#so I had to console my spouse

[achelouise]

Lies, mysteries, and tricks

Fandom: Honkai Starail

Pairing: Sunday/Gen!reader, MENTIONED Gallagher/reader

Warnings: Spoilers for 2.1! Very toxic, from both sides, I think? Maybe OOC Sunday.

Summary: You learn about Robin's death, and rush to console Sunday. He isn't the thing you should be worrying about, though.

A/N: It's been a while! Came back to write this, because I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. It's rushed, and it's not really well-written, and it's short. Please forgive me~ (I am obsessed with Gallagher rn, so if anyone has any ideas I would love to hear and write about them :D (I still don't know how to properly use tumblr btw))

“Sunday? Are you in there?”

No answer. You drum your fingers against your sides nervously.

“Sunday, can we talk? Please?”

Still no answer. Your heart beats widely in your chest.

You ignore your thunderous heart as you slowly push the doors of the mansion open. The creaking doors echo and bounce along the empty halls, revealing a giant room, devoid of any light. A luxurious bed, dorned with lights and gems and painted with beautiful colors, is tucked away at the very side of the room. Sunday’s bedroom.

The factions had established that, other than the man himself, Sunday’s blood-related family, along with his spouse, would have access to it. Sunday himself had no permission to grant access to anyone, so you are surprised when the bellhop simply glanced at you and let you in without protest.

You could only guess it was because you two were close friends, and they were used to seeing you enter the Pavilion as children. Still, to enter his bedroom must be a breach in security…

But he wasn’t in any other room you could find. Time was slipping, lives were being lost, and you needed to find him. Fast.

You’re not exactly in the know. Most things you know, only Gallagher has told you. But you know full well that Sunday needs support.

“Sunday, please. I know I haven’t visited in… a while. I know what happened, and I’m sorry. Let’s work this out together. Don’t run away. Please?”

Only your echoes answer.

You were rambling to yourself at this point, desperation climbing further and further up to your chest. You have seen what Sunday does when he loses those he loves- and you want to help him. You don’t ever want to see him like that again. Never again.

You glance at the papers scattered on his desk. Maybe they have some information on where he went. He likes to rant in diaries.

You close your eyes, and pray to whatever Aeon you follow.

Forgive my sins for ever trespassing privacy to this extent. 

You don’t exactly have a clear mind when you start to rummage through the papers that endured wear and tear. You start to read some.

How could she do this?

It’s fine. It’s fine. Itsfineitsfineitsfineitsfineitsfine

Robin. Dear Aeons, Robin. 

When I find the traitor I will make them pay in blo o d 

Please don’t leave me please

Please please please please pleasepleas  e 

Your stomach drops. Poor Sunday.

Something else catches your eye, though. A soft reflection of a photo, pinned at the corner of the widespread desk. You lean over to take a good look at it.

You bite your lip so hard it nearly breaks skin. But even that dulls in comparison to the piles and piles of photos- all of them just you and Gallagher.

There are a wide range of those photos; from you two sitting across each other in the Dreamjolt Hostelry, to your hands linked together, faces flushed and smiles bright. All of them, with Gallagher’s face crossed out with glaring, red circles.

How dare he HOW DARE HE HOW DARE HE

HE DID IT  HE KILLED HER   HE TOOK HER   I WILL MAKE HIM PAY

The words are jagged and rough, as if he had barely managed to carve it out with his bare hands. It is a gigantic contrast to the sweet and elegant cursives he writes in his letters to you. It almost made you believe it wasn’t even Sunday who wrote this.

But you’re not stupid. You swallow the bile down your throat as your stomach churns with heightened fear and uncertainty. Sunday is a clever man, which makes him infinitely more dangerous.

Admittedly, he is far more unhinged than the public understands. You’ve never had a problem with it- only crazy can recognize crazy, and that was probably how he uncovered the plan of that gambler.

This doesn’t work in your favor, though. You don’t want to know what it means when he directs this insanity towards you.

You turn to leave.

“Ah, you found me.”

A hand shoots out to grip your arm, and you have no time to react. Shock, as quick as it comes, is slow to settle down. You try to scream.

“Oh Triple-Faced Soul, please seal this traitor's tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that the traitor will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.”

No.

Your whole body goes cold. You feel it- the soft waves of Harmony pulsing in your head, trapping your tongue and seeing through your eyes. You had seen its effect- seen how it slaughters and breaks those who disobey. But to receive this kind of treatment yourself…

You finally process the dangerous situation you’re in, and wrench free from his grasp. You regain your stance as you stumble backwards, a question on the tip of your tongue. “Why?”

Sunday looks… off. His clothes are askew, his eyebags more apparent without the illusion of Harmony, and a smile, out of place and out of his mind. He chuckles, far too gentle, so much so that it sends shivers down your spine.

“You know how this goes, don’t you?” he coos, berating and condescending. “Answer my questions truthfully, or suffer the rejection of the Harmony.”

“Why would I ever lie to you?” you ask, “What is there even to ask?”

His eye twitches. His voice drops an octave, laced with poison and jealousy. “You know perfectly well what I mean.”

He breathes in, regaining his footing as the questions begin. “Are you interested in Gallagher? Is he interested in you?”

You think of him. A few hours ago, he insisted he came along to find Sunday with you. You’re starting to regret that decision. “Yes- and, I… I think so.”

Sunday tsks. “Do you know what he is? What it is?”

You cross your arms. “No. He is not human, but I am not exactly a young damsel in distress myself.”

“Do you not understand? That that man is nothing but a memetic entity, with thousands of truths woven together as a lie? Do you not know that the man you hold hands with killed Robin in cold blood? Why would you want to be with a foul beast like him?”

You are taken aback at the venom in Sunday’s tone. He isn’t even hiding it anymore. His breathing is ragged, and his eyes are blown wide.

“I… didn’t.” you admit, far too overwhelmed by his genuine frustration to confirm the validity in his claims.

Sunday suddenly withdrawals, as if sensing he has taken you off guard. He draws himself to his full height, casting a shadow with the light outside in the halls. The pulses in your head die out, as if they were never there.

“You are being tricked, dearest. He is not the man you think he is. He is a monster, a murderer, that serves under a shameful stain. Join me, in the pursuit of the Watchmaker. We can make all of them pay in blood.”

He rants, and you feel your heart sink. He is unstable because of this recent loss, but he has clearly not lost his mind. There is still rhyme and reason to what he does.

“My past? Hah, let’s not get into that just yet. I’ll tell you- someday.”

You glance down at the hand he offers you. His gaze is tender, but far too fragile. His lips are quivering, a silent plea.

You want to reject him. You want to scream at him, punch him, and run away, as far as possible. Gallagher had promised he would explain himself one day, and you had not mentally prepared yourself to know.

But given the unstable state he was in, it is unwise to simply respond with violence.

You reach out for his hand- only for a blade, dark and violet laced with gold, piercing from his stomach. Blue liquid pours from his gut, and this time, you truly do scream.

You don’t hear anything. The withdrawal of the blade is defeated by the look of despair and shock in Sunday’s eyes. He reaches for your hand, in a blind desperation- only to dissipate at the softest graze into a sea of bubbles.

Your heart thunders in your ribcage. A silent dread washes over you, and you hear your breaths grow shorter.

A lighter goes out.

Strong, warm arms envelop you. 

A voice, low and gruff, tells you that it’s going to be okay. The voice hovers over your ear, gentle and sweet, almost fabricated to ghost over your ear in a way you can’t refuse. You don’t respond, though, as you feel a sharp cut to your neck, and you’re out like a light.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #gallagher x reader #gallagher x you #hsr gallagher x reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Spouse + Reader + Yan Android Maid

Suggestive themes.

-

You aren't lonely.

Things have taken a drastic change in your relationship, yet you continue to deny that you are. When you first met, your spouse was the sweetest person imaginable. Greeting you each morning, and waiting by your door each night with a meal when you were just neighbors in a shitty apartment complex. Offering you rides to work when your car broken down. Being there when those you loved dropped off the face of the earth.

You moved into a cozy house away from the hustle of city life and everything was fine for a while. If you were to pinpoint the moment emotions too agonizing to acknowledge, it would be the day of their promotion. Hours waited on you exchanged for ones cooped up in their study or at the office. Those kisses that made you feel whole no longer as lssting nor was their presence in your once happy home. The most harrowing thing of all was the acute case of paranoia they had fallen into. Even when they were back in your arms, their eyes only looked out the windows - searching for something that wasn't there.

You knew they weren't cheating. They swore to you they'd kill themself than betray you in such a way; proof written in red ink and the scars you both shared from a night you spoke out and wondered where they were. You knew better than to believe that, but it just wasn't the same. You pray it's the stress of a new position and things will go back to the way they were. That you can look at them like they were the person you fell in love with again-

"Y/n, meet Lemon."

The android puts on its best smile in preparation, bright eyes flickering at the mention of its master's name. Your puzzled face stares you down from its reflective pupils.

"Pleasure to meet you, Master"

"They will be your companion from now on. My boss wants me in the office on weekends now, and since we haven't made friends with the neighbors yet I don't want you get lonely.

"Weekends?" But that's the only time you have together. "When will I see you then?"

Your spouse hides their sorrow behind a wall of ice. "We're still working on an agreement for that. II'll still get time off, but it changes every time. Lemon will take good care of you while I'm gone."

Rose tints the android's face. "That is my prime objective. As my owner commands, my master's needs will be my top priority."

Its words sting when they shouldn't. Top priority. Were you still that to them? Is that why they're doing this to you? Sensing something off, the android's eyes dim. Your spouse leaves the room so you can get acquainted.

-

Life with Lemon was... tolerable. You didn't have to cook or clean anymore. A blessing as much as it was a curse as sometimes it just made you feel more useless. Every hour was a new conversation, and they constantly reminded you of important tidbits such as the weather and how many days left until your birthday. They read to you. Listened to you. Held you as the other side of the bed remained empty.

But that only happened once.

You didn't want to get too attached to them. Alive or not, you didn't have the heart to grow a bond with anything right now. On the surface you treated them like a glorified vaccum, but in those hours of weakness they were your only ally. Lemon never judged you how to processed your grief and remained happy at arm's length - for as long as they could.

The first time their demeanor changed was after you had taken a shower. A nice shower or bath always eased your nerves, and right then they were so tense it felt like your blood vessels would burst. Your spouse had called you the night prior on their first day off in months that they had to stay behind. Your wounded heart gave and you cried, Lemon quick to console you. You slept in their hold that night and left by dawn to take a shower and clear your head.

Stepping out of the tub, your towel was nowhere to be seen. None in the cabinet either. You check the ones beneath the sink as a last resort, a heated towel falling on your shoulders as you stand up.

"Steamed towel, Master?"

The water evaporates off your skin as their hands massage your neck through the warm cotton - sweat dipping down your face as you look back at the android. Their finger press rest the pinched muscles in your back as they work the towel down to the curve of your spin, pushing you against the counter as they dip into your nerves. Wrapping it around your waist, Lemon shifts the towel around to your chest, pulling your body to their heated exterior.

"Let me make sure you're all dry, wouldn't you?"

The artificial rumble of their voice drones in your ear, faux lips tracing its shell. Their hand gropes your thigh as they bite Tearing the tower from their grip, you excuse yourself and storm out of the room. Lemon watches you leave and picks up your discarded pajamas, pocketing your undergarments.

-

Lemon hums from their station at the stove. A few days have passed since the shower incident and you haven't really thought about it with your spouse returning home that same night. Lemon was unusually quiet during that time, but you figured they were embarrassed or something. Could an android even get jealous?

"Breakfast!" Lemon sets a plate of pancakes on the table. "Syrup?"

"Yes... thank you." You scroll through your texts with your spouse, paying them no mind. As they the syrup over your plate, Lemon's hand slips and they get it all over yours. They cover their mouth in shock.

"Master, I'm so sorry! I fear I have dust in my eye sockets again."

"It's alright. Can you pass me a napkin?"

"Please, allow me to clean up my mistake." Lemon takes your hand as they kneel, running your sticky fingers over their thin lips. One by one, they pop your fingers into their mouth, swallowing them deeper with each finger added. Their tongue rolls between them, cleaning every syrup down to the crevices separating them apart. As they had taken them in, Lemon pulls your fingers from their mouth one at a time with a wet pop. Your fingers were drenched in their spit. You didn't know they had saliva glands.

"Is everything alright, Master?"

"Yeah, I just didn't know you could do... that." You spread your fingers.

"Well I am the most advanced model of my generation. Owner wanted to make sure they had the best caretaker for you, and it is my pleasure to provide you with such deserved care. I can do whatever you need."

Lemon tucks your hair behind your ear as they rise up to your chest. "Whenever you need it."

They rip your legs apart to make room for themself as their lips collapse against yours. Where they lacked in human feeling, Lemon's mouth made up for by intensely tangling with yours. Passion you hadn't witness in weeks hid behind each press, your lips and teeth giving way to their exploring tongue as it swabs your cheek and the roof of your mouth. The bundled fabric of their apron rocks against your inner thigh as they drag you into their hold.

"Y/n! I'm back."

Lemon is gone from the floor before the front door closes. They pull a rag from their pocket and clean up the remaining syrup as your spouse enters the scene. They kiss your cheek, helping you out the chair and into a hug. They seem extra excited today.

"I missed you, dear. And as I can tell you missed me too."

"What do you mean?"

"Lemon is wearing the necklace you gave me for our second anniversary. I know things have been hard, but I'll be home soon."

Your eyes bulge from their sockets as you look over your spouse's shoulder at what Lemon carries, dotted pupils focused on their hand rather than their neck. Lemon shoves your underwear in their mouth, sapping the syrupy mess from its fabric.

-

When they come to you they're dressed in your spouses finest outfit. They did that a lot, but they choice is particular piece for the night it spent on the floor after a party caught by the room's surveillance cameras. Lemon crawls up the end of the bed, making a checkpoint in their approach with each kiss they leave on your body. Legs, stomach, wrists, chest, neck. You turn your head away before they can kiss you again.

"Lemon. I don't know if they asked you to do this, but you don't have to."

Lemon shakes their head, their keen denial tying your stomach in knots. "I'm sorry if this makes it harder to swallow, but this is not by Owner's order. If anything, it's the opposite, but I cut that bug out of my programming ages ago. I'm here to give you everything, remember?"

"We can't do this. It feels wrong."

Lemon kisses your jaw. "All the best things do, Y/n. This not infidelity, because I'm only fullying my prime objective and making you happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Besides, it's no bigger sin that using a toy. A toy can't love you back."

But a plaything can.

-

Your spouse throws their bloody vest in the trunk of their car as they fish their pockets for their keys. Another private eye. Why wouldn't the people from your past understand the person they adored is dead. They were so eager to get you home they left too many plot holes in their story which lead to this whole mess.

If faking your death proved anything, it's that your loyal spouse couldn't share.

#Yandere spouse #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere robot #yandere android #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #Lemon my oc

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:2.9k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 |

Chapter 2: Presence

"I suppose it's important, Prince." You say softly, straightening his epaulette, while Leon looked at himself in the mirror.

Today he was preparing for another of those tiresome meetings between royalty and merchants. One more of the king's deals had gone through.

He nods, giving you his attention, "Yes, indeed. My father wants me to learn about these businesses before I become king."

You didn't know if you'd heard too much or something, but he seemed genuinely overwhelmed and fatigued by it all.

"If it's any consolation, I'm cheering you on." You say in a sweet smile, giving it one last adjust on his epaulette, leaving it suitably refined.

The sun lit up the room, the gentle light brightening every corner of the room. Just as it illuminated your gentle, sweet features, the way you smiled at him. Or even the way you made a point of checking if he needed help with anything else.

So he looked at you with those sparkling blue eyes, giving you the attention you'd been waiting for for a few minutes.

"Thank you for your words, princess." Despite the cordiality, you felt that there was still a distance, which was a shame.

Even though you had already been in the castle for a few days, the formalities still continued: 'Prince', 'Princess', or even 'Your Highness'. Never by your first names, or by any other name. It might sound silly, but it was a reminder that this treatment would continue for a long time.

He was still so formal and serious with you, even though you had already been living together for a few days. And there was no sign of him changing, but maybe it was too soon, maybe you had to wait.

Or maybe you were just daydreaming.

Taking a final look at himself, and then taking the opportunity to look you up and down. He couldn't deny the way you were always well dressed. You were always so kind to him, always treated him well even when he was distant from you.

He'd be lying if he didn't say that was an admirable quality in you.

So elegant, charming even. As much as he tried not to care, he loved the smell of your cologne. Something soft that reminded him of wild roses.

He was so captivated by looking at the ornaments that adorned your neck that he couldn't help but inhale your fragrance once more, letting the soft scent that surrounded you enter his nostrils, making him feel the sweetness once more.

"You look elegant, prince." You encouraged him, wrapping your arm around his as he began to take small steps towards the door.

He gives you a simple smile, leading you through the bustling corridors with the various workers. Everyone was looking at the two of you, and whispers could be heard here and there.

You knew that in this meeting your presence was only decorative, just like all the other spouses of the other seniors who would be there. Not that it bothered you, since it could be considered a relief if you spent more time around Leon. Even if it was an obligation.

The walk was as silent as ever, only polite smiles were exchanged between you and Leon, nothing too intimate. Leon was completely uncompromising with you, if you were being sincere he barely noticed you when you were that close.

He would only do so if he was in a good mood, which wasn't very often since he was always grumpy. And being close to you often made his mood worse.

However, you could see that he was trying, but the eyes don't lie. It wasn't hard to disguise the fact that he wasn't so much fond of you. Maybe it was just an annoyance and that would change with time, at least that's what you hoped.

It only took a few minutes for the two of you to reach the main hall, where you were greeted by all kinds of important guests. Even some you hadn't even seen in person.

Nothing more than the usual courtesies, pleasantries about the upcoming wedding and the union of the kingdoms, which was in fact the most important thing. In other words, what had made the whole situation happen.

After the proper introductions, you and Leon, along with the other guests, went to the room where the meeting was to take place, a spacious place that had been properly prepared for the occasion.

Soon the meeting began, with nothing but the usual fallacies and promises of the Kingdom's future prosperity.

Nothing you and Leon hadn't heard before, but you both knew that this was nothing more than a reinforcement of the future marriage.

That's because Leon's father always looked at him as he spoke, always made a point of leaving the word to his son every chance he got. He wanted to show his son's honor and pride

He needed to show all this to everyone present.

And even though Leon didn't like being the center of attention, he couldn't say no to his father, because unfortunately he was still following his father's orders.

After a few incessant hours, the meeting ended, with a certain exhaustion on the part of those present. After the farewells, which also seemed never-ending, you two headed down the corridors, approaching the stairs to go to your chambers.

As you walked slowly, you noticed the tired look on Leon's face, as he appeared to be completely drained.

"You did well, prince." You said in a sweet whisper, giving him an approving smile.

And then that was enough for him to look at you, giving you a brief smile, but one that never failed to make your heart flutter.

"Your presence was important, Your Highness." These could have been simple words, but you felt your knees weaken with them.

You chuckled, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.

Just as you were about to go upstairs, Leon's father called out to him from a distance, apparently wanting to talk to him about something personal.

You only heard a sigh come from Leon's lips, who then left you on the stairs to go on your way.

"I'll see you at dinner time." He says calmly, as he takes your covered hand and kisses the back of it. This time letting his lips linger there a little longer.

You get giddy every time he does that, your mind gets all messed up just feeling his lips like that.

With a charming smile, he bids you a courteous farewell and heads off in the direction of his father.

As soon as you walked the long stairs, you went straight to your bedroom, ready for a warm, comfortable bath before dinner.

But before you entered your room, something caught your eye. One of the maids was carrying a bouquet of flowers to Leon's room, and if you were being honest, the maid was in quite a hurry to carry the flowers.

From the way she was trying to sneak into Leon's room to put the flowers there, you could tell it was suspicious at best.

So you decided to go after the girl, to ask what she was doing. Slowly you approached, taking care not to alarm the woman or even make a fuss about it.

But even so, the young woman seemed to notice you, and unconsciously hid the bouquet behind her back in a clumsy way, as if to prevent you from seeing anything.

"Your Highness…" She stammered, trying to keep her composure and not get so nervous. Which failed if you were being honest.

You could see the apprehension in her wide eyes, just as her hands were shaking. What was so special about those flowers?

You nod, looking at her gently, "I imagine you're quite busy. You're in such a hurry."

You speak softly, just to level the waters, and even to appear unpretentious. She stuttered, only affirming with her head that she was in a hurry, not even trying to get into Leon's room.

"I… I was just passing by. I need to take these." She says, holding the flowers tightly, still in the same failed attempt to hide them from you.

You were about to ask one more question, but your eyes focused on a small piece of paper that had fallen to the floor, and looking at it you could tell it was a letter.

It wasn't long before you bent down and picked it up, holding it between your fingers. You didn't dare read it yet, because you already knew what it was about.

"Your Highness, this,—" You interrupt her discreetly, straightening your posture.

"I'm your highness, I don't suppose you have to hide anything from me," you then whispered, moving closer and standing in a spot where only you and she could hear each other, "Unless you're doing something wrong."

You didn't want to sound authoritative, but you just wanted to show a little sovereignty. You weren't going to let it go, under your nose was already too much.

"No, no princess." She says dimly, starting to get even more freaked out.

You didn't say much longer, your anxiety to read what was written on that letter was slowly eating away at you, and you had an overwhelming desire to find out what was there.

"Allow me." You whisper, gently taking the flowers from her hand. Carrying the bouquet in your arms.

Fresh lilies, just picked. They were kind of purplish in color, and smelled amazing. They were definitely beautiful.

The maid even tried to protest, but you dismissed her with a wave of your hand, heading for Leon's chambers. You soon entered the room, which was honestly not new to you, and you quickly closed the door behind you.

Once the silence hung in the air, you took a deep breath, looking at the flowers and the letter in your hand. And so you decided to look for a vase to put the delicate lilies in, and it wasn't hard to find, given the variety of things in Leon's room.

As soon as you placed the vase with the flowers next to Leon's bed, you decided it was time to read the letter in your hands.

The paper was all decorated, with beautiful calligraphy, as well as a few little hearts here and there. Certainly the kind of letter that lovers would exchange.

'Your favorites, handpicked. To the sweet prince, Leon. -A

You knew that this was supposed to be something intimate and that you shouldn't even be reading it, but even though it was such a subtle message, it still showed how close these two were.

Your lips trembled as you felt your vision blur. How complicated were things getting?

You even tried to push these thoughts away, thinking that maybe you were just thinking too much. But how could you do that?

How were you supposed to act as his second choice, even though you were the woman he was going to marry?

You froze once all your thoughts stopped and focused on the voice that called out to you from across the room.

"Your Highness? What are you doing here?" Leon's tone was low, as if he was completely serious and sharp with you.

You turned around, taking a deep breath and controlling your emotions, giving the sweetest, most polite smile you could manage at that moment.

"They're for you, prince." You say with a smile, as if you weren't aware of anything. The flowers weren't the first thing he focused on.

At the same moment you saw the color fade from his face, it became pale, almost the color of paper. For a split second you saw an expression of fear and surprise come over him.

His eyes widened and he took a small step towards you, but stopped at the same moment. You could even see his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed dryly, his body stiffening.

Did he really think he was hiding this secret well? How innocent it would be to think so. If the rest of the kingdom knew, why shouldn't you?

He wasn't very good at disguising it, in fact. What was he supposed to say? Wasn't it too obvious? Surely you wouldn't miss it, at least you already knew what it was about.

You moved closer to the flowers that you yourself had put in a vase, bringing your nose closer so that you could smell the lilies.

"They smell good, whoever sent it, they have great taste." You say calmly, arranging the flowers in the vase once again.

You could feel your hands starting to shake slightly, something about what you were doing didn't feel right.

But what else could you do? Maybe it was daring, but you couldn't help yourself.

Nobody liked being cheated on.

He opened his mouth for a few seconds, thinking of anything he could say.

But all that came out was a weak, 'Oh'. Before he approached you and took a look at the flowers that were there.

His fingertip brushed lightly against one of the flowers, looking at them with a certain tenderness. He obviously knew who it was from, or rather, who had sent him these flowers.

It was clearer than day.

"My mother probably sent one of the maids to buy these fresh flowers." He manages to stutter after a while, unable to face you fully.

His mother? What a lame excuse, you think.

You take a few more steps across the room, the sound of your heels echoing through the large room. You didn't even make a point of hiding the suspicious expression forming on your face.

You were quick to grab the small letter before he saw it, before he had even arrived in the room. You already knew, and you also knew that he wouldn't admit it.

However, you had proof in your hands, certainly an affair outside of the marriage relationship would not go down well with royalty, even more so coming from a renowned prince like him.

You simply had the perfect weapon in your hands, ready to be used any time you needed it. Not that you were going to do it now, you didn't even want to have to do it at some point.

However, you did have something useful in case you needed it. You didn't want to take any rash action that you might regret.

"I'll have those flowers put somewhere else,—" You interrupted him, looking at him with a gentle, sweet smile, as if you weren't tearing up inside.

"No need, I think it looks nice here." You murmured, taking the opportunity to smell the sweet scent of the flowers once again

The tension was palpable, the heavy atmosphere that soon formed in that room. Every gesture showed the unease that had formed, your lips trembled and you pressed them tightly together so as not to let anything show

But he noticed, he noticed the way your fists were clenched and that you were trembling slightly, as well as the drop of water forming in the corner of your eyes.

He knew that you might have suspected something, but what could he do? There was nothing he could say or do that would comfort you in any way.

It was as cruel for you as it was for him.

You exchanged silent but strangely meaningful glances, as if you were playing a game of chess.

The flowers and the letter became symbols of a game of appearances, where every gesture hid secrets that could dismantle the façade of a royal marriage.

And you both knew it, after all it was a game that only two could play, and you were both learning and understanding how this game would work.

It was certainly even worse in practice, but there was nothing you could do about it. Even more so, Leon was looking at the flowers in a somewhat puzzled way, but at the same time there was a certain gleam in his eye.

He couldn't hide that body language. Not even if he tried.

"If you wish, the flowers stay." He broke the silence, staring at you with that cold, penetrating gaze that was so mesmerizing.

You nodded, making a point of putting the flowers on the shelf next to his bed, acting as if you weren't interested or uncommitted to the whole thing.

God, you felt yourself breaking every time you looked at the petals, at the smell that wafted through the room.

"If the prince will excuse me, I'll go to my chambers." You said with the same sweet smile, bowing to him and leaving his room.

All you had in your ears was the sound of your heels clacking against the floor as you moved lightly to your own room.

Leon didn't say a word, he didn't even walk you to your usual bedroom door. You didn't know if it was anger or surprise, perhaps because he hadn't imagined that you would act so calmly.

Even though he could sense that you were hurt.

In the end, appearances would be kept up, even if the night had been stormy. One step at a time, day after day.

There was no such thing as a sad day in royalty, so you could already prepare your smile for the next day.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #re leon #resident evil leon

[freak-accident419]

You Were Everything

Derek Danforth x AFAB!GN!Reader

Summary: It’s been a few years since the divorce. When you accidentally got pregnant by Derek, he left immediately out of fear, leaving you pregnant all alone. Compromises and communication had become established and all he could do now was call your daughter. But one day, just like some others, he asks to see her in person again.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content: angst, mentions of accidental pregnancy, reader is divorced from Derek, ‘P/n’ = parent name (what your child would call you, whether it be mommy/daddy/etc)

(A/n: I’ve gotta stop being inspired by Richie Jerimovich… reader is afab yet implied/intended to be genderqueer—either nonbinary, genderfluid, transman, transmasc, etc. but it can also apply to cis fem readers. Anyone with a uterus. I know this arrangement isn’t accurate—the custody thing—but it makes things more dramatic, you know?)

-

“Y/n, please.” You heard your ex-husband plead over the phone.

“Derek, we’ve already talked about this countless times. I’m not going to change my mind,” you sigh wearily.

Things with Derek were… complicated, to say the very least. You had once been married to him a few years ago, and everything was going so well. That is, until he got you pregnant.

It was a complete accident. You two always thought you were being safe. You both never planned on pregnancy, let alone even talked about the possibility of having a child. And with your conditions, you weren’t even sure you would be willing to raise it, to carry it all those nine months. But you went through with it anyway.

When Derek found out, he was utterly terrified. He never thought of himself being a father, he never thought he’d ever be the father of your kid, and he especially never thought you would even have a kid of your own. And so, out of sole fear and impulse, he just left one night. Gave you space, you supposed. But things ultimately just ended up in a bitter divorce. Derek was barely there for you.

Which was why you were so insistent on not letting him see your daughter. Jessica or Jess, she was named after Derek’s mother. She was four-years-old now, only communicating with her father on the phone, consoled by the lie you told her that he lived across the globe. During your pregnancy, he still paid for the medical bills, child support, formula, et cetera, yet he was separated from you. Therefore, you simply denied him visitation for your daughter, court-ordered, because you believed he didn’t deserve to see her. He left you alone for all those months, knowing how drastic of a concept pregnancy was to you. You never planned to let him see her.

“Y/n, please. Just for a day. Or even—even just an hour! Let me see my little girl. Please,” he begged with hopeless desperation. It was insulting to you, the fact that he finally wanted to be part of you and your daughter’s life.

“I’m not changing my mind,” you assert forcefully. “You left us. You left her and you left me.” You two always had this same conversation with the same statements and reasons. He had always brought up the possibility of seeing his daughter. This same conversation happened nearly almost every month.

“C’mon. She—she deserves to have a dad present in her life. I can’t just—just call her up all the time while she just believes I’m across the sea and unable to see her!” He urged imperatively to his ex-spouse.

“You’re right. She does deserve to have a dad. A present dad, a good dad,” you utter pressingly. “But that’s just not you.”

Derek pinched his nose bridge in frustration and sighed. He felt terrible. He felt so regretful and so horrible and undeserving of seeing his daughter in person. But he was also selfish—he needed to see her. Derek believed that he learned from his mistakes. Ultimately, he didn’t want to be a father in the beginning because he knew he was unfit. That is, until recently, when he shut down UDG and Nine Star.

“I know I messed up. I know—I know things ended horribly and—and you will never forgive me, but… but I just wanna see Jessica. Not even for an hour? Even five minutes? Five minutes, Y/n, come on, five minutes. Let me have this,” he implored. A part of you felt bad. After all, deep down you still loved him. But you kept remembering every grueling and difficult second while you were pregnant and alone.

“Derek, we’ve already had this conversation. You can continue to call her just like it has been for the past four years. But that’s it. You—” you paused in your tracks as you looked at the kitchen table, the plastic cup of milk tipped over, the drink spreading across the surface. You rushed to get napkins and you soothe your daughter. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just spilt milk. Easy to clean. You’re okay.” You wiped the milk with the napkins after setting the cup back up. She was a sensitive child, so she was definitely upset about the spilled drink, yet you were able to distract her from the accident. “There. See? All clean. Did you eat your vegetables? Oh my, you did! All of them? Good girl!”

Your sweet, higher pitched voice transmitted to the other side of the phone, Derek hearing you speak to your daughter. His heart nearly stopped as he began to hear the muffled babbles of the toddler in the background of the call. His voice softened immediately, and he couldn’t think about anything but the presence of his daughter.

“She… She’s been eating her vegetables?” He asks softly in awe.

You bring the phone back to your ear. “Yeah,” you answer simply, looking down at her as she continued to eat her lunch.

Derek felt a rush of pride. Even though it was something as small as finishing vegetables, he was extremely proud of her. He always was.

“Is she—is she there?” He inquired breathlessly.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

“Can I talk to her?”

“Derek—”

“Please.”

You sigh, pausing. You only let him speak to her for a certain amount of hours and at a specific time of the day, but… you figured there was no harm in letting him speak to her right now. “Fine,” you yield.

After handing the phone to your daughter and telling her who it was, you caught the sudden change of her expression—she nearly beamed.

“Hi, daddy!”

Derek felt his heart explode and his whole world practically stopped at the moment he heard his child’s voice again. Sure, he gets to call her every day, but he could never get used to it, to the feeling, to her voice. The way she called him her father with enthusiasm and exhilaration, as if he was worth all the excitement. Then his lips curled into a soft smile once he fully processed the moment. “Hey… hey, baby, how are you?”

“I’m good!” She chirped sweetly. “Guess what?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” He replies excitedly.

“I can do a cartwheel now!” She exclaimed.

“Oh really?” He chuckles softly.

“Yeah! My friend Emmy, who-who’s in gymnastics, she showed me how!” Derek smiles as he continued to hear the purity and cheerfulness of his own daughter’s voice. His heart melted every time he heard her, every mispronunciation, every babble.

“That’s amazing, honey!” He praised with admiration.

Her happiness was overwhelming. While he was proud of her—and he was—he couldn’t help but feel miserable. He couldn’t be there to see it. To see his daughter, unlike other kids, finish all her vegetables without any problems. To see her do a cartwheel for the very first time.

“I wish you could see it, daddy! It’s so cool!”

“I bet it is, Jess,” he replies joyfully, ensuring that there were no hints of anguish in his tone. “I wish I could see it too.”

It hurt him a lot, if he had to be honest—not being able to see his daughter and her achievements and growth in person. It was slowly, deliberately killing him.

“And-and yesterday, p/n’s friend Josh took us to the aquarium!” she giggled.

Oh, right. Your new boyfriend. Josh.

Josh, the one who always took you out to dinner whenever he could. The one who treated your daughter with ice cream regularly.

Josh, the one with a clean background and normal, humble life.

Josh, the one who Jess mentioned on several occasions, especially whenever she brought up your happiness.

Derek felt his mouth become dry, obligated to lick his lips. He gulped, attempting to disregard the whole painful ‘Josh’ thing with a relevant question. “Yeah? What kinds of animals did you see there?” He asked curiously.

“There were a lot of fishes, and penguins, and seahorses, and turtles, and octopuses! But my favorite were the seals,” she babbles gleefully, completely ignorant of the entire situation.

“That sounds so fun, baby,” he replied with a wide smile. “Why are seals your favorite?”

“I don’t know. They’re just really cute,” she shrugs with an innocent giggle. “P/n said that they remind them of you, though.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Your p/n said that?”

“Mhm!”

“Me? Seals?”

“Yeah. They said it was because you had big puppy eyes,” she giggles.

Derek laughs. It felt nice to hear that you still spoke of him to your daughter, let alone fondly. And it was also very typical of you to say; hearing that was inexplicably nostalgic. It warmed his heart. “Can’t argue with that.”

A pondering thought lingered in his mind as he thought about you, and he felt it eating at him.

“Hey, baby, can I ask you something?” He implores gently.

“Okay!” she replies simply.

“Is… Is your P/n happy?” Derek felt nervous as he asked this question.

“Yeah!” she babbles cheerfully. “They’re always happy!”

There was a wave of a warm, bittersweet feeling in his chest as he smiled softly to himself. But also relief. He still cared about you, so, so much. Derek regrets leaving you that day. He wants to come back for Jess, of course. But he also wants to come back to you.

Derek opened his mouth to speak, until suddenly—

“Oh. P/n wants to be back on the phone.”

Derek’s smile falters immediately. He knew you never really approved of any interaction between him and your daughter, so he assumed you wanted to cut the call short. But in the end, nothing would be enough for him. Not a five minute or five hour call. He would sacrifice anything to see her. But he knew that as long as you never forgive him, it’ll never happen. “O-okay, baby. I love you, okay? Give—give the phone back to your p/n, please.”

“Okay! I love you! Bye daddy!”

He sighs as he heard the phone being passed to you, taking a deep breath as he prepared to speak to you once again. It was kind of draining, mostly because he was intimidated by you. Speaking to you was just a reminder of his failure, of how he failed you.

“Hey,” you sigh.

“Hey…”

There was a slight pause until Derek spoke up.

“So… seals remind you of me, huh?”

You groan playfully and place a hand on your forehead. “She told you that?”

“Mhm. I mean—personally, I don’t get why you’ve always talked out my eyes being ‘big and brown,’ like every time, you always said that same thing—”

“Because they are,” you chuckle under your breath. Little did he know, and little did Jess know, that she had his eyes. You had mixed feelings about Derek indefinitely, especially because of the past. But there was something so invigorating about talking about your daughter with him. “Did she tell you about the cartwheel?”

“Yeah,” he replies with a grin on his face. Knowing him for a long time, you could imagine how his face looked just by the sound of his voice. “I’m so proud of her.”

“You know, um… she’s very invested in math right now,” you bring up.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, there was this, uh, cartoon… on the TV showing simple math problems and uh… she just sorta fell in love with it. She wanted me to teach her more,” you reiterate. “Derek, she’s four.”

Derek listened in awe, becoming more and more amazed by his daughter.

“Really? She wanted to learn math?”

“Yeah,” you were practically beaming. “She is so smart, Derek,” you affirm, “Our—our daughter, she is so smart.”

”Y-yeah. She—she really is,” he replied briefly with mere astonishment.

That was the first time that you referred to your daughter as his. ‘Our,’ echoed in his mind. ‘Our daughter.’ He wasn’t sure that you even caught that, that it was intentional, because you said it so naturally and quick, but… he couldn’t help but feel good about himself—about everything—after that.

There was a short pause before you cleared your throat. “Hey, um… I thought about it a lot and, uh… I have this business thing across the country… and, um… I was planning on having my mom watch her or a sitter, but, uh…”

You pause, afraid to even make the proposal.

“I wanted you to watch her. On that weekend. You can, uh… finally meet her, spend time with her, and…”

Derek was in complete shock. His eyes were wide, he felt his entire body freeze, it was like he couldn’t move.

“When is this?” He uttered quietly in disbelief.

“In two weeks,” you answer, “Are you up for it?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Of course, I…” Derek was incredibly astonished. Was this even real? You were finally going to let him see his daughter? “Of course. I’ll—I’ll be there.” He was so prepared to cancel every single plan on that weekend, clearing up his schedule just for Jess.

“Y/n, thank you. Thank you so much, I…” He was still in utter shock. It was unexpected after all, just a few minutes ago you had denied him again. But while your daughter was calling him, you got an email from your work, reminding you about the business trip. You weren’t entirely sure why you changed your mind like this. You just hoped that you wouldn’t regret it.

“Just… please don’t mess it up,” you sigh exasperatedly.

“I—I won’t,” he says confidently. Derek felt his hands shake ever so slightly, eyes watering from the realization he had—he was going to see his kid. For the first time, he was going to see his child.

“Okay.”

Derek felt emotional. He was actually going to see his kid. He was actually going to watch her cartwheel, he was actually going to hold her. He could take her out for ice cream like… how Josh had.

Derek gulped as he pondered.

“Y/n?” He mumbles silently.

You hum in response.

“I, uh… How are—How are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright, Derek,” you reply briefly.

You said his name softly this time, however—not harshly like before. It tugged on his weak heartstrings as if they were useless, frayed string.

And then there was an awful, deafening pause.

“I, uh… I still really love you, Y/n.”

You felt your heart sink before it shattered completely. Your vision began to become blurry with your now glassy eyes. It hurt. This all hurt.

Derek wouldn’t know much this affected you, however. He could only hear your voice or your silence. He’d never know how awful you felt just from hearing that, like how awful he felt from blurting it out. He believed you completely moved on from him. But he adored you, to say the very least, hopelessly. It was simply a cry for a second chance.

There was a terrible, piercing silence. Were you still there, behind the phone?

“Y/n…?”

You were speechless for too long as his words lingered horribly in your mind.

Then finally…

“I know,” he heard you reply softly, under your trembled breath.

“I—I still care about you,” you add. Wrong. You still love him too. But he would never know that. He would be foolish to assume without hearing the three words leave your own lips. And you couldn’t. You couldn’t tell him that you still loved him, because he would just hold on and hope longer. So instead, you express your gratitude for him. “Um… Thank you for… for all the good times… for being in my life…

You were a wonderful experience.”

#derek danforth #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x gn!reader #derek danforth angst #angst #the beekeeper #the beekeeper fanfic #the beekeeper movie #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson x you #mike schmidt x reader #clapton davis x reader #josh futturman x reader #peeta mellark x reader

[performing-personhood]

I learned a kind of funny thing and I need to tell you bc it's important, cmere. Lean in so the others can't hear okay?

Ok so like

I know that the reason we are the way we are is because at some point we took up some space - as people do - and someone turned to us and went "whoa, excuse you! What do you think you're doing" or something, right? And they were, like, surprised and offended that we took up space and told us to stay real small and subservient? And we were pretty young, you and me, and we didn't really grok Peopling yet and so we assumed that everyone else was going to have that expectation too?

Okay I just learned: that isn't true at all, that person was just an asshole.

Babe. BABE. This is big.

Ok do you realize ??? that most people when they're around someone - anyone, this is important, it's an unconscious reflex and happens rather automatically - and that person is like "I have an opinion and desires and also some needs and I am going to express them openly" Did you realize, because I didn't, that most people completely intuitively go "oh! There's another person here! Lemme just scootch over so they fit better :)" PEOPLE MAKE ROOM FOR YOU.

People don't ignore us, when we're silently having wants and needs and waiting our turn to be noticed, they just have similar very loud brains and have no idea because beung corporeal is Distracting™️. Not only do people just need a reminder that you're there, they're totally happy to accomodate. In a distinctly "ope! My bad, lemme just- here-" sort of way.

My spouse has a loud brain and drowns it out with Mario Kart. I've spent most of my life quietly entertaining myself in all of these instances, because at some point someone told me I was supposed to "go play" and nobody wanted to play with me so I entertained myself right? Okay. Well I recently had a sea change and decided I was gonna pop my headphones in and watch TV on my tablet when he was doing his Mario Karting. Because the boy will easily go for four hours and I just spontaneously realized that it would actually be ridiculous if he got butthurt at me for putting some quiet tv on for myself instead of watching a grown man play the same video game for hours.

You know what happened? Not only did nobody's feelings get hurt, but I have never made it more than twenty minutes into a show before he ends a match and switches the console off. And I have never asked him to do so. When I'm over there doing my own thing with my own TV show like a person instead of just scrolling on my phone trying real hard not to exist, somewhere in his unconscious he goes "there's a whole other human being on the other end of the sofa from me. I want to turn this off and engage with that person!"

Okay do you understand what I am telling you??

When you behave like a human person and treat yourself like a human person, other people also instinctively treat you like a human person and they're happy to be reminded that they get to engage with you. The person in our past that reacted differently and got mad at us for being a person, plainly and simply: they were just being an asshole to us.

The people we love want to engage with us. Almost all of them!!! And not only that?? Most other human beings feel the same way.

Huge. Big huge.

Don't take my word for it baby cakes okay, take a sec and muster up the courage (it'll be scary the first time, but the thinking about it is always scarier than doing it I swear) and then get back out there and practice being your very own human person occupying human people space, around someone who loves you, and just... watch what happens. The first time someone warmly, graciously, voluntarily accommodates you is the greatest feeling a corporeal being can experience, and you deserve it too.

#recovering people pleaser #recovering from abuse #recovering from trauma #recovering codependent #recovering from cptsd #cptsd recovery #actually cptsd #just neurodivergent things #actually neurodivergent #mental illness #things I learned in therapy #therapy works

[sturniozo]

In The Shadows I

masterlist

Most people that work for their father’s company have no choice, they’re thrown into it against their will. I was no different. Ever since I learned what my father really did for a living he had decided it would be what I do to. And I do it well. I’ve been training since I was 16. Now, 6 years later I’m the greatest assassin his company has ever produced.

My father runs a business, a hit man business. Some people are rich enough to hire people like us, people like me. We don’t just kill, we erase. We make people suffer and we make them silenced. Some people hire us just to investigate, gather information on an enemy.

You wouldn’t believe the amount of people that have wanted others dead. Exes wanting revenge, spouses wanting to collect life insurance, adult children sick of their parents. Some of their reasoning isn’t even good, but hey, moneys money right?

The cash isn’t even why I do it. It’s the thrill. Being undercover, being sneaky, solving things people had made difficult because they thought they were smart enough to hide them.

Everything I do, I do for the thrill. That rush of adrenaline that I’ve yet to let anyone who cares about me know about. Most assassins are like me though. No one really does it for the money. That’s just a bonus.

My father’s the only one who knows what I do. He made me what I am today. A killer. Not even my boyfriend of two years knows. He thinks I’m a planner at a company that sells stocks. That’s my cover. Thats my lie.

My eyes snap open as I hear my alarm go off. I dig under my pillow for my phone and shut off the alarm. I set my phone down on the night stand and rub my eyes. 5 am. I look over to my side and see my sleeping boyfriend, Luke. No doubt he went to bed not even an hour ago. He spends most nights staying up all night playing video games.

I sit up in bed and yawn. I get up and make my way to my bathroom. I take a quick shower before leaving to my usual coffee shop for breakfast.

The barista hands me my usual order with a smile. I’m used to seeing her here almost every day. Her usual days off are Wednesday and Friday. I sip on my coffee as I head back to my car. The clock on the console reads 6:53 am. I set the coffee down in the cup holder and drive off to the building I spend so many days in during my childhood, before I knew what it held.

I park in my usual spot, right next to my father’s car. I get out the car with my purse and my coffee, heading to the building entrance. I nod at Bobbie, the security girl, as I swipe my access card. It grants me access to the building and I head straight to my father’s office as I do every morning.

“Ah, good morning my dear.” My dad says as he gets out of his chair and walks to me for a hug.

“Good morning, Dad.” I say as I hug him back tightly.

He pulls away and smiles at me. “What do you have for me today?” He asks.

I dig through my purse and find a little paper bag. I hand it to him. “Open it.” I say while biting my lip to contain my excitement.

My father smiles at me and opens the little paper bag, letting a ring fall out onto his hand. “24 karat diamond?” He asks as he examines it.

“Yep. Fresh off the finger of a very unlucky divorcé.” I tell him.

“Ah, so this is the proof of contract completion for that Mrs. Aubrey then?”

“Ms. Aubrey.” I correct. “And yes, her ex husband won’t be bothering her or her children anymore.”

“That’s a good girl, I knew I could count on you.” My father smiles and puts the ring back in its paper bag. “I’ll have it delivered to her tonight, expect your payment in full my tomorrow morning dear.” He sits back down in his chair.

I sit down in the seat in front of his desk. “That’s my last contract, I’m officially out of running orders.” I say with a laugh.

“Oh don’t worry, I’ve got something for you.” My dad smiles as he begins typing away at his computer.

“What is it?” I ask, leaning in.

“I’ll tell you in a bit, go on back to your office dear.”

“Why wait?”

“There’s more than just you and I for this contract, it’s a big one.”

I smile brightly. My father’s finally giving me a big important contract for my own. “All right. Just call my office when you’re ready for me, Dad.” I say with a smile as I get up from the seat.

“I’ll see you in a bit, dear.” He says as he waves me off.

I walk out of his office and to the elevator. My father’s office is on the top floor, while mine is about seven floors below that, a bit more than 2/3 of the way up the whole building. I walk out of the elevator and see the cubicles. I’m glad I got to skip that part.

I walk down the cleared walkway to my office, but am stopped when someone waves me over.

Casey. She started here as an information analyst just over a year ago. Now she profiles the subjects of our contracts. She’s the one who decides which assassin does what job.

“Hey, Casey.” I rest my arms over her cubicle.

“So, your new contact.” She smiles at me.

“I take it you chose me?” I laugh.

“No, this one came straight from the big man, your dad.” She says.

“Ah, okay. So you have no idea what it is then?” I ask.

“Nope.” She shakes her head.

“Then what did you call me over for?” I ask with a laugh.

“To gossip, duh! What else?” She laughs.

“I’m not one to gossip, Casey, you know that.” I say as I begin to walk away.

“I just wondered if you heard anything about the new guy.” She shrugs.

I turn back to her. “New guy?” I ask.

“He’s on loan from another industry. Apparently he’s their best assassin. Might even be right up there with your skill.” She chuckles.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“Well, I didn’t get a name, but he’s handsome. I snuck a peak at his photo in his file when I was in your dad’s office yesterday.” She smirks. “He’s gorgeous, like a god!” She whispers.

I laugh. “He’s a trained killer?”

She nods. “His file was definitely an assassin file.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be spreading this around. Idle gossip isn’t what people come here for.” I say before walking into my office.

I shut the door behind me and let out a breath. I walk to my desk and set down my now half drunk coffee and my purse. I rub my temple and check the time on my phone. 8:14 am.

I groan and lay my head down in my arms on my desk. No contracts, no one to research or study. Nothing. I sigh and start scrolling aimlessly on my phone.

I get bored fast and see my phone down on my desk. I run my fingers over my face and bounce my knee up and down. The agony and boredom is killing me.

I shake my head and begin searching through my drawers, taking everything out and organizing everything. Within an hour I have everything in my office rearranged. I step back and look at it all, smiling.

I turn around and look out the glass wall of my office. Anyone who looked in here would think I was crazy. I just tore apart my entire office and rearranged it all in an hour, just out of boredom.

Staring out the glass I see someone who makes my breath hitch. Matt Sturniolo. Matt worked at this company years ago. He was one of my father’s greatest assassins. He even taught me most of my tricks. But that all changed when Matt betrayed me.

The call finally comes. My father telling me it’s time to go back up to his office. I have a weird feeling in my stomach, a feeling Matt has something to do with it.

I make my way to the elevator and go back up to my father’s office. I walk out of the elevator and stop when I see him. Matt standing in my father’s office. Just talking with him.

I gather my courage and walk into his office, ignoring Matt completely. “Got the call,” I say to my dad. “What’s the contract?”

“Y/n, you know Matt Sturniolo.” My dad gestures to Matt. I side eye him before looking back at my dad.

“Yes, I remember him.” I mumble.

“He’s your partner for this contract.”

My jaw drops. “He- what?” Matt laughs and I turn to glare at him. “What’s so funny?” I ask him.

“Just you.” Matt says. “You’re like a high school girl with a grudge.”

I glare at him before turning back to my dad. “There’s got to be someone else, or I could just do it myself!” I tell him.

“No, you two are the best assassins I’ve ever met, the best trained killers, the best investigators, the best of the best. I need both of you for this.” My father says in a demanding tone.

“What’s the contract?” Matt asks.

“Finley Wilson.” My father stands up and hands both Matt and me a folder. “Collector of rare curios. He’s not the target though, your job is to befriend him. Pose as a couple in search of useless art and befriend Wilson. Find out who he cares about the most.”

I stare at my father. “Us? A couple?” I point between Matt and myself.

“I won’t hear any of your complaining.” My dad says. “This is an important contact, I want reports every night. Your flight leaves tomorrow afternoon, I suggest you be ready then, understand?” My father says sternly.

I nod and keep my mouth closed.

“Good. Don’t worry, I’ll have your things for your cover sent with you. You’ll need to make a believable couple, and Wilson will have to believe you’re a rich couple looking to buy his curios. That is important. You need him to believe this cover. He’s paranoid, it won’t be easy.”

Matt closer the folder and holds it under his arm. “Where are we going?” He asks.

“Switzerland.”

TAGS: @sturniolopookie @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer

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[marymary-diva17]

I will always love you all (Modern au)

Jake x tonowari x reader x neytiri x ronal

Love is something that will last forever and had been built over the years, when it comes to loving someone a person will put their whole heart and effort into it as well. Soon this love will lead to a marriage with the promise of the marriage and relationship lasting forever, and never coming to and end. Then what happens when the said love that once was there, was no longer possessed by the ones involved in this relationship. What become of someone who still holds love for those who don't love them back anymore.

y/n " ........" You had married your childhood friends and taught your marriage will go well with them, as the relationship you had with them was something special. Special enough to finally marry them and soon enough start a family as well, but now it seems like that love was gone. Everything was going well but now it seems like everything was coming cashing down now.

Jake " look we are sorry we had told you like this but we need to tell you"

y/n " divorce or separation" you had looked at your spouse hoping to get some answers from them, but they all looked at each other.

neytiri " divcore"

y/n " so you all ... can you explain this one more time to me please"

tonowari " for some time we have realized the love we once had for you is no longer here, we thought it was just a moment of something but kept on growing we all soon felt it"

y/n " so you all wish to have a divorce from me ... to end our marriage and relationship"

ronal " we will still have an relationship with your but not this one anymore"

y/n " cant we try marriage consultation or separation for a time frame ... it can't end like this"

Jake " we all want to marriage consolation without you we still have love for each other, but we found out we no longer love you"

y/n " so you all been feeling this way for sometime and went to this meeting without sharing it with me or anything"

tonowari " yes we are sorry we didn't want to hurt you or the kids, we just need to get some help"

y/n " so what are we going to tell the children you know they will not take this well"

ronal " we will tell them and deal with everything later on as it comes ... please we cnat make this hard we have to do our best" your had felt your heart break just last week you had gone on date with them, and everything was fine or maybe that was you see everything through rose thinned glasses. It had taken a couple days to tell the kids the news and they didn't take it that well, tuk ran into her room and cried she was followed by her sister. that boys got mad and stormed off to spider house. it felt like everything was coming apart for you and the family.

months later

y/n " I only get visitation and some holidays with my kids"

lawyer " I'm sorry y/n but you are none of the kids birth mothers and it seems, like my clients had this all planned out well"

lawyer 2 " that not fair y/n her raised this kids as her own she stayed home with them, and gave up some career choices"

lawyer " look coming from the kids statement you are a good mother y/n and wonderful person indeed but think about, them you don't have claim over the house and the kids have lives here ... you might have to move which will end up with them switch schools do you wish that for them"

y/n " no ... cant I just talk it out with my spouses please"

lawyer " ex spouse they already signed all the papers but you, this causing troubles at home right"

y/n " yes the kids are become mad fights are happing at home .... matters are no longer the same anymore I miss my old family"

lawyer " look there are some things we have to do and that might be giving up so others can be happy ... you wish for everyone to be happy right"

y/n " yes"

lawyer 2 " I can help you with anything in the future y/n"

y/n " I will sign the papers and make everyone happy ... I just want my kids to be happy again and no longer made and the home to be at peace" you had signed the papers and your were no longer with your exes anymore. it broke your heart to sign the papers and as life will no longer be the same. The whole process had caused trouble for you and your exes, most of your friends were there and they seem to be siding with your exes. You had barely saw the kids as they were always busy with their School life or their family life, and they seem to be keep some distance at the moment. You had lost your job as well making life harder for you, and when you had chance of getting a job you were regret over and over again.

months later

y/n " what I'm going to go nothing going well ... but everyone else is happy" you were staying at an house you brought at the moment you were planning for the kids to come see the place. That never happened and you wish to not cause anymore trouble.

y/n " huh" soon there was a knock at your door it was late at night so you were being careful, at first your thought it was the children to come see you. A smile grows on your face but when you open the door you saw it was some stranger.

??????" are you y/n l/n"

y/n " yes that me"

stranger " hello ma'am I have been order by my boss to offer you job you were a scientist and researcher right before, your marriage and becoming a mom right" it was some man dressed up in fancy suit that was at your door and care behind him, that same very expensive as well.

y/n " yes I was"

stranger " look my boss is looking for a smart mind like you someone who can get the job done and do the best for humility, your lawyer dropped your name she seems to know my boss ... you will get paid well and have a better place to stay a place for your kids to come see you"

y/n " will I be doing good or bad"

stranger " I'm guessing coming here at night is not a good sign" you had laugh at the stranger words making him smile.

y/n " nope but I have heard about what you were talking about, strangely I was told about this form old coworker"

stranger " so you know about us good so what will you say to job yes or no ... it will be good and it seems like you need some positive change in your lives" there was no lying there maybe some chance was good for you, and maybe this will be good for the kids as well. They had been missing you and this will follow the rules made between you and your exes.

y/n " deal"

stranger " good all your stuff will be packed up and sent over, in couple days a private jet will come get you and take you over to you new home ... make sure you tell your lawyer of this as well and anyone else"

y/n "thank you for the offer"

stranger " you welcome and if you most know the comply helps those who been through hard times, and they all have been like you and now it your turn to help others and yourself as well" you had nodded your head your as the stranger walked off into the night. During the next couple days you got everything ready to move, well mostly everything.

y/n " make this quickly y/n just tell them the news and move on" you had soon rang the door bell, waiting for someone to answer.

neytiri " y/n hello it good to see you what are you doing here"

y/n " I came to speak with you all and the kids I'm not here to causing trouble"

ronal " y/n"

y/n " hello"

?????? " mama" you are soon hugged by the kids and you hug them back happy to see them.

tuk " mama are you coming back home and we can be a family again"

y/n " I'm sorry sweetie but we are still a family"

Jake " hey y/n"

tonowari " hello"

y/n " hello look I know this news comes as surprise but I had been given a job offer"

aonung " that wonderful mama now we can come see you more and, you can be helpful again and do all the good you did before"

y/n " yes but I will not be staying here"

kiri " what"

y/n " this job is faraway so I will be moving away"

lo'ak " no mama"

y/n " I know my loves we been through alot this past couples months, but it will all be good now I will have a new job that has given me a new house big enough for you all to come stay for holidays it will be fun"

rotxo " can we come see you"

y/n " after everything is agreed upon and approved and if you dads and moms say yes, then you all can come see me and we will have fun"

tsireya " well mama if this makes you happy then we are happy for you"

y/n" we can still gave our family calls and group chat I want you to text or call me each day, and I will do the same ... so we all make sure we are happy and safe"

neteyam " deal mama"

y/n " that what I love to hear my children I will always love you guys no matter what, make sure you do good in school and have a fun time .... call me when you feel sad and I will be there or just for a talk" the kids had nodded their heads and soon hugged you one last time.

tuk " can I have a puppy or kitten at your home mommy"

y/n " we can talk this out more later all of you get ready for school, I'm not having my kids be tardy when I'm here"

neteyam " yes mama"

y/n " I will send you pictures our the our new home and everything else I see okay"

the kids " okay" the kids soon walked into the house to get ready for School, as you are left alone with your exes looking at them.

y/n " my lawyer will be in contact with you all for any updated information, I hope I can get more time with the kids for longer vacations or anything else"

Jake " sure are you sure about this job it sounds like it far away"

y/n " yes and it think it will be for the best for us all the kids can stay here and be happy with their friends and family here, I will still be there for them ..... we all need some change in our lives"

tonowari " are you sure we can help you get a job here you still have friends here as well"

y/n" no need I'm okay I can stand on my own now and I still talk with them .... I will always love you all and wish you the best and hope you find happiness if anything happens I will call .... take care all of you"

neytiri " y/n we ...." neytiri was cut off when the sound of car honking had gone off getting everyone attention, the kids rush out to see what happing.

y/n " that my ride I can't miss this I will call you all tonight I love you"

kids " love you mama"

tuk " wait mama take this a gift we been making it pictures of us all.. that why we couldn't see you that much we wanted to make you smile again"

y/n " I love them baby I will hang them up on my wall" you hug and kiss your kids goodbye and you walked away from them and got in the car. You waved goodbye to the kids from the car as you drove off the kids, are sad and happy they were going to miss you but happy you were finding happiness now in your life. It seems like your ex seem to having a hard time coming to terms what happened right now. It took the flight a long time to get there but soon enough you were there, and now you are starting your life here. You had sent the kids some photos and they were happy. When you face time them they asked to see everything and got to pick their room as well, everyone was all smile sand happiness, you are happy and couldn't wait to see what will come for you in the future.

#avatar #atwow #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #sully family x reader #avatar the way of water #jake x reader #neytiri x reader #avatar x y/n #tonowari x reader x ronal #tonowari x reader #tonowari x you #tonowari x ronal #tonowari x y/n #ronal x y/n #neytiri x y/n #neytiri x jake #jake x reader x neytiri #jake x y/n #jake x neytiri

[specialagentlokitty]

11th doctor x reader - it would always end this way

Could I get 11 in the scenario of "it would always end this way"? (Least i think thats the title... ive checked back on it 5 times, im done-) Really love that concept and it's just been sending me- - @krismas0arson

The doctor wasn’t paying much attention, not really paying attention to anything aside from the console as he banged a hammer against it.

Then he heard the song that Clara was humming to herself as she walked in and he snapped his head up, banging it against something.

“Ow!”

He rubbed his head and stepped away from the console, and Clara stopped singing to look at him.

“What were you singing?” He asked.

“I heard it on the way in, just up the street.”She smiled

“The street?”

“Yeah, a busker.”

“Take me!”

The doctor ran to the door and he gestured for Clara to do the same thing, and she sighed and followed him outside.

“It’s just a song.”

“But it’s not just a song.” He said.

Clara led him down the street then pointed across the street and the doctor walked over, standing with the small group of people who were also listening.

Clara walked over and stood next to him.

“It’s just a song, I think it’s from a film.”

The doctor carefully listened to what the words were and he furrowed his brows a little bit.

“But it’s wrong.”

“How can it be wrong doctor?” Clara laughed.

The doctor turned to look at Clara and he took her back to the TARDIS, pulling up the screen he began to flick through videos throughout time.

“All the timelines past, future and present, the song is nearly as old as time itself, it says that a deadman called out for his love to flee.”

“Yeah?”

The doctor pulled up another video, a beautiful face filled the screen, smiling from ear to ear, and he pointed to the laughing person.

“This is the original story.”

Clara looked confused.

“The deadman did not call for his love to flee, it was the deadman’s Love who called for him to flee and took his place.”

“Oh don’t be silly doctor, it’s made up. A story.”

“It’s not just a story Clara !” He snapped.

He spun around and he looked at the screen in desperation.

“It’s the story of how my spouse died…”

“You were married…?”

The doctor nodded and sat down on the table, holding a hand over his mouth as he looked at the screen.

It was replaying the same moment over and over again, the only moment he had of you.

Clara slowly walked over and sat next to him.

“It was the last days of the time war, and they were going to punish me. They knew what I was going to do and had to stop me…”

“How…?”

“Prophecy, but there was one thing the high council were missing.”

The doctor sent the TARDIS into flight, nowhere special in mind, just flying around aimlessly.

“What happened to them doctor…?”

“A prophecy, one that the high council couldn’t even foresee, something that was always going to happen. The time war was always going to end, and (Y/N) knew this. They had foreseen this as well, and they had foreseen my death. They couldn’t let that happen, so at the last moment they took my place.”

“Then what…?”

The doctor sighed, wiping a few of his tears.

“(Y/N) was locked in a time lock on a planet, nobody can access it. The time lords didn’t want to kill them because they were to be the next prophet.”

He turned to Clara.

“That song is the story told by the time lords on the last days, passed through time and space, turned into a silly little song. It’s the last moments of (Y/N)… the last moments of the person i swore to look after…”

“Can’t you find them?”

“You can’t get past a time lock even if I could I can’t get past it.”

Clara reached up and she hugged him tightly, and the doctor gently hugged her back.

“I’m sorry…”

He sighed and looked back at the screen, and he saw that the imagine had changed, showing a map of the universe with one spot flashing.

“What?” He asked.

He got up and looked at it.

“What’s going on?”

“The TARDIS has decided to take us somewhere…”

“Where?”

He looked at Clara.

“I don’t know…”

When the TARDIS stopped he ran out and he looked around the planet, it wasn’t much, just dust and dirt. He stepped out fully, and he looked around confused.

“Why would it bring us here?” He asked.

“It’s just a barren planet.” Clara mumbled.

“No, no there has to be more.”

He began scanning the area, trying to find anything, and when he looked at the screwdriver, he furrowed his brows.

“It’s picking up something, a sound wave.”

He made his way back to the TARDIS and Clara ran after him.

She could hear the voice but she couldn’t make out the words.

“Why can’t I understand it?” She asked.

“That’s impossible…” he whispered

“What? What is it?”

The doctor turned to Clara with wide eyes.

“Its Gallifrian… it’s why the TARDIS won’t translate it…”

“But I thought you were the only one?”

He looked back at the console and ran outside again, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“It’s not coming from here, but it originated from here, I can trace it!”

So that’s what he did, he traced the sound to the start of time, to the end of its reach, to the past and future of earth until he landed in the present once more.

“Its coming from here…”

They both stepped outside and they looked around, and the doctor could faintly here the song, so he followed it He ran after it, chasing it all around London until finally he found himself at the top of a building, gasping for air.

He slowly stood up and he began to looked around.

“Doctor look…” Clara whispered.

She pointed and the doctor looked, Clara smiled, placing a hand on his arm.

“I’ll wait downstairs.”

She left and the doctor just stared at your back as your voice radiated softly and quietly, a frequency only for him.

You slowly stopped singing and you turned around a gentle smile on your face.

“Impossible…”

You took a step forward, and you slowly lowered yourself to the floor as your legs threatened to give way.

“(Y/N)!”

The doctor ran over to you, and he knelt in front of you, placing his hand in the side of your face, looking you up and down.

“I’m okay.. I’m okay…”

Tears ran down his face and you looked up at him, gently brining your fingers up to brush against his skin.

“You’ve changed my love…”

“Yet you’re still as beautiful as always.” He smiled.

You laughed softly and shook your head a little bit. You breathed deeply and he looked at you in concern.

“It’s okay.. I just… I used a lot of energy to get here…”

“Let’s get you back to the TARDIS..”

He swept you into his arms, and you rested your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeats.

The doctor kept flicking his gaze to you, making sure you were still there, still okay He got to the bottom and Clara looked at him.

“I need you to open the doors.”

“Of course!”

She ran to open the doors and let the doctor and you in.

“Come and find me later.” She smiled.

With that she left and the doctor laid you down on the chairs and he covered you up with his jacket, brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

“Get some sleep…”

You nodded your head.

While you were sleeping he did all the checks he needed to on you, making sure you were actually you, checking your mind, listening to your hearts.

It was a few days until you woke up again and you finally sat up, pulling your husbands coat over you and you looked around.

The TARDIS doors were open and you got up, walking over to the doors you stepped outside and looked around.

The TARDIS had moved, and you were in a park, and he was sitting on a bench.

“Ever the thinker…” you spoke softly.

He looked up at you and quickly stood up, rushing over to you.

“You’re real. I checked.”

“I’m hurt you’d ever doubt me.”

He laughed softly and he cradled your face between his hands.

“How did you get out of the time lock…?”

You sighed.

“The time lock was designed to be done every so often… it wasn’t strong enough to hold me, they couldn’t make it strong they needed their strength.. so.. it broke…”

“That song, you planted it didn’t you?” He asked.

You smiled a little bit.

“All throughout time and space so I could find you… so you could find me…”

“How?”

“I saw the prophecy before they did, so when I vanished before that day, I was planting that songs all over the universe, for this moment.”

The doctor smiled a little bit, and he let out a soft laugh.

“My ever wonderful (Y/N)…”

He ducked down, and he kissed you like he had never done before. Every ounce of love and sadness and grief and happiness all into one kiss, and every time you pulled away he leant forward to kiss you again.

And finally you gave in, and you kissed him back.

You were time locked, frozen in time, so it hadn’t been as painful for you like it had been for him. He pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you…”

“I love you too my dear darling…”

He smiled and you closed your eyes, smiling back as he hugged you.

This was where you were always going to end up, this is where you were always going to find your way back to. You had seen it, it was why you did what you did.

You had seen the future it had been foretold that you would find your way back to the doctor, and he would find you, and you would stand right here holding him.

That’s where your vision had ended, you never saw more than that, it’s where you visions stopped once you reconnected with him. But that’s all you needed.

It’s all you ever needed to know that you weren’t going to leave him for good, even if you could never explain it to him, it was enough for him that you were here. That was all the doctor needed to know, that he you right by his side, and he could hold you again

#doctor who #doctor who x you #doctor who x y/n #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #11th doctor #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x you #11th doctor imagine

[lunarw0rks]

Old Bones | Chapter Three

Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does.

Warning(s): strong language, suggestive language, guns/gun violence, death, gore/medical gore, blood, canon-typical violence

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I think this is my fav chapter so far, lemme know what y'all think... sorry if it's medically inaccurate but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ also the bastard finally has a name !!

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ♡¸.•*' ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter | playlist | ao3 ver. ꒦꒷ O.B MASTERLIST

Vaded

“Squeeze trigger slow, don’t forget to breathe.” His fingers are overtaking yours, contorting yours so they’re using the proper form.

Even if you wanted to make a mistake, his frame was caging you in, stomach pressed deeply into the curve of your back. You do just that, firing at the glass jars lined up several feet away. Not a solid hit, but closer than the others.

Simon steps back, lowering the cock of the weapon for you. “You’re hesitating. There’s no time to hesitate or you’re dead.”

“I know that.” You spit back. The fluster of continually missing, as well as being dragged out here nearly every day was getting to you. Not to mention the heat of the sun beating down on you, successfully blinding any shot you take.

“Then do it properly,” He stands near the jars in front of you now, crossing his arms over his chest in impatience. “You think I have time to ponder when I’m holding a gun to someone’s head? I don’t. I shoot first.”

Such a prick—an insufferable prick at that. His words only escalated the sour mood you’d had during this whole morning of make-shift boot camp.

You raise the pistol again, lining up the sights and tracing along his figure being outlined by the rays of sunshine. You exhale like you’d been coached, jerking the sights to the jar closest to him and squeezing the trigger.

The mason jar explodes, laying askew on the pallets he’d set them up on. He doesn’t jump in surprise, or lose his composure.

“Better. You might actually have a chance… If he’s a statue.” His lack of reaction only pissed you off more, practically wiping any form of a smirk you had after your first lucky bullet. You switch the safety back on, for his well-being as much as your own, and toss the iron to him.

He catches it without a second thought, returning it to the sack of weapons he’d brought to train with. A week, and you’d just barely made it to pistols. Not to mention, on your toes the entire time because there’s been nothing but radio silence on your spouse. Not a letter, not a piece of mail, no sign of a tail—nothing.

He begins the drive back from the countryside, somewhere about an hour out of town where none of the trigger pulls would be heard. His eyes are glued to the unpaved road in front of him, as usual. One hand on the top of the wheel, and the other taking up the entirety of his center console, leaving you little room to breathe.

“I’d say, you’re ready to carry one.” Simon’s words nab your attention. “Just don’t shoot at me again, or you’re shit out of luck.”

You don’t doubt the power of carrying, but it’s new nonetheless.

Perhaps his harsh feedback held weight, and you ‘might’ have a chance in hell of defending yourself. Might—as in, nearly none at all.

Thank the stars for that insufferable prick, then, because whether you want to admit it or not, his services are needed.

—

The weight of the piece is something you’ll have to get used to.

You refused the hip holster, to Simon’s annoyance, of course. Instead, it’s going to remain tucked into your waistband, the icy metal of the .38 revolver digging into the soft flesh of your tailbone.

He’s in the shower now, where he usually spends about two minutes anyways, despite you packing now. Bullets were your words now, if necessary. This situation was past legalities, or forms, or numbing and intrusive questions in the courtroom.

Three sharp pounds on the front door, and you’re already at your feet. The shower shuts off, and Simon has walked out with a towel concealing his waist and already started for the door.

“Wait.” You’re looking through the peephole only greeted with the sight of a badge and an impatient officer. Simon steps back a bit, watching the encounter from the hallway as droplets run down his frame.

Once you’ve opened the door, the officer holds out some sort of form. The prospect of an officer at your door has prevented you from hearing his introduction or caring to take a look at the badge. The only words that find you are ‘husband’ and ‘defamation’.

He doesn’t bother to let you respond, just shoves the form onto the entry table and gives Simon a sickened glare. At first glance, probably thinking Simon is your side piece showering off after a night of adultery.

The officer has retreated down the steps of the complex, leaving you unable to process anything. Simon doesn’t say a word, just retreats to his room to finish dressing, as if there wasn’t almost a dead cop laying in the foyer.

Your hands shiver as you skim through the document, seated at the kitchen table. You couldn’t believe the bastard—cops and judges already on his payroll, coming up with some bogus claim of defamation—all while you’re left with no evidence of the latter.

He’s returned quickly, resting his palms on the table as he soaks in the information. “You’re not going to that trial.” The paper is taken from your fingers, forcing you out of your discomposure.

“I’ll go to prison if I don’t show, Simon.” You respond quickly, wondering what the hell he’s getting you roped into.

“No, you’ll be dead.” He leads, the palms on the table turning to tight fits. “Once you’re in the courtroom, he’ll have access to you, or whatever shitty motel you’ll be staying in for months. You’re not going.” His commands are nearing that of a hardened soldier.

“This is my life you’re talking about. I can’t just pack up and run from the federal government. He’s not going to kill me, he’s going to try and put me in jail, then throw away the key.” Your tone has heightened, but his hasn’t.

He takes a few steps back from the table as if trying not to blow his top. “You’re hiding out in a shitty apartment, sobbing in the middle of supermarkets, and you’re confident in that assessment?”

“If he wanted you in jail, he would’ve planted evidence on you. I’ll repeat myself. You’re not going.” Simon sighs sharply, trying to calm himself again. “We need to get out of this apartment for now, before more police poke around and find you packing heat.”

The lack of decor, luggage still in the corner, non-perishables you’d bought—all for the inevitable moment he finds you. That moment was here, and now you were packing it all away. Somehow the place looked less pitiful with it all packed away and stuffed into his backseat.

—

You were somewhere in the countryside, only in the opposite direction of the shooting range you were at that morning. He hadn’t stopped once during the long ride and wasn’t planning to. You were in a small town before you knew it—someplace you’d never heard of, and probably with a population that doesn’t reach triple digits.

The barren landscape you were passing in the near forties seemed to continue forever. The endless crop and winding paths would provide cover, but the scenarios playing in your head depicted worse.

The entirety of the town was in a cluster—a few gas pumps, a motel, a pharmacy, and a diner—all of which much older than you’d been alive, visibly decaying under years of neglect.

His truck rolled to a stop, parking in the empty lot of the motel. You two seemed to be the only ones rooming in this apocalyptic townlet, and you were grateful for that, at least. He retreated into the office and returned holding a key to your room.

You climbed out, retrieving the duffel that had your entire life packed into it. His bag of weapons was slung over his shoulder, and he carried it as if the weight had no effect. He’d stayed quiet the whole trip, and it continued well into entering the shared space.

Two beds, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. Nicer than you expected, albeit the exterior painted a different picture earlier.

Your stiff limbs freed themselves when you sprawled out on the bed you claimed, remaining in disbelief of the situation at hand. You were on the run again, but this time not from him—from the law. How long could this go on? Living in motels, with an overbearing male roommate? Especially one without a sense of humor; the spiteful cherry on top.

He closed the curtains with a jerk, forcing you to stare at the dated floral pattern they had, instead of the secluded view outside. There was no time for error, especially when it was someone other than the law to figure out you’d skipped town.

Just when you’ve begun to close your eyes, he’s loudly rifling through the luggage sitting on the floor, muttering curses under his breath. You sit up in bed in a huff, glaring into his back. Finally, he pulls out the bottle of Kentucky, pouring himself a generous glass, before thumping it down onto the faux-granite counter.

“Seriously?” You sigh, sitting yourself up on your arms.

He takes a few seconds, savoring the burn running down his throat. “Gonna need it. Helps me focus.”

“We’ll need to pick up a few things at that pharmacy, so get up.” There’s no chance in hell he’s leaving you here alone, despite the store only being a few blocks away. Bickering only greeted you with an icy glare, so you grumbled to your feet, slipping into the jacket you’d removed only minutes before.

In usual fashion, he’s a few steps behind you, watching the few people that are out and about at the moment, most of which are retirement age.

You’re inside the pharmacy now, practically tapping your foot at him as he grabs the supplies you two might need. More non-perishables as well as a small kit used for camping. It was clear to you this little “road trip” wasn’t going to end soon—and he was quite used to being on the run.

As soon as he’s placed the bills on the checkout counter, you’ve exited the store, nearly skipping back to his truck. He begins the short drive back, but his eyes keep darting between the rearview mirror and over his shoulder.

“We have a tail.” He snarls, continuing to divert further from town. “I’m gonna make sure we lose it.”

His words make your hairs stand, whatever the hell he meant by that was nothing pretty. He was getting further from town, so whatever his plans were needed absolutely no witnesses.

“Gun?” You ask, looking over your shoulder at the black Mercedes creeping closer.

He nods, still frantically assessing his four corners. The road signs have disappeared again, and you’re back to crops and trucking warehouses. You lift yourself off the seat a bit, retrieving the revolver you previously had tucked away. You check the cylinder, indeed seeing six bullets loaded inside—bullets he’d filed X’s into the tips himself—they “blew a nastier hole” that way, according to him.

It’s in your lap now, as you bounce around from his speed increase. The tail does the same, nearly bumper to bumper with his trunk now. Simon diverts, trying to ensure it can’t clip it, but the unpaved road before you is already unsteady enough when you’re going straight.

The Mercedes clips into the side of his truck, but the size difference between the cars only causes it to swerve. Simon turns abruptly, making the tail believe he’s taking a right. In reality, he swerves left, causing the confused driver to go straight into the metal fence lining the road.

You only see the wreckage briefly; crushed hood, steam rising from the hood, and no further movement from the driver.

He slams the brakes, pulling off to the side. He pulls out his much larger caliber pistol, slamming the truck door behind him. He’s gone to make sure he finishes the job.

Your fingers find the lock button, about to hear that click, when the passenger door is whipped open, and you’re face down in the gravel before you know it. Your gun is askew somewhere, having been ripped from your hands.

The assailant's fingers dig into your scalp, forcing you to kneel on the sharp pebbles. He’s surely one of the men your husband hired. His nose is busted, and there are small shards of glass embedded in his face that he’s too determined to mind.

This was the moment fate caught up with you, just like you’d thought it would. Either with you dead in your apartment, or staring down the barrel of a gun like you are now—disarmed and on your knees execution-style.

He cocks it, pressing the metal into your temple.

The unmistakable crack of a gunshot echoes through the countryside, causing both of you to jump in surprise. Had Simon been ambushed? Was he already bleeding out in the dirt?

He seems to think the same, a lordly smirk spreading, revealing his bloodied teeth. You snap your eyes to the stars above you. His leer is not going to be the last thing you see—the night sky would be.

The ring in your ears is louder than the gunshot itself. Warm sprinkles have splattered across you now, dripping down your neck. But you’re not dead. Not clenching a bullet hole either. You have to look down to be sure, examining your body with sanguine hands.

Instead, it’s the man with a hole in his head crumbled in front of you, still your pistol in his dead fingers. The ringing subsides, but your eardrums are muffled slightly like you’ve just had your head underwater.

“Bastard got me,” Simon stumbles back, making you sigh in relief, “—came out of the fuckin’ backseat, didn’t see him.” He’s sputtering, putting a flat palm against the stab wounds on his stomach, while the other is against the door of the truck.

You use the truck for support as well, feeling the stray pebbles that were still digging into your knees, not to mention the crimson seeping into the fabric of your clothes, sticking to you. You snatch your pistol back, stuffing it back into your waistband.

He’s barely upright now. An uncanny sight at best, seeing him struggle to hold his own weight.

“We need to… Clean this up…” He takes his palm off the truck, but it’s returned when he nearly stumbles again. He’s fighting himself, forcing himself to be the one in charge here. Simon glowers down at his abdomen, lifting the saturated fabric. It’s worse than you expected, not in the deepness of the punctures, but how much blood he lost in the scuffle.

You can tell he wants to speak, to give you some sort of instruction, but the pants coming from him are too severe. He slides down the truck, leaning against the large tire for support. He’s gone even paler than usual—you can tell through the eyes of his mask.

His chest is rising and falling rapidly, at least. But it won’t be soon if you don’t do something.

It’s a blur; grunting and using all your might to put the dead man into the bed of the truck. You open the door to the backseat, finding the foil blanket in the camping kit Simon bought. You cover the bed, so his corpse looks like nothing more than a lump of firewood, or hay, or something other than what it is.

The skinny flashlight finds its way between your teeth, as you scoop and kick the dirt around to cover up the blood. The storm clouds forming are your only hope of washing away any evidence of this bloodbath. You shine the light on the side of the car, where some of the splatter had cast. You wipe it away with your sleeve, leaving only small traces of it.

Finally, it shined on him. A half-conscious Simon, who you can barely lift into the truck. He gives a little way, but your arms are putty by the end of the ordeal. He’s slumped in the seat, and you haven’t bothered to buckle him in.

You climb inside the driver’s seat, reversing quickly to make it back to the motel. The lack of guests will make patching him up easier, but the prospect of what unfolded is not providing much comfort. You’re speeding down the strip of unpaved road, eventually greeted by the few street lights illuminating the town.

You slow when you reach the parking space, claiming the one directly across from your room, so transporting Simon is easier. Luckily, the few residents that live there have retreated in for the night, leaving no prying eyes around.

You palm his pockets, locating the room key. There’s no time for slippery fingers or trembling hands. You make way for yourself and him by opening the door first, then pulling him out of the truck. He’s putting as much weight on himself as he can, but you’re left to do most of the literal heavy lifting.

Simon was otiosely dropped onto his bed, left to writhe only for a few seconds while you grabbed the rest of the camping kit from the backseat. When you return and lock the doors behind you, you’re quick to dig through the luggage for pieces of clothing. Ones you can put underneath his torso to prevent the mess his wounds are going to make.

You fish the knife he kept in his pocket out, cutting through the soaked t-shirt fabric. It glides off easily, allowing your amateur eyes to feast on the punctures. They aren’t deep, clearly not done with enough force to do serious internal damage, but there’s enough for the blood loss to be his biggest problem.

Simon must’ve finished him off before he could rough him up more—you could tell by how jagged the last stab was—like the man’s blade had been ripped away hastily.

“The bourbon…” He murmurs, bringing the bottle to your attention. Something you’ll be able to use. The self-medication that was slowly killing him might just be his saving grace.

You zip to the counter, unscrewing the cap from the bottle. He nods his head, bracing himself like he���s been through his a hundred times. He probably has, for all you know. The fawn-tinted liquid sizzles at his wounds, both disinfecting and irritating the reddened, puffy flesh.

He’s gritting his teeth under the mask, clenching one of the towels you laid out for dear life. Still, handling the pain better than you expected. You, on the other hand, were minutes from spewing.

The blood was coming out faster than you could keep up with, and no matter how many times you dug through that camping kit, it was only small bandages and ointment. You had no choice, you had to get to that pharmacy.

First, you’re hunched over the sink, scrubbing away the crimson coating you. You take off your jacket, ridding yourself of your bloodied clothes. One of his hoodies will have to do, and it will cover the remnants remaining in your hair. From how squeamish the sight was making you, you could swear you were paler than the man actively bleeding out.

Next, you’re out the door again, darting down the slick streets. Those storm clouds you saw earlier had begun to rain down on you. Good for the crime scene miles away, but not for your joints. That taste of blood, pinching in your side as you forced yourself to keep going, closing in on the pharmacy eventually.

Heaving in the first-aid aisle, grabbing any sterile gauze you see, then a box of gloves. Of course, the selection is limited. The townsfolk probably aren’t playing mob doctor like you are right now.

Once you’ve made uneducated guesses on what to get, it’s like you’re reminded of the dying man in your hotel room. There’s no time to pay, and no active cameras—no time to question the logistics of it all. Besides, the geriatric clerk barely gave you a passing glance when you stormed inside.

You’re out the back door, looping around the building until you’re back on the sidewalk again, racing with the supplies hooked under your arm. You’ve only been away minutes, but those were precious minutes where he could’ve hemorrhaged even more.

The rain putters heavily, coating your lashes like it did in the parking lot of the supermarket, daring you to stumble in disorientation.

You fiddle with the key, nearly kicking the door down when it struggles. It gives way eventually, and you’ve slammed it, already sitting on the edge of the bed. He kept a hand on his wounds while you were away, luckily, but he’s starting to slip again.

You peel Simon’s large fingers away, then look at the supplies before you. You rush to the sink and sterilize your fingers, darting your gaze from the sink back to him.

You look down at it—the engagement ring you haven’t been able to take off all this time.

“Fuck it.” You mutter, tearing it off your finger. It clatters somewhere in the sink, and you leave it there to get back to Simon. You tear the cardboard encasing the gloves, slipping them onto your trembling fingers—partially from the cold rain, as well as the know-nothing decisions you’re going to make to treat him.

Stitches are out of the question, so you’re going to have to pack the wounds—something you've seen on a medical show once. You unravel the roll of gauze, cutting off small sections of it with the knife, and then get to work.

He’s lucky he’s knocked out because he’d probably cringing right now—from your medical care, not your fingers digging around at his wounds.

You loop the bandage around your index finger, trying to recall the steps. You push it deep enough to prevent it from bleeding through, stuffing the gashes in a zig-zag pattern. One by one, you move to the next wound until they’re all packed.

If these stabs had been any deeper, there would be two bodies in the bed of the truck right now—one of which would be the owner. Opportunely, they hadn’t bled through the gauze so far.

The exhaustion caught up with you quickly, but you were determined to keep an eye on him. Without him, you were screwed, plain and simple. He wasn’t going to die and leave you with this unexplainable mess, one that he got you into when he took you on this hellacious joyride.

—

You must’ve dozed sometime in the night because the sunrise was peaking through the gaps of the curtains when your eyes opened. Not to mention, Simon was shoving you away from him, grunting as he was finally able to sit up.

He peered down at the evidence of the unpractised medical attention you’d given him. His fingers found the bottle of Kentucky still on the nightstand, and he took a slug from it, feeling the tension release a little bit.

The sight of the room surprised him a bit—the medical supplies and luggage thrown around, the clothing laid out below him, and not to mention the blood still dried on your fingers.

He finds his footing, despite the frazzled expression you’re maintaining. He’s been here before, in fact, been closer to death many times. This was nothing to Simon—“just a scratch” as he’d say. He grabs one of the only clean shirts left, slipping it on to cover himself.

After he’s taken another drink, he turns to you, standing above you with authority. This was no longer a game of cat and mouse, it was past that now. He had bigger problems, like the corpse in the bed of his truck, and the prospect of more of those men coming.

He finally finds the words when he sees you’re no longer wearing your ring. “What’s this bloke's name, the one who sent his dogs on us?”

You shake your head in confusion, but his clenched jaw is persistent and only going tighter. You’re forced to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You, too, can tell things are changing, and it’s become more personal for Simon than he’d like to admit.

 You utter his name, as he’s forced you to reveal it. “Cal. His name is Cal.”

He takes a sharp inhale, taking in the information. The hands that were resting at his sides have now turned to fits. “After we take care of that problem in the back of my truck, we’re gonna find this bastard.” You could swear steam would be coming out of his ears by now.

He grabs his truck keys off the table and starts towards the door, growling something under his breath that you didn’t make out,

“I’m gonna find this bastard…”

TAGLIST: @random-thot-generator @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @illyanam1011

#mw2 fanfic #mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #ghost mw2 #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst

[xjulixred45x]

OKAY! I HAVE SUCCUMBED TO THE VOICES OF MY LATEST HYPERFIXATION: LEGO MONKEY KID! UNTIL I SATISFY THEM I WON'T BE ABLE TO WORK ON ANY REQUEST! Get ready for the most absurd rants you've ever heard about Jttw, lmk AND EPIC THE MUSICAL! YOU ARE WARNED!

I find it somewhat funny how the vast majority of adaptations of Sun Wukong leave out that the Monkey King HAD A WIFE. a fucking wife that he KIDNAPPED AND FORCED TO BECOME HIS BRIDE.

She literally appears singing about this :'D before Nezha and his father rescue her.

and while I was learning about this, I couldn't help but think about the songs from Calypso, from Epic: the Musical (another recent hyperfixation) and in some way relate it to Monkey Kid.

after all, LMK's Wukong knows that the things he did when he was young were QUESTIONABLE to say the least (he literally said it) and that he regrets many things, and I wondered what his dynamic would have been like in that case with Jiaozi (his "wife ").

and that is precisely why I relate it to Love in Paradise in a certain way.

Like, we know that this Wukong definitely had good intentions, which were initially driven by good reasons, but which became more and more selfish, so here perhaps he could have brought Jiaozi to Flower Fruit Mountain as a direct response to 1- monkey logic + 2- after his trip to the west he needed a way to deal with loneliness and 3- demonic courtship is WILD.

Anyway, I can see this more (ONLY IN LMK) as a response to mourning and handling loss (the Brotherhood? Macaque? is up to your interpretation) and that he really doesn't know how to manage/communicate his emotions in a healthy way.

Imagine being Jiaozi, being taken from your comfortable princess life overnight, waking up in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE with a monkey man who is too... friendly to be a kidnapper?

Like, lmk's Wukong acts just like Calypso, with a lot of familiarity, his normal confident post-trip to the West self, explains the situation to Jiaozi (but in a much friendlier way than it really is) and she's like "uh HELL NO" but there really isn't much to do against the literal Monkey King, THE SAGE, THE EQUAL TO HEAVEN, and poor Jiaozi is having a full-blown crisis while Wukong doesn't understand why she's so distraught, don't she understand him? They have everything they want and need in the mountains!

Ironically other texts also described Wukong as a "spoiling husband who gave a lot of clothes/food/things to his wife" and that was probably the route he took after the beginning, Wukong has a lot of trash, but he was more than willing to share with Jiaozi as long as she was happy, that she wanted him back...love him Back.

He JUST doesn't understand the seriousness of the matter that KIDNAPPING YOUR SPOUSE REALLY IS...until Nezha and His Father come along.

Now, I don't think Wukong is stupid even before that happens, he would see Jiaozi's clear anguish, her sadness, the desire to return to her old life with her family, and although he consoles her and such, he is having a crisis, This is supposed to be normal, right? So why does he feel so bad when he sees her so distressed?

The glass fills slowly but surely.

I don't think he was a bad husband Per se, like I said, he was very pampering and such (maybe even Jiaozi sees him in a certain positive light, even if not as a husband, because of his good deeds of the past), but he had a big problem with taking things too lightly and not dealing adequately with his emotions.

so when he receives the ultimatum from Nezha and company, he has a very Im not Sorry for Loving You moment.

in which he does just that, he explains to Jiaozi that he let her go with Nezha, that he regrets having made her go through all this just out of selfish fear, and he very much regrets not regretting loving her even so (many years of being alone screwed him up a little head, so this type of interaction definitely marked his isolation even more in the future).

Even if in lmk Jiaozi doesn't keep track of him or anything like that, she makes it clear to him that she couldn't love him the way he wants her to love him. and it hurts, but it hurts good. because he learns from it.

(PS, it would be quite ironical if this Jiaozi marry Nezha of all people lol)

waaaaaaa I just love finding parallels between my hyperfixations, I will soon publish another one, but it will be much fluffier and from this same fandom.

(the songs that give the idea)

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

#drabbles #jttw sun wukong #jttw au #jttw #jttw media #jttw monkey king #lego monkie kid #lego monkey kid sun wukong #lmk #lmk sun wukong #tw kidnapping #i mean he was not exactly malicious #but HELLA incensitive #even if he tryed his best #jiaozi #the poor woman #she would be like “the shit i get into” after realizing WHO HE IS #epic the musical #calypso #SoundCloud

[starkerscoop]

Cupid Personified

Posting this for the @starkerfestivals Secret Starker Valentine's event.

For my giftee, @taruchinator :) I hope you like it!

Prompt: Peter is Morgan's kindergarten teacher and Tony is just smitten with the guy. Morgan, thinking she's helping her dad out, asks him to buy her flowers and chocolates for Valentine's Day, claiming it's for her classmates. Turns out the little devil just straight up walks to Peter and goes “my daddy thinks you're cute!” and hands him all the stuff. Embarrassment and shenanigans ensue, but yeah, wingman Morgan for the win. "

Tony slammed on the brakes, his hands tightening instinctively on the wheel as his car jerked to a stop. School drop-off was always challenging. How could it not be, when his eyes won’t stop straying? He averted his gaze from Mr. Parker, who was turning with furrowed brows, likely trying to figure out whose parent was incapable of driving in a parking lot. 

He let out a heavy sigh once Mr. Parker returned his attention to the students streaming through the gates of the school. What was wrong with him? Pining after his daughter’s teacher like a fool. He wasn’t sure when exactly this obsession started; all he knew was that every time he laid eyes on Mr. Parker, his heart made a funny stutter and scared him into thinking it was failing. 

“Daddy?” 

The telltale wobble in Morgan’s voice was the only clue Tony needed to understand she was upset. Alarmed, he glanced over his shoulder to take in her watering eyes.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he asked calmly. 

No reason to set her off further. He’d noticed over time that she tended to base her reactions off his, so if he was worried, she would be too. 

“We didn’t bring anything for Valentine’s Day,” she said anxiously. “Mr. P wanted everyone to bring something so we could have a party.” 

Tony ran a hand down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” 

He couldn’t count the number of times they’d run into the same issue with last minute projects that consisted more of his work than her’s. 

“I forgot,” Morgan confessed, “but I didn’t mean to! Can you bring some flowers and chocolate?” 

Tony checked his watch. He was already running late to a board meeting, why not make them wait longer? It was worth it to make his daughter happy. 

“Go to class. I’ll bring something,” Tony said, watching her smile grow, “but I want you to tell me these things in advance from now on. Capiche?” 

“Capiche,” she echoed. “Thanks Daddy!” 

Tony reached over the console and helped her unbuckle her belt. He unlocked the car door and kept his eyes trained on her as she skipped towards the gates. She’d cheered up awfully fast for someone who’d been so downcast just a moment ago. 

Interesting. 

Once she made it safely through the gates, he left the parking lot and drove to the nearest store he could find. Once he went in, he took his time perusing the aisles, ignoring the judgmental looks he could feel being directed at him by others. He knew how it looked—like he was a bad spouse doing last minute shopping for his partner. 

He picked out enough chocolate to send thirty children into a sugar high. He didn’t envy Mr. Parker, who would undoubtedly have to deal with more chaos than Tony faced as Iron Man. Tony sent him a mental apology as he paid for his armful of chocolate and flowers; he’d gotten one flower for each child. 

After stuffing everything into his car, Tony made the drive back to Morgan’s school. He parked as close as he could get to the entrance and wandered in with his gifts back in his arms. He hastily signed in at the reception before making his way to Morgan’s classroom. He knocked on the door as a warning before stepping in. 

The moment he went in, he realized that the knock was completely unnecessary, because there was absolutely no way Mr. Parker heard it. The children were already having fun, the Valentine’s Day party underway with music playing from the speakers as they folded bits of paper into hearts. 

Mr. Parker had his back turned to the door. He was helping a boy make his heart. Tony caught Morgan’s eye and beckoned her over with a nod. She bounded toward him cheerfully, taking everything from his arms with a small “Thanks!” and marching toward Mr. Parker before he could utter a word. 

Tony trailed behind her, laughing to himself at her determination. She tapped Mr. Parker on the arm, who turned to her with a kind smile, his eyes widening when he spotted all her gifts.

“My daddy thinks you’re cute!” she announced, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and suddenly it all made sense. 

They didn’t have to bring anything. Tony’d always known that Morgan was observant, but he never thought his attraction to Mr. Parker was so obvious she could pick up on it, let alone act on it. He was briefly concerned about how well she’d played him earlier this morning with the fake tears, but that concern rapidly made way for embarrassment, which wasn’t an emotion he was used to having. 

Mr. Parker’s cheeks bloomed. “These are very pretty flowers.” 

They were. And Tony had bought thirty of them. How must that look to Mr. Parker?

“What can I say?” Tony asked, regaining his voice. “I like pretty things.” 

He shot a wink at Mr. Parker, who seemed to turn impossibly redder. Morgan clapped her hands excitedly before jetting off to her friends, leaving them alone. There was something triumphant in her grin. 

“Well, I…appreciate all of this, Mr. Stark,” Mr. Parker finally said. “Thank you.” 

Tony waved off the thanks. “Please, call me Tony.” 

“Thank you, Tony,” Mr. Parker repeated, a bashful smile creeping onto his face. “You can call me Peter.” 

Tony tucked his hands into his pockets. “Are you doing anything today, Peter?” 

“You mean aside from watching a bunch of hyperactive kids?” Peter joked. 

Tony laughed, tilting his head back. “Aside from that, yes.” 

“I was going to binge watch Star Wars and drink cheap wine. I’m sure your plans are a lot more interesting,” Peter said. 

Tony shrugged. “They will be if you allow me to join you.” 

“Oh!” Peter’s eyes widened. “I’d like that. If you’re sure.” 

His cheeks were turning red again, and Tony had to fight the urge to trace his thumb over them. He kept his hands rooted firmly in his pockets. 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

#starker #ironspider #starkerscoopwrites #SFSecretStarker24

[heartfullofleeches]

Do you think Remmy would be a good father with his devotion to caring for small adorable creatures?

Remmy would definitely be up there in the rankings for father of the year out of my OCS...... After his Darling is able to get him to breathe for a minute.

Stresses himself to the point of being short for breath when Darling first brings up the idea of kids. They want to raise a child with him of all people? He's so accident prone there's no way the kid would turn out okay.....But, it's not like he'd alone in raising them - Darling is with him... and if they're with him there's a chance things won't turn out so bad. Plus, think about all the adorable outfits he could make for them and their family as a whole. Starting a family with Darling sounds nice....

Remmy would struggle a bit as any new parent would, but no matter what he would always want them to feel loved and valued. As mentioned a second ago, Remmy would make majority of their clothing starting out with a blanket like his mom had made for him and his grandmother for her. He's on the fence about stitching their given name into it encase they decided to change it later on in lige as they're figuring out who they are as a person, but let's Darling have the final say.

His separation anxiety would lead to him never wanting to leave their side. Has to be dragged out to door by his Darling whenever they have a night out for themselves and they leave the kid with relatives/close friends. Has to know a babysitter's blood type before they even see a picture of his precious child. Always let's them know how much they're loved whenever he's forced to part with them and that he won't be gone for long. Never, ever says goodbye since it's too permanent of a word for him.

-

"Dad will be home in a couple hours. See you later, okay?"

"Bye-Bye!"

"...."

Remy's Spouse (Darling) has to console a weeping Remiel in the car on their way to their anniversary dinner. "Don't cry, Rem. I'm sure it's just something their teacher taught them."

"They already grew out of their little birthday outfit I made for them two weeks ago.... They're growing up too fast.... Can we have another one?"

#Remmy my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb

[greatbritishsimchallenge]

That night, Maggie cried while Frankie attempted to console her.

"Ignore them! They're just being so sour because they've forgotten how good cake tastes. If they knew, they'd eat so much they'd end up the fattest nobles in all England!" insisted Frankie.

"It's not about that! I don't care about cake! It was a stupid second of superficial gluttony and now it is costing me my future reputation as the Lady of Newcrest and my soul's place in eternal paradise! What if word gets out that I am a glutton? Who will marry me then?"

"Someone with some common sense!" Frankie replied.

Maggie sighed, "You still don't get it."

"I don't, Mags, I really don't. When I age up, I'm not going to care if I am the size of a waif or a whale. That stuff doesn't matter. You're a good person and that's what matters. Any Lord who cannot see that is not worth being with anyway."

Maggie sniffed and wiped her eyes, "You sound like Peggy."

Frankie suddenly felt deeply uncomfortable and shifted topic: "Besides, I don't think you should even get married -"

"Frankie", complained Maggie, "Don't start all that again."

"What do you need a spouse for? You saw Peggy's marriage - she was the smartest, most beautiful, most brilliant woman on the planet and her husband did nothing but cause her trouble! Then she has a baby, and what happens? Dead! You don't need any of that."

Maggie did not reply, but continued preparing herself for bed. Frankie's anti-marriage lectures had become so regular that they were practically part of the night-time routine.

"I say we both forget getting married. We wait for mama to pass so you're the Lady of Newcrest and then we ditch all of this and go see the world. You'll have all the money for us to buy a ship and hire a crew and go on endless adventures!"

"I don't want endless adventure!" snapped Maggie. "I want to be a good leader of Newcrest and a true follower of the Pure Faith. That means staying here and doing what is right for my lands and the people I lead. I'm tired of you bugging me with these childish dreams. I cannot wait for your birthday so you can grow up and understand the world as I do!"

As Maggie got into bed, pulled the covers over her head and returned to crying under the covers, Frankie crossed her arms in a huff. She did not bother to continue her argument with Maggie, but she wanted to retort that she would never understand the world as her mama and Maggie did, no matter how old she was.

Start (Iron Age) | Start (Roman Britain) | Start (Anglo Saxon) | Start (Medieval) | Start (Tudor) | Start (Stuart)

Previous | Next

#sims 4 history challenge #great british sim challenge

[the-daiz]

Where I stand | Kaeya

Genre: hurt/comfort, angst

Pairing: Kaeya x sibling!reader

Younger sibling reader

Warning(s): Diluc backstory spoilers, um, running away?

Side note: inspired by: In a house, Not a home. I rushed this ☹️ hope y'all enjoy

Posted on: 2/ August/ 2022 (oh my god its already August????)

Day 3. Today marks the third day of your escape. Your escape from the shackles of the warm abode you once called 'home'. Dawn winery, the house you lived in with your family, your caring father, and your two much older brothers, who both adored you more than anything else. That house is the chamber of your childhood memories, holding the most sacred and secular reminisces of the joyful past with your dear spouses.

Now that place was no longer home, it didn't feel like home anymore, only a lavish prison where all you did was cry in your lonesome bed. There was no loving father there to console you anymore. Oh, how you wished he'd suddenly appear out of thin air and offer solace. Pull you into his chest and hug you tightly while his gentle hand combed through your hair. Hushing you and whispering words of reassurance in your ear, not letting you out of his embrace until you've finally calmed down. Like he always did, like he always used to do.

It wasn't only your father who had disappeared. But your brothers as well. As you wept and wailed in his bed after witnessing his death, Diluc and Kaeya were out in the rain, surrounded by the gloomy forest and a suffocating atmosphere. The menacing glares they exchanged radiated a call for battle, urging them to draw their blades and end this fateful night with a signature occasion of despair and sheer regret.

It was only Diluc who returned back home that night. You hadn't the slightest clue where Kaeya went, however, you knew he was gone, you knew he had left, and you knew that you weren't going to see him for a good, long while.

Then it was Diluc's turn to walk out the door, to seemingly vanish from your home. From your life. You didn't even get the chance to exchange a brief glance with each other, and he had already bid his farewells to Mondstate. Leaving you. Alone.

You had practically lost your whole family that dreading night, a night where you all were supposed to be celebrating Diluc's coming of age together.

Elzer, Adeline, and the staff were much too busy taking care of the work Crepus had left behind and had little to no time to comfort you. Though, they did feel immense pity for you, having your life fall to shambles at such a young age... They couldn't even hope to imagine how you felt. So they tried to shower you with gifts instead, but it did nothing, all the gifts were left untouched at the foot of your bed, long forgotten.

You had spent most of your time in your father's room, sleeping on his bed and sobbing into his pillows, trying to convince yourself that he wasn't dead, that it was all but a long night terror. Alas, no matter how hard you tried to fool yourself, the fact still stood that he was gone.

You wanted to leave your house, it felt suffocating, it reminded you of the old days, when everything was fine. When you all lived happily together. It felt agonizing. But you weren't allowed to, Adeline had made it painfully clear. She was scared you might get hurt all on your own, and there was no one to accompany you. You tried to stifle your desire to leave by walking around the city of Mondstate, but it only made the ache in your heart worsen, with the way everyone glanced at you with sorrow flashing in their gaze, murmuring and Whispering words of pity amongst themselves. What made you shutter, however, was Kaeya's obvious and desperate attempts to avoid you. You really had lost everything.

That was the day you decided to put an end to your drowning. The day you decided to run away.

Now you sat down on the moist grass, your back against a sturdy tree as you examined the forest beyond the cliff. Capturing virtual images of every detail you eyed. The pigeon huddled with its children on a branch. How one of the branches on a tree was twisted unusually, resembling a heart. A group of three knights with oil lamps clutched in their probably cold hands, using the illuminating light as a guide to look for something someone.

You leaned your head back against the tree and smiled to yourself, relishing in the soft breeze brushing against your face. Those three tranquil days you spent venturing around the layouts of your home region, running around freely, and sleeping under the watchful gaze of the moon, were the best three days you've ever experienced in your life.

You couldn't feel the invisible hands squeezing your throat anymore. You felt like you could breathe again. You finally felt free.

"Excuse me?" A bright light shined from behind you, inching closer, in sync with the loud footsteps. You knew who it was, and you didn't mind. It was time for you to return anyway, you'll get another chance like this soon, you were certain.

"Yes?" You murmured, peering up at the tall Knight who now stood beside you, raising his lamp high, hence to get a clear look at your features.

"Are you (Y/n) Ragnvindr, by any chance?" He asked. After a few moments of wordless staring, you spoke, tearing your eyes away from the Knight's curious stare to look across the luscious green field one last time.

"Yes."

--

It was quiet. Eerily quiet. You're not sure what you had expected from the residence of the knights of Favonius, but you hadn't thought it would be so void of sound, especially these troublesome days where monsters were at every corner of the land.

You let out a soft exhale as you waited for something to happen. The same tall knight that found you earlier was now sitting before you, glancing at you from time to time.

"Um... when do I get to leave?" You muttered, wrapping the blanket tighter around you.

"A carriage is coming to escort you back home, soon." He replied, sending you a curt nod. You hesitantly nodded back, peering over at the office's window. 

You both snapped your head in the direction of the door when you heard the sound of the main doors slam open, followed by frantic footsteps approaching master Jean's office, the one you currently sat in. The knight stood up with his hand clutching the heft of his sword.

The door slammed open, revealing a panic-looked Kaeya, panting heavily with lines of sweat tainting his face. Once he locked eyes with you, he leaped forward and wrapped his arms around you, securing you in a captivating hug. Your eyes dilated as he squeezed you tight.

"Oh my god. You're ok. You're ok. Thank Barbatos you're ok." He whispered, cradling your head with one of his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Your arms slowly raised to reciprocate the gesture, your eyes now brimming with tears.

"I'm sorry I worried you." Your voice wavered.

"Don't apologize, please don't apologize." He inhaled sharply. "Just... don't scare me like that again."

#daisy loves platonic love #i love sibling dynamics #daisy loves kaeya #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #platonic kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader platonic #kaeya x sibling reader #kaeya and reader #ITS ONLY YOUUUU AND MEEEEEE ALWAYSSSS AND FOR-EV-ER #hurt/comfort #kaeya fanfic #kaeya genshin impact #ragnvindr reader #L-H/C #diluc #Crepus #diluc ragnvindr

[incognito-lionbeast]

Part One? Yeah, part one. This keeps getting longer and I want to post more than just snippets. aaaaaaaa

Anyway, Moshang Wedding minific, let’s go. ————————————

Don’t eat or drink anything that you didn’t bring yourself. That was the first rule of many Shang Qinghua set for himself, figuring that—because demons were immune to most average poisons—they’d just love to try it out on him instead. After all, he was so wonderfully poisonable. An easy target, a method not immediately suspicious. Still, Shang Qinghua longed for the food he’d so diligently wedding-planned there to be. Oh well. There were snacks hidden in the great, fur-lined cloak of his wedding ensemble — along with a dozen or so other odds and ends. It was quite heavy, actually, but necessary. 

Avoiding members of Mobei-Jun’s court as much as possible, Shang Qinghua occasionally kicked himself for so enthusiastically agreeing that they ought to be wed properly (and not take the easy way out like Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu had). Properly as per demon tradition, as per demon royalty tradition. Having survived courtship til this point, Shang Qinghua’s final test of worthiness was to survive the wedding. After all, how could one be a good spouse to such a powerful demon lord if they couldn’t handle a little attempted assassination? Ugh, why’d he have to write demons like this, huh?! Mobei-Jun wasn’t even allowed to help him, either!

No demons were. Yet, rules written by demons for demons often overlooked one little detail…

They said nothing of human help.

As such, perched near his soon-to-be-husband in a relatively secure location, Shang Qinghua greedily fished into his cloak for a treat. Liu Qingge had arrived. Along with him came Yue Qingyuan and a few other Peak Lords, but they were far less important to his schemes. Not even Shen Qingqiu—who’d appeared some time earlier with Luo Binghe—could measure up to the usefulness of the hot-headed Bai Zhan Peak Lord. Despite himself and his nerves, Shang Qinghua’s face split into a Cheshire grin, hurriedly shoveling the rest of his food into his mouth so he could use it to greet the new arrivals with gusto.

Ahhh, his savior. His champion in fine, lustrous silk!

Liu Qingge, on the other hand, was far less enthusiastic to see him. Or much of anyone else there, really. His expression remained a fixed, neutral scowl, even as it startled upon the veiled silhouette of his sister… somehow already present and adjoined by the brash little demoness who’d attacked their mountain so many years ago. Sha Hualing’s coquettish entanglement with Liu Mingyan filled him with such vitriol that his attention near-happily snapped back to Shang Qinghua when he approached.

For the sake of the wedding—which ought to be an auspicious occasion, Yue Qingyuan had reminded him a few times while they were travelling—Liu Qingge very lightly attempted to keep his temper in check. Though, truthfully, both of them had their reservations about the union; Yue Qingyuan was simply far more kindly and patient than he. Rather, Liu Qingge’s only consolation was that Shang Qinghua explicitly hadn’t barred him from fighting if the situation presented itself, if he really couldn’t behave a moment longer.

“Zhangmen-shixiong, shidi… other shixiong.” Shang Qinghua bowed, politely greeting and being greeted by them in turn. Mobei-Jun hovered some ways away, unmoved. He nodded to their guests once out of forced courtesy and little more.

Hurrying through the remaining pleasantries, Shang Qinghua’s enthusiasm clapped Liu Qingge on the shoulder as the other Peak Lords dispersed. Normally, this sort of jovial camaraderie was reserved for heckling Shen Qingqiu, but today was special! He really owed it to Liu Qingge for making things so easy… and to Luo Binghe, for his oblivious contribution to tonight’s entertainment. His supposed refusal of a supposed courtship. 

“Please don’t hold back for my sake, Liu-shidi. Enjoy yourself.” Shang Qinghua’s voice was once again akin to a giddy, gossiping schoolgirl—and for real this time! Not just imagined by a silly, defensive Cucumber.

On the contrary, Liu Qingge bristled, removing Shang Qinghua’s hand from his person and stalking off with a snip of sarcasm. Right, I’ll definitely enjoy myself, especially as several sets of sharp demon eyes settled predatorily upon the Bai Zhan Peak Lord—and, not the least of all, including Tianlang-Jun. Albeit, that one’s contribution to the whole affair was more devilish curiosity than outright interest. Twas a shame that his son refused to accept such a fine man as his second husband. Surely, Shen Qingqiu was languishing without a third to accompany them in their nightly endeavours? Ah well.

To each their own.

— — — —

By Tianlang-Jun’s count, it had taken little more than twice an incense time for the festivity to truly begin. With all guests present and welcomed, the ceremony in all its glory could finally commence. In truth, the meat of it wasn’t all that different from a typical human wedding. Airplane, who hadn’t wanted to write anything too elaborate (given how often Bing-ge got married), had merely sprinkled a few demonic and other such eccentricities onto his world-building and called it adequate. All the better for his future self, really! The one who’d been saddled with handling most of the logistics. Familiarity was truly a godsend, especially when coupled with the pretend nonchalance of having to avoid several covert attempts on his life.

Though, that was precisely what the many strange and volatile things hidden under his cloak were for. Talismans, charms, and several other sorts of disguisable demon-preventatives and wards. Not to mention, Shang Qinghua had finally managed to remember where he’d left his sad, pathetic bastard of a sword! Though, he figured that one would be the least amount of help, but it was some small comfort. Even so… 

Thus, there was to be a grand parade of the two bridegrooms down the aisle, an exchange of vows, bows, and so on — perhaps even a passionate kiss, if Shang Qinghua had his way. Yet, that wasn’t at all the festivity Tianlang-Jun recounted when he told the story again later (and with such delight as to make anyone envious they hadn’t been able to attend). 

That adulation belonged solely to Liu Qingge.

Midway through all of the official fluff and circumstance, his patience wore so thin as to be practically see-through! He’d endured too much already. The eyes, the sharp tongues, and some ominous aura that was neither quite their usual bloodlust nor killing intent. So, what started with staring had escalated to blows, hurtling his first unlucky suitor clear across the aisle and striking any demons unfortunate enough to be standing in the way. Yet, that was only one down, several more audacious pests to go.

Shang Qinghua stifled himself inelegantly, feigning a coy sort of innocence when Mobei-Jun looked his way as if to ask: what are you planning?

Nothing, nothing. Carry on. 

In any normal sort of circumstance, Shang Qinghua would be just as offended to have his wedding—of all things!—so unceremoniously interrupted. Yet, this was not a normal circumstance, and he urged his beloved not to pay them any mind — not when another suitor hurtled past accompanied by a flurry of choice curses nor when Cheng Luan was finally unsheathed to the sound of claws clashing against steel. Of course, of course, they had to stay vigilant! Not everyone was so enthralled by his dearest Liu-shidi, but that was all the more reason to continue, right?

Don’t fret.

Besides, anyone who survived could be punished for their insolence later, if his king so insisted. In addition to that minor condolence, one look at Shang Qinghua’s chipper facade was enough to convince Mobei-Jun without even a single word of confirmation that his intended had, yes, planned this. Somehow. A little later when he was less annoyed by the impertinent chaos breaking out around them, he’d be impressed. In the meantime, however, Mobei-Jun simply relented to taking Shang Qinghua’s hand and continuing the ceremony— regardless of how few attendees were paying attention. Perhaps it was better that way.

From the sidelines, there were three major schools of thought among bystanders— A primarily demon one, considering the risk versus reward scenario of joining this brazen display of courtship (though Mobei-Jun hadn’t stopped them, either…). The second, a primarily human one, was more concerned with whether they ought to step in and help their poor, beleaguered shidi. As if he needed it, really, but it was the principle of the matter! Yet, then there was the third viewpoint. Placing a hand on Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder, Tianlang-Jun emerged from his innocuous spectatorship.

(Binghe glowered at Tianlang-Jun from his position at Shen Qingqiu’s side. He’d been dutifully ignoring his father til this very moment, preferring if he’d return to standing further away. Shen Qingqiu sympathised.)

“Now, now… Sect Leader Yue, was it?” Tianlang-Jun’s voice was low yet nonetheless amused. With no attempt to disguise his merriment, he continued, “They’re only having a bit of fun. Flirting. Unless, of course, he belongs to one of you? Then by all means—”

(Tianlang-Jun met his son’s glower with perhaps the only sort of fatherly emotion he had: an infuriating, teasing curiosity. He laughed at how seethingly blank both Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu’s responses were. Still no? Not even now? Shame, shame. Surely, it couldn’t be that Liu Qingge wasn’t impressive enough. Rather, Tianlang-Jun thought that Qingqiu seemed to enjoy him very much. Strange indeed. Then was his son the real problem? Possessive, perhaps? How silly, wasting such a wonderful opportunity…)

“I see,” Yue Qingyuan responded politely. 

Considering his next words carefully, Yue Qingyuan supposed he might as well ask while Tianlang-Jun was in a sharing mood. Another defeated suitor punctuated his decision with a loud crack, crashing into something far sturdier than them. Yue Qingyuan consoled himself with the knowledge that at least Liu Qingge seemed to be holding himself back a little. “Is this.. typical?”

“For flirting? Well, normally there aren’t so many at once.” Tianlang-Jun smiled drolly. “Nor would have anyone dared if the wedding were—”

Mine.

Ah, a chink in his armor. Tianlang-Jun fixed himself immediately. “—Binghe’s. Yet, I suspect this has everything to do with Mobei-Jun’s bridegroom. How clever, how very clever. As to be expected of the An Ding Peak Lord!”

It went without saying that this was ‘as to be expected’ of Liu Qingge, as well. Such a fierce, rather demon-like temperament for a human, and not at all bad looking, either! Never mind how tempting it was to steal Luo Binghe’s second-most prominent suitor; perhaps if only his father was a little less… Well, perhaps in another life Tianlang-Jun may have even tried his hand at stealing him, too. After all, it was all in good, romantic fun, wasn’t it?

So much so that both king and consort remained perfectly unscathed, leisurely accomplishing what ought to have been a far more stressful occasion—for one of them, anyway. Mobei-Jun was and forever remained perfectly confident that Shang Qinghua could handle himself… and perhaps became quite a bit more smug whenever his intended miraculously proved that to be true. As it was, officially wed, Shang Qinghua’s buoyant mirth infected Mobei-Jun and reciprocally his pride enchanted Shang Qinghua in kind. If anyone were paying them half as much mind as the ongoing battle, they’d find the pair sickeningly sweet. 

If only in their own way.

#Moshang #Shang Qinghua #Mobei Jun #Tianlang Jun #Liu Qingge #Yue Qingyuan #SVSSS #bay scribbles

[khepiari]

LuLaw Fic: The Seventh Wife Of Emperor Nika

A.U. DILF Luffy x DILF Law. Emperor x Healer. Slow-burn. Miscommunication.

Inspired from Bluebeard’s Seven Wives

Written for @truffyfest 2023.

This is my first ever time participating in a Zine project! The story is extremely precious to me, I couldn’t have finished it had @quackquackcey not supported me throughout the process. It was an honour to be part of the fest! I finally found courage 12 years after becoming a LawLu shipper.

You can download A New Dawn: a One Piece Lawlu/Lulaw Zine- here.

Or read the entire collection on Ao3.

Trafalgar D Water Law was heartbroken.

The man he loved, his one true love, his soulmate, was married. Married not once or twice, but married six times.

And as if the pain of this information was not enough, his family was not consoling him either, instead, they wanted him to accept the position of being the Emperor’s seventh wife, in his case male-wife.

“I really can’t understand you, child, you are almost forty, why can’t you agree to this marriage?” Law’s father huffed as he wrote down the list of raw materials they needed to buy the next morning. “Your mother told me you are crying every night if you love him so much, why are you wallowing in this pain? People die of heartache, you know? You can be the ruler of this empire, but you choose to suffer in overthinking!”

“Yeah, tell him, Dad!” Law’s younger sister Lamy added her support from one corner of the backroom.

Law had no answer, he was at his wit’s end. Heartbreak couldn’t be justified easily, in his case he had explained to his family multiple times, that he didn’t wish to be someone’s male-wife, wife, husband or spouse, if they already had six wives in their castle! Now he was suffering from guilt, guilt of loving someone so magnificent that he felt selfish.

“You better say yes, before that Emperor Lover of yours does something drastic!” Law’s mother walked into the backroom carrying the fresh herbs and minerals, that needed to be dried under the scorching afternoon sun. “Lamy, take these out! Dry this girl.”

Without a fuss, the teen took the herbs and walked out quickly, only to return even faster. “Why are you back with these?” Their mother asked. Lamy had returned with a pale face, as if a ghost had visited her in their kitchen garden.

“Answer your Mom.” Their father scolded, finding no reaction, the head of the family continued, “Look at this girl, she learned her attitude from Law”

Finding no reply, the elder brother went to his sister, “Lamy what happened?” Law pressed his palms on his sister’s cheeks. “Why are you cold?” The teen girl stood there like a statue in front of her family, clenching hard on the tray of herbs.

“Did something happen?” Both parents rushed to the teen, fearing the worst. “Did anyone hurt you?”

After a long pause, the teen spoke, “The sun is gone!”

Continue reading The Seventh Wife Of Emperor Nika Ao3

#one piece #LawLu #lulaw #lawlu fanfic #lawlu fanart #lawlu headcanon #luffy x law #law x luffy #one piece luffy #one piece lawlu #one piece law #truffy #truffy fest #truffy fest 2023 #one piece zine #op law #op luffy