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suzukiblu · 4 months

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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Lux; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! I, uh, was only supposed to write nine sentences for this, buuuuut I didn't only write nine sentences for this. 😅 LOOK, I HIT A GROOVE, I'M NOT SORRY. Enjoy your read-more, y'all.

“Do you want some ideas for names?” Billy offers. Most kids don’t get to “legally” name themselves quite this way, so he feels like helping Superboy pick a good name is important. He wants him to have one he really likes. “I know a lot of them. Or we could look some up online? Batman got us a desktop and got you a laptop and a tablet, in case you need one for anything. Oh, and there’s phones, so we can keep in contact! I should grab you yours, actually, it’s . . . somewhere in the kitchen, I think.”

“‘Ideas’?” Superboy repeats, looking a little uncomfortable. “Like . . . what?”

“I just mean suggestions,” Billy promises, immediately distracted from the phone by Superboy’s apparent discomfort. The phone can wait. “You can pick any name you want, it’s up to you. I’m not gonna, like, veto you or anything.”

“. . . sure,” Superboy says. He still looks uncomfortable and Billy still can’t be sure he really means it, but . . . well, he just has to do his best, he guesses.

“You don’t have to decide right away, you can think it over for a bit,” he says. “But we at least need something to put on the paperwork. You can always change it later if you decide you don’t like it.”

“Whatever,” Superboy says, his mouth thinning. Billy thinks Cadmus was sort of terrible for not giving him a name. Actually, no, Cadmus was really terrible for that.

“How about I just list some, and if you like any of them, you can just say?” he suggests.

“Whatever,” Superboy repeats, looking away. Well . . . it’s not a “no”, at least, so Billy figures they can try, and if Superboy gets annoyed, they’ll just stop and try again later.

“Okay,” he says. “Um . . . let’s see, what are some good ones . . . David, Asher, Zachary, Parker, Otto, Levi . . . um . . .”

Superboy’s jaw tightens. Billy stops listing names and bites his tongue. Okay. The name thing is a sore spot, maybe. Or maybe Superboy just doesn’t like any of his suggestions and thinks he’s lame, he guesses. That might also be, like . . . a thing.

“I’ll try to think of some more later,” Billy says, repressing a guilty wince and grasping desperately for a new topic. “Do you, uh . . . have any questions? Or anything like that?”

Probably he should’ve asked that sooner, come to think.

"How often are you gonna be here?" Superboy asks, still looking away. Billy can’t really read what he can see of his face very well, but hopefully once they know each other better he'll get better at that kind of thing. Like, he’ll have to, right?

"Oh, like–pretty much whenever I'm not doing hero stuff or on any League missions," he says. "I'll make sure and tell you if I'm ever gonna be gone overnight or anything like that, okay?"

Superboy . . . blinks. Looks back at him.

"You're going to live here?" he asks in confusion. Billy blinks too, tilting his head.

"Yeah," he says. "I mean, it wouldn't be very nice of me to just ditch you here all by yourself, would it?"

"I can take care of myself," Superboy says, his expression shuttering. Billy frowns.

"Well, sure, but that doesn't mean anybody's gonna make you," he says. Just because Superboy’s physically old enough to take care of himself doesn’t mean he’s not technically still a baby. He deserves to get taken care of and have somebody help him figure out, like . . . everything, pretty much. Civilian life and superhero stuff both.

That’s why Billy’s doing this, so . . . yeah.

“Why?” Superboy says.

“Because that’d be really mean,” Billy says. “And we’re the good guys, so we have to be the good guys.”

Superboy’s jaw tightens again, and then he folds his arms and looks away again too. He looks upset. Billy wishes he knew how to fix it. Like–even just a little bit. He knows sometimes that stuff just doesn’t “fix”, but . . . still. He’s trying to be a good dad here, so he feels like he should fix things like Superboy being upset.

Well–he guesses just letting him work through being upset is okay too, if it comes to it. For when things aren’t that easy to get distracted from. Billy would also have a lot to be upset about if he’d been made in a lab and told he was supposed to be somebody he’s not and gotten mind-controlled the first time he’d ever woken up for real. Like, that’s a really shit first day.

Superboy must feel really weird, too. Cadmus probably didn’t really teach him how to be a kid or a teenager, since they were trying to make an adult Superman, so it’s no wonder he thinks they’re gonna make him take care of himself. Billy’s gonna have to help him learn how being a kid works, he’s pretty sure.

Well, he can do that. And, well, Superboy’s friends can cover the “teenager” stuff, he guesses. Like, probably.

. . . maybe he could find a couple parenting books or something. A parenting book might be a good idea.

"I just don't get it," Superboy says after a long moment staring at the wall, tensing his folded arms. "What about when you have to get back to your real life? Like your . . . your job and your house and your . . . family. This is keeping you away from all that."

"Oh," Billy realizes, blinking at him in surprise. He guesses Superboy probably would expect him to have that kinda stuff, huh. "No, I don't really . . . have any of those, technically? I mean, I am human, I wasn't lying or anything, I just don't have a job or another house or anything like that. Actually the Justice League is paying for all of this, 'cause we were all talking about the best place for you to live and Superman asked if maybe I could take care of you, and I had to tell him I couldn't 'cause I didn't actually have anything to take care of you with, but Batman said the League could set up a stipend to pay for stuff and help me get a place and all that if I wanted to do it, sooooo . . ."

". . . Superman asked you to take care of me?" Superboy asks hesitantly, shifting in his bean bag and finally glancing back to him again.

"Yeah," Billy confirms with a nod, a little relieved that Superboy’s looking at him again. Well–close to him, anyway. He’s not quite making eye contact, but that’s fine. "Well, him and Batman. Because my powers are kinda close to yours so I can help you train and stuff, but also Kryptonians are vulnerable to magic so if you've got any mind control triggers in your head that we missed I should be able to stop you without having to hurt you. Like I could restrain you until we could help you or until you could snap out of it on your own, I mean."

"Oh," Superboy says, blinking slowly. "I just figured somebody had some kryptonite somewhere in case something like that happened."

"No," Billy says, frowning at the thought. Geez, what kind of an awful dad would he be if he did that? He's seen what kryptonite does to Superman and it totally sucks. "Kryptonite hurts. I'm not gonna let anybody use kryptonite on you. Er–well, probably eventually a bad guy will when you're on a mission, that's kind of how those go, but we're definitely not gonna keep any here.”

"Why not?" Superboy asks, frowning back at him. "It's more efficient than actually fighting me. And I might injure you if I'm like that."

"Yeah," Billy says. "But also somebody bad could use it against you if they ever broke in and found it. And this is, um–well. This is your home now, so I don't think there should be things that could hurt you in it anyway."

Superboy stares blankly at him again. Billy tries not to fidget.

"There were lots of things that could hurt me in Cadmus," Superboy says, his face staying very, very blank in a way that Billy immediately hates.

"Well, this isn't Cadmus," Billy says firmly, trying to look as sincere and trustworthy and dad-ly as he knows how to. He had a really, really great dad. He can pay that forward. Superboy deserves a great dad too. "I'm taking care of you now, and I don't want kryptonite or anything like it around you. Ever."

Superboy stares at him. His expression is really complicated-looking and Billy doesn't understand it, so he just keeps trying to look as dad-ly as possible. Hopefully that'll help, or at least won't hurt.

". . . what about your family, though?" Superboy asks after a long moment, flicking his eyes away uncomfortably. Billy really hopes he's doing this right. "Or do you, uh, not have one of those either?"

"Um," Billy says. "Well, I have the worst uncle in the world who I really hope is rotting in prison somewhere by now, but otherwise it's just you."

"What?" Superboy frowns again, looking confused. "What's just me?"

"Uh . . . my family?" Billy replies, a little embarrassed. He hasn't actually had any family that he could still want to be around in . . . well, a really long time now, so it feels sort of weird to say it, but it is true. Dubiously-legally true, given all the fake paperwork Batman’s been putting together, but still true.

Superboy gives him the blank stare yet again. Billy feels like a moron, but–well, he's not gonna take it back. Even if Superboy thinks he's presuming too much too quick or something, which admittedly he kinda is, Billy also can't imagine how awful it'd be hearing someone call you their family and then say they weren't really or hadn't actually meant it or just . . . whatever.

Superboy might not even care if he did, but . . .

Well. Billy would care. So he's not gonna.

Ever.

#rinfic #lux #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

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arabellasleopardcoat · 2 months

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Pyrite - Chapter 3: Tears have drowned you

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Chapter summary: Aemma's and Daemon's coins finally land. Reader is not pleased.

Chapter warnings: Anxiety.Violence. Nudity. Sexual remarks. Kidnapping/ witness protection (Daemon's version) Reader gets slapped a few times, discussions of abortion and death.

A/N: They finally met! I am so sorry if this chapter is off, I am going through a breakup.

“This is an interesting contraption.” The Prince says, examining the dry brush that you use on the Queen before her bath. It makes her skin smoother. You gape at him, setting down the bucket of water that you were carrying. You were not expecting him to seek you out.

Panic rises at your throat and threatens choking you. You were not expecting him to come after you. Not like this.

It had all seemed so clear when you had overheard it. You couldn't let an innocent baby die, so you had to send the note. But after you had done so, fear started to sink in.

Otto Hightower was not a man to be trifled with. He was smart and ruthless, alight with the sort of fire that prompted me to do anything necessary to be someone in life. It was a yearning not so dissimilar to your own. Maybe Ser Otto was not of common birth, but he was a second son. And all second sons spent their lives waiting, just like the commoner, to be noticed.

He would do anything to finally get the recognition and standing he felt he deserved, including disposing of unexpected obstacles. After all, if he was willing to kill a babe still in the womb, why not a serving girl?

Your nights were spent lying on your cot, with the blanket pulled up high enough to hide your face and hair. You felt safer that way. The blanket wrapped tight around your body allowed you to feel any shifts on the bed, preventing anyone from sitting or leaning on your bed as you slept without you being alerted of it. Hiding under it had a less practical motive. Like a child, you just felt better that way.

Never before had you thought so much about your own death. When you were younger, and first became aware of death, you had realized it meant that you would die one day too. It was a scary thought, but it wasn't one that would make you freeze in terror as it did now.

Would it hurt? Would he poison your food? Send a sellsword after you? You had been raised under the Faith of the Seven, but your belief in them was weak. You doubted the existence of the Seven Heavens or Seven Hells. Would it be like falling asleep? Perhaps it would hurt. And then nothing would come ever again. You would just cease to exist, to be.

You had worried so much about Otto Hightower that you had not thought of the other, more dangerous threat to your wellbeing. Prince Viserys' attack dog. Daemon Targaryen.

“I must say, I had not expected such a reaction.” Prince Daemon sets down the brush, smirking. “Have you never given a man a bath before?”

You wished you were wittier. That your tongue was as sharp and fast as his. But with fear clouding your senses, you could do little more than curtsy clumsily.

He knows. He knows. He knows. The words kept repeating on your mind, a constant litany of panic and urgency. Your heart was beating wildly inside his cage, so hard you felt it might break a few bones and jump out of your chest.

No one would protect you. Not even your mother, placed in an impossible position by her foolish daughter. Between her beloved Queen and the future King of Westeros, something would have to give. Because thanks to you, Prince Viserys' victory seemed more certain. Why else bring his brother, if not to deal with the threat?

They were supposed to be in the city to visit their father, the Lord Hand. You did not believe a word of that excuse. Never before had they visited Prince Baelor. The Lord Hand went to them, not the other way around.

Would anyone care if you were to disappear? You were so invisible, no one would miss you. You hadn't made many friends among the other servings girls. The Queen you served didn't notice you, nor did any of the other nobles. You only had your family.

“There must be a confusion.” You said, cautiously. You decided to keep your eyes fixed on the Prince's face. It was an unusual choice, you weren't supposed to gaze at nobles so directly. But you were not so foolish as to be in the same room as a predator and leave him unchecked. “I serve Queen Alyssane, my Prince. Only her. I am sure other…"

“I know.” He cut you off, before you could offer to find him another serving girl to help with his bath. You were desperate to get away from him, and it probably showed. "I complimented my grandmother's skin. She said the secret was your mother's baths."

That gave you pause. It made the fear recede a little. It was an odd question for a man, but Targaryens were known for their queer customs. Especially this one. It was perfectly plausible.

If they were trying to get information out of you, it would have been easier for Princess Aemma to call for you. After all, she could become your future lady, and probably was more interested in baths than Daemon Targaryen.

So. They didn't know, and Prince Daemon had a genuine interest in baths or he did know something, but not everything. If you played your cards right, you could still walk away unscathed.

“Then by all means, I shall fetch my mother!” You said, trying to gauge his reaction to your obvious attempt to get away.

The Prince's features shifted into a mask of pure rage before smoothing down into a strained smile. The change was so quick that if you had not been paying such close attention to his eyes, you would have missed the murderous glint in them, the way his smile showed way more teeth than necessary, how his fists clenched by his sides.

He knew. The Seven save you, Prince Daemon knew.

“I asked about that. She delegated the task to you.” He said, flatly. “Now hurry and help me undress.”

You stepped closer to him. Every instinct in your body was screaming at you not to. Your stomach dropped, the hairs of your arms stood up, you felt like you were about to throw up. But what other choice did you have?

The pact had not been meant for you to witness. You knew that. Foolishly, you had worried about Otto Hightower and Corlys Velaryon. You had thought about how they would find you, and how they would kill you.

The conspirators had been outside the Red Keep, so if they suspected a leak, they might go after the tavern's cashier or owner first. It was doubtful any of them recalled the other people in the shop with them that day. That was not how Prince Daemon must have found you. If it proved hard for the men present, for him it would have been impossible.

How could a man be aware of a conversation that had happened a month before, thousands of miles away? No. He hadn't found out that way, or he wouldn't need you. They would already know who was threatening them.

With shaky hands, you unbuttoned and took off his jerkin. Prince Daemon was slightly tanned, as a result of all the time he must spend outdoors. You had heard that since claiming his dragon, not a day passed without him riding the blood wyrm. You also knew, by the sword on his belt and the muscles in his back, that he must train quite a bit.

Your eyes must linger a second more than it is proper because Prince Daemon laughs.

“Never seen a naked man before?”

“No, my Prince.” You swallow, mouth a bit dry. You are unsure if it is because you are getting an eyeful of a handsome man, or because of how worried you are.

You shouldn't have sent that note. Oh, the note. That was what would truly doom you. Deciding to send it to Dragonstone had been a gamble. You thought sending it directly to where Princess Aemma was would be quicker than trying to convince the Lord Hand.

Time was of the essence, after all. Nobles often announced their pregnancies around the three or four moon mark, considering it was more unlikely for the babe to die after that date. If the Princess knew of her pregnancy, it meant she had not bled for over a moon. For the conspirators to find out, more time had to have passed. Mellos would have to act quickly to fit into the timeframe.

“Don't worry.” Prince Daemon stepped away from you, a salacious grin on his face. “I will make your first time good for you, too.”

And looking you directly in the eyes, he yanked his breeches down.

“What are you?” You asked, trying to save face. You pointedly did not look down. “One and ten?”

Daemon tutted.

“Mouthy little thing, aren't you?”

You paled. In truth, you had not really thought that through. You shouldn't have mouthed back to a Prince, regardless of what he was doing to you. Much less, if he knew what you had done.

You had not been so foolish as to sign the note, but it still had your handwriting. It could easily betray your identity, especially considering that the fact that the Princess was at Dragonstone was not common knowledge to every commoner.

Could they tell that? That you were a commoner, just for the way you wrote? It had worried you at the time, but you had not expected them to narrow it down enough to actually come after you.

“I apologize, my Prince.” You lowered your eyes, before coming right to face with his… You quickly looked up.

“I don't mind it. I like my girls with a bit of a bite.” He leered. “Much nicer to split them open on your cock when they are likely to yowl and hiss like cats in heat.”

Your cheeks burned. You fought the urge to fled the room.

“I am eight and ten, to answer your question.” Prince Daemon kept going, as if nothing had happened. “What of you?”

You mumbled your age, and kneeled, holding the brush.

“Good, aren't you eager?” He laughed. You ignored him and started to brush from his feet towards his chest. The roughness of the brush startled him, and you felt a sense of dark vindication. “Oh… That's…"

You didn't let him finish, starting to brush his calves from behind, roughly. So what if you were taking your frustrations on him? Near a moon had passed without news, and with you living in anguish.

No one had talked about Princess Aemma, not to announce a loss or a pregnancy. You went on with your duties, trying to pretend nothing was wrong. Your previously gorgeous hair started falling out in clumps, and no tincture from your mother's journal could fix it. You could not stop thinking of Princess Aemma.

She was in your thoughts when you brushed the Queen's hair. Would she wear the crown next? You thought of her every time you saw a pregnant woman. Did the babe survive? Would she be your lady? If she were, would you be able to swallow this secret, keep it down?

“Is this necessary?” Prince Daemon asked, with a wince, when your brush approached his rear. It was very shapely, so you rubbed harder to vanish the thought from your mind.

“It is part of the Queen's bath.” You mumbled, thinking of how as soon as you scrubbed him raw, you were placing him in the bath and running away.

You did not get to do that. Prince Daemon, instead of eight and ten, acted five. He asked for you to wash his hair and rub his back, and overall made a nuisance out of himself. Not once did he ask about the note or your thoughts on succession. Instead, he made inane chatter and poorly hidden innuendos.

When you finished bathing him, you were convinced he was the most hellish man you had ever met. But you were also convinced that he was harmless.

How wrong you were.

The first thing you became aware of was a pounding headache. Your scalp hurt, and when you tried lifting your hands to check on it, you realized that they were tied to something.

Your limbs felt numb. Panic threatened to drown you once more, but you fought the initial waves and forced yourself to be calm. This was what you had been waiting for. If you wanted to live, you had to play it smart.

You lifted your eyelids, barely enough for you to see through a blurred sliver. The world around you was tinted red, and your eyelashes felt stuck together. You could see your legs, extended on the floor. You were sitting somewhere.

Softly, you tugged at your restraints. Your arms were tied behind you, but around something solid. A tree trunk? A bedpost?

You could not remember what had happened or how you had gotten here. Under you, there was something soft. A rug. So this was inside somewhere. You opened your eyes a bit more, hoping to catch a glimpse of the world around you, but cautious to do so in case you were being watched.

“You are awake.” A woman’s voice said. Her hand, soft and dainty, grabbed your chin in a bruising grip. “Good.”

Princess Aemma was crouching in front of you, a look of pure rage in her eyes.

“You will tell me who dared hurt my child. Or else.”

You blinked, stupidly. She was not who you had been expecting. Freshly wounded and surprised, you clearly took a second too long to answer because Princess Aemma slapped you. Hard.

Your vision darkened. You let out a ragged pant. This was… Not ideal. You had no idea of what was going on, or how she had known. Was it wise to speak?

“Who was it? Who ordered it?”

You whimpered. Could Princess Aemma protect you from Otto Hightower? His reach could be further than you thought. But even if she could, it would be picking a side. With the succession issue still unsolved, it felt unwise to do so.

Aemma could be the future Queen, yes. But so could Princess Rhaenys. And she would not want you then, if she knew you had passed information along to her rivals.

What would you do, then? Where would you find employment? Being a handmaiden to Targaryen women was all you knew how to do. Horrible images of ending up cleaning toilets or, the Seven forbid, in a pleasure house crossed your mind.

And that was if Princess Aemma allowed you to live. Perhaps she would think you too much of a burden or a part of the plot to hurt her, and just… Dispose of you. She had enough gold to hire an assassin or acquire poison, if she didn't do it with her bare hands. By the look in Aemma's face, she was very close to becoming a murderer.

You shook your head, near tears.

“Tell me.” Aemma insisted, her grip turning cruel. She raised her hand to strike again.

You shook your head again.

“Aemma?” Someone else spoke. It was a male’s voice, this time. You jerked upwards. Aemma's hand stilled. “I brought Daemon.”

Prince Viserys and Prince Daemon stepped inside the chamber that you were in. You felt like you were about to throw up. Exactly how many royals were keeping you captive?

Prince Daemon gave you a wave. He was sporting a smug smile that made you want to strangle him.

“We meet again.”

You glared. Aemma struck you again. The pain barely registered. You felt as if your head was too heavy for your body. It lolled to the side. A sudden wave of nausea prevented you from rightening it.

“Do not dare look at my good brother or husband, you whore.” She grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look up at her. “You either talk, or I will throw you in the cells. And when I find out who murdered my child, you will die alongside them.”

“My love, we shouldn't…” Prince Viserys swallowed, nervously.

“Shut up, Viserys!” Princess Aemma shrieked and the Prince cowered. This was the man King Jaehaerys wanted as his heir? Maybe Queen Alyssane and Otto Hightower were onto something. The thought registered as hilarious in your mind's scrambled condition, so you laughed.

Aemma turned towards you, outraged, but someone else's laughter stopped her dead in her tracks. Both of you turned, searching for the source of the sound.

Prince Daemon was laughing, eyes crinkling in the corners. He looked, much to your disgust, even more handsome.

“What?” He asked the Princess, between chuckles. “It was funny.”

“It was not.” Aemma scowled. She raised her hand again. “You little bitch! What did I tell you about looking at my…?”

“I think not.” Daemon intercepted her hand, holding her away. You sighed. You weren't stupid enough to think he was protecting you. No, he was just going to speed things along.

Daemon was one of the few people you had met that deserved their reputations. Dashing and a good warrior, yes. But also mercurial and quick to anger.

“Speak. Or I will make you speak myself. I assure you, you won't enjoy it." His hand brushed the blood away from your face, almost tenderly. You flinched. There was something about his touch that made your skin crawl. Gone was the young man from earlier, all playful smiles and banter. Instead, only a cold mask remained. His words lacked embellishments or thinly veiled threats. Daemon was not bluffing. “You won't die. Not for a long time. I will make sure that whoever poisoned Aemma knows it was you who spoke. And they can kill you.”

They. He would make sure they. The words were spoken like a promise, almost an oath. The Prince was completely serious.

Being left to the mercy of Otto Hightower was not something you wished for. And between the two of them, you knew who you feared more. You could always take a ship to Essos and find employment there if things went awry. But for that, you had to survive.

You whimpered. Aemma's fingers dug into your shoulders.

“Names.” She spoke, voice filled with contempt.

“Hightower! Ser Otto! And a Mellos! Corlys Velaryon was there, but he did not know.”

Prince Daemon and Prince Viserys exchanged a look. Prince Daemon crouched behind you, while Prince Viserys helped Princess Aemma stand.

“Good, little bird.” Daemon untied your wrists. You kept very still regardless. “Do you know what comes next?”

You shook your head. What else could they want from you?

“You will sing just as prettily during the trial.” He ordered, forcing you to your feet. Princess Aemma beamed at him. Prince Viserys looked thoughtful. “For all court to hear.”

Your stomach sank. It was a death sentence. A commoner, standing against Otto Hightower? You would not even make it to the stand. He was a powerful man, with powerful friends. But even if you did, you doubted King Jaehaerys would listen to you. You were one woman against the most important men of the realm.

And Queen Alyssane! Oh, Queen Alyssane would be so disappointed. She would no longer want your mother and you in her service, if she didn't decide first that you were part of the plot and ordered your death for harming her family. Or even worse, the Queen could be part of the plot herself and be offended by your meddling.

“No, please! Please, please. They will kill me.” You begged. “Please, Your Grace, let me go.”

Prince Daemon smirked. Princess Aemma’s face twisted into a vengeful expression. They both were pleased by the possibility of your death. You resigned yourself to it, silently starting to cry.

And then, the unexpected.

“She is right, Daemon. You can't ask her to stand against them, she will be dead before nightfall.” Prince Viserys spoke, timidly. The other, more violent two, halted.

You could have kissed him. You could have proclaimed him King yourself.

“Then what?” Prince Daemon frowned.

“We will have the trial. You keep her until then.” Viserys ordered. Princess Aemma huffed, and exited the room, slamming the door on her way out. She clearly disagreed, but not enough to do something about it.

You were left alone with Viserys and Daemon. You eyed them warily. No good deed went unpunished, did it? You had wanted to save a babe, and not only had you failed, but you had been thrown into a pit full of dangerous beasts, ready to swallow you whole. And by the look on Prince Daemon's eyes, the dragons were the worst of them.

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agaypanic · 10 months

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Omg I’m obsessed w ur writing! I’m back on my Francis brainrot lol

Could u do a Francis Wilkerson x reader smut where she’s the baby sitter who he’s secretly dating and they let her stay for dinner and then after they have sex?

Keep Your Voice Down (Francis Wilkerson X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

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Summary: You’re the Wilkerson’s go-to babysitter, able to handle any of the chaos the boys throw at you. But you’re Francis’ favorite for other reasons.

A/N: i <3 Francis brainrot. Warning for unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it. AU where Piama doesn’t exist. As usual, bc it’s smut i’d love some feedback, no matter how much of it i write it doesn’t get easier lol

CW: p in v intercourse, slight praise kink, begging, thigh riding, dirty talk, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), semi rough sex

***

You had been the Wilkerson’s favorite, and sometimes only, babysitter since you were 15. It had happened by complete accident. You had become friends with Francis before he got shipped off to military school. He had invited you over one day, and in a rush to get to work, Lois put you and Francis in charge of looking after his brothers. When she and Hal got home that night, you were serving dinner to the boys and somehow convinced them to take baths afterward and go to bed at a reasonable time.

The rest was history.

When Francis got sent away, you started babysitting more to help the Wilkersons out. They usually couldn’t pay you much, but you didn’t care because you got to hang out with boys that were basically gremlins, got free dinner, and when staying overnight, you’d always call Francis.

But the best days were when he was home for a weekend or holiday. It was hard because he was always away, but your friendship developed into a relationship when he came home for spring break one year. It was a little surprising that you’ve been together for so long since you rarely got to see each other, but you made it work. It was significantly easier when he got a job at the Grotto because a lot of his good pay went towards visiting his family, and secretly you. Secretly, because his family didn’t know you were dating.

“Mom, I like Y/n and all. But I don’t understand why we still need a babysitter.” Reese followed his mother around the house while she prepared for dinner.

“You do know I can hear you, right?” You laughed as you sat at the kitchen table he stood beside.

“No offense, but I’m sixteen. Having a babysitter is ruining my rep.”

“Reese, when you show enough responsibility to prove to me that you don’t need a babysitter, Y/n will stop being your babysitter.” Lois groaned, clearly done with this conversation.

“Mom, if we did that, Y/n would be my babysitter until I die.” You laughed at his seriousness.

“What’s so funny?” You leaped out of your seat from the voice. Francis stood on the step bordering the kitchen, grinning at the three of you.

“Francis!” You squealed, running around the table to launch yourself into his arms. Working at the ranch must have been a real workout for him because he caught you with ease, not stumbling an inch from your force. “What are you doing here?”

“Otto gave me the week off, said I deserved it for all the work I’ve been doing. So I decided to come up to visit.” He pecked your cheek before setting you down, which seemed to be in a friendly manner. But you knew better. You stepped away so the rest of his family could say hello to him, even though you wished you could have him all to yourself right now.

“Are you on the clock?” He asked when everyone gave him space. You shook your head.

“Not really. Your mom’s here, but I’m keeping an eye on the boys every now and then. I’m staying for dinner, though.” Francis nodded as he listened, and then smirked. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, a hand on your hip.

“Maybe after dinner, we can have some dessert?” You felt your cheeks heat up. Although he whispered so no one else could hear, his tone was bold and seductive. You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure.

“I think I’ll need some convincing.” You responded before walking away, out of his hold, to help Lois with dinner.

You didn’t need any convincing. With how long it’s been since the last time you saw Francis, it took everything in you not to drag him to the bathroom for some quick relief. But you knew that if you held out on him long enough, the end result would be amazingly worth it.

He made sure to sit next to you during dinner. He did nothing at first, putting food on your plate like a good friend would. Casually making conversation with everyone while you ate. Part of you thought he forgot about your little exchange.

But then, in the middle of dinner, he put his hand on your thigh. It was so surprising you almost choked on your water. Thank God there was a tablecloth to cover his actions. Above the table, he wasn’t even paying attention to you, too engrossed in a conversation with his father about something ranch related. You would’ve been hanging onto every word. You loved listening to Francis talk passionately about anything. But below the table, his hand was reaching the apex of your thigh, gripping it deliciously hard.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Dewey asked from his place across from you. You cleared your throat, a hand discreetly moving to Francis’.

“Yeah, Dew-Dew. My drink went down the wrong tube.” You grabbed Francis’ wrist, and before you could pry it off you, even though you wanted to do the complete opposite, he brushed his finger against your clothed core. He smirked, drawing his hand away while you took a deep inhale. “Now, keep telling me about that piano competition.”

You insisted to Lois that you help her with the dishes after everyone had finished eating. Surprising to her, Francis offered to help you, saying he wanted to catch up more with you. You talked about everything and nothing, washing and drying slowly to prolong your conversations.

As everyone started trailing to their beds, you bid them all good night. You made sure to smother Jamie in kisses before he was taken off. Being a baby, he barely gave you trouble and was, therefore, your favorite Wilkerson to babysit.

You waited for the click of Malcolm closing the door to the boys’ bedroom. When you heard it, you finished the last dish and handed it to Francis.

“I can’t believe you did that.” You dried your hands off and looked at him. He had a stupid smirk on his handsome face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He dried the plate and set it down before turning to you, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. Francis stared you up and down, lip caught between his teeth.

“Oh, please.” You laughed, moving to the living room. He followed behind you. “You knew what you were doing.”

“Just missed you, that’s all.” His hands were on your waist, turning you around to face him in his hold. He leaned in closely, nose bumping yours. A hand slid down to squeeze your ass. “Is that such a crime?”

Francis’ words always had such an effect on you. You’d be flustered one minute, not knowing what to do with yourself. The next, it was like you had become feral, grasping and clawing for any piece of him. He kissed you with such vigor that your knees went weak. Francis led you backward, not stopping until you were pinned between him and the wall. He nipped at your lip and your breath hitched, the pain feeling so good.

“Francis, your whole family’s here.” You whispered while your boyfriend trailed kisses down your neck.

“Then I guess you’ll have to be quiet, won’t you?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye. You could barely meet his gaze, eyelids heavy with lust. A hand set against your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. “You can do that for me, right baby?” You nodded, but he clicked his tongue. “Words, Y/n.”

“I’ll be quiet.” You whispered. Francis grinned.

“Good girl.” He kissed you again, the hand on your jaw creeping to the back of your neck. Francis’ words of praise made you wetter than his actions. You squeezed your thighs together, searching for some kind of relief. You couldn’t take the waiting anymore. “Need some help, baby?”

“Please, Francis.” You whined. He made quick work of unbuttoning your pants, yanking them down to pool around your ankles so you could step out of them. He dragged his hands up your bare thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You kept begging and pleading, making sure your voice was low.

And then he brushed his fingers right against your most sensitive spot. You clamped a hand against your mouth to muffle the moan that escaped you.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.” Despite all the time apart, he found your clit easily, playing with it like a button, begging to be pushed. He pushed his knee forward to separate your legs, bringing you down to grind on his thigh. You gasped, rutting your hips against him with Francis’ help. He pulled you back and forth, continuously teasing your clit.

“God, Francis, please.”

“What do you want?” He locked eyes with you again, refusing to let you get shy with him. “Come on, baby, what do you need? Just say it, and I’ll give it to you.”

“Your…” A particularly rough thrust against Francis cut you off. He smirked down at you.

“How can I give you what you want if you don’t tell me?” Francis knew exactly what you wanted. He just liked to be an asshole. Probably payback for you not giving in to him earlier.

“Your cock.” You whimpered. “Need your cock, Francis.” He grinned.

“See, was that so hard?” He asked condescendingly. Before you could roll your eyes at the tone, Francis grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up. You wrapped your limbs around him tightly to not fall and to keep him close to you. Keeping you up against the wall with one hand, Francis used his other to unbuckle his belt, tugging his pants down just enough to pull himself out of his boxers. He was hard against your thigh, so close to where you needed him most.

Francis pulled your panties to the side, showing off your pussy to him. He almost groaned at the sight, a sight he missed so much. He grabbed hold of himself, rubbing himself up and down, too agonizingly slow for your liking.

“Francis. Need you so bad.” You ground your hips down, and he got the message. After rubbing his tip through your folds a few times to gather your wetness, he buried his cock in you. You dug your nails into his back at the sensation. He filled you to the brim; the pain of him stretching you felt so good.

Francis didn’t take any mercy on you. He immediately started fucking into you, your head falling onto his shoulder as he turned your bones to jelly. You began to moan at the feeling, but he brought a hand to your mouth to stop you.

“Gotta be a good girl for me.” He panted. “Gotta be quiet. Fuck.” It took everything in you to follow his commands. Francis pistoned in and out of you hard; you don’t know how you contained yourself. “Jesus, you feel so good, Y/n.”

“Fuck, Francis.” You whined against his hand, throwing your head back against the wall while arching your back. He took his hand away to rub your clit, continuing to pound in and out of you.

Francis could tell you were getting close. You were practically squeezing the life out of him, clawing at his back and shoulders, gnawing at your lip to keep quiet because you wanted to be good for him.

“You wanna come, baby? I bet you do.” He teased.

“Please, lemme come, Francis.” You begged, gasping as all his attention on you brought you closer to the edge. “Please, I need to come so bad.”

“Okay, okay.” He shushed you, furthering his assault on your clit while leaning forward to suck at your neck. “You wanna come? Come. Do it.” His words pushed you over harshly. He had to keep you against the wall with his body, the hand previously holding you up now silencing you while the other helped you ride out your high. His thrusts started to become sloppy. “Oh, fuck.”

Francis reached his peak as well, coating your insides. His thrusts slowed to a stop as you both caught your breath. You gained enough energy to grab his face, bringing him to your lips.

“I missed you.” You whispered after a deep breath. Francis grinned, kissing you again.

“I missed you too, honey.”

#francis wilkerson x reader #francis wilkerson #francis wilkerson x reader smut #malcolm in the middle #malcolm in the middle x reader #agaypanic

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inkareds · 7 months

Text

First Time Modern Aegon Targaryen 3 / 10 - Unreal Unearth Event

nav // event masterlist // hotd m.list (tba) // ko-fi ✧.* word count: 4.3k (a long one lmao) ✧.* genre: angst with good ending ✧.* warnings: Aegon is an alcoholic trying to be better, Alicent and Otto aren't the best people, a lot of pining and self hatred (Aegon)

When Aegon meets you, someone so fun and yet so kind, he doesn't think you could ever love him. But when you do, he doesn't know if he deserves it.

Modern Aegon makes me so soft, like I hate canon Aegon sm but Modern! Aegon who wants to do better whose just a sad, depressed, little attention seeker whose trying. Now that, that pulls at my heartstrings.

As always lyric breakdown and analysis of this fic is at the end of it.

Also only ONE slot is left for my October writing event!

"Remember once I told you about // How before I heart it from your mouth // My name would always hit my ears // As such an awful sound // The first time that you called me 'baby' // and some part of me came alive"

“Aegon!” His mother calls.

“Aegon!” His brother calls.

“Aegon!” His father calls.

Aegon, Aegon, Aegon, Aegon.

It is his name. The one given by his father and mother. Aegon Targaryen, second child of Viserys Targaryen, first child of Alicent Hightower. And yet, he hates it when he hears it.

His father yells his name in contempt, as any and all mistakes his older sister feels the brunt of are all blamed on him. His mother yells his name in disappointment, hatred coating every syllable of his name when she speaks it. His brother yells his name in disgust, reprimanding him as if he is his brother’s keeper.

Aegon hates it. Though he knows it to be fair. For he is a Targaryen through and through with his dashing good looks, dazzling white hair, and delightful violet eyes. And with his charming looks and even deeper pockets, the public is much more lenient on him. Especially when he fucks every woman in his uni and drinks every kind of liquor until his eyes glaze over and he can’t speak.

His father hates him, he disappoints his mother, and he disgusts his brother. And so, he hates himself, he’s disappointed in himself, and he’s disgusted in himself.

But like an attention-seeking mutt who knows touch only when they are hit, he continues his ministrations. His drunken parties, his whoring attitude. If not to dull the ache of feeling less like a human and more of a mistake, then to get his family's attention, even if that attention is a terrible one.

It was pathetic and he knows it, everyone in his family and in his life tries to tell him that it’s pathetic as if he doesn’t understand that more than anyone else. But he laughs, a chagrined grin decorates his face, and he pretends like it doesn’t bother him. Then the next day he is drowning himself in gin at a frat party, shoving his tongue down a random person’s throat.

“Hey stranger,” he muses as he sits on the couch next to you.

You roll your eyes, “Not interested, pretty boy.”

“Oooo,” he feigns being hurt, dramatically placing a hand on his chest, “Playing hard to get are you, baby?”

His arm goes to sling itself around your shoulders as he leans himself to your side. You only laugh and sip your red solo cup. Letting the burn of whatever strong alcohol Aegon bought with his limitless money ease you into his touch.

“Nope, just not interested.”

“Oh come on, everyone’s interested in this,” at this point Aegon was so deep in his cups that his words slurred and he was leaning on you so much that in a few moments, he’ll have collapsed on your lap.

“Maybe that’s the issue dumbass,” you hummed grinning as he does somehow lose his balance even when seated and collapsed on your lap.

Aegon looks up at you from your lap, with a dopey grin and messy white hair. You couldn’t help yourself to rake your fingers through his silky locks, slightly tangled from sweat. He all but purrs at your touch, crooning his head like a cat towards the palm of your hand.

“I’m going to have to force you to sleep earlier than you usually do tonight pretty boy,” you spoke barely loud enough to be audible through the loud music.

Though Aegon was sure that even in the loudest of loud rooms he’d be able to hear you whisper in a crowd.

He pouts, “Why? The night’s still young.”

“Well, it’s 2 a.m. and in a couple of days, we have our grading for our final portraits collection.” You reminded him of the art class the two of you share together.

Much to the disappointment of Aegon, when he had graduated high school his mother had practically forced him to attend University for an undergrad. A major in Business Media and Marketing and a minor of his choice. To the surprise of everyone, he chose a minor in Fine Arts. That choice of minor is what led him to be in the same classes as you.

A major in Fine Arts and a minor in Art History, you lived and breathed the world of visual art. As his true self blossomed in all of his art classes, he couldn’t help but be more attentive to his classmates in those classes than the others. When a majority of them were the classic introverted, hermit, of art students, he repeatedly saw you attend frat party after frat party.

Drink yourself to drunkenness and partake in the pleasures of the flesh, though not as much as he does, but more than the other classmates that’s for sure. That’s what pulls him to you.

The juxtaposition of your existence was proof that someone intelligent can also be wild and fun, unlike his siblings. You were like him in that manner. You thrived on the recklessness of being young and free, yet when the sun rose you glowed with passion and thrived for a happy future. He didn’t think that was possible.

Didn’t think someone could think and have so much hope for the future and not be a stick in the mud like Aemond, Helaena, or hell even Daeron is.

But there you were.

Not surprising anyone, even your friends, you became quick friends with Aegon Targaryen. However, what surprised people was how long you were friends with him. They thought the two of you would be friends for a little while, screw around here and there, get bored of each other and then move on to your separate lives.

Yet here you were, almost three years into your undergrad and almost three years into your friendship with the Targaryen and neither of you have ended up in each other’s bed.

Though not for a lack of trying, Aegon was a merciless flirt. He tried at first to woo you into his bed, but when he realised that didn’t work he thought the friends-to-friends-with-benefits pipeline would serve the two of you better. When you wouldn’t relent to that, he finally accepted that the two of you won’t fuck. Though the flirting never stops.

“Come on dragon,” you hauled him towards his bed after finally convincing him to get in the Uber with you.

Aegon, with his face smushed into his pillow, smiles at the nickname you gave him after finding out his family was one of those rich old ones that somehow had a family sigil.

“God, you’re going to regret drinking that much tomorrow morning.” You chuckled moving to take off his shoes and placing them down and going out to grab him a glass of water.

“I always do!” he yells out and gets himself comfortable on his bed.

“But you never learn!” You call out from the kitchen, grabbing a pitcher of water and an empty glass, as well as something for the morning when his headaches wrack his brain.

The two of you did this so often now that it feels like routine. It wasn’t like you were always the responsible one, there were also times when he’d have to pull you away from bad decisions. It’s just that he makes them more often than you do.

When you return, his eyes are already closed and his body is somewhat wrapped in blankets. You silently chuckled and for the second time that night, after putting down the things you were carrying, you weaved your hands through his hair.

You always loved them, envied them to a degree, how effortless gorgeous his curls were. Even when he was hammered beyond insanity, they were always there to frame his gorgeous face.

So maybe you did like him a little bit. More than how friends would but you won’t ever admit it. Not to him at least. You know he isn’t ready for anything serious and you didn’t want to put that burden onto him. So you were content in just being his friend. It wasn’t too bad.

But when you are about to leave, his hand grasps your arm and he cracks his eyes slightly, “Sleep here just for tonight. It’s cold and late.”

You know that it’s those extra feelings of yours for him that allow you to agree and slink into his bed.

As drunk as he was, Aegon knows what he’s doing. He pulls you close to him and lets the slow rise and fall from your breathing lull him to sleep. Hopeful that you don’t see through his apparent affection and longing. And you think he is asleep when you place a soft kiss on his forehead.

When he wakes the next day, it is close to noon and your warmth has left his bed, leaving behind a small indentation as the only proof of you ever being there last night. Other than the little note you left on his bedside table instructing him to drink the pill you’ve provided so that he could actually work on his artwork and not be too distracted by his clanging hangover.

He grits his teeth and pretends he doesn’t wish you were still here.

Picking up the note he can’t help but smile at your handwriting, “Don’t forget to drink lots of water pretty boy.”

Pretty boy, dumbass, dragon, sometimes, though extremely rarely, Aeg. He never hears you call him his actual name. It’s always the little nicknames and pet names. He likes it that way, it separates you from everyone else.

From his family who calls it in contempt and from the people around him who calls it either in mock sweetness before they ask him for a favour or in lust.

He doesn’t know when he started loving you instead of just liking you. Doesn’t know when the line between seeing you as a friend and as a crush started to blur together in his mind. But he knows when he does realise it, he tries everything he can to hide from it. Because he doesn’t want to think about how you might feel about him.

But as the events of the night repeat in his mind, a deep guttural kind of sickness bubbles in his stomach. So much so that he runs to the bathroom to expel the bile and alcohol from the previous night.

Aegon doesn’t know what is worse, you rejecting him if he were to pursue you or what is happening now, you accepting him if he were to pursue you.

One of the choices means you saw what everyone else saw, someone not worth being loved. But the latter means you thought he was deserving of all your love and passion. Which he doesn’t think he does.

Do you see yourself as that low to allow yourself to think his love could match your own?

No, you deserve someone better than him. He knows that.

But why does the thought of you being with someone else cause such a disgruntled fear and hatred within himself that he can’t help but wretch out more vomit from his system?

He hates it. Hates the war that’s raging in his heart, hates the way it twists and breaks him apart.

He’s happy that you feel the same way he does, but he hates that it means you love him. Him, someone so undeserving of it.

He wishes to see you spend your energy, time, and love with someone who actually deserves it but would rather die than see you with someone else.

The war rages on in his heart, through days and weeks, you can see it too. Though you ignore it.

You know better than most when to leave people alone to fight their own battles. And right now, though you didn’t know what battle Aegon was facing, whether that was between him and his family or him and himself. All you know is that he’ll come to you with his heart and problems when he’s ready. For now, you won’t force it upon him.

He knows it too and he hates it too. He wishes you could just make his decision for him, just like the people closest in his life have done. But you’ve given him his own self to decide.

So, there you were, still partying till dawn when you didn’t have exams. Drinking, laughing, having fun. All the while he laughs and jokes around, pretending like his mind isn’t just filled with one thing, you.

But then one day he’s at a party and when he sees you refuse a drink, controlling yourself as tomorrow you had to wake up early, he refuses the drink as well. When you bid him goodbye to go home earlier, he accompanies you home, going home early as well.

When you decline his invitation to go to a party the next week as you have to finish your dissertation. He doesn’t push you to join him and instead ends the phone call and opens his laptop to study for an upcoming test in Media 101.

When you rage to him about not being able to get the proportions to a painting correctly, he doesn’t offer to grab a drink with you to loosen your ministrations and paint easier. Instead of going over to your studio and giving as much constructive criticism as he possibly could.

When finals finally ended and the two of you went to a party every night, he didn’t drink himself till he was close to passing out. Instead, he’s laughing and joking around with you. Oddly having deep conversations as the two of you idly make yourselves away from the party and to an empty field in the Uni where you could stargaze and talk for ages.

And when he invites you to his family’s annual gala, the one the Targaryens have to make stronger business connections and is filled to the brim with prim and proper ladies and gents, as he always does every year since you’ve been friends, he actually tells his mother that he’ll be there. Not like every other year where he gives her a non-commital answer, only to flake out the day off, making Aemond have to drag him to the event and him asking you to be his ‘date’ mere hours before the actual event.

No, this time he asks you weeks in advance. Telling you the details, the colours his family wants him to wear, the kinds of people his mother tells him will be there. Details that he’s been informed of every year but has never made a note to remember.

And he can see the way your eyes sparkle with excitement.

Then the day comes and his hands are sweaty with nervousness. Why? Perhaps it’s because this is the first time he’s attended a gala, without a hint of alcohol in his system since he was twelve. And when he comes to your apartment to pick you up in Sunfyre, his affectionately named yellow Ferrari sf90 Stradale, he can’t help but let his jaws drop to the floor.

Every other time he’s dragged you to this gala after Aemond has dragged him into it, you’ve had to find something formal to use that’s already in your closet. Quickly freshening yourself up in the small amount of time Aegon has told you to get ready.

But now, with weeks of preparation, you looked incredible.

“God, I forgot how obnoxious your car is.”

“Did you also forget he has a name?” He regains his composure quickly.

You roll your eyes as he opens the door for you.

“Rightttt,” you cringed, “I forgot how obnoxious Sunfyre is.”

When the two of you get to the large estate and Aegon gives his keys over to a valet after highlighting the importance of the car, you two walk arm-in-arm into the gala. Unsurprisingly, guests are on him like vultures to rotten meat almost immediately. Aemond is close behind, watching his brother with a hawk-like gaze to make sure he doesn’t say anything that would embarrass the family name even more.

Though Aegon mentioned to you before that Aemond lessened his watch when Aegon started bringing you to these things, most likely believing that you can somehow keep him in line.

As the night drags on and the two of you are separated, Aegon’s throat grows drier and drier aching for the buzz of alcohol. Especially when his grandfather and mother pull him to one of the closed-off and empty rooms to talk about his father’s company.

“Like I have told you time and time again, I don’t want it. Let Rhaenyra have it, father practically already names her to inherit everything when he dies.” He argues.

The ‘conversation’ was quickly getting heated as the other two people in the room pressured him to take his inheritance as it is what he is entitled to.

“Then what happens when Rhaenyra takes over the company? She’ll quickly remove you and your siblings from the company’s name, she’ll take everything and leave us with nothing.” Alicent argues, quickly closing the distance between the two of them.

Aegon may have grown taller than Alicent now, but she is still his mother, and that causes him to slink away.

“She won’t! You’re letting grandfather’s fears get into your head-”

“Aegon!” His grandfather yells, causing both him and his mother to jolt in surprise, “You are your father’s first son, that company belongs to you. Not Rhaenyra. You were born for the position. Take it!” He leaves before Aegon can argue about the matters further.

When the wooden doors slam, his mother roughly grabs his face and forces him to look at her.

“I’m surprised I don’t smell alcohol on you, but that’s not going to do anything if you don’t get out there and start getting our business partners to be on your side. The company will belong to you even if Rhaenyra tries to take it.”

She roughly shoves his face away and just like his grandfather storms out of the room. Leaving Aegon isolated and alone in a room with a well-stocked bar.

“Hel, have you seen Aegon anywhere? He went to talk to his mom and grandfather and now I can’t find him.”

Helaena only shook her head and furrowed her brows. Clearly worried if not slightly frustrated at her brother’s disappearance. It wouldn’t be long before their mother came to them angry about Aegon not conversing with the guests.

“I know where he is,” you turned and were met with the irritated expression of Aemond.

You looked at him with a slightly worried expression and accepted his silent offer to lead you to where Aegon was. After being friends with Aegon for so long you’ve made a weird friendship with his siblings, Daeron less than the others due to the age difference, but both Aemond and Helaena has been good companions in these events when Aegon would drag you along.

But when the two of you neared a secluded part of the large estate you grew even more worried about Aegon. You’re not dumb to see how he was changing, how much less he’s been drinking and how he’s ever so slightly more focused on getting better grades. You may not know the reason why, waiting for him to tell you instead of asking yourself, but you’ve tried to be supportive in your own little way.

Removing any and all visible alcohol in your apartment. Helping him with his coursework even when he doesn’t ask for it. Initiating more hang outs that were earlier in the day so he’d be forced to wake up earlier and thus have more time in the day. You were happy you got to help or support him in your own little way.

You just hoped he could see how proud you were.

“He’s in there.” Aemond gestures to a closed wooden door, though before you walked in you looked at him.

“You’re not going to drag him out?”

Aemond paused, his eyes looking away before humming to himself.

“Not this time.” Was his simple answer before he left.

When he walks away you walk into the room. The first thing that greets you is the state of the room.

There were couches with pillows thrown to the other side of the room, tables overturned with chess pieces clattered on the ground, and chairs broken after getting thrown to the other side of the room. Not to mention the bar cabinets wide open with glass shards from dropped wine and champagne glasses and spilt alcohol littering the ground.

The next was the large glass doors that led to a beautiful balcony that was wide open, its curtains billowing in the wind as the sole inhibitor of the room stood leaning against the bannisters. One hand on the bannister and the other hanging low holding onto a bottle of wine.

His white hair was a mess and he had thrown his suit jacket somewhere in the room, there were red stains on his white shirt, most likely from the alcohol, and his back was facing you.

“I think mother would prefer me to stay here and wallow in my patheticness than get back out there.” He states when the door you entered from creaked open, “So fuck off, brother.”

You sighed, not bothering to answer him and instead turning to close the door behind you. Aegon grew frustrated at the lack of response.

“I said fuck off!” he yelled, waving his almost-empty bottle of wine around, hanging his head low as his free hand ruffle his hair even more.

You still didn’t answer, walking towards him slowly, making sure he could hear your steps so that you wouldn’t give him a fright.

“What the fuck are you still doing here, Aemond?!”

“I’m not Aemond.” You whispered as your arms wrapped his body in a hug.

You feel his back tense before slumping to the bannister and your hold, dropping the wine bottle. Not caring if it smashed or not, which thankfully it didn’t. You leaned your entire body onto his back and rested your head against the back of his neck, inhaling what was left of his cologne that was slowly getting outpowered by the staunch smell of alcohol.

The two of you stayed like that for a little while, that is until you feel his body begin to wrack. Followed by the soft sounds of his cries. That was when you let go of him and instead moved to stand beside him. Leaning against the bannisters as well as you watched him cover his face with his hands. Sobs and tears crashing through him like waves and waves of disgust over himself.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” he repeated, again and again and again.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore and you took his arms in your hands, pulling it away so that you could see his face. Tears freely flowed from his eyes and you reached up to wipe them away.

“It’s alright pretty boy.” You hummed, smiling up at him.

The sheer warmth and kindness you exuded to someone like him caused his cries to wrack through him even harder. Gods he doesn’t deserve you.

“I tried,” he croaked out. “I tried so hard.”

You hummed in response, not really knowing what he was talking about but knowing he was speaking more to himself than to you at this moment. As you reached up to wipe his tears again he took ahold of your hand and kept it in its place on his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“I tried so hard to be better, be better for all of them, for my mother, for my grandfather, for my siblings, for you.” He spoke through closed eyes and furrowed brows, not seeing your wide-eyed expression. “Yet it’s never enough, I can never be better. No matter how hard I try you’re always going to find me fucking drunk out of my ass, a fucking mess. Someone who doesn’t deserve your love.”

“Aegon.” his eyes snap open at the mention of his name from your lips.

That was when he saw how close the two of you were. You were peering at him with so much adoration in your eyes that he wished he could slink back in fear of how much you loved him.

“You are always enough for me.” You stated, now bringing both your hands to cup his face, not in the harsh or forceful way that his mother did, but in your own soft way, “You don’t have to be the perfect person to deserve my love. I’m giving it to you. I don’t care, but the fact that you want to be better itself just shows me how much you deserve my love. I love you Aegon, God I have loved you for so long.”

He felt his chest constricting.

“I love you so much that while I’m worried about you every time you drink, I’ll be here for you every step of your wanting to stop. And I love you too much to run if you make a mistake here and there. Aegon,” you mused smiling now seeing how your words were slowly seeping into him, “I love you.”

He couldn’t say anything. His words were failing him and he felt the need to push you away and pull you closer. So, you took matters into your own hands, you placed your lips on his own and let him melt into your touch. There was nothing sensual or lustful about the kiss, nothing like how he’d kiss the other guys or girls at his frat parties. With you, it was all love and adoration.

When you pulled away Aegon’s eyes widened with desperation and fear, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.” You whispered when you noticed, making good of your statement by placing your hands at the back of his neck as he wrapped his own around your figure.

“I want to be better,” he whispers as he places his forehead against yours, “I want to be better for you.”

“I know you do, Aegon.”

His name sounds like honey on your lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Aegon.”

And he thinks he doesn’t mind it when you say it. No, he loves it when you say it.

In First Time, Hozier sings about the absolute beauty of finding someone so similar to yourself. He says that a part of him dies and some part of him thrives when his lover calls him baby. I imagine the same way with Aegon. He’s so used to his name being called when he’s in trouble, especially when someone’s yelling it out. He can only remember his name being called with tones of disappointment, anger, and exhaustion. But with the Reader, every time they call his name, it’s always filled with so much kindness and care that he wants to be better for the Reader. He knows the Reader likes him and he knows they know he likes him too, but he refuses to confront them about it until he’s become a better version of himself. The part of him that dies is the part of him that wants his name to be called in an angry manner and the part of him that suddenly lives is the old childish dream of his to just have fun with the people he loves.

in conclusion

I AM SOFT FOR MODERN AEGON TARGARYEN TRYING TO BE BETTER

#red ink unreal unearth event #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #modern aegon targaryen #modern aegon #aegon x reader #modern aegon x reader #modern aegon targaryen x reader #modern hotd #modern house of the dragon

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drakaripykiros130ac · 6 months

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Why are TG stans trying so hard to pair their greenies with Team Black members? It reminds me of Otto’s schemes - doing everything they can to try to latch onto even a small shred of power surrounding the Iron Throne so they feel like they get something, even though their faction started the war that nearly destroyed the whole dynasty.

You get nothing.

Aegon III and Viserys II are not going to end up with members of the faction who usurped and then killed their mother.

Leave Rhaenyra’s babies alone!

Aegon III chooses Daenaera Velaryon as his bride, at the suggestion of Baela and Rhaena, because he liked her, and it is a terrific match. The two powerful Valyrian houses finally unite, and this time in a very acceptable manner (not a Crown Princess forced to reproduce with a gay man, or an old king bedding a 12 year old).

As for Viserys - he did deserve better than Larra Rogare. Way better. But let’s not forget that the greens themselves are responsible for him being ripped from his family. He is lucky he survived (GRRM really is Team Daemon). As for Larra Rogare - this woman can’t be erased without erasing all the important plot points of the reign of Aegon III.

And I would much rather have all this come to pass than any possibility of Aegon and Viserys being forced to come together with any member of a traitorous faction that destroyed their young lives. Yeah, that’s right - you know who I am talking about.

So this whole “Why not keep Jaehaera alive…she is just a girl…”

Princess Visenya was just a baby girl too, so…

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fuckalicent · 8 months

Text

hotd ao3 recs that make me slightly feral

it’s finally here!!! i will potentially be adding to this in the future so keep an eye out <3 also this may not stick only to hotd and extend to the wider asoiaf world.

baby teeth by zoe_millin_writes

aemond x helaena. incredibly written aemond character analysis. chapters are from aemond’s pov throughout his childhood and into his adulthood and his trauma surrounding sex, his parents, his injury etc etc is so incredibly and profoundly done. i don’t think i’ve read anything more beautiful and intense. there is also one helaena pov and my god is it so amazingly written. the characterisation and details are out of this world. definitely read all the warnings because it is very intense and potentially triggering. the exploration of aemond’s relationship with religion and by extension his mother and sister is done so well and genuinely what kept me tied to this fic.

see, what had happened was… by daylander

aemond x rhaena. from rhaena’s pov. i can’t remember it all as vividly as i should because i read it a while ago but god is it a delight. it’s funny, sad, amusing, entertaining & overall just so incredible. there is so much about rhaena’s experience living without her sister for so long on dragonstone and how it impacts her relationship with baela. so much about her relationship with daemon and by extension the velaryon/targaryen relations. just so so great. the scenes with rhaena and aemond are just.. chef’s kiss. they’re my favourite chaotic childhood friends to… whatever they are LMAO

spring’s end by navree

oneshot (9k words) from alicent’s pov about the lead-up to her wedding to viserys. made me wince more than a few times just because she deserved so much better :( the way her relationships with rhaenyra, her father, viserys & even criston (although brief) are shown is so beautiful and haunting to me.

would that they were not by navree

i fucking cried. a oneshot (7k words) about the fateful encounter with blood and cheese. so beautifully written and the relationships between the kids, alicent, cole and otto are described so heartbreakingly.

in your grave by 136108

This is the thing you married, the voice in the back of her head whispered gleefully. You saw its pretty smile and its dainty hands and so you dragged it into your bed and upon your cock and trusted that it could never hurt you. You bred it like a bitch and you promised to cut out its tongue and all this time you should have been worried about its teeth. But you did not and now it will leech your throne and your legacy and its pretty mouth will swallow the House of the dragon whole.

SO FUCKING CATHARTIC!!! we deserved vengeful evil alicent and i’m forever mad we didn’t get her… season 2 will be her moment trust. this is a short yet incredibly impactful piece about alicent visiting viserys on his death bed. amazingly written and the most satisfying thing ever.

5 times alicent and criston almost kissed and the 1 time they almost didn’t by gracelesson

I FUCKING CRIED!!!!!!!!!!!! most healing comforting beautiful thing ive read in a while oh my god op is crazy talented i’m in awe. the way s/a, marriage, sexuality & growing up were handled here were literally incredible and i cant even begin to express how much i love this. this is a modern au and it’s probably very different from whatever you’re expecting. i adore the dynamics shown between alicent, cole & her children ugh i swear i feel giddy all over. beautiful.

my hand was the one you reached for by nuncasais

literally the best. snapshots of alicent, criston, and her kids’ lives at the keep during the time jump. i love these types of fics that cover unseen periods of time — the detail and thought gone into each chapter is incredible and so so meticulous. chapters are from either criston or alicent’s pov’s. beware u might (definitely) cry.

#recs #hotd #hotd fic recs #ao3 #ao3 recs #aemond targaryen #team green #alicent hightower #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #criston cole #guess my favourite characters challenge (extremely hard)

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redactedparx · 1 month

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so… guys… i was almost barricade at last night(boston)‘s show and

dear god

j everything b also there was this one bit where someone was trying to pass him a bracelet thru the crowd and their friends were pointing to them and awsten totally called them out and started teasing them like

and then they dropped it and he was like “you really want to give that to me? after it’s been on the dirty beer ground? you really think i want that?” and i just ab died

he was so mean teasing humiliating them i need him to mean dom me so bad

‘you really think you deserve my cock baby? why don’t you prove it’ i alr p much lost my voice from screaming last night it wouldn’t hurt if he fucked my throat until i couldn’t speak at all.

need him to throw me around while he degrades me

awsten please just one chance pleas

he did a lot of that kind of teasing/lightheartedly insulting some ppl in the crowd. sm had a sign that said ‘bring back felony steve’ and the writing was like thin and awsten was first like ‘what? what does that say?’ and then once the crowd shouted it to him he was like “that’s what it says? you wrote that in fucking mechanical pencil get a thick marker jesus christ” awsten pls make fun of me i’ll come in my pants

also earlier in the show sm next to me had a sign that said ‘#1 GEOFF FAN’ like printed out arial font and huge and he pointed it out and was like ‘geoff! geoff look! ugh he doesn’t pay attention he doesn’t live in the moment always on that fuckin phone’ and i shit you not geoff fucking BLUSHED kms

o also then every one started chanting that geoff was a screenager so real tbh

geoff also got like 3 different points of ppl chanting his name and otto only got one 😶 sorry otto

side note their insta otto’s so in his slut era recently/pos

there was also a point where awsten was making fun of lucas for being shy and there was sm about a bet where awsten and geoff would pay him to do sm and they kept trying to get him to do it and then lucas said ‘geoff isn’t gonna pay me he told me’ and awsten was just like “did you just call geoff a liar??!” and have everyone boo then he was like cheer if i’m a perfect angel precious baby boy who can do no wrong (or sm w that vibe everyone was screaming too loud for me to rly hear) what if i died

him being teasing like that and going back to his like ego thing the whole time he’s so hot i need him to tell me he’s better than me

at some point right after lucas went on stage to test the mic ect before parx came on i think sm behind me was like ‘is it just me or is one of the security guys rly hot’ and i just turned around and went ‘you mean lucas??!!’ i don’t think they were talking about him b that was so funny to me and lucas is soooo hot

someone got a shirt thrown on stage for awsten that said ‘I FUCK FISH’ and he was like “you guys really want me to wear this?! on top of everything??!”(overalls and long sleeve t) and yes he did wear it p much the whole show(GOD he must have been so sweaty after) and then at one point he went onto the drum riser and was like “otto would you rather fuck a swordfish or a flounder?” then pointed the mic at him and otto j giggled and said “i’d rather play fuck about it!” and idk why but that was just so hot to me

o also during loveless’s set julian got rid of a coat(?) or am and threw it side stage and i saw sm catch it and julian was like “thank you so much love you for that” and i SWEAR TO GOD it was otto like it so looked like him i was far away and he was in the dark so i couldn’t 100% see him b i SWEAR i SWEAR it was otto

i don’t have any specific geoff moments i can talk about i think but he was just unfairly gorgeous handsome pretty the whole time i lost my mind.

geoff is the hottest to me b GODDAMN awstens fuckin demeanor Fucked Me Up i can’t stop thinking about it now

-spiral

#ak #gw #ow #spiral anon #HOLY SHIT???#co signed

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lya-dustin · 1 year

Text

Someone will remember us

Chapter 47

Taglist: @stargaryenx @mercedesdecorazon

Gif by @gojuo

Aemma refuses to speak to him, silently fuming all the way back to their rooms.

Refusing his help, his touch and letting him know he had fucked up when he let a boy of four and ten get the best of him.

Aemond hated being seen as weak, having reminders that he has been weak.

Luke laughing at the pig and telling Rhaena about the pink dread ---which Rhaena did not find humorous nor did Daemon and Rhaenyra--- had made him lose his fraying composure.

“Vaemond’s done good work with your dear brother.” He practically spits when he says the word brother.

You deserve a better husband.

That misbegotten twat only had his face untouched because Aemma stood between them.

What did Jacaerys know?

Aemond was deserving of his wife, he who studied the blade, studied history and philosophy, he who claimed the largest dragon in the known world.

Aemond had earned his greatness and the gods rewarded him like they had rewarded Hugor of the Hill.

A maid as supple as a willow with eyes as deep as pools, like the one the Maiden had given the King of the Andals.

A maid who is not so kind and forgiving tonight.

“Good, you had it coming.” His wife says as she dismissed her handmaidens and Aemond helped her out of her court dress. She doesn’t trust them ever since that girl tried to make off with her diary and killed Teora in the process.

Someone knows she has visions, or at least suspects, and because of that, Aemond has made himself useful by unlacing and unbuttoning the, occasionally complicated, clothes she wears.

“Aemee.” He said surprised she wouldn’t take his side.

“Did you ever stop to think that by calling them Strongs, you put us in danger as well? The court is already saying some horseshit that I am really Teora’s bastard obtained to replace a stillborn baby, what happens when they get word of what you said?” She asked glaring at him through the mirror. “I am sorry that the sight of the pig unsettled you and that Luke laughed, but I will not apologize for Jace because you knew that calling him Strong is just like you seeing Luke and the fucking pig.”

They have japed, they have flirted and have fucked in front this mirror, tonight as his father dies alone, they argue in front of it.

“That will be the least of our problems tomorrow, Ābrazȳrys.” He reminds her.

Tomorrow he will be forced to choose his brother over his wife and child, not because of brotherly love, but because he had sworn an oath to his mother.

They were doomed from the start, he thinks.

“I know. Gods, not even him dying was enough to keep things from going to shit.” She sighed tiredly as she finally pulled off her gown. “I should have tried harder to override your mother’s dinner arrangements.”

Always putting the blame on her shoulders. She could blame a billion people, but it always ends up the same.

Aemma thinks everything is always her fault.

He blames mother for that. Mother always made sure to let everyone think it was Aemee’s fault.

When Aegon did something while they played together, it was Aemma for egging him on, when Helaena misbehaved it was because Aemma had surely induced her into trouble, when Aemond lost his eye to Lucerys it was because Aemma had led him to this ambush she fabricated in her mind.

“Mother doesn’t know why I hate the sight of pigs so much, Aemee. You had no idea she would disregard all your requests at the last minute.” He reminded her.

It had been like one of those tile games, where the fall of one tile leads to the rest falling. Tonight, the last of the tiles falls, what does it matter if three quarters of the court were banished hours ago? What does it matter if they fought at dinner as if they were still immature children?

None of it will. War between their families had been inevitable from the moment Ser Otto Hightower decided to offer his five- and ten-year-old daughter to the king.

Yes, that had been the first tile, he thinks.

“If you say so.” His Aemee said and turned to return the favor and get him out of his court clothes.

-----

It’s too late anyways, she tells herself as she put on the sapphire Aemond gave her.

Aegon will be made king against his will, the courtiers will bend the knee to avoid being killed and as always Aemma never does enough to stop it.

She wears black for mourning, a Myrish lace veil that several slave women were worked to death for. Bobbin lace, an invention that has taken over the world and that Myr is the king of because the intricate designs and long bolts they produce with slaves. Something she occasionally feels guilt for, but shoves aside because they can barely handle the war in the Stepstones let alone something as big as war with Myr.

“The King is dead.” Aemma tells her handmaids in a whisper. “But that is not all, Prince Aegon raped Princess Helaena’s handmaiden, Dyana, yesterday and the queen seeks to put him on the Iron Throne.”

“You play a dangerous game, Aemee.” Aemond said in Valyrian as his own manservant helped him dress.

“What can they do? Kill me?” she asked in like and laughed bitterly.

What keeps Aemond loyal is the bloody oath his mother made him swear. Had Aemond listened to her in her scheme to kidnap Aegon and drag him to Dragonstone with them, Otto would be forced to back down.

But everything had been too little, too late and Otto too experienced in this game for them.

Aegon would agree, he doesn’t want to be king, and he has neither the capability nor the morality to even sit on the throne.

It would reject him just as the Iron Throne rejected Maegor and had rejected Viserys until it killed him.

The Iron Throne had been made by dragons and blacksmiths, but the origin of House Targaryen is one of magic. Visenya Targaryen had used Valyrian magic the Throne to cut those unworthy of it hoping it would be Aenys who it cut.

It was a living entity, something Alicent and Otto dismissed despite the cuts it made on them.

Aemma had sat in it once when she was nine, ran her hands on the arms, swung her legs until father’s artist friend had finished with the sketch. The only thing that happened was that her skirt had snagged on the last step and tore leaving a scarp of blue there for the rest of eternity.

“The moment your life and that of our child is in danger, we leave for Dragonstone, I promise you.” He promised. "Fuck my oath, if they do not keep their end of the deal, I won't honor it either."

Aemma hopes he lives to keep it.

------

“My condolences, your highness.” Criston whispered as he escorts her to Queen Alicent.

“At least he will not see the horrors we will live through, Ser. Brother against sister and all for a second son’s greed.” Aemma sighed in defeat.

A strange child she was and a strange woman she grew into.

Knows more than she should, and the source of that knowledge always an unwelcome surprise.

“No songs will be sung about you, I am afraid.” She says and he froze.

Had Prince Aemond told her about the Dornish witch?

No, such things are not to be confided to women. It couldn’t be, Prince Aemond trusted his wife, but he knew better than to betray a confidence.

“How do you know that your highness?” he asked dreading the worst.

“I heard it in a dream, I think.” The girl dismissed it as nonsensical. “Aemma the Dreamer, as if I didn’t have so many epithets to my name already.”

The king had spoken of a dream, Aegon’s dream and a Long Night, the knight had made out the words last night. Words he had once heard Rhaenyra mutter in her sleep.

Long Night.

It is all true, the dying king had said, the prince who was promised.

Same words the new Princess of Dragonstone was fond of using when speaking of her unborn son.

The queen had used the old man’s words to support her cause and because he owed her his life, Criston did not question what she heard.

“Thank you, Ser Criston, you may leave.” The queen said.

“I would prefer he stay, your grace.” The girl said calmly, but the slight tremor in the princess’ hand reminded him the girl fears being left alone with her still.

He leaves, because he knows that if he stays Queen Alicent will suspect his loyalty to her is not the same as before.

-----

“I suppose you know your grandfather is dead.” The Queen is not delighted by the words, nor grieving him like she has seen wives mourn their husbands.

But she supposed those wives did love their husbands.

“Yes, he told me he was dying yesterday morning. When he asked me for a true report of what was happening at court.” The princess stays standing and at a distance to run if need be.

She does not trust Alicent, she never will, especially after knowing she was on board with the potential murder of her brothers, her mother and her.“It is why I wanted yesterday to be perfect, give him a good send off before he joins our ancestors in the Isle of the Blessed.”

“May he find rest in the Seven Heavens.” The queen said with a nod of her head.

Valyria believed the afterlife was all underground, that hell and heaven were in the same realm ruled by its king and queen. The Faith believed there were seven heavens and seven hells, depending on how good or bad you were you were assigned one of them.

“I saw him last night before he---” the queen sighed, not theatrically, the princes noted. “This will be difficult to hear, but he told me he wished for Aegon to be king.”

This Aemma refused to believe, grandfather knew about the rape of Dyana, he would never change his mind about it.

“His last words and you were the only one to hear it. And now he's dead.” The princess mocked her. “I may be six and ten, but I am not a fool, your grace.”

“It is the truth.” The queen stood by her lies and Aemma scoffed at it. “Uttered with his own lips."

“So, you say, but the king told me himself that Aegon was unfit, that the Iron Throne would kill him like it killed Maegor for being a fucking rapist.” The Princess argued.

“Do not speak such words so loudly, girl. You may be Aemond’s wife, but you walk on thin ice.” The queen hissed in warning.

Aemma will not be cowered, not when she knows she can spit on Aegon’s ugly mug and know he cannot hurt her.

“You hurt me; you lose him.” The girl warned with a smirk. “Besides, to quote my dear uncle Daemon, dreams did not make us kings, dragons did. Something my mother has more of.”

#aemma velaryon #someone will remember us fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #asoiaf fanfic #house of the dragon #asoiaf au #ocappreciationtag #oc fanfiction #fyeahhotdocs

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Note

Can we maybe see the next instalment to the Otto-Brooksie-Annie drama? Will Annie finally find out about Brooksie’s infidelity? 🥺

Okay, so the next installment isn't as much about Otto/Annie/Brookie. It's a bit of a bonding moment between Carter and his kids. But does Brookie show up to the family vacation? Keep in mind that EVERY one of the Baizen's will be there. Along with Annie and Daisy. Even Zephyr's daughters Veda and Rosie are there. Story and Carter wanted Z to be able to enjoy himself, Veda always needs to have someone around her. She always needs to be touching someone. We'll eventually get into that mess.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

I’m Bringing Blankets

Summary: First night with the Baizen’s in the Hamptons

Pairings: The Baizen’s

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, underage drinking, drug use (marijuana/mushrooms), Illiana's mouth, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.2K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Otto Baizen Masterlist

Otto tags a swig of his beer, trying to watch the girls. Trying to get out of his head, and remove Annie. It was a failing game. It was the last night of just him and the girls before his family came for the rest of the week. And of course Illiana had used her puppy dog eyes to let them go out to a local bar. He of course thought it was a terrible idea, but Illiana had appealed to his better nature. He loses focus on them dancing with each other the moment that Annie sat down at their table.

“You look deep in thought?”

“Are you not?” he asks her with a smirk. She nods her head, and reaches for his beer bottle. “Careful now, you’re underage, Annie Gables.”

“One sip won’t hurt anyone,” their conversation was too easy. She had thought about Brooks less and less. And even dreaded the thought of going home. Scared of what she would find. Over a week of him alone, and his favorite excuse for his recent behavior was right in front of her. His own brother.

He gives her a timid smile, before looking back down at the table. Otto didn’t get nervous in front of women, and here he sat, unsure what to say to the pretty redhead. “You ready for the rest of your family to be here?”

“Ready for ten more Baizen’s? I guess. Brookie coming?” Annie is the one to look at the table shrugging.

“Haven’t heard from him. He’s really busy at work,” really busy working on another woman. She has to bite at her lip, so she doesn’t cry. Unsure of how she’s going to go back. Ashamed that it’s him sleeping with someone else, and not the drugs that makes her want to leave.

“Annie, you deserve so much more than that. You need someone who will love and cherish you,” she looks up at Otto, and he reaches over to cup her cheek. The two having one of the many tender moments they’d had the past few days.

Iclynn stops her dancing to stare at the two. Confusion wasn’t even the word. She knew something was going on between Brooks and Annie, but now there was something blooming between her and Otto. “Ow, jackass,” she shouts at an older man who bumps into her.

“Well, look what we have here. Aren’t you girls a pretty bunch?”

“In your fucking dreams, asshat. Leave,” Illiana gives him a less than polite shove, while Daisy moves further away. Looking over to the table where Otto and Annie are, and bites at her lip. “Excuse me, I didn’t fucking stutter.”

“Ills, shut up,” Iclynn pulls her little sister back.

“A bunch of college girls, trying to sneak into this exclusive club. Which dick did you suck to get in here? I’ll give you another, and we can go to the VIP room,” Iclynn pulls at Illiana to get them away from the situation. “Oh, come on sweet cheeks. You’re ruining all the fun.”

“My pussy cost a lot more than you’re willing to spend.”

“Sugar baby, huh? You want daddy’s money?”

“Oh my god. I already got daddy’s money. Leave us alone!” Iclynn tries dragging her sister away, but Illiana was just getting started.

“You looking for a new daddy?” his eyes look hungrily at Daisy who rubs along her chest, tears in her eyes, and she only looks at Otto.

“My father has more than enough money. I don’t need your cheap ass,” Iclynn begins to get uncomfortable with the talk of money, even giving a yell of Otto’s name. The crowd backs further away from them, and she grabs Daisy's hand.

“You fucking bitch.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“Ills! Stop,” Iclynn reaches for her hand, and starts dragging her over to Otto, who finally takes a glance at the girls, and sees Iclynn trying to drag his sister, while Daisy has worried her chest to a deep red shade. “Just leave us alone. We’re leaving.”

“Shit,” Otto jumps up, jogging over to the situation. Looking over the girls, before pushing them behind his back. “What the hell are you doing to a bunch of high schoolers?”

“New money.”

“It’s the fucking Hamptons, man. Most of us have money. Who cares where it’s from.”

“These your bitches?” he squares up with Otto who gives him a devilish smirk.

“They’re my sisters.”

“Yeah, you’re a bitch, too.”

“Mr. Baizen,” the owner of the bar, steps beside the two of the men, eyeing up Otto. “Is everything okay?”

“This man has had too much to drink. And he was making advances on a minor.”

“What?”

“She didn’t give you the time of day, and she’s only seventeen, asshole,” with a snap of the owner’s fingers, he apologizes having the gentleman escorted. “Ills, I’ve told you about running that damn mouth of yours.”

“I can’t help it. He started it. Made it out like we just snuck in here. I didn’t even mention that Archie invested in this place.”

“Doesn’t matter. Grab your stuff. We’re going to the house,” Illiana whines at Otto, but Daisy and Iclynn scurry off to the table. “Ills, I’m not playing, and I’m not in the mood.”

“Can we have a drink? Please? Please? Please?”

“Fine, a bottle of wine or something,” he tells her as he pulls her to the table. Giving a quick, sorry to Daisy and Annie. “Wait, have any of you three had a breakup?” Annie snorts, looking between the three of them.

“No.” “Not recently.” “I’m a virgin.”

“Right,” he says, giving an odd look to Daisy. “If you stay in the house, away from water, you can have either a bottle of wine to share or some Ciroc and raspberry lemonade. Not both Illiana or I’m telling dad.”

“Narc, but honestly, thank you for being so generous with our alcohol consumption. Annie joining this time? I mean,” Otto narrows his eyes at her. “We’ve stayed in the room, and you didn’t notice. I stop them before they puke.”

“I stop you, before you make a fool of yourself on the phone,” Illiana shushes Iclynn quickly, giving her brother a sweet smile. Otto knows he’s in over his head with them, but tomorrow his family was arriving. “Can’t take it back, Otts. We’ll be good.”

_______________________________

Annie sits on the couch too close, and not close enough to Otto. The two nursing a beer as they watch some stupid movie and for the first time at ease. Able to hear the triplets giggling loudly on the other end of the house, but they were in their own bubble. Annie didn’t think about Brooks. Just carries on an easy conversation with Otto.

The next morning Carter walks in with Zephyr and slams the door to the house, when he sees Annie and Otto asleep on the couch. Both of them sit up, staring wide eyed at the man. Zephyr gives a quick little chuckle, “You’re in trouble.”

“Zephyr, go help your mother with the girls. Rosie can’t carry her own luggage.”

“Yep.”

“Annie, I need a moment with my son,” Annie had never seen Carter angry before, and it didn't take much for her to run towards the door, “Go get my daughters and Daisy. They can help bring in everything else,” she nods her head, and hopes she can wake them up. “Otto.”

“Not in the mood,” he says, going to stand, and walk towards the back balcony.

“I really don’t give a fuck what you’re in the mood for,” Carter follows right along with Otto, before his son stops. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Dad, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Not what it looks like? It looks like you were sleeping on the couch with a pretty redhead, who just so happens to be your brother’s girlfriend. Otto, we don’t do this. We’re Baizen’s.”

“I’m not,” Carter’s angry stare turns more into a hurt confused look. “I’m not a Baizen. I’m a fucking Barber. Isn’t that what Lydia calls me? This is what I do. I sleep with my brother’s girlfriends. Except we didn’t do anything. She…Brooks hasn’t even talked to her.”

“You are too a Baizen. That’s all you’ve ever been. Because I chose you and you chose me. You don’t remember it, but you reacted to my touch more than your bastard sperm donor ever did. If I ever hear you talk about you not being a Baizen again, I’m cutting you off.”

“I’ve made my own money.”

“Otto, this isn’t you. This insecure person who is doing whatever that is, with his brother’s girlfriend. Brookie looks up to you.”

“And looks down to his girlfriend. God, I know you don’t see it, because he wants to pretend he’s got everything under control, but he’s an ass to her. He expects her to be just like mom, and do everything for him with a smile on her face. The difference is he’s demanding it, and doesn’t treat her with respect. I know not every woman is going to be like mom and do everything for her husband and kids first. But you’ve always respected her, and never expected it. Dad, it’s not fair. He doesn’t love her. I do.”

Carter looks up at his son, looking more like an eighteen-year-old instead of his thirty-year-old self. He’s never been in love, or loved a girl for the past few months. Never had a girl meet the family. Never got personal with them. “This isn’t happening. Her and Brooks need to come to that conclusion. Otto, Baizen’s don’t cheat,” Otto scoffs at him, starting to walk into the house, hearing Rosie giggle, while Veda is begging to be held. “Otto, you put a stop to this. Your brother’s girlfriends are off limits. And if you think your mother won’t notice.”

“I got it. Baizen’s don’t cheat. We’re faithful, honorable. Just remember that.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I’m sure it’ll eventually come out.”

“I’ve never even noticed another woman, besides your mother, since she was seventeen.”

“Not you! God, not everything is about you! Not all of us have this picture perfect life with the woman of our dreams. Just drop it. I’ll stay away from Annie,” spinning on his heel he walks inside to see Audriana squeal at seeing Annie.

“Is he here? Annie, is my Brookie here?”

“No, sweet girl. Maybe we can call him later,” Audriana’s face falls for a moment before Carter comes up behind her, to pick her up, spinning his baby around in a circle. “Mr. Baizen, it’s not what it seems.”

Story looks over at Carter, with a toddler Rosie in her arms, giving him and Annie an questioning look, “I understand. I think you have some things to think about, and process though. How about, the rest of you lot, go get bathing suits on. We’re going on the boat.”

“My king?”

“Story, not now. Go get Veda and Rosie dressed. Zephyr’s going to help me get the boat ready. Arlo, you, too. Don’t go near the girls’ bedroom, just straight out to the boat.”

“Yes, sir,” Arlo says. He walks past Zephyr who gives him a playful smack to the back of the head.

“Baizen, you go easy on that sweet boy. He’s done nothing wrong, but start dating your oldest princess. Come on, Rosie Osie, let's get you and sissy your new bathing suits on.”

“And then, I get to be back with Daddy?”

“Yes, Veda. You’ll get to be with daddy the rest of the day, okay?” Zephyr grabs up his oldest daughter, tossing her in the air, before he peppers kisses all over her. Thanking his mom for getting them dressed. “Maybe daddy can find him a nice girl to bring home.”

“Ma!”

“I’m just saying. I made pretty babies. And not one of you but Brookie has a steady girlfriend.”

“Hey!”

“Baby, I’m sorry,” she walks past Raiden, giving him a sweet little belly rub. “I just like grandbabies, not from you, though. You finish school first. Sorry Birdie,” the sweet girl gives her a smile, but agrees completely. “Come on girlies, let's get dressed, and go on the boat.”

_______________________

Otto sits on the sand, hearing his family giggling and laughing in the pool behind him. This had been a draining day at best. Every part of him had longed to keep touching Annie. He doesn’t want to toot his own horn, but he’s pretty sure she wanted it, too. He looks out to the horizon, wishing he would have grabbed a joint from Zephyr, because he could really use the escape.

He hated this. Hated feeling that he was in a constant losing battle. “Otts,” Zephyr laughs, throwing a plastic shovel at Otto’s back. “I brought the good stuff,” lighting up the joint, he passes it over to Otto for a quick toke. “So, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing, as in a pretty redhead, Otto obsessed with redheads, said redhead is dating baby brother?”

“Nothing,” Otto deadpans, taking another drag.

“You were on the couch sleeping together.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Yeah. My wife had a man sleeping on our couch, too. A few of them actually. Passed out in various rooms of our house, remember that? Remember me finding her passed out in the bathroom, with Rosie crying on the floor? I couldn’t find Veda.”

“This is different. Don’t guilt trip me.”

“It’s different, because you’re not on drugs?” Otto shrugs, unsure where to take this conversation. “Look, you could seriously get any girl.”

“So could you.”

“I’m healing. Gimme that shit,” he grabs the pot from Otto, taking a long puff. “Man, sometimes I just want something to pound into. But I don’t know about relationships,” Otto snorts, looking at his brother. “Yeah, I know. I fall in love fast, and that’s how I ended up with a psycho bitch. Got two of the most beautiful girls in the world though. And Otto who doesn’t date, but is falling for your brother’s girl. You know he’s only dating her because she’s a redhead. He only wants to be just like you.”

“Yep, it’s true,” Archer reaches for the joint, before sitting down. “Raiden won’t be joining us. He’s in training. He doesn’t just know I brought some mushrooms.”

“God, don’t give that giant psychedelics. Who is going to carry him when he’s tripping? Archie don’t! You hit send. Explain that to mom.”

“Explain what to your mother?” Carter asks, sitting down between Zephyr and Archie, his hands already reaching for the joint.

“That Archie brought hallucinogens for Raiden.”

“Hey, I want that guy to have fun. It flushes out of your system. Practice will be a breeze for him. Why is he getting drug tested? He’s not in season. It’s spring,” Zephyr shrugs, while Carter laughs. “Ah! There he comes now. Big guy,” reaching in his pocket, he throws the bag of pills to him. “Arleigh made these last week. You’re good.”

“You’re giving me drugs my future mother-in-law made? This feels wrong. Dad, have you ever taken drugs from Mimi?”

“No. From Papa, yes. Gummies.”

“Papa doesn’t,” Carter nods his head at Archer, who starts laughing. “I want to see Papa high.”

“No. You don’t. Trust me on that. I wish Brooks could be here.”

“Yeah, but he’s working,” Carter shoots a glaring look at Otto, taking another hit from the joint before handing it to Zephyr. “He’s always working.”

“And you’re always here. By the way, I moved into your spacious office. I figured you weren’t coming back. Ow,” Archer grabs his arm, where Otto had elbowed him. “What’s the deal with Brookie? Is he starting a branch or a company? Should have already had that up and running,” Zephyr gives a quick nudge to Otto, shaking his head. “Rai, how many of those did you take?”

“Five. Me big boy. Me handle it fine.”

“You caveman. It’s a wonder how you’ve managed to get Birdie Mae.”

“Because I’m not looking for someone to replace mom? Just a thought. Stop it, or face the wrath of Rai Man,” he gives Archer a karate chop. “There’s only one mom. Dad’s already scored her.”

“Ten times,” all the boys groan, and kick a bit of sand at him. “Easy. Boys, all I have ever wanted is for you to feel fulfilled in your life. Whether it’s alone, with a man or with a woman. Just be fulfilled and happy.”

“And happy!” Zephyr reaches behind him to a cooler, passing everyone a beer, but Raiden. “Sorry, you’re a minor.”

“For like four months. Gimme that.”

____________________________________________

Story stands at the top of the steps watching her boys. Their laughter is carried on the wind, but she never goes to sleep without telling Carter goodnight. Veda and Rosie already asleep in her bed beside Audriana, so she has a small window. She wishes that her itty bitty baby could be here. Misses him more everyday since he doesn’t call.

This is what she had always hoped for. Carter surrounded by his boys, being able to be their friend instead of just their father. And her husband looked so happy. Even with his high as a kite laugh. With a sigh, she picks up her dress, hearing her biggest baby cry in distress.

“Raiden, quit your screaming.”

“It’s no good. Ma!” he gets excited as she walks down to them. Leaning over Carter to give him a kiss. “Mom, I need belly rubs.”

“How is she going to rub your belly with chicken feet for hands?” Zephyr laughs laying back on the sand.

“Mama, why do you have chicken feet on your hands?”

“Oh, good grief,” she says, placing a hand on Raiden’s belly, giving him a little belly rub. “Zephyr Christopher, would you please stop it.”

“That’s not my name.”

“It is now. You want to torture my baby. You get a new name.”

“You called me Zephyr Christopher. I’m Zephyr Anders. Take it back.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t put you boys in timeout anymore, so I call you the wrong name,” she gives Raiden a pat to his belly, and kisses the top of his head. Making her rounds, to kiss all of them good night.”

“I mean, she’s called me Carter James Baizen.”

“You called dad after uncle Jamey,” Zephyr’s eyes completely closes, as he gives his dad a dopey laugh.

“No she didn’t!” Archer squeals.

“I’ve been Otto Steven before.”

“I’m Archer Beck. Caught her calling Brookie, Brooks Buchanan Baizen.”

“Ma! You are over here switching are names passive aggressively. What’s Raiden’s? Go on. Tell us what the baby boy’s name is,” Zephyr asks, still laying back on the sand, his own hands starting to rub his belly.

“I’m Raiden Jensen. Mom? Seriously, what are we gonna do about your hands? My belly still feels funny.”

“Go find Birdie Mae.”

“Oh! Okay. Burd-Dee! I’m coming, baby. No I’m not,” he sits back down, falling back to look up at the moon. “When will it stop?”

“What is he on Baizen?” giving Carter a little tug to his hair, to look up at her. “Baizen?”

“I didn’t do it. That was Archie.”

“He would never.”

“He did, Ma. And Zeph turned you into a chicken.”

“I’m bringing blankets. Baizen, don’t let any of you drown. I’m quite fond of you guys most of the time, but maybe you need to sleep out here.”

“My Queen, I’ll make sure all of us make it up to the house shortly. I’ve spent enough nights away from you. I won’t be spending another. How many are in our bed?”

“The youngest three. Audi is a bit upset that her Brookie isn’t here. Maybe you should call him?” Otto rolls his eyes, before laying into the sand. “He can at least spend a day and a night. Take Annie home with him. It’s out of the way for us. We’ll make sure she gets home, but still.”

“I’ll call him,” she turns to leave, but Carter grabs her hand, “I love you Story Baizen.”

“Love you, too, Sir Lancelot.”

“Eh!”

“I love you Carter Rory Baizen.”

Masterlist

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bizzlepotter · 2 years

Text

NO WAY HOME SPOILERS

no way home spoilers

nO wAY hOMe SpoIlERSsssss

This is actually just me ranting because nobody else has seen the movie, my friends failed to get tickets and now they don't want any spoilers from me until they are able to watch it on Sunday so here I am, because ranting on tumblr is so much cheaper than therapy... which is what I actually need, bro.

I went to the cinema expecting to watch an epic come back and an amazing fight between the S6 and all three Spideys (bc I didn't believe Andrew for a second and I knew he was going to be there... Andrew, you little lying shit, I love you so much and I've missed you) but after the first ten minutes or so I knew this was going to be way darker and deeper that I've had anticipated.

I always said there was no way any other movie could compare to Endgame in the epic department because what could top every single avenger in the same movie? Cap lifting Jonathan? Tony Stark making the ultimate sacrifice? I still cry and mourn to this day. But this movie? I'm surprised but at the same time i'm not? Because I knew Marvel could always aspire to outshine itself movie after movie and they did exactly that in this one.

Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield and Tom Holland's Spidermans all in the same movie? They ended Tobey's universe because they wanted a fresh start (I think), Andrew's because the critics hated him and "wasn't popular", and Tom's because they really really wanted a Spiderman in the MCU that they agreed to literally hold no profit from him (I honestly don't understand that agreement between Sony and Disney and don't try to explain it to me, my brain can't do the thinking thing rn)

And they put THEM ALL TOGETHER, like it was a fkn family reunion, a sad, depressive family reunion, just to make us all go mad. The whole movie theater was in chaos, you could hear the screams from outside the building, not because they had failed to soundproof it, no, it was because every single people inside was screaming, over 500 people, at the same time. Every 5 minutes there was something wild to roar about.

Tobey and Andrew coming out of the portals. That hilarious "you want me to crawl? Isn't fhis enough? I'm sticking to the ceili... please, stop throwing bread at me". Tobey "innocent baby" Maguire smiling and waving. The lab scene with the webshooters and the "I'm sorry, did that just come out of you?". The "I lost someone too. Gwen, my... My MJ" (oh god, the EMOTIONS).

TOBEY TELLING ANDREW HE IS AMAZING, NOT WILLING TO HEAR ANY KIND OF CRITICISM OR ARGUMENT ABOUT IT "NO, YOU ARE AMAZING AND AWESOME AND I LOVE YOU... I KNOW YOU NEED TO HEAR THAT BECAUSE I'M YOU, SO YEAH, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, MY AMAZING LITTLE SPIDER, LOVE YOURSELF"

The fact that Andrew's Spidey knew deep down he wasn't the favorite (don't know what that means, he is my #1, I've never stopped loving him), the little grunt when the Lizard (I think it was the Lizard or maybe Electro, idk, I was screaming) told him he wasn't the biggest sh*it anymore because he kneeew, he knew the public's opinion about him (again, my favorite Spidey, he deserved so much better), even after Tobey told him he was the shiniest star out there.

Tobey and Ock reunited once again, you could see in Peter's eyes how much he had missed Otto, or at least was relieved to see him well and alive once again. "You are all grown up now, my dear boy", yeah, I needed that.

Andrew. Catching. MJ.

And at the verge of tears while holding her in his arms. I know he has never stop thinking about Gwen's death, how much he had wish to go back in time and do something different so he could save her. And when he saw MJ falling and Peter1 getting railed by the board, his brain just clicked "notagainnotagainnotagainnotagain never again". The relieve in his eyes, he finally caught her, he had been waiting for that moment for years, had gone bitter and furious for far too long and he finally got to catch Gwen, not his Gwen but he caught her. At last.

That scene. D*amn. I knew it was coming, it wasn't a spoiler, I just knew because if Andrew was there, and MJ was falling, I knew he would catch her.

Tom going wild on the Green Goblin and lifting the board, ready to finish that man without a second thought for what he did to May (we are never going to talk about that scene in the lobby. EVER. IT DID NOT HAPPEN. MAY JUST WENT ON VACATION TO ROME) and Tobey having flashbacks and stepping in to stop Tom, not willing to let this kid version of him make any mistakes, he somehow saw what would've happened if Peter succedded on sending Norman to the great beyond. Peter Parker would have gone totally mad, Spiderman be d*amned. He knew that wasn't him. So he stepped in, no words needed, just "look at me, that's enough, you are not this, you'll never be this" and it was so powerful, once again reminding us that every Peter had gone through stuff, you can tell Tobey and Andrew still were going through stuff, would have loved to see more of that but time was against us.

Everyone forgetting Peter... that hit hard, that hurt so much, he is utterly alone, no one knows him, no one remember his name, what he had done, what he was, what he had been through, he is all alone, dealing with May's death by himself. At least if May had been alive and she had forgotten about him, Peter would have been fine with that because that meant she was safe...but no. He is grieving yet again, but this time, not just May's demise, but for every single person who knew him and loved him and he loved back.

But hey, Spidey finally is Spidey, like, himself. No AI, no multi-billion suit, no back-up killing drones, nanobites, anything, just Peter Parker, off to dealing with low life criminals and helping grannies cross the street. And I love it so much.

Peter is the next Tony Stark, he is, Tony chose him but not to follow his steps, nonono, he is the next big superhero who would give his life to save the world, who would sacrifice everything for the greater good, he now is that man. He grew up, he is now the man Tony knew he would be, choosing to do the right thing the right way instead of the convenient way.

We will see more of Spiderman in the MCU, I'll not have it any different, we know Tom just got a renewal, he is due to be in more MCU movies and I can't wait to see him... now that part of Venom is lost in a new universe (Sony and T. Hardy literally put a gun to Disney's head and said "we want gay, Disney, and I have this bi himbo disaster and his slimy very gay extraterrestrial boyfriend and they are showing their love and gayness in this movie wether you like it or not"), we need to see Venom totally freaking out and looking for his Eddie but finding a depressed spider instead (totally making that up, it would probably be one of his babies, kinda like Carnage, who knows)

I have more tickets to watch this movie today, tomorrow and Sunday so I can cry and scream all over again. Thank you past me, who knew me so well to buy more than one ticket because I knew one wasn't going to be enough for my sanity.

#spider man #spiderman no way home #no way home #spoilers #no way home spoilers #spiderman spoilers #spiderman no way home spoilers #nwh #tom holland #andrew garfield #tobey maguire #multiverse #sorry about the rant

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renthebarbarian · 2 years

Note

Norman is very insistent that Otto keeps a list of things he needs for his experiments. OTTO: Norman, it isn’t necessary that you — // NORMAN: Ugh!! Let me buy things for you!! Why can’t you just let me spoil you, huh?! You deserve to be spoilt, okay?! So stop being stubborn and give me a list of everything you need! And everything you want!! // OTTO: Darling — // NORMAN: Don’t you dare think you can sweet talk your way out of this, honey! I left a pad of paper on your desk, and by the time I get back, there better be a list on it, do you understand? At least ten items! You’re gonna be a good scientist and let me provide for you! [kisses Otto’s cheek, suddenly calm] You work on your list, okay, baby? I’ll go make us some tea.

Otto: Okay, you win, I made my list. But darling...promise me you're not buying me all these things because you think you have to earn my love or some silly nonsense, right?

Norman: I...uh...of course not!

Otto: Norman.

Norman: [sighs] Sorry. Sometimes I just don't understand how I got lucky enough to have you.

Otto: You mean you don't know how much I adore you? Well...we're going to have to fix that. Come here. I'm going to show you just how much you mean to me. [picks him up, kisses him, and carries him into the bedroom]

...and then he proceeds to tell him everything he loves about him, his brain, his wicked sense of humor, how strong he's been throughout his life, how generous he is, and of course all the dirty stuff too.

Otto: (a while later) Need any more convincing?

Norman: (extremely happy) Okay, okay, I get it. I'm not going to stop treating you though, because what good is having money if I can't spoil the people I love?

Otto: I'd expect nothing less, my love.

#octogoblin

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artnigth · 3 years

Text

Migraines Part 2

i made it!! Part 3 tomorrow BABY!! (probably)

MIGRAINES PART 2: Raz was walking all the way back to the Questionable Area, more specifically his family’s camp in the campgrounds. It had been a long day, he agreed to cover Gisu’s afternoon shift since she apparently had an “appointment” or something. Norma and Lizzie kept pestering him to see if Gisu actually had a date of sorts, but he knew as much as they did on that topic so that fun little conversation went nowhere. He was finally able to go home and take a nap, he was ten after all (and very tired). “RAZPUTIN!” A scream coming from above breaking his line of thought. Raising his gaze, Raz saw just as Ford Cruller flew to the spot in front of him. The senior Psyconaut might have been very old, but after Raz had fixed his mind it seemed that the senior was back in his prime. “Your brother needs help.”- the tone of Cruller's voice was concerned but not surprised, neither was Raz. “What are you talking about?” “Your brother is lost in the forest and- “QUEEPIE GOT LOST IN THE FORGETFUL FOREST?!” “Your other brother Razputin. Dion, was it? He got lost in the forest and is having a Psychic overload.”- Ford’s tone was calm but a little tired. “Dion? Having a Psychic overload? No offense agent Cruller but Dion isn’t a Psychic. But I do believe he could have gotten lost in the forgetful forest. Let’s go tell my family to go and search for him.” Both of the Psychonauts ran all the way to the Aquato camp, encountering Agustus at the entrance. “Dad! Dion got lost on the Forgetful Forest, we need to go look for him!”- Raz was tired, his tone was halfhearted and kind of over the whole situation. Agustus’ eyes were wide, he stepped back a little at the sight of Ford Cruller. Ford stayed back for Agustus’ sake, he was clearly not over what had happened and Ford couldn’t blame him at all. “How did Dion get lost in the woods?”- Agustus decided to ignore Ford’s presence focusing on his middle son and the dilemma that had been put into focus. “So that’s where that boy is… His friend came here a couple of hours ago and both her, Frazie and your mother have been looking for him since.”- Agustus sounded tense, but neither of the Psychonauts minded. “Friend? Dion has friends?”- Raz was a little surprised but not too much. “Yeah, that was Frazie’s reaction as well. Let me call them, I’m pretty sure they’re gonna be happy to finally find out where he is.” . “HE WHAT?!”- Donatella did NOT sound happy about finding out where her oldest son had been all this time, scaring her children and husband even if just a little. Frazie, Donatella, Raz, Agustus, and Ford were now standing at the entrance of the Forgetful Forest, with Dion’s “friend” not being there yet. “UNBELIEVABLE. I THOUGHT WE HAD TAUGHT THAT BOY BETTER THAN TO GO INTO THE WOODS ALONE! IF YOU FOUND HIM WHY DIDN’T YOU DRAG HIM BACK, FORD?!”- Donatella kept rambling for a while her temper getting worse with each word. “That’s what I’m trying to explain, Dion seems to be having some sort of Psychic overload. His abilities being so overwhelming to his mind that he can’t control what he does. I had similar experiences when I was a young Psychic, everything was to much to deal with.”- Ford was still standing at a distance from the family, his voice calm but still concerned. “FRAZIE!! DID YOU FIND HIM?!”- a voice was heard from high into the sky. A figure suddenly falling from the sky on a skateboard and landing between Ford and the Aquatos. It was Gisu on top of her skateboard, who stepped off to be at the same level as everyone else. “Gisu?! Aren’t you supposed to be at an appointment??”- Razputin sounded ofended and blindsided. “Appoinment? I never said that.”- Gisu was clearly confused on that topic. “Adam said you had an appointment and that he needed someone to cover your shift, were you here all the time?” “Yeah… I just told Adam I was leaving early, I never said anything about an appointment.” “But… But… You know what, nevermind.”- Raz sounded defeated, Norma and Lizzie were right, and he hated to admit it. And a possible date with his brother out of all people, ugh. “So… did you found Dion, it’s been hours…” “Agent Ford did, Dion’s apparently having a psychic overload in the forest. So we are going to start a search party into the forest.”- Frazie’s tone was her typical sarcastic annoyance but concern was still heard as a shadow in her voice. “Ok, I’ll go high to try and spot him from above.”- Gisu sounded a little desperate to find Dion clearly concerned. But she was still her determined and confident self. She stepped on her skateboard and suddenly she was gone, flying into the sky. The rest of the Aquatos, and Ford separated into the forest to look for Dion. Raz and Ford went north, meanwhile, Donatella and Agustus went east, Frazie stayed back to look after the kids and just in case Dion found a way back to the camp. . . . . .

Gisu was hovering above the Forgetful Forest scanning the area below as well as she could. She was looking for that dorky acrobat that she had gotten to know for the past two months, wondering how could he had managed to hide this type of issue long enough to have such a breakdown. Throwing agent Ford from the middle of the woods all the way to the campgrounds wasn’t a small action, levitating someone that far was impressive for someone who has repressed their powers for as long as Dion has. Her thoughts were interrupted when she got close to losing her balance and falling. A force trying to push her away from an exact spot in the forest, a small clear in the forest where there was a boulder. Trees were being pushed so hard away from that spot that some were being uprooted from the ground. Carefully Gisu did her best to go as close as she could in her skateboard, eventually she had to descend to the ground since she couldn’t move forward anymore. Gisu moved forward slowly, every step felt like if she was pushing a boulder that was getting heavier and heavier with each step. By the time Gisu had gotten to the boundaries of the clear, she had to hold on to a tree or else she would have been thrown away. Looking at the boulder she could see a familiar figure sitting in front of it, with his knees covering his face and his hair being an unrecognizable mess. There was Dion, shaking and sobbing in front of that boulder. Gisu was stunned. What happened to him?! Is he okay?! “Dion?!”- Gisu’s voice echoed through clear, her tone concerned. “GO AWAY!”- Dion’s voice roared into Gisu’s ears, almost deafening the girl. “You need to calm down, you’re destroying the forest!” “GISU YOU NEED TO LEAVE, I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU!”- misery emanated from the boy, in all of his seventeen years of life nothing like this had happened to him. He was terrified of himself and very much lost in his own despair. Gisu stabbed the ground with her skateboard, propelling herself forward and using said skateboard as a cane in order to get the closest she could to him. Using her own telepathy she tried her best to counter the force of Dion’s own psychic energy. The closer she got, the stronger Dion’s energy became, it was crazy and she didn’t know how to handle it. “GISU LEAVE!” She kept walking onward taking no mind of Dion’s words, just a few more steps and she would reach him, but it felt as if he were miles away. “GISU, STOP!” Her strength wavered, all of his force suddenly focused on her alone. His mind was tormented by screams, guilt invaded his body. HE had thrown Ford Cruller into the sky. HE levitated an old man and threw him to oblivion. HE had killed Ford Cruller, all because of… because… “DION PLEASE LET ME HELP! I’VE SEEN THIS HAPPEN A MILLION TIMES BEFORE. YOU JUST NEED TO CALM DOWN AND BREATH!”- Her cries resonated through the clear, her skateboard started to crack under pressure, she needed to act as fast as she could. She increased the energy she was putting into protecting herself and she kept moving forward. Dion felt hopeless, he needed to get Gisu away or he would hurt her like he hurt Ford. “GISU, PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU TOO!” The whispers in his mind were long gone, replaced by screams of fury, guilt and fear. This time he knew all those voices were just him. HE was tormenting himself for what he had done, screaming into his mind until he broke and finally exploded. HE thought it was fair, he deserved to end like this. Not just for what he did to Ford but for how he treated Raz, how he annoyed Gisu with his stupid questions about psychics, how he treated the people around him, how he was bound to explode and no one, not even himself, could stop it from happening. But at least he would make sure to not take anyone down with him. Suddenly a soft sensation was felt on his shoulders, like a thin blanket. Dion looked up from his knees and there she was. Gisu holding on to her skateboard, her knuckles white from the effort. Her hair waving as if a storm was hitting her directly on her face. A soft smirk planted on her face. Her scarf missing from her shoulders and gently placed on his. Tears began to run down from his eyes, all the way to his chin. The pressure stopped, the screams wavered turning back into whispers and the world finally stopped spinning. Gisu took his hands and gently lifted them both to stand. Her hands were rough and cold from all of her mechanical projects with Otto, but for Dion they felt like a safe place, something he hadn’t felt from anyone ever since he was a child. “Let’s go back to the campgrounds your family is looking for you and it's getting dark.”- her voice was soft, a hint of relief on her tone. Dion nodded. They started walking out of the clear and reentering the forest. They had a long way back and Gisu knew it was better to hold her breath since the Aquato family were definitely going to have a rough night. END OF PART 2.

PART 1:

#dion aquato #headcanon: psychic dion #psychonauts #psychonauts2 #psychonauts gisu #psychonauts razputin #razputin aquato #ford cruller

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topazy · 3 years

Text

Under my skin

Pairings: Troy Otto x OC

Warnings: None

Chapter: 1.06

Wylie

I watched as Troy rushed to separate the fight that was taking place. On closer inspection, I could see Leo was beating up Jake. I was surprised that others hadn't intervened before.

Troy pulled Leo off his brother with ease. “What the hell is going on?”

Neither Jake nor Leo answered.

Jake fixed his shirt and rubbed the blood off his nose. “I’ll see you up at the house later.”

I felt guilty, like I should have done something to help Jake. He had been a good ally to me since I’d arrived at the ranch, and I now considered him a friend. I was so busy watching Jake that I nearly missed Leo trying to square up to Troy, which was a big mistake on his part.

Two other guys tried to talk him out of it.

“Come on, man, this isn’t worth it.”

“This is crossing a line, Leo. Back down now.”

“Troy will beat your ass. Walk away while you still can.”

Surprisingly, Troy wasn’t taking the bait. I couldn’t hear everything Leo was saying to him, but I heard the mention of Jake and Jeremiah's names. Troy stood firmly while Leo got closer to his face.

I glanced between both Otto brothers. I took in their situations. Troy was now standing with a smug look on his face, and his brother was a good distance away from the madness. After a moment of pondering what to do, I decided to go after Jake, so he wasn’t alone. As I started to walk away, I heard a yelping noise. I quickly turned around to see Leo clutching at his face as another guy had his hand on Troy’s chest trying to calm him down.

When the prick stepped back, I was able to see his nose and how fucked up it looked. Good. He deserved it.

I glanced over at Troy, who was already staring at me; he gave me a slight nod. Taking it as a go ahead, I made my way towards their house.

—

I knocked on the front door and entered after hearing a muffled ‘come in’ from Jake. “Hey, how are you?”

He was sitting at the kitchen table with a cold cloth on his mouth. Jake's lip bled so much, Leo must have gotten at least one good punch in. I imagined his father would be furious when he found out what had happened.

“I’m okay.” Jake said, removing the cloth, allowing me to see how swollen his face was becoming. “Did you get all the stuff you needed?”

“Yeah, I did.” I took notice of a family photo that hung next to the window. It was strange to think of the ranch as an actual home before the apocalypse. “You look like your mom.”

Jake’s face lit up at the comment. He smiled at the picture fondly before shaking his head. “Yeah, back when the world was sane. Do you have any pictures of your family?”

I nodded. “I had a few in my bag when... this all started. My sister had just gotten a Polaroid camera, so we took some ‘practice’ pictures about a week before.”

“Yeah, Troy mentioned he’d seen you looking at some photos a few times.” Jake gave me a knowing look before continuing. “What are the photos of?”

I let out a soft chuckle, remembering the exact moments I took the treasured photographs. “One of them is my mom. She was so pissed off when I took it. My sister Libby dyed her hair at home and stained the good bath towels. The picture is of my mom discovering it. I have one of me and my two friends, Ellie and Malia’s matching love heart ankle tattoos, and the last one is of my dad's tragic tattoo.”

“What did he get?”

I rolled my eyes at the memory of Wiley Woo.

A look of amusement spread across Jake's face. “Sorry? He got what?”

“My dad got Liberty on the back of his left elbow, and Wiley Woo on his upper arm. It’s what they called me when I was a baby.”

A stumbling sound came from another room in the house, causing Jake to suddenly appear uncomfortable. “Um..thanks for coming to check on me, but I better get ready for my shift tonight.”

“Yeah, of course.” I nodded, smiling, “Have a good shift, and hopefully it stops bleeding soon.”

—

My mind was so occupied, I wasn't even paying attention to anything going on around me. My thoughts were running elsewhere when I felt something brush against my arm.

“Hey.”

I had a warm feeling flush over me as Troy settled into the chair next to me. My cheeks burned, “hi.”

Even though it was dark and the only light was off from the fire pit in front of me, I could still see the bandage wrapped around Troy’s knuckles. I automatically placed my hand on his to get a better look.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, realizing I’d probably crossed a line.

Troy said nothing but kept his hand where it was. I gulped down before continuing to look at it while he stared at me curiously. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see others giving us stage looks.

“Why are they staring at us?” I asked in a low voice.

A wicked smile spread across Troy’s face as he leaned in closer to me. “Because I shot the last person who grabbed my hand like that.” My eyes widened with shock, I struggled to find a way to reply when he laughed. “It’s a joke, Wylie. Relax, I’m not that crazy.”

I let out a nervous laugh before letting go of his hand. We sat in comfortable silence, watching the surrounding people. Another family had suggested having a small bonfire as it would be good for morale, but so far the only individuals who seemed to be really enjoying it were the kids.

I was actually jealous of their childlike wonder, not afraid of what was lurking outside the ranch.

The sound of Troy clearing his throat distracted me from my own thoughts. “Thanks for going and checking on my brother.”

“It wasn’t a problem.” I shrugged, “We are friends, so I don’t mind.”

“Are we friends?”

The look Troy was giving me was making my heart race. I couldn’t help but smile back. He was so arrogant at times, but still attractive as hell. How was that even possible?

“We can be friends if you want.” I quipped back before standing up. “I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Wylie.”

#Troy Otto #fear the walking dead #troy otto/oc #Troy Otto x oc #slow burn #slow romance #troy otto imagine #fear the walking dead image #fear the walking dead fanfict #fear the walking dead fandom

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