.

We have our hands tied. Great.

The other hostages were in viewing decks, too, close enough for Jason to make out their faces but too far to communicate with them. They were located higher up so it was difficult to drop down to the bottom without a grapple. In a higher viewing deck, there was a group of cloaked figures, maybe the elders who will be spectating the battle.

He stood near the ledge, looking over the dusty fighting arena. A part of him worried about Marinette especially after that breakdown she had. Something told him her triggers originated not only from her childhood.

The metal gates opened not long after. The three League heirs slipped out, each carrying different weapons. Damian had his usual katanas, and their other brother (Danyal, if he remembered the name Marinette mentioned) had a crossbow and a sword. Meanwhile Marinette . . .

"Is that a rifle?" Tim rubbed his eyes in disbelief. True enough, Marinette had a gun hoisted over her shoulder.

"Won't that, I don't know, be bad for mobility?" Added Dick.

He wasn't wrong. It was a large empty arena with no obstacles or structures to climb over. If there was a fight going on, they'd have to constantly move around often to attack and dodge. Jason only hoped Marinette knew what she was doing.

The triplets moved to the center to talk but their conversation couldn't be heard from their spot. The gates opened again, this time welcoming hordes of assassins. The three wasted no time positioning themselves back-to-back in defensive stances.

"It's a test," Jason mumbled.

"Like if their assassins skills are rusty?" Tim asked. Jason only shrugged in response.

The fight began with the sound of a horn.

Jason focused on Marinette first, curious about her next moves. She had strapped the rifle to her back and opted for a closer range combat, armed with blades. Right off the bat, he could see that her fighting style was deadly. Sharp. Jason could almost liken it to Cass' movements. But if Cass' fighting was like an art form, a dance with her opponents, Marinette's was extremely flawless—she never made a wrong move, no unnecessary actions. By League standards, she was a perfect soldier.

Next, his gaze wandered off to the other boy, Danyal, who looked like a near copy of Damian. His fighting was more fluid, as swiftly moved around their attackers to deliver his own blows. When Damian was in combat, he was more aggressive, like a blazing fire. Danyal on the other hand was a shadow, a trick of the eye.

What Jason found strange was the uncanny calmness that washed over him whenever he watched Danyal.

The battle was in the triplets' favor so far. Jason shuddered at how well the three worked together, aside from their individual prowess. Where one sibling had an opening, the other covered and when one attacked, another supported from behind. They were like clockwork turning in sync, as if they had each other's moves memorized and predicted.

No wonder they were separated, Jason thought.

Another thing he noticed was that they never seemed to have the intent to kill. Bodies were being knocked out left and right but they were only immobilized with injury or unconscious at most. Soon, all their opponents were down, leaving the three catching their breaths and wiping blood off their skin.

The horn sounded again, but this time no more assassins were released into the arena. The triplets looked towards the upper deck, where the League members were staying.

"Are they . . . supposed to fight each other now?" said Tim.

Jason inhaled sharply. The League would keep them there forever until only one heir remained. Maybe they would kill the hostages one by one as a threat. He clenched his jaw. "We have to get out of here."

Dick headed straight for the door behind them, but it was locked and bolted shut. Tim was looking around for another way to escape.

But Jason watched.

Damian, Danyal, and Marinette had faced each other, each drawing their weapons.

Then they attacked. 

---

Zalgo Text: "Stay away from my location." "Do not come until I ask for you."

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#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #bio dad bruce wayne #dc x miraculous #danny phantom au #dc x danny phantom x miraculous #heirs apparent #tw blood #tw violence #childhood trauma #ptsd

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Bruce Wayne and his sugar baby? 😍

Bruce fiddled with his watch and waited.

You were, of course, fashionably late. You did like to make an entrance- and who was he to fault you. A little harmless vanity and no small amount of bravado never hurt anything.

And, making your way in the world like you did. Even though you were officially/unofficially retired now that Bruce was paying your bills- you still had to deal with people who liked to look down their nose at you. But you were beautiful and confident. Poised. And you knew exactly where your power lay.

So when you entered the dining room, in the dress he'd paid for. Hair done. Make up done. And jewelry on that would probably set you up for a good long while if you ever sold it, he smiled. Standing to pull out your chair as the owner himself lead you to the table. He barely heard what the man was saying- the effusive compliments about your beauty, promises that if he needed anything he need only ask. And when you smiled your thanks- a smile that Bruce had seen turn an appalling number of men into blithering idiots- he's not disappointed when the man flusters. Surrendering you to Bruce with a look of envy.

"All this for me?" He rumbled, eyes crinkling at the corners, "I'm flattered."

"You know I hate to disappoint," you hum, accepting a kiss hello before allowing him to seat you.

"Oh I do," he said, resuming his own seat. And for a moment, as you look out the window. At the traffic and the sparkle of the lights twinkling like the diamonds on your neck- your cynicism faded, just slightly. He can see you as he first met you. A cute, fun party girl. A model who worked nights doing bottle service- worlds away from home. With puppy fat on your cheeks still. But the most infectious little giggle when champagne bubbles tickle your nose.

You may not giggle now, but when you take a sip from your glass, your little smile is just as infectious and his own lips twitch. At least until he hears the tell tale whispers. "I don't know how she can sleep at night-"

"Naked on silk sheets, usually," you purr, pitching your voice for his hearing.

And Bruce grins, taking your hand and kissing it. "How do you feel about Paris, next week?"

"I can rearrange my schedule, I suppose," you sigh, giving him his favorite smile. Slow and teasing. "Is it business or pleasure?"

"A bit of both," he said, "You know how I hate eating dinner alone."

"I do," you answer. "I'll have Chaitra pack for your itinerary."

"What happened to Kate?" he asked, interested. It had been a while since he'd been to your penthouse. He hadn't even realized Kate had left- unusual, given that your maids were treated well.

"Greener pastures," you answer, with a put-upon sigh, "It's my own fault really. But they just made such a good couple-"

"I didn't realize you were expanding your interests to matchmaking," he chuckled.

"I dabble," you chirp, looking pleased with yourself. "At least she helped me find Chaitra, bless her. You know I'm useless at anything domestic."

"I remember," he said wryly, hiding a smile. "I never knew it was possible to make that big a fire boiling spaghetti."

"I made up for it though."

"You did," he chuckled, "But I'm sure the fire department gets far fewer calls now and will forever be sending your staff Christmas cards-"

"We send them bagels."

And his belly laugh makes everyone in the vicinity turn to look.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #sugarbaby!reader #anon ask #ask answered #minors dni