#you stopped caring when it became apparent I was never going to get better

[gay-dorito-dust]

Would you be willing to write a Miguel x Spider!Reader oneshot where they’re arguing over something the reader did on a mission. And in the heat of an argument, Miguel yells “Because I love you!” at the perfectly wrong time, revealing why he cares about the reader’s safety.

‘What the hell was that back there. You could’ve jeopardised the whole mission with that reckless stunt you pulled back there!’ Miguel barked, ripping off mask the first moment moment he could; Hellfire were setting ablaze to his beautiful scarlet eyes that were zeroed in on you as the anger, the frustration upon his face became prominent the more he closed the distance between you.

‘When will you let this go, Miguel. When we became Spider-Man we knew the risks that we were running with-‘ ‘so you thought it’d be better to take a running head start by taking the leap and then diving headfirst into them?!’ Miguel cuts you off and with an indignant huff he adds, ‘you don’t get extra points for being reckless, this isn’t some little game that you can just come back to when you feel like it. No, what we do is a full time commitment with no room for last minute deviations just because you were feeling more heroic.’

You grit your teeth. You respected Miguel, you truly did and at one point in time you wanted to do right by his little rule book of how to be a great hero. However you soon learned that it’s better to play by your own rules rather then it was to play by those made by others and slowly but surly found a method that worked for you. For no two methods were the same when it came to protecting and saving people but if they both end in the same conclusion, then no one should be able to raise an issue with it. At the end of the day you and Miguel saved people from a much bigger problem if left unchecked; so why was it that all of a sudden he had an issue with your methods?

It never upset him this much before, so why now. Did he think you as incapable? As unreliable? As untrustworthy to fully let you handle a situation on your own? Whatever it was it only proved in pissing you off despite your semi-injured state; you didn’t care that you’ve gotten hurt, you’ve gotten hurt plenty of times before and he never once batted an eye or exemplified his emotions as he did as of right now. You could barely get a read on the guy as he stood mere feet away, chest heaving even though he wasn’t out of breath, eyes wide and his hair slightly disheveled from the way he had torn off his mask earlier.

And yet you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in his anger, for it was like witnessing the makings of a Greek tragedy; beautifully written, yet so heartbreakingly tragic.

‘Why does it matter?’ You spat, getting up, despite your injured leg’s desire to buckle beneath the weight of not only you but the situation at hand. You saw the briefest movements of Miguel’s arms almost stretch out to instinctively catch you but stopping midway through the motion before going slack at his sides once more; as though remembering why he was mad at you in the first place. ‘It never mattered before, so why does it matter now? You don’t hound the others for doing it so why is it me that’s getting shit on for doing the same when I ain’t the first to do so!’

‘Because I love you!’ Miguel exclaimed.

The silence afterwards was almost deafening. Miguel’s outburst quieted you quickly as a thousand and one thoughts raced in your head; how long? why now? Was this merely a ruse to silence you so he could badger on at you for your supposed mistake? You didn’t know what to make of anything anymore now that he said that. You didn’t want to believe it for starters on the basis that not once had he ever shown interest in you, if anything he made it apparent to push you away or avoid you entirely from any and all interaction, and even when he did it was comprised of short responses that left the attempts at conversation to die as an overwhelming awkwardness forced you into leaving him be.

‘What?’

‘I love you.’ Miguel repeated, softer this time.

‘I get that but why-‘ ‘haven’t I shown it until now? As stupid as it sounds but I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me and look where you are,’ he gestured to your injured state, ‘hurt because of me.’ He adds defeatedly. You were about to open your mouth when Miguel raised a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished, ‘I know I haven’t given you any reason to believe me when I say that I love you. I avoid you like the plague and I push you away whenever I see you starting to get too close and respond in a clipped tone of voice so that you’d loose interest and move on to talk to someone else.’

He stopped talking to move in closer to you, grasping you by arms with a firm grip as all the anger in his face seemingly having been melted away. The raging hellfire that once consumed his scarlet eyes in their entirety had been diminished to that of dying ambers, unveiling his admiration, his worry, his guilt and most importantly, his love; the sneer now long gone was replaced by a softer more tender expression that didn’t hide away the worry lines that were deeply etched into his skin. ‘I don’t deserve you, I’m not worth having you because sooner or later you’ll see me the way I’ve always seen myself and I’d rather you be as far away as possible when that happens.’ Miguel said, making sure he was maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to prove that he was being wholeheartedly genuine, not wanting to lie to you about something as personal as his feelings; He’s done that for long enough, Miguel knew his breaking point was upon the incline and seeing you act the way you did during the mission only fast forward it.

‘Yet for some inexplicable reason I can’t stop myself for wanting to protect you, to make sure you’re safe, to make sure that you never come to harm. At first I thought it was because I was looking out for a teammate, making sure you didn’t slip up and cause more potential problems for the rest of us, making sure that you didn’t let a single perpetrator slip but soon I learnt it was far more then just simply looking after a teammate...’ Miguel paused to blink away the images regarding of the nightmares he’d get concerning you, which were few and far between but those times were enough to suffocate him with fear. ‘It was something more and I grew scared, I grew scared because I know what it’s like to loose it all but for some reason I also knew that loosing you would just be the nail in the coffin for me.’

Miguel admits as he presses his forehead against your own, his hands trailing from up your arms until they’re caressing the skin of either side of your neck between calloused thumbs. He closing his eyes and allows himself to breath you in, reminding himself that you were here and that he managed to get to you before anything else could, that he kept you safe, not from all harm but at least from some of it and that was good enough but he knew deep down that he needed the do better. ‘Don’t make me imagine a life without you,’ he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours just that tiny bit harder as his fingertips found their home where your pulse points were to remind him that you weren’t gone completely from his grasp, ‘for I don’t think I’m strong enough to withstand that reality.’

‘You don’t have to.’ You told him softly, lifting your hands to caresses the skin of his cheeks and feeling him effectively melt within your hold. ‘Not anymore.’

#spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv fic #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagines #Miguel o’hard fic #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderverse x reader

[ellecdc]

HEY POOKIE!!!!

Could I request a fic with either poly moon water or poly marauders where reader has had mental health issues but they were getting better and then they slip back into them. This happens to me in moments and I have to remind myself that it’s part of my progress but it would be so nice if I had someone else to say it too. No pressure lovely!!!!

I ADORE all of your marauders work!! Like OML I never know how much I needed poly moonwater until youuuu❤️❤️❤️😘

hi babes! totally get where you're coming from re: mental health issues. It's a marathon, not a race. and I'm so glad you love moonwater! my evil plan of converting the entire fandom (lol) is succeeding. I opted to go with the marauders but it's quite sirius centric

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is struggling with her mental health

CW: non-sexual nudity [nothing is described], discussion of dark mental headspace and anxiety/depression [again, nothing is described]

You felt awful.

You knew the boys would be understanding, but it didn’t make you feel any better about your behaviour.

You’d found yourself slipping back into familiar and darker headspaces as of late, and though you couldn’t deny the disconcerting comfort that familiarity brought, you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to fully fall back into it; you worked so hard to move beyond this, and you had been doing so well.

It hurt worse now that you felt like you weren’t just disappointing yourself anymore, but also disappointing three other people who - for whatever reason - cared an awful lot about you.  

You’d been inching closer and closer to a panic all day and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed when you got home and pretend the world didn’t exist for a few hours days weeks. 

Those kinds of plans don’t work when you live with three other people, two of which have the tendency to coddle you.

You knew that irritability was one of the symptoms of your anxiety, but knowing that didn’t stop the sting of your words as they left your lips. 

James was too nice, too bright, too happy, too lovely. You felt like the polar opposite of your sweetest boyfriend, which made you feel even more disappointing than you already had. And Remus was a fixer; he had a tendency to see a problem and immediately start problem solving, but that’s not what you needed right now.

Of course, you didn’t say that.

Of course, you got angry and lashed out at them before storming off to your room and slamming the door.

What started off as feeling blue quickly spiralled into a low affect. Feeling low left you increasingly anxious. Your anxiety left you feeling disappointing and less than, which caused you to feel depressed. The more depressed you got, the more anxious you became. The more anxious you became, the more depressed you felt.

It was a vicious cycle and you were stuck in its seemingly never ending assault on you.

And now, you weren’t just depressed and anxious; you were also feeling terribly guilty and overwhelmed at the thought of having upset Remus and James. 

Remus, who only wanted to help, who only wanted you to feel better, who only wanted to care for you. 

And James, who only wanted to perhaps share a little bit of his joy with you on the off chance it could brighten your day.

You were awful.

Horrid.

You didn’t deserve them, and they didn’t deserve you - they deserved better. You deserved nothing.

You’re not sure how long you had been standing under the spray of the water with your head against the cool tile when you heard a gentle knock against the glass of the shower door.

You felt the irritability surge in your blood again at the intrusion of your pity party, but tried your hardest to take a steadying breath before you hummed a quiet “yeah?”

“Can I come in?” You heard Sirius’ voice ask from the other side, apparently having gotten home sometime during your meltdown.

He could, though you weren’t sure he should.

You were terrible after all.

Horrid. 

The glass door popped open and Sirius shoved his face in. You didn’t bother turning your face towards him but you could feel the questions permeating his being nonetheless.

“I’m coming in.” He announced, deciding on your behalf. 

You heard the sound of his clothes falling to the bathroom floor, and you knew if Remus were in here he’d be scolding him: “there’s a hamper right there, Sirius.” 

But Remus wasn’t here because you were awful and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the sodding hamper nor Sirius’ clothes littering the floor.

Some of your steam escaped as Sirius opened the shower door fully and you were accosted with cool air that left your body covered in goosebumps. He corrected it quickly by standing under the spray with you and pushing his front up against your back, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“Fuck, you take hot showers.” He commented.

Usually you’d laugh.

“Sorry.” You said instead.

He rubbed at your hips where his hands had fallen with his thumbs, eliciting another layer of goosebumps on your skin. 

“You’re not feeling too good, are you baby?” He asked quietly.

You let out an exhausted breath. “I don’t feel good; I’m no good.” You responded just as quietly.

Sirius ducked his chin down to kiss your shoulder before quickly replacing it.

“That’s not true.”

You didn’t respond, glad that the water streaming over your face hid the evidence of the tears escaping your eyes.

Wordlessly, Sirius pulled away and grabbed your shampoo, working it into your hair. You did nothing to help him in his task, keeping your head pressed against the shower wall as he lathered the soap on your scalp. He pulled the handheld down to rinse it out, paying special attention to point the spray away from your face since you didn’t seem too fussed over protecting your own eyes. He combed some conditioner through your hair and rinsed it out in much the same manner before grabbing a loofa and lathering body wash over your form.

“Sometimes it’s two steps forward and one step back.” He commented, finally breaking the silence that had long been only the sound of the water falling and each of your breaths. “But that still means you’re one step forward.”

A sob escaped you, causing Sirius to pause in his ministrations and pull you back into his chest again.

He didn’t say anything else; he knew better. Of course he would, Sirius sometimes understood this side of you better than the others did. Sirius had a tendency to fall into darker times too, also having a penchant for lashing out at those closest to him when things felt like too much.

He let you cry, standing under the likely too-hot-for-his-tastes water, as he rocked you back and forth with your head leaned back, resting on his shoulder as you faced toward the ceiling. 

“Do they hate me?” You whimpered eventually, trying to convince your lungs to take in slower, deeper breaths.

“Of course they don’t; you know they don’t.”

“Are they mad at me?”

You could feel Sirius shake his head, but he answered you verbally anyway.

“No, doll. They worry, is all.”

You didn’t like that. You didn’t want them to worry. “I’m fine.”

“I know you are.” He agreed readily. “They do too.”

You let that sit in the foggy air for a little bit.

“Do you know that?” He asked eventually.

“Know what?”

“That you’re okay? That you’re just fine?”

You thought about that for a moment. You were sad, and you were anxious, but were you fine?

You admitted to yourself you felt the familiar tendrils of your darker self pulling at you, but you could also admit it was different this time. You were better, you had been working hard, and most importantly, that hard work was paying off.

You may have been two steps forward and one step back, but you were still one step forward from where you started.

“You’re sure they’re not mad at me?” You asked instead, earning you a chuckle as Sirius turned you in his arms to hold your face between his hands. 

“No one is mad at you, love. I swear it. You are, however, very loved.”

You offered him the best smile you could muster and let him pull you forward for a chaste kiss. 

“Then… yes, I know I’m fine.” You agreed eventually, earning you a beaming smile from your boyfriend.

“Atta girl.” 

Your felt your cheeks heat up at the praise and pushed your forehead into his chest.

“Can we get out of this torture chamber, now? I swear this water is being heated by hellfire.” He joked, leaning around you to turn off the shower without your consent.

“It’s really not that bad.” You argued, earning you a scoff.

“I’m red, doll. The water has marred my skin, perhaps permanently.”

You continued arguing about proper shower etiquette as you rubbed lotion into your skin (and then into Sirius’ for his troubles [he really was sort of red]), and changed into your comfies.

You headed towards the living room before you remembered you were sort of ashamed with yourself for the way you had spoken to the other two boys, but Sirius didn’t allow you to hesitate in the hall as he caught your elbow when your steps faltered and ushered you into the room.

“Boys, we’re really going to have to do something about her shower habits.” He commented as if a) nothing had happened, and b) you weren’t even there. “I’m surprised she hasn’t completely melted her skin off." 

“Perhaps hot showers are how she gets so beautiful, Sirius, ever think about that?” James jested back, earning him an indignant scoff.

“Are you saying I’m not pretty, Jamie?”

“As pretty as Y/N?” Remus interjected, looking between the two of you as if assessing. “No, not at all.” 

“Well I-” Sirius began, but you interrupted.

“I’m sorry.”

Everyone’s shoulders fell as they turned to look at you, clearly willing to brush over the tension if that had been what you wanted.

“I was rude and irritable when I got home, and neither of you deserved that. I’m sorry.”

“Angel…” James started, opening his arms for you which you readily accepted and tucked yourself into his chest.

“I was never mad to begin with, but I’ll go ahead and forgive you right now if that’ll make you feel better, okay?” He murmured into your wet hair.

“Okay. Thank you.” You murmured back.

“You’re too sweet for us, dove.” Remus commented, moving to place a consoling hand on your back.

“I was the opposite of that earlier.” You chuckled at your own expense. 

“Please.” Sirius scoffed derisively. “These two are too nice, especially when you feel like shit; I’ve given them a far harder time than you have, dollface.” 

“It’s true.” James said quickly. “He once told me he’d rather have a cup of tea with his mother than snuggle with me when he was in one of his moods once.”

You gasped and looked at Sirius in horror. “You did not.”

Sirius, not at all guilty, shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure did, and I meant it too.”

“Oh come off it.” Remus chided, pulling Sirius into his side who broke out in a grin, effectively eliminating his earnest facade. 

“No, of course I didn’t mean it.” He relented, leaning further into Remus’ side. 

“I don’t like myself very much when I’m like this.” You admitted quietly.

“We’ll love you enough for all of us in the meantime then, yeah?” James asked, pulling you into his arms tighter.

“Just be patient with yourself dove, you’re much too hard on yourself. We’re here now and we’ll be here when you feel better too.” Remus added.

“Can’t get rid of us that easily, dollface.” Sirius concluded, shooting you a wink.

Two steps forward and one step back.

But you were still one step forward.

You knew you would make two more steps forward again soon.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #poly!marauders #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x reader #james potter x you #hurt/comfort #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #ellecdc fics

[kingtomura]

Deja Vu | 1 | January Embers

summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, bullying, eventual smut, eventual meaning next chapter, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, mdni wc: 4.5k | Chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3

You meet Touya Todoroki when you are four years old.

He was a redhot firecracker that demanded the attention of you and all those around him. 

Touya Todoroki was also the first in your class to have his quirk maifest. It was the talk for about a week, everyone expecting nothing less from the son of the flame hero, Endeavor, himself. 

You would watch him some days, flaunting his newfound power on the playground in front of others, knowing he would be some great hero one day. Even better than All Might, he would yell to anyone that would listen. It was a decent dream, you believed. Maybe someone could actually be better than All Might. 

It didn’t seem like that would be in the cards for you, as it became more apparent as the days went by that you may not have a quirk. The excitement of watching every other child’s quirk manifest began to fill you with a pit of dread.

Quirkless. 

It’s something you never thought you would have to think about. The realization hadn’t caught up with the rest of your class yet and you could only thank the stars.

But it was only a matter of time before a group of three noticed. 

They cornered you while you tried drawing shapes in the sanded area of the playground. 

“Hey,” one kid dragged, horns proudly peeking out of his head. “What’s goin’ on with you?” 

You spared him a glance before going back to your sand, gliding the stick you found through the yellow grains. “What do you mean?”

One girl behind him pipes up, curly pigtails bouncing with the tilt of her head,  “Where’s your quirk? Aren’t you turning five soon?”

The emphasis on five makes you jolt a little and you try to play it off — offering a little shrug to the trio. “I dunno. Mom says I'm a late bloomer.” you pray they will be satisfied with your answer and leave you alone. 

The third kid finally speaks, sporting a new pair of bat-like wings. “No way, I bet you’re gonna be quirkless!”

The other children erupt in a loud laugh that calls the attention of your other classmates — much to your dismay. 

“That’s so sad for you!” the girl yelled, grin on her face showing not an ounce of pity. 

“Yeah, really!” The first boy laughs, taking a step forward and kicking the sand you were drawing in towards you, effectively ruining your picture and your day. 

You go to stand, brushing the sand off of your dress before the girl rushes forward to push you, sending you down to land flat on your bottom. Your bottom lip wobbled as you tried to hold back the tears and humiliation threatening to spill over and out. 

The bat-winged boy pointed to you, “Look, guys, she’s gonna cry!” Yelling out to anyone who could hear, only causing you to dip your head in shame, now unable to stop the warm tears from trailing down your cheeks. 

And you thought today couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey! Knock it off!” You hear a voice yell, familiar. “Flashfire fist!”

You feel the heat before you see it, hot and swift.

The screams make you look up. Its Touya, red hair and fist aflame, standing in front of you and effectively blocking you from the trio of bullies before. 

“Ouch, Touya! You could have really hurt us!” the girl with pigtails cried, holding her own wrist as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

The boy who kicked sand at you spoke up next, voice wavering on the verge of tears as well, “Yeah, you jerk!”

Touya shrugged, flames dissipating and points a finger at them, “I don't care. Bullies’ feelings dont matter!” 

You could only stare with wet lashes as the trio ran off — no doubt to tell the teacher. Touya didn’t seem to mind, as a matter of fact he seemed proud as he turned to you and reached out a hand to help you up. He was all smiles and warm eyes, “Are you alright?”

You take his hand, noting how warm it still was from his previous quirk use and nod, “Mhm, thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” he helped you to your feet before continuing, his smile almost blinding, “I’m Touya Todoroki, the next number one hero.” 

You nod and introduce yourself, cheeks warm and smile dancing across your face. His mood is infectious. “Nice to meet you, Touya, next number one hero.” 

Later that day you realize Touya does get in trouble for improper quirk use and can’t help but apologize. 

“It’s fine!” He returns, not bothered in the slightest. “I’d do it again and again, if I had to.”

After the incident Touya insisted on being by your side the rest of the day. During lunch, arts and crafts and even nap time. He would go where you would go and you couldn’t say you minded. Once school had finished for the day and it was time to break apart Touya insisted you both hang out more.

Even going as far as to introduce himself to your parents as they came to pick you up. 

His foot tapped in excitement as he told them about your days and how you should hang out more. 

That’s how you both find yourselves in some forest on the weekend, walking together through the fresh snow, because Touya just had to show you this cool training spot. 

“But, don't you think we’re going too far, Touya?” You ask, nerves trembling as you look around the forest. You wouldn’t know your way back without him and you’ve never been this far out alone. 

“No,” he singsongs, “C’mon– don't be such a baby,” 

You puff your cheeks, running to catch up with him,  “Don’t call me that, but okay!” 

He grabs your hand once you are by his side and it's warm. Touya is always warm. 

“We’re almost there, anyway!” 

This special place looked the same as any other place in these woods, but you wouldn’t let Touya know. He’s so excited to show you what he came to do. 

“My dad and I train here sometimes.” He starts, smiling as he backs away from you to show you a flame in his hand. “He thinks my flames will be hotter than his one day.”

You can’t hide the way your eyes fill with sadness as you look to the ground. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna get a quirk, Touya.” 

The boy’s smile drops instantly, as he rushes over to you, taking your face in his tiny hands. Still so warm, like always. 

“Hey, don’t say that! Maybe you aren't trying the right things.” He dips behind you before you could turn to stop him, “Maybe you can see in the dark!” His hypothesis being tested by covering your eyes. 

You bite back a laugh, “No, Touya, I don't think it works like that.” 

The boy lets you go and runs to a rather large, fallen log – climbing atop it and looking down to you. “Well, maybe you can fly. Have you tried that?” 

You shake your head, unable to hide the worry in your face. Touya was up pretty high. “Hey… you shouldn’t be up that far.” 

“What do you mean? It’s fine!” he reassures, continuing his musing while walking along the fallen log. “Besides, it’s not like I'm clumsy or anything—!” 

The boy’s words were cut short by his shoe stepping down and slipping on the ice below it, sending him crashing down to the patch of snow and debris below. 

In that moment, your hand shoots out before you can think and there’s ringing in your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut as you wait for the impending crash. But it doesn’t come. 

You slowly open your eyes and see… Touya. He’s okay. Better than okay because he’s floating above the snowy patch of grass below, debris and everything brushed away. Your hand is still out as you meet Touya's wide eyes. 

“Whoa!” You finally pull your hand back and watch his feet gently touch the grass below. “Dude, you have mind powers! So cool!” 

You will your breathing to go back to normal as you take in the new information. You do have a quirk. All hope was not lost. 

The feeling of warm liquid creeping down your nostril catches your attention. Bringing a finger to your nose, you pull back and see the crimson drop. Blood. The sound of Touya’s steps through the snow breaks your focus. 

“Hey, what happened? You're bleeding.” He takes your finger in his hand, red brows furrowed and cerulean eyes filled with worry. 

You shrug, taking your hand back and wiping your nose with your sleeve, unaware of the tiny smear of blood you left across your face. “I dunno. I’m not hurt, though.”

At this, Touya smiles, bringing his own hand to your face to wipe the remainder of what you smeared. “You better not be! We’re gonna be heroes together — you and me!”

It’s so infectious, the way he lights up with a smile, you can’t help but return it. “Yeah, we sure will.”

—----------------

The first time you think you see Touya it’s while you are on your way home from the bustling area of downtown. 

The shops are crowded with people trying to get their last minute gifts for the holidays and you promised your parents you would be home hours ago. It’s a flash – so quick you almost miss it. 

Almost. 

Through the crowd there's a glint of white hair and blue eyes. You stop, sending the people behind you nearly barrolling into your backside and profusely apologize, half heartedly hearing their grumbles as you make your way through the flurry of people. 

The snow white hair is a little further ahead, but you can see bits and pieces where the sea of heads will naturally move. 

Was that…

It couldn’t be. Your heart picks up as you nearly chase your way through, mumbling faint excuse me’s and pardon me’s to those around you as you lock onto the moving person. It's becoming harder to keep up and you break out in a light sprint. 

The person takes a sharp left into an alley and you follow behind, only to be met with the emptiness of a damp back alley. 

There was no way it could be him. Your mind was playing tricks on you. 

You shake your head, hoping you could physically shake those thoughts from your brain and turn to head home. It had been a long day.

There is a battle raging in your mind — one that you are not sure is formed from grief or from anxiety. it is an all consuming inferno of blackened dust in your heart and you cannot stop yourself when you bring it up to Fuyumi.

You both have been sitting in silence for a while, wrapping gifts for the upcoming holidays. She has been in her own little world, humming christmas tunes, while you have been in a fit of inner turmoil. 

“Hey, Fuyumi,” you start, instantly catching her attention in the otherwise quiet home. 

“Hm?”

Your nerves are eating your confidence and you start to second guess yourself. Only the warmth in her gray eyes gives you the resolve to continue. “Something weird happened at the market the other day.”

She tilts her head, flowing ponytail following the direction, “What’s that?”

“I was walking and,” you stall — unsure if bringing up your friend's dead brother before the holidays would be a good move. “I swear, I thought I saw Touya. It was a flash, but the guy had his white hair and,” unwanted tears are blurring your vision, “and his eyes were so much like Touya’s i don't—” you're choking up, tears fighting their way through your throat, “I thought i was going crazy.”

Surprisingly, Fuyumi takes it well, reaching a hand out to touch your shoulder, a comforting motion you’ve grown to know over the years. 

“Hey, it’s okay. That could have been anyone, you know?” She smiles, and it’s bittersweet like the flowers at a funeral, “it’s the holiday season so everyone is out right now.”

You nod, reluctant, but logical. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. It was pretty crowded in that area.” the tears would force their way through your resistance whether you fought them or not, so you give up – letting them flow down your cheeks. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Fuyumi.”

“No, it's okay! Don't worry about it." She looks to the side. “It’s only been three years since it happened, and the anniversary of his death is coming up too. It's harder around this time of year. For all of us.” 

You can only nod as Fuyumi brings you into a tight hug. Your resolve melted away in her arms as you cried, it felt like things would never get easier. 

A life without Touya wasn’t a life you could see yourself living happily in.

You wished and prayed for him everyday — unwilling to believe your best friend was really truly gone. It felt so surreal. Like something that happens in movies and not to you.

Fuyumi said nothing as she held you and rubbed soothing circles on your back. She has been a pillar for you in these times and you couldn’t be more grateful. Only wishing you could show your gratuity in a more effective form than just sobbing into her shoulder. 

There is an anguish in your heart that will not go away. A part of you died when Touya did, there was no denying that. 

Fuyumi pulls away, holding you by the shoulders as her eyes meet yours — she's started crying too and it's enough to make you shake with sobs again. 

“Hey, hey,” Fuyumi starts, her voice unwavering despite the tears. You wish you were strong like her. “We’ll get through this, okay? We just have to be strong.”

You give her a pathetic nod, one more for her sake than yours, and try to sit up straighter. 

You knew that Touya wouldn’t want to see you like this.

—-------------------

When you are five years old, you notice there is a change in Touya.

You gasp when you see him again, “Touya! Your hair!” 

His eyebrows scrunch at your pointing and then widen in realization. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about that.” Touya huffs, “were you even listening?”

The question startles you and you quickly nod your head, knowing you didn't hear a word he said. “Mhm!”

Touya keeps talking, now bringing a hand to his hair, rubbing a lock between his forefinger and thumb, “Okay, so what’s the deal?” 

You can't stop the confused look in your eye as you watch him, cheeks rosy from the cold. It snowed again yesterday, and Touya never seemed bothered by the cold. You were freezing though. 

Somehow you let him bring you back to this forest — it’s become your go to hangout. A place where the both of you could practice your quirks in peace. 

“Do you like All Might or something?” 

You shrug, indifferent to the well known hero. Your parents weren’t heroes and neither was anyone in your family. He seemed more like a comic book character than an actual person. 

“Well, it doesn't matter. My dad told me I’m gonna be even better than All Might! So he better watch out.”

You smile, seeing his eyes light up, “Oh, yeah? How are you gonna be better than him, Touya?” 

You don’t know why but it makes your heart dance when he gets this way. Stars in his eyes and world in his hand. He’s your hero, you absently wonder if he knows that. 

Touya shrugs, scrunching his nose in thought, “I dunno. I haven’t gotten that far yet.” He snaps his fingers and turns to you, “I know! I’ll look it up. It can’t be too hard, right?”

You laugh now. Of course he doesn’t have a plan.

“Don't you think if it were that easy he wouldn't be the number one right now?” You test, and Touya gives you a look, pout strong on his face.

“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Yours! So, I don't want you to waste your time on silly stuff.” You offer, looking at the leaves you're making dance in your hand. 

He groans, the frustration evident in his voice, “Whatever! I’ll figure something else out.”

In that moment, there’s a great gust of wind — whistling and blowing the leaves in your hand away. It’s chill makes you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering. 

“Touya, don’t you get cold?” You ask, arms doing little to warm yourself as you continue to shiver. 

The boy looks at you, brows furrowed and eyes confused. “No, do you?”

“Yes!” You shout, “all the time! It’s so c-cold out here. I don’t know how you do it.” 

He walks over to you, pondering and examining your face. “Yeah, your nose is all red. Rudolf.” 

He takes your face into his hands and closes his eyes, rubbing his nose against yours back and forth. It’s warm and it makes you flush. Your cheeks burn when he pulls away, stunned at the smile on his face and stars in his eyes.

“Better?” He asks, innocent question ringing in your ears and you realize yes, you do feel better, but you also feel warm and fuzzy like there are butterflies dancing around in your belly and you can’t get them out — so, you just nod instead, slow smile creeping on your face and Touya grabs your hand again.

“Good! Now let’s keep going! There’s this cool new move I wanna try.” 

And you follow behind him. He was your best friend after all. You feel as though you would even follow him through the icy storms of Antarctica if you needed to. 

—-------------------

Christmas with the Todoroki’s has always been interesting. For one, half of them were not present during the dinner. Rei being sent to the facility, endeavor choosing to work on his hero duties and little Shouto desperately trying to eat with all of you without Enji coming home to find him out of his room. 

The silence is eerie – other than the sounds of metal clinking against porcelain plates. 

You couldn’t help but break the tense air, words sounding loud in the quiet of the room, “Thank you all for inviting me over. The food is really good, Natsuo.”

At this, Natsuo perks up, a smile so wide on his face it makes his eyes squeeze shut. “We love having you around! You’re like the big sis we never had!”

“Hey!” Fuyumi squawks, ready to scold her little brother, “I’m the one who knows where you sleep Natsu, so watch it!”

You can’t help but laugh at the threat, knowing Natsuo has been a victim to many of Fuyumi’s pranks. Shouto only watches on, eating as much as he could before he would inevitably go back to his side of the home. There wasn’t much expression to his face, but he seemed content to watch his older siblings bicker back and forth. 

Times like these were nice, you decide. It pulls your mind away from the reality and into the more lively parts of growing up.

After the dinner was done, and the gifts were passed out, there was a somber air growing about you all once more. 

Shouto went back to his room and Natsuo found his place in the living room, playing video games and insisting that since he cooked most of the meal, he shouldn’t wash dishes as well. 

Much to Fuyumi’s dismay, you agreed with Natuso, but offered to help her with the dishes. It was something to prolong the inevitable walk home. 

“What did you get for him this year?” Fuyumi asked, passing you another plate to dry.

You glanced at her, noting how she avoided your gaze, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth instead. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. A necklace — with charms and things I think he would like.”

She nods, bringing an arm up to wipe her eyes with her wrist, “Yeah, I’m sure he would love that. He always liked your gifts.”

It’s impossible not to find yourself tearing up. 

Once you were done washing dishes with Fuyumi, she went to join Natsuo in the living room, offering unwanted tips on the current game he was playing and receiving groans of irritation in return. 

You take that as your cue to leave and make your way to the place you’ve dreaded all night.

Touya’s shrine.

His memoriam stared back at you as you dropped to your knees, lowering your head in prayer and then placing the small decorated box onto the shelf of his shrine. 

“Oh, Touya… it’s been three years.” You say to his photo hanging above the shrine. It’s his school photo. You were both in the same class, already talking about what high schools you would be choosing in the upcoming years.  

It doesn’t feel like three years. It feels like everyday is the same — you wake up and he’s not there. Like a day you’re doomed to repeat until the reality of it all finally sets in. 

What would he look like now, you wonder. Would he have gotten taller? He had always been smaller than the other kids. Would he still have dreams of being a hero? You didn’t know. You wished you knew. 

Your fists clinch in your lap and the tears flow freely from your eyes. Even with your head bowed you can’t stop seeing his picture etched into your brain. Those blue eyes staring into your eyes. 

A sob escapes your lips and it all comes crashing down after that. 

“God, Touya..!” Your words break down, sending your resolve with it. It feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and you’ve been openly bleeding out for three years. 

You are only sixteen years old and expected to spend the rest of your life without the boy who would put the moon in the sky for you. 

Unthinkable.

You’re not sure how much time has passed once you’ve calmed down, but you know it’s late now. 

It was time to head home, and you wished Fuyumi and Natsuo well as you hugged them. They wave you off, faces somber and words tight. If they heard you crying, they didn't mention it and you’re thankful. 

The trek home would not be not a long one, but you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a detour. 

The forest where you and Touya always hung out was nearby and you can't stop your feet when you make a sharp right turn and head that way. 

It was getting dark and snow was beginning to fall, but you felt at home.

There's a river you like to walk along. It's such a small little stream that never seems to freeze over, no matter how cold it is outside. It is where you find yourself trailing beside. The water being the only noise breaking through the quiet of the forest.

It kept you company until you reached the familiar open patch of grass, which was currently covered in snow. 

Some trees were still charred from the incident, but others were still standing proud. It’s strange how that works — some things can remain the same through adversity while others are damaged beyond repair. You wonder if things could ever grow back from such tragedies.

Maybe the growth of something new could come from the ashes of the old. Like a phoenix.

The snapping of a twig snatches you from your thoughts. 

It's a forest, yes, but this area doesn’t have much food for the animals. You stand to your feet, absently wondering when you had taken a seat in the first place, and look around. Maybe it was a trick of the wind, or something falling. 

The snow crunches under your feet as you begin to take your leave — you’ve been out long enough. 

You make your way through the thick of the trees until something brings you to pause. 

Your steps were not the only steps you were hearing. 

“Hello?” You call out into what you hoped had been an empty forest, only to be met with silence. It is not a comforting quiet, it was a quiet that crept underneath your skin and gave you goosebumps. 

It felt like you were being watched. 

“This isn’t funny!” You yell, taking cautious steps backwards, preparing yourself for a sprint in the opposite direction. 

You turn, ready to take off when a glimmer of silver catches your eye, the flicker making you halt your movements.

Your heart hammered against your chest.

There was no way. 

It was so faint, but you knew the necklace you crafted like the back of your hand.

“Hey! Stop fucking around, whoever you are!” You don’t know where this brave face is coming from, but you aren’t backing down. You could fight if need be.

Against your better judgment, you take a few steps forward, and like you thought, whoever was around took those steps with you. Your breath hitches when you see it. 

A flash of white hair. 

You break off into a sprint, and the person is already off, having a headstart and leaving you behind. 

You couldn’t see as well through the snowfall, but you didn’t need to. White hair and the shimmer of a necklace around the person’s neck has you chasing them deeper into the woods. 

“Stop..!” You cry out, reaching a hand forward in an attempt to activate your quirk. 

The force of it causes branches to fall from a tree further ahead of the person and he only changes direction. 

You follow behind, lungs burning as you struggle to keep up. There was another attempt, bringing an already leaning tree down in front of the running man. It still did not work, he simply jumped over it and continued on. 

You were approaching your limit with your quirk and desperate. If you let this slip through your fingers it would drive you mad. 

“Wait!” You try again, reaching both hands forward and focusing all you had on the man before you. It was hard to ignore the blood trickling from both nostrils with your quirk use, but you had to, this was your only chance. “Touya..!”

And in that moment, the man stopped — whether it be from your quirk holding him in place or his own will, you weren't sure. All you knew was that the man stopped, and turned.

Your vision began to blur as your head pounded from the overexertion — your quirk was difficult to use on a living being, but it didn’t matter. You would know those eyes even in your darkest hour.

The cerulean blue was the last thing you saw before your world went dark. 

And in your final moments, only one thought rang in your mind.

Touya is alive.

#todoroki touya #touya todoroki #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #dabi x reader #dabi #touya todoroki x reader #my works #mha x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya x you

[writersblockedx]

Bachelors

Pairing - JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader Summary - Y/n is the kook JJ has been effortlessly in love with for years now. Only problem being: she didn't date pogues. Warnings - good bit of angst, alcohol use, implications of sex Words - 2.2K

Masterlist

JJ should have been used to it by now. The flashy dresses which hugged her figure like a glove; the way her eyelids would flutter at the sight of any half-decent man; the smile she wore which was ever so slick and sinister. JJ also should have known that any kook with no originality or personality (pretty much all of them) would have brought Y/n here, to the restaurant he worked at.

Some would call it a coincidence that JJ happened to be on shift that night, but the boy himself believed this was God looking to taunt him. Her giggles erupted through the rest of the candle-lit room. Kook couples and families all intertwined, forkfuls of food and a demand for the waiter's attention. Yet the only attention that JJ cared for was Y/n's - and she was giving  her all to the mediocre first date.

"And you know, the Grady White, it's a good boat, but it has nothing on the original." JJ overheard Y/n's date explain. He was some level-headed kook whose personality consisted of the white polo shirt he was currently wearing and boats apparently.

He slowed by their table, struggling to keep any sort of eye contact that wasn't a burning glare. "Can I get you guys anything else?" He questioned. "The bill?" Please say yes, JJ pleaded within his head. Whenever she didn't get another drink after the third course, the date had been a futile one.

But she flashed a smile and flicked her hair around as to face the blond, "Just another wine please." And like that, any hope faded from his pupils. He nodded, gave her date a stare before turning and rushing back to the kitchen.

She'd had two drinks after the third course. JJ knew what that meant: she was taking him home. He had talked to the girl enough as well as watched enough of these dates play out, and he was well aware of her tells. JJ knew when Y/n was interested in actually getting to know the date, when she definitely wasn't and when, like now, she was only interested in taking him home. And no matter how hard he tried, preyed and attempted to slither his way in, JJ was never one of her bachelors.

He was lucky to grab her before she slipped from the restaurant. His hand gently tugging at her arm, prompting her focus on him. "Hey," His voice was breathy, a whisper against the air between them. "You really going home with this idiot?" His head nodded to the door where, passed such, her date was awaiting their taxi.

A laugh escaped her lips, "What? You gonna stop me?" There emerged that smile, that sickening, sweet smile JJ was captivated by.

His hand never left from her arm. It lingered. "I just- he doesn't know what he's talking about." The blond had huffed. "That stuff about boats. I mean that's- it's obscene, you know that, Y/n."

"JJ, I'm not gonna reject him over his preference in boats." Her chuckle steadied as she suddenly became eager to join the man.

But the pogue tilted his head, never daring to let his touch leave her. "Maybe you should." His tone was serious. Only to be broken by the grin which was hanging at Y/n's lips.

"I'll see you later." And like that, she turned, taking steps away from him as his finger tips fell from her forearm.

As he had done a hundred times before, JJ watched the girl leave. He should have been collecting the bill of the other table, but he chose it better to loom for a moment, right until her shadow exited the restaurant completely and he was left wondering if Y/n would ever turn to a pogue and take them on a similar date.

By the next morning, there came no surprise to JJ when the girl wondered in. No longer dressed in her silky, expensive material but rather denim shorts and a t-shirt. The sort of thing she'd never wear to a date. The sort of thing she only wore around her friends, people like JJ for instance who was setting up for their lunch time rush.

"Later than I expected." He called as she drew closer to the boy. He had napkins shoved in both hands, rushing as he placed them down on the different tables.

There still lingered that smile at Y/n's lips. But her nightly experience had urged the enthusiasm to fade. "The guy wouldn't leave till he got my number." She informed, tailing behind him as she did many mornings after dates. "Had to give him a fake one." There came no reply from JJ and Y/n swore she had never seen someone so focused on napkins. "Here, let me-"

Her hands were reaching out to a grasp them, to help her friend, but her offer had been snatched away. JJ turned, a sour look dwindling in his pupils. "I've got it." He huffed before continuing on. "You ever think that maybe this isn't working for you?" He questioned, eyes centred on the tables he was decorating.

Y/n's brow raised, "What do you mean?"

"The dates." Said JJ, finally glancing to meet her dull expression. There came no smile anymore, just a reflection of apathy. "None of them seem to be turning into anything."

She thought on it for a moment but found herself shrugging, "Hm, I guess." JJ paused too as to face the girl. "But I've got the best system going. Possible bachelor walks in and I've already got JJ Maybank as my wingman for the night." She giggled at her words - something JJ hadn't accompanied her with.

"You ever think about dating someone who you've actually had more than one conversation with." He suggested, treading lightly into these uncharted waters.

"And where's the fun in that?" There laid a cheeky glint in her eye that JJ attempted (and failed) to ignore as he shook his head, walking back towards the front of house.

"I wouldn't have to listen to you complaining every week for one." He noted.

Absant-mindedly, Y/n swung an arm around JJ's shoulder. It was in that moment that the boy truly couldn't ignore the glint which settled in her gaze. "But I tip you so much." She argued.

His head tilted, "You mean you get your 'bachelors-" He added the air quotation marks to such, "to pay."

Y/n hummed, "Same difference."

"I honestly don't know why I help you." JJ uttered.

The girl leaned closer to him, "Because you love me." A paused followed before she continued, "And if you didn't, then who would I pretend is my toxic ex-boyfriend whenever a guy starts giving my the creeps."

Her arms slipped from him and she watched this expression mould carefully. All this time Y/n had been bombing on about dates, this and that, she had yet to come to note the sorrow look which was drowning JJ. The glimpse of such had made the smile dissipate from Y/n herself. "I can't do this forever, Y/n." The blond admitted.

"What do you mean?" Her words came with a chuckle as to try and lighten the suddenly thick atmosphere; it hadn't worked.

"I mean, my job isn't to play pretend boyfriend for you, or listen to how terrible or fantastic your date is going." He was seething and Y/n had never seen JJ so agitated. "My job is to wait tables, to clear plates and clean tables. I guess as a kook you don't understand that."

She shifted, a part of her aching just knowing this was how JJ felt, "JJ, I'm sorry, I didn't realise-"

"Of course you didn't." He interjected before giving her the chance to continue with his words. "All you talk to me about is this guy and that one. You know now I think on it, I can't remember the last time you actually gave a shit about what was going on in my life. I shouldn't even be surprised. You're a kook, what's it matter to you the shit that's going on in my pathetic pogue life."

The boy was about to turn, barely having it in him to look at that down-hearted expression the girl wore. But, before he was able to do so, Y/n reached out, her hand cupping his. "I'm sorry that maybe I'm bad at showing it, but I care so much for you JJ." He knew he was weak against her soft gaze. "I really do."

But as his gaze flickered between her and her hands, he couldn't bare it anymore. "Yeah, well maybe it's not that you're bad at showing it, maybe you just don't at all." And like that, he snatched his palm away, turned his back and rushed off so Y/n couldn't follow him.

She stood in the loneliness of the restaurant with thoughts flooding. Never had she stood in the spot she was now without someone at her side. Suddenly, Y/n came to realise how daunting that empty space was. It taunted her and she wanted nothing but than for JJ to return. But it seemed that, without even realising it, she had just drove the boy away.

It lasted a week. Y/n tossed and turned rather than sleeping. Her mind was a wandering mess and she couldn't even fill such with the futile dates she would usually arrange. So, rather, she had no choice but to fumble around her thoughts. Her mind went over and over the words JJ had spat at her that day. And she wondered if she would ever be able to make it up to him.

With JJ's words in mind, she strung together a plan. She contacted the restaurant, making sure he wasn't working that Saturday night and once such was confirmed, she organised the rest of her plan. As was her usual, Y/n was in her silky dresses, her hair perfected and her smile not daring to faulter. The only difference being that this night in particular, she wasn't waiting outside some kook house, or waiting for some flashy sports car to show up. Instead, she was in the cut, wandering up to JJ Maybanks looking like she didn't belong.

Her knuckles gripped the flowers in her hand as she huffed, climbing up to JJ's porch. With her free hand, she knocked against it, waiting patiently as heavy footsteps followed. The door swung open so abruptly it had almost made the girl jump. "Well, hello there, pretty lady." Sung Luke.

Y/n had only met JJ's dad a couple of times. Though, he was usually drunk or high when that had happened. But she'd heard stories. Some from JJ, some from other people on the island. Criminal, scum, dirty pogue. He lived up to the stories. "Erm, sorry, is JJ in?" She questioned, hoping she could keep conversation with Luke to a minimum.

He gave her the once over before his head turned back, "JJ! There's some rich lady at the door for you!" He yelled, loitering at the door before their came rumbles of sound from another part of the house.

"What? Dad I told you to send sales people away-" His words were aimless until he came from his room, his eyes settling on the girl who was standing in the doorway. "Y/n." He spoke her name like a breath of fresh air.

She offered a smile, "Hi."

JJ gave his dad a glance before taking his place, Luke wandering further into the house. "What are you doing here?" He inquired, staring between her dress, the flowers and her features.

"Showing you I care." She passed over the flowers and he took them with knitted brows.

"You bought be flowers?"

The girl could only shrug, "And there's a table booked at 7."

The boy wanted to be mad, but he couldn't. Not with the way she was looking at him. "What? Am I meant to be your date for the night?" There was humour in his tone.

"You'd have to forgive for that." She tested the waters with her words.

And when he took a step out onto the porch, she knew she had won against the odds. "And I here I was thinking you didn't date pogues." He said, coming to her side, offering his arm.

Y/n linked it with her own, "Only you." Her eyes glistened at him. Not like they did with the kooks she walked at the side of. Tonight, they were glistening in relief that the one boy she truly cared for finally saw such.

They hadn't even made it to the car when JJ had leaned over, brow raised, "You are gonna pay for it right?" A giggle escaped her lips. But she certainly owed it him.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #outer banks #outer banks season 3 #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fic #x reader #imagine #fanfiction

[starogeorgina]

Children of the dragon

Warnings: Incest, sexual content, child birth, swearing

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen × Targ oc, Minor Aemond Targaryen × Targ oc

1.04

“Perhaps the prince would like to leave the room to give the midwives a chance to-”

“Don’t you dare fucking leave me!” You hiss, squeezing Aegon’s hand, and you stare daggers at the maester. “He’s not leaving my side.”

Reluctantly, the maester nods, swiftly leaving the room to no doubt report back to your mother, who was waiting at the door. She seemed more concerned that Aemond was nowhere to be found than you. The midwives had managed to spin your baby to the right way round, which reduced your chances of dying while giving birth breech.

Aegon hadn’t once left your side.

As the midwives ordered you to push, Aegon stood behind you, his forehead pressed against your crown, whispering words of encouragement and a promise to keep you safe while you held onto both of his hands tightly, screaming and crying as your first child entered the world.

“It’s a boy,” the midwives tell you as they wrap your screaming baby in a blanket, wipe his face, and then place him in your arms.

You sob at how tiny he is; “it’s a boy. My beautiful boy.” You stare down at him, admiring all his small features, until you feel sharp pains in your stomach and say, “Fuck! Aegon take him!”

“What?”

“Just take him!”

Nervously, Aegon takes him from your arms and into his; as soon as he does this, you grip the sheets, holding back on screaming again as you deliver the afterbirth. Afterwards, you stand up to let the midwives clean the bloodstained sheets, and you notice they keep looking at Aegon and then each other, clearly confused at why he is there.

Aegon was so mesmerized by the baby in his arms that he hadn’t noticed you’d gotten up and changed until you winced in pain getting back into bed. With a proud look on his face, he places the baby back into your arms and then kisses you on the forehead.

Moments later your mother enters the room; she shoots Aegon a disapproving glare when she sees him sitting on the foot of the bed, his hand resting on your leg, but smiles when she sees your baby for the first time. “He’s precious,” she says, brushing damp strands of hair out of your face. “I’m so proud of you, my darling. Have you and Aemond thought of a name?”

“Aeron.”

The room falls silent. You and Aegon stare at each other, and a flicker of understanding passes between you.

Your mother lets out a sound of delight. “I think the name Aeron will fit him well.”

—

Once your mother left, a wet nurse arrived, offering to take Aeron and feed him. You shake your head and say, “Thank you, but I’m going to do it myself.”

The wet nurse looks bewildered. Breastfeeding was deemed an inconvenience, and it would apparently stop you from getting pregnant again while doing it, but you didn’t care. You wanted to feed and connect with your newborn, which shouldn’t have been a problem, but the idea of it had caused the other women in the room to fluster. The wet nurse looks between you and the midwives. You became irritated and let out a sigh of annoyance.

Tracy, your handmaiden smiles sweetly at the wet nurse and says, “You may go.”

An older midwife tries to intervene. “My lady, it is known that-”

“Princess Theodora,” Aegon says sternly.

Her jaw clenches as she struggles to keep a polite smile on her face. “Princess, I believe it would be better if you hand the babe over to the wet nurse for now so you can rest.”

You had only given birth hours prior, and already they were seeking to control how you parented. If you lost control now, you would never regain it, and you would simply not allow that to happen.

“My child will be staying by my side, and his cot will be brought through to my chambers so I can tend to him overnight.”

The midwife's blank facial expression changed to one of horror. “I must insist—”

“Everyone out!” you snap.

“And if anyone has issue with the princess's choices, you can take them up with me, the firstborn son of King Viserys, or you can ask the Queen her opinion on the matter,” Aegon adds.

The midwives scurry to gather their belongings and leave. Tracy tried to hide her amusement, saying, “I will have someone move his belongings from the nursery to your bedroom right away.”

“Thank you,” you say sincerely.

When the room is empty, you look at Aegon, trying not to laugh, and ask, “The first son of King Viserys?”

He shrugs, smirking, “It worked, didn’t it? Pay them no mind. He is our-your son. He’ll grow up knowing nothing but love.”

You look down at the helpless baby in your arms and tear up. You’d never imagined you’d feel so much love at once or the urge to protect. Aeron was innocent and pure, you’d spend the rest of your life trying to shield him from the badness in the world.

Aegon kisses the back of your head, saying, “I was so scared when you started bleeding; I thought I might lose you. Both of you… I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe, even if it means pretending he isn’t mine.”

His voice is weak from trying to hold back tears. It never occurred to you when you first made love to Aegon how much was to be caused further down the line. But looking at your son's small, lilac eyes, you know you wouldn’t change it.

“If Aemond ever finds out Aeron is yours, he'll burn King's Landing to the ground.”

“Don't worry, he won't find out.”

—-

“Aegon!” You empty a cup of water over him. “This is serious, wake up!”

Rubbing the water from his face, he scowls up at you. His voice is laced with irritation as he looks around the room and asks, “Where are the children?”

“In bed, it’s nighttime.”

“Unless you’ve woken me to show me your sweet cunt, I’m going back to sleep.”

He was drunk. You kneel down so you are level with him. “Aemond will be here soon; you need to go. If he finds you here-”

Aegon slurred his words and waved his hand, motioning to the chair he was lying in. “He’ll what? Assume I walked into the wrong bedchamber and passed out.”

“He’s getting suspicious. If he starts to believe the rumours…you know not to come here when he wants to spend time with me.”

Aegon sits up, his greasy hair flops over in front of his face, and he always drinks heavily when Aemond wants to try for another child. When Aeron turned one, your husband suggested having another, and just over nine months later you gave birth to twin girls, Alina and Alyssa. Of course, they shared the same father as their brother.

“Spend time with you—you mean he wants to rut into you and fill you with seed.”

You hated how crude his language choice could be at times, “You need to go now.” You scrunch your nose up when Aegon leans his head against your chest, “and take a bath. You stink of ale.”

“This wasn’t a part of our plan; you can’t have any more children. Not now.”

Hearing the pain in his voice broke you. You blink away tears that threaten to build up, kissing the top of his head, “I know, I know, and I won’t.”

Aegon had begged you to leave King's Landing and start a new life somewhere the name Targaryen means nothing, and you did consider it until rumours of you and Aegon fucking in a brothel spread. Although it wasn’t true, the rest of your family became more suspicious of the time you spent with your brother.

You watch happily as Aegon plays with your son in the garden. It surprised you how protective he was over Aeron and your newborn babies. Hearing footsteps approaching, you look over your shoulder and smile, “You look lovely today, mother. We missed you at breakfast this morning.”

“Thank you, and I was praying to the gods for guidance.”

Hearing Aeron let out a cry, you spun around fast to see your son being scooped up into Aegon’s arms. He had tripped over a small rock, scraping his knee. Aegon soothes him by stroking his hair and kissing him on the cheek. A moment later, Aeron was placed back on the ground and returned to exploring the garden.

“Where is Aemond?”

You shrug. “I do not know, but I’m sure he won’t be far.”

Most days, you just saw Aemond in passing at meal times and formal events. He only visited your bedchambers when he wanted to create another heir or was frustrated.

Your mother looked at you and then into the garden. Her face settled into one of worry. “Parenthood is hard; it takes some fathers longer to adjust.”

“I don’t doubt Aemond loves the children.”

“A mother's love is different,” she squeezes your hand. “And an uncle’s as well, apparently. They are very lucky to have so many people taking care of them.”

You frown at her; your mother's tone has changed from neutral to cold and accusing. “If Aegon wishes to tell my children about dragons, Targaryen history, and bedtime stories, even if they are too young to understand them, then so be it. It's more than Aemond does.”

“And why is that?”

Her question was simple but loaded. She wasn’t willingly blind like your father; being queen, she had learned how to be sleek, observant, and cunning. She knew the truth but didn’t dare outright ask.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

It might have been possible for you to sneak out of King's Landing with Aeron without raising suspicion; you would have claimed to be taking him with you while dragon riding, but after delivering twin girls, it became impossible. You wouldn’t be able to ride with all three children safely, and the moment someone noticed Sunfyre riding alongside Dallax, the consequences would be dire.

A knock at the door causes you to jump back just as Aemond enters the room. He looks between you and Aegon and rolls his eyes. “Lost and wondering again?”

“Piss off.”

Aemond smirks, enjoying seeing his brother in such a state. “You should sleep it off,” you say softly. “Come on, we should get you back to your own bedchamber.”

“Allow me,” Aemond brushed aside, pulling Aegon to his feet. “Come, brother, I doubt my wife wants to spend time with you at this time of night.”

You hold your breath, waiting to hear Aegon’s drunken response, but he says nothing. It’s not until you meet Aemond’s gaze that you realize it was more of a question than a comment.

You try to laugh it off as a joke. “I’m going to bathe before bed, so I'd rather you both left.”

Aegon smirks at your response.

Aemond simply nods his head, turns the other way, and leaves with Aegon without saying another word.

—

You rub at your skin, desperate to get the smell of Aegon off you. Usually you loved the smell of your lover lingering in the air, but not when Aemond was around. You always feared he’d smell Aegon on you. The thought of how paranoid you’d become almost made you laugh out loud. Most of the time, you were invisible to your husband; if you ever did leave, he would be the last to notice.

In the years you’d been married, he had yet to show any real interest in being your husband, which is why your affair with Aegon was so easy to carry on despite the guilt that occasionally overwhelmed you. It wasn’t until you gave birth that you understood your mother's comment. Aemond would always put the family name first, but Aegon would put you first.

Your relationship with Aegon wasn’t just based on sex, although he had become addicted to fucking you like he claimed he would. He would take you anywhere he could, and not just with his cock. He loved using his mouth and fingers to make you scream and beg for him. But the way he made you feel safe and loved was the best part; he adored all three of your children. Your days were spent playing with your children, riding dragons, or sitting beside him reading or talking. But you knew if anyone else found out, they would never understand.

Once you finished bathing, you waited for a couple of hours, but when Aemond didn’t return, you decided to go to bed. After changing into a nightdress and unbraiding your hair, you crawl underneath the bed sheets, feeling your eyes heavy. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

—

Feeling a dip in the bed beside you, you turn to see what's going on, and you’re shocked to see Aemond getting in the bed. The moonlight was the only source of light, making it hard to read the expressions on his face. “Aemond, what are you doing?”

You freeze, feeling his lips press against yours. “I am your husband.”

You’re taken aback by the playfulness in his voice; it's an unfamiliar sound. You remained stunned as Aemond started kissing your neck. Your shared intimate moments usually consisted of you lying fully dressed while Aemond did what he needed to quickly. The kisses shared were usually out of curiosity, and foreplay wasn’t something you’d ever done before.

Aemond gently pushes you back onto the bed before removing his clothes. He lay back down beside you and resume kissing your neck while his hand caresses your breast. “I’ve never seen you before,” he says, his breath sounding ragged. “Not truly, not all of you.”

You gasped when he pulled down the front of your nightdress so that your breasts were on full display. Aemond sits back and pushes the fabric up to your hips, but for the first time, he actually looks down at your sex instead of avoiding it. He mumbled something you can’t make out then kissed you, his hand running up and down your thigh.

You cup the side of his face and sigh, “You don’t need to do this. You don’t need... do more than you want.”

“You are my wife,” Aemond says, moving to cup your warm slit, his finger teasing the entrance. “I must admit that I have neglected my duties in attending to your needs.”

Something inside you stirs—an emotion you can’t place.

“Tonight I’m going to put another heir into you.” Aemond slides a finger into you, kissing you at the same time.

Not knowing what to do with your hands, you place them gently on his back. Aemond withdraws his finger and lines himself up with you, then slams into you. Removing his lips from yours, he takes as much of your breast into his mouth while squeezing the other with his free hand. You arch your back and let out a small moans he takes you roughly.

Aemond doesn’t last long and cums quickly, pressing his head against yours and breathing heavily. He pecks you on the lips, pulling out and rolling to his side. You wait for him to leave, but when he closes his eye, you realise he has no intention of going. You face the other way, close your eyes, and pray that morning comes quickly.

—

You collapse onto the bed, panting and gasping; Aemond was most definitely determined to get you pregnant. At first, you weren’t overly worried because you had plenty of time to drink moon tea, but it was now much more difficult considering he had sex with you twice since waking up.

You wanted to know what brought on this unusual behavior. You wanted to ask Aemond why he even wanted another child when he hardly saw the three he believed were his. He didn’t return from his travels for over a week the last time you gave birth; he briefly visited the twins in their nursery then left again.

“You don’t sleep well, do you?” Aemond asks while putting his clothes back on.

“No, the dreams I have keep me awake.”

Aemond looks intrigued. “Do you get them often?”

Growing up, your brothers would mock you and Helaena; they would call you weird. Of course Aegon stopped long ago; he was the only one you ever truly confided in. “Yes, I’ve been having the same one for years.”

“What do you see?” Aemond sat down on a chair facing the bed; he seemed serious. “In the past, I never listened, but I’m asking you to trust me enough to tell me.”

You feel ashamed. Aemond wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t love you or your children. “It’s hard to describe. It’s not just what I see; it’s what I feel,” You clutch a pillow to your chest. “I’m in the sky, surrounded by clouds. The sun is shining down on me, and then it disappears. Then I’m falling, and I feel this intense feeling that's trying to suffocate me, like a weight being pressed down on my chest. Then I hear it—a woman screaming. I think she’s dying because her whole world turns black.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until the wetness runs off your cheeks. Feeling awkward, you wipe them away. Aemond gulps, “I’m sorry; I never realized your nights were plagued by such images. Do you ever have other dreams?”

“Yes, I had a vision of our nephew Jace dying. So I sent a raven to Dragonstone, making sure he was okay.” It wasn't until you became a mother that you understood your family's hatred towards your nephews was pointless.

He seems surprised by your honesty. “Well, I’m sure your mind will be at rest knowing he is alive. But I don’t think you should waste your generosity on them, and I definitely don’t want Aeron interacting with bastards.”

“Your fight with the Velaryon boys is not mine, and it’s definitely not my children’s.” Aemond glared at you but didn’t argue. You let out a deep breath, feeling exhausted. “Speaking of the children, I should probably go check on them.”

“I’m sure our dear brother has beaten you to it,” he snorts. “I should thank him really. He gave me some good counsel last night, which was surprising given the state he was in.”

“What did he say?”

“Something along the lines of how ungrateful I was and that I needed to cherish you before you were gone for good. I assured him I wouldn’t let you or the children out of my sight from now on, in case you disappear,” he chuckles darkly. “But he did make me see that I need to make more of an effort, and now that I’m here, he won’t need to be around you or them so much.”

The emotion you couldn’t place before returns, but now you can name what it was.

Fear.

Horrible, agonizing fear that something terrible was going to happen.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x you #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon fanfic #Aegon II Targaryen/you #Aegon II Targaryen smut #Aemond Targaryen x you #Aemond Targaryen smut #children of the dragon #Aemond Targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen/oc #house of the dragon fanfiction #aemond targaryen x original character #aemond targaryen/oc #aemond targaryen x female oc #aegon ii smut #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii x oc #aegon targaryen x fem oc #Aegon Targaryen x oc

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Skin-deep Chapter 2

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: I'm still reeling over the fact that people actually liked chapter 1. So originally this was supposed to be part of chapter 1, but I stupidly didn't add it in cause i was worried it would be too long. But anyway, when it's finished i will create a list so its not too confusing :D

The walk to uni wasn’t so bad. The weather was good, birds were out chirping, students chatting happily around you. You felt good after yesterday’s party. Nothing better than watching all your friends get pissed drunk while you were perfectly sober. 

You knew Mingyu wouldn’t make it to class this morning, his parents were visiting next week and he needed to make sure everything that was damaged was replaced and the things that were un-replaceable was fixed. That meant no morning coffee for you since Mingyu normally bought the two of you coffee. While in different courses, the both of you had arranged your classes so that you would have time to meet up in the morning before going into your individual classes. 

Naturally, this lead to many rumours. 

Mingyu was popular because of all his parties and money. It was no secret that Mingyu’s family owned a global hotel chain (which name rhymes with Lariott). He grew up being spoilt by his parents. Them buying him a house when he moved to uni was a good example. On a sensible 5000 square meters, they had built him an olympic sized swimming pool, the largest trampoline you had ever seen, a basketball court and a 10 bedroom mansion. The house was built by some renowned architect and was featured in architectural digest for being a masterpiece. Or that was what you heard.

It wasn’t just Mingyu who was rich, in fact his entire friend group had more money than the Kardashian’s combined. You regularly hung out with Soonyoung whose family owned some phone company in Korea which were the biggest rivals of the phone company with the fruit. Jeonghan and Joshua studied with you in the library. Jeonghan’s parents were some billionaires from Asia, you had no idea what they did, and Joshua’s parents owned some music companies in the US. Which ones? You had no clue. You, Seungkwan and Seokmin attended orchestra together, you were part of the strings section and them in the choir. Seungkwan’s father owned a few of the best law firms globally. Seokmin’s parents were in the rubber business, or something like that. 

People around campus labelled you as the charity case, the girl that Mingyu and his friends took in because they had extra money to spend. Some people called you a gold digger. Some people said you were fucking them for money. The list was endless and you were friendless. Girls didn’t  approach you because they all had the hots for Mingyu and Co. Several guys had tried to pay you to sleep with them, after declining with colourful language, you swore

Did it hurt your self-esteem? Not really, you never really cared for rumours. Sure, Mingyu paid for your coffee every morning, did you try to stop him? Yes, every morning. Does he listen? No. 

Then there was Seungcheol, his family started a tech company that had started growing meteorically when his father became the CEO. Apparently everybody in the world knew his family. He would show up at school with a different car everyday, girls would crowd around him in the hallways (which you found comical) and all the professors in the school sucked up to him thanks to his family’s generous donations. 

Seungcheol’s interest in you was a recent development, he made it his mission to flirt with you every time he was in the same vicinity as you. It was fun but you had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t special, he treated you the same way he treated other girls.

You weren’t immune to his advances, however. When he smiled at you, you could literally feel your legs turn into jello. When he spoke to you, you felt yourself wanting to continue the conversation just to hear what he had to say with that deep voice of his. It didn’t help that you shared common interests, he was a regular sting instrument player due to his upbringing, he had a penchant for reading journal articles as well as discovering new coffee places each week. Your texting history with Seungcheol’s rivaled that of yours and Mingyu’s and you've known Mingyu since you two were in diapers. 

Everyday you felt yourself getting closer to becoming one of Seungcheol’s hair twirling, pitchy, squeaky zombies. 

When you arrived for class, you sat alone at the corner. Coffee-less. None of your friends took your course, so you spent every class alone. You had tried to make friends at first, but they all ended up asking you to introduce them to Mingyu and Co. When you rejected to help, they would just flat out stop speaking to you. After the first few “friends”, you gave up. 

The professor started droning on about paediatric respiratory conditions and all you could think about is how much you wanted this to end. Throughout the lecture you received dirty looks from some whispering girls as usual. You recognised some of them from the night before, Seungcheol’s squeaky zombies. 

When the professor finally ended his speech (essentially talking to himself the entire time), you packed your bag and bolted out of the room, not wanting to deal with any of those girls. You were surprised to see Seungcheol just by the door. He was leaning against the wall, looking as cool as the devil himself. When he spotted you, he pushed himself off the wall and approached you with a coffee cup in hand. 

“Cheol? What are you doing here?” You said to him while adjusting your laptop bag. 

“You look in need of coffee, doll,” He smiled, holding out the coffee cup. Just as you were about to reach for it, he pulled back. You furrowed your eyebrows, staring at him. 

“Let’s trade,” He said holding an empty hand out, “Your bag for coffee.”

“What?” 

“Your bag first.”

“I-what?” 

“Jesus, princess, you really need coffee,” he pulled your bag off your shoulder with his free hand and pushed the coffee cup into your open palm. You sigh, not wanting to argue with him.

“Cheol, why are you here?” You ask in between sips, allowing yourself to soak up the sweet sweet embrace of coffee. “Thank you by the way.”

“Why not?” He said as his eyes traced your lips, memorising every shape and turn. His heart fluttered from how cute you looked doing the most mundane things like coffee drinking. 

“Cheol.”

“Mingyu told me he wasn’t coming in today so he asked one of us to get you coffee, I came because I wanted to see you. Happy?” He said, looking away at the last bit. “Now come on babe, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Do you enjoy questioning me, sweetheart?” 

“Yes.” You smiled at him mischievously, he grinned back at you.

He slung your bag over his shoulder. As the two of you walked, you dart around to try and grab your bag back from him. Amused by your efforts, he resorted to putting an arm around your shoulder, holding your arms down as he lead you to his car. 

The car in question was a black Ferarri Daytona SP3, you only know because people had been talking about it nonstop, that and your brother was a car person. The obvious choice and most sensible option for a uni student. A Ferarri. 

Many students were surrounding the car and snapping pictures, you knew with the way you two were walking you’d probably make the headlines of many group chats along with his car. As the two of you approached, the crowd seemed to part to allow Seungcheol to reach his car. 

“Ok, but seriously where are we going,” You said, squatting down to search for the door handle. How on earth do these doors open?

“Mingyu asked us to go over for food.” Seungcheol said, he softly brush your hand away and pulled the door open for you. The door swung upwards narrowly missing your head. 

You got into the car, carefully, not wanting to scratch the car and pay your entire school fees worth of damages, and as gracefully as possible. Seungcheol smiled fondly, watching you struggle to get into a car so low, he made a mental note to drive you in a higher car next time. 

“How was the party last night?” You said once Seungcheol started driving. 

“It was great, no thanks to you.” He said. He maneuvered through the crowd of students gathered around to admire his car.

Deciding to tease him a little bit more, you raised the pitch of your voice, “But Cheollie~ you had so many girls after you last night.”

“You left me to die,” He turned to give you a pout, “I saved you earlier but you threw me to the wolves.”

Placing a hand over his chest, “You hurt me, baby,” he declared. 

You giggled, finding him cute. When Seungcheol pulled out in Mingyu’s driveway, you noticed that everybody was already there from to the variety of supercars littering the front of the house. 

“Did you end up going home with any of them?” You asked trying to ignore the pang in your heart, you were only half joking right now.

The air shifted. Seungcheol’s expression unreadable, his eyebrows furrowed. “No, why would I?”

“Oh, cause if you did, you would have’ta thank me you know, I was technically your wingwoman.” You joked. 

He sighed, turning off the engine. You turned to open the car door but he reached over and pulled you towards him. You looked at him, his fingers laced with yours. 

“Why would I want any of them when I have you?” 

You tried your best not to take that to heart.

A/N2: Again, i welcome constructive criticisms, or any questions at all, just shoot me a dm or ask or whatever :)

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol fic #scoups fic #seungcheol fluff #seventeen seungcheol #choi seungcheol #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #svt fluff #seventeen #scoups #scoups fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #svt

[chocmoon-latte]

"Hancock has no regrets about becoming a ghoul"??

It baffles me when some people think Hancock has zero regrets about becoming a ghoul. Absolutely none at all apparently. Like yeah, he plays it up when you first meet him before he's a companion, but let's be real he plays up pretty much everything in regards to the whole "sexy king of the zombies" image he projects.

It takes travelling with you away from Goodneighbor to give him some time to be introspective for him to finally realize that him becoming a ghoul was just another escape route from himself again. He's got several lines of dialogue that literally reiterate this. It's a key point of his character:

Hell, running from myself is what made me into… into a damn Ghoul.

Well, I mean, I didn't always look this good. The drug that did this to me, that made me a Ghoul, I knew what it was going to do.

I just couldn't stand looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore.

The coward who'd let all those Ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys.

If I took it, I'd never have to look at him again. I could put that all behind me. I'd be free. Didn't seem like a choice at all. Turns out it was just me running from somethin' else in my life.

I mean, after reaching max affinity with you, he realizes that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all (because he's finally got an honest friend he can be open with now). He now feels comfortable where he is - but to imply that he doesn't have at least the tiniest amount of regret? Heck, if you go onto romance him (or attempt to), he stops referring to himself as handsome and literally starts calling himself ugly, which naturally goes entirely against the image he projects:

Why don't we just agree to keep it friendly for now or till they find a cure for ugly? Heh.

You don't want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.

You sure you want to be stuck with this ugly mug?

(You could even say he implies it beforehand with another line of dialogue elsewhere in-game when he says "I'd be mad too if I was that ugly." But that's a stretch I guess.)

Combine that with the fact that 99% of ghouls don’t choose to become ghouls. Hancock did. But he didn't do it for a fun experience. He was already in a bad place when he became a ghoul. He didn't turn to be cool and edgy like he pretended he did when first getting to know him.

He lost his appearance, any connections to his old identity and old friends/people he might’ve been associated with (for better or worse), and in return gained hostility from bigots towards him for merely existing, from an overwhelming majority of the Commonwealth population that hates ghouls. There's the Institute and Brotherhood who want to kill anyone like him on top of that. Plenty of people out there who think he and other ghouls are monsters for just being alive.

Not only that, but something which adds onto this is the fact that he's a client of the Memory Den, and they're very selective with their customers. And what's the whole point of the Memory Den? Reliving past memories. Irma's terminal entry about Hancock, as well as the other two ghoul clients Kent and Daisy, all imply the memories they go back to relive are primarily from their human days. (The one on Hancock straight up says "if you thought he was handsome and dangerous now, you should've seen him before he turned ghoul.")

I genuinely refuse to believe that Hancock has never had any regret whatsoever about becoming a ghoul. The man who's spent a decent chunk of his life running from his own problems instead of confronting them, has NO regrets about taking a drug that alters his entire being and functionality on a biological level and will force him to outlive everyone he knows? This man is FULL of regrets!

#I tried writing this out months ago initially. I don't believe it was ever posted #every main aspect of his character is about how he regrets his actions #that doesn't mean he'll hate himself forever though #fallout #fallout 4 #hancock #john hancock #I wrote the word regret too many times and it doesn't look real anymore

[misssakuramochi]

NOT QUITE REQUITED

In which the reader confesses to Alastor, not quite knowing what to expect

Fandom; Hazbin Hotel

Genre; Fluff (I guess)

Characters; Alastor, Reader

Pairing; One sided!ReaderxAlastor

a/n; I did my best on aroace!Alastor, but please feel free to give me any feedback you may have on writing an aroace person more accurately ❤️

---

Demonic ears perked, twitching ever so slightly as they picked up on the sound of soft footsteps coming their way. Each step was careful, near silent, as the demon behind them tried oh so desperately not to interrupt.

Normally this would alarm Alastor - he didn't become the ever famed (or perhaps innfamous) radio demon without pushing a few buttons. But, between the sound of the footsteps and the soft whispering that became apparent as it got closer, it wasn't difficult for Alastor to figure out just who was sneaking up behind him.

"Hello there, my dear." Head turning fully a moment before the rest of his body swung to match, Alastor met your surprised expression with his usual ear-to-ear grin. It made you jump, just a little, and yet you couldn't help but find the uncanny nature of the demon before you charming.

"Hi! Um, that is to say good evening. I was hoping you might have a quick moment to chat?" Alastor fed on the anxiety in your voice. It was pathetic in a way he found delictibly adorable, in his own way. Meek as you had begun, this was perhaps the boldest you'd been in your 5 attempts to tell the overlord of your feelings. At least, it was until you opened your mouth again.

"Unless you're busy! Of course that's fine, if you're busy I can come back later--" Alastor's smile twitched upwards, shifting for a moment from friendly to uncanny valley as he resisted the urge to chuckle. It was amusing, really, how shy you were-- how you thought for even a moment that he hadn't long since seen through you and your intentions.

"Too busy? For you?" The way you stopped dead, already pink, made Alastor want to eat you right up, "Never! Come now, tell me what it is you need." Speaking as if he didnt already know, Alastor's arm wrapped around your shoulder. He could feel you turn to lead under even the simplest of his touches, and he allowed himself to relish in the feeling of power for just a moment.

Leading you with a little more difficulty than anticipated towards the office he'd taken use of while in the hotel, you moved stiffly.

You found yourself almost unable to breathe this close to Alastor. About to confess in a way that you had imagined a thousand times, each another way it could go spectacularly wrong, your heart had fallen into your stomach. It sat like a lump, making you nauseous.

You'd tried this already, more times than yoy cared to count. Each time you'd found a reason not to confess. Each time, you'd scolded yourself for your cowardice. You couldn't let yourself down like that again.

"Now," you'd arrived at the office before you knew it, Alastor quickly ushering you onto one of the stools adjacent his desk before finding his place at the almost regal chair behind the desk, "What was it thay you needed from me?"

The way his voice lowered, eyes narrowed, made the lump in your throat almost impossible to speak around. He was trying to read you, discern out your real intentions. You knew him well enough to know when those eyes eyes were calculating.

It was strange to say the least that you had seemingly fallen so innocently for him. At least, Alastor thought so. After all, you, loathe as he was to admit it, knew him better than most. But, he supposed that strange as people often saw him as, you were... well, rather quirky yourself. That, and Alastor knew you - being able to read you like  a book was one of the reasons he'd let you get so close.

Ego and caution battled in Alastors brain as he half-listened to you ramble on, thanking him for his time as you tried to work up the nerve to say what you really meant.

"What I mean to say is... I kind of... well, really like you Alastor." There it was. Part of Alastor was relieved-- after all, on the one hand, he had been waiting nearly a month now for you to finally make your confession plainly rather than dancing around him like a sore subject. The other part, however, couldn't help but tense: because on the other hand, he had been dreading this encounter in equal measure to his expectation of it.

It wasn't that Alastor didn't like you, exactly - at least, in his own way. But love... well, even if he particularly wanted to he couldn't love you quite the way you would him. Or course, there was no way you could know this - personal facts were something Alastor kept close to his chest.

The way Alastor chucked, deep and less malicious than usual, set butterflies in your stomach. Their dance made you feel all the sicker, heart racing in an anticipatory fluster as clawed hands ruffled your hair.

"I am the beloved radio demon after all." Alastor could tell he hadn't quite nailed that landing when he felt you cringe at his words. Undeterred, his smile remained unchanged as he took back his hand and clasped it together with the other behind his back.

"So? What is it you're looking for then my dear?" The way Alastor sat across from you, leaning back and letting his hands rest into a steepled position made you feel like you were in a business deal.

"Um, I guess..." It was a question you didn't really know how to answer. What did you want out of this interaction? Of course, in your wildest fantasies you knew what you wanted -- to form a relationship. But this was Alastor, enigma extraordinaire. You had no idea how the man truly felt about anything let alone the idea of being in a romantic partnership. You could dream, perhaps, of a future by the demons side, but what did you realistically expect?

"I guess I just wanted to tell you. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I thought you deserved to know." Alastor blinked slowly, oke eye before the other. You'd done something extrodinsrially rare in this moment - you'd surprised him.

Unused to genuine connection, to kindness, especially whilst literally in hell with the actual worst of people, Alastor hadn't expected your reasoning to be so... selfless. Or benign. It was strange, and yet he couldn't help but feel his smile tug upwards, just a little. It was... amusing. It reminded him why he'd helped you find your way to the hotel in the first place.

"Well then thank you for telling me!" It would be a lie to say the lack of response didn't stirr a pot of disappointment in your gut. But, the way Alastor smiled at you, judgement free and unchanged, made you smile, "Now was there anything else?"

You couldn't help but laugh at how casual Alastor sounded, as if you hadn't just taken perhaps the biggest risk in your afterlife. Even as he tilted his head, not quite understanding your joviality, you simply smiled.

"Never change, Alastor."

#headcanon #imagine #oneshot #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #x reader #reader insert #fluff

[lots-of-pockets]

Everythings gonna be okay

Pairing: Scarlett x you

Words: 2078

Warnings: none that I know of

Summary: You and Scarlett had recently broken up. When you go to her house to pick up the last of your things, you see that she was nowhere to be found. Despite your better judgment, you decide to go and investigate. The sight that greets you all but breaks your heart.

You let out a near silent curse when you ring the doorbell for the third time and receive no answer. All you wanted to do was grab the rest of your things. You'd taken most of it the day you'd both decided to end things, but there were a few heavier items -such as your desktop computer- that you were unable to take with you due to the sheer size and weight.

Using your key was a last resort, something you didn't want to have to do unless it was absolutely necessary because, as much as it breaks your heart to admit, you weren't her girlfriend anymore. You couldn't just come and go as you please. That privileges was out the window the second you'd broken up.

But apparently you didn't have a choice, because the longer you stand here, the more evident it becomes that she wasn't going to answer the door. Your key slides into the lock with that same familiar ease, and your eyes take in the familiar sight of her entry way as you tentatively push open the door and step inside.

It looked the exact same, except for the light layer of dust lining each and every surface. Weird. Scarlett was, in the most polite way possible, a clean freak. She liked order and often became grumpy when things were even the slightest bit out of place.

You go to blame it on her just being busy, but the sight in the living room immediately halts you in your tracks. There were tissues everywhere, and there was that slight smell in the air of sweat and just overall sickness. You hate the fact that your stomach sinks in concern, because there was only one rational thing that could explain this.

Scarlett was sick, and had obviously been so for quite some time.

You couldn't help but freeze on the bottom of the staircase in a silent debate on whether or not you should go up. The part of you that was still very much in love with her wanted nothing more than to take care of her. But the ugly part of you, the one who was still so hateful over the ugly breakup wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here.

She'd been the one to distance herself. She'd been the one to not make time for you, and she'd been the one who'd told you to pack your things and get the hell out of her sight. Why should you repay that with kindness? Because you loved her, that's why. And despite the fact she'd broken your heart, the last thing you wanted was to see her suffer.

It wasn't like you. It never had been, and it never would be.

With a defeated sigh, you grasp the hand rail and begin to ascend the long staircase. You make it to the top in no time, and find yourself hesitating for only a short second before making your way down the hall towards the bedroom you'd once called your own.

You stand there like an idiot for what feels like forever before you finally find the courage in you to grasp the handle, and and as you push down, that same smell that had greeted you downstairs, only a little more intensified, was quick to fill your nostrils.

Scrunching up your nose in slight disgust, you enter the room and softly close the door behind you.

The curtains were closed encasing the room in a heavy darkness, but that doesn't stop you from being able to make out Scarlett's small figure laying in the centre of the large bed. You warily make your way over, and the first things you notice were the red tinged nose and quiet snores escaping her slightly parted lips. Her skin was pale, but her cheeks were flushed, signalling she had quite the fever, and you notice her body was trembling almost violently.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand was reaching out and brushing away the sweaty strand hair that had fallen into her face. That action almost immediately rouses her, and you wince slightly as her eyes blearily flicker open.

"Hi," you murmur, tentatively perching yourself on the end of the bed. "You're sick."

Scarlett furrows her eyebrows, almost as though she couldn't quite believe you were here. Her eyes, glassy from the fever induced haze were bloodshot, pupils huge telling you that she hadn't been getting very much sleep.

Her trembling hand reaches out for you, and you only hesitate briefly before taking it, the pad of your thumb instinctively grazing over the almost too warm skin.

Then, without any warning, her eyes fill with tears, her bottom lip trembles, and she was letting out a stifled sob before attempting to sit up. You frown in concern as you scoot yourself a little closer, leaning forward and slipping an arm beneath her body before tugging her to your chest. She lets out wet, gravely sounding cough when her sobs catch in her throat, and you wince at the painful sound as you use your other hand to cup the back of her head.

"It's okay," you murmur into her hair, "you're okay. I'm here. I've got you."

Scarlett let's out a choked sob as she shakes her head, and you let out a soft, defeated sigh as you hold her as close as you could. She smelt less than pleasant, so you knew once of your tasks today would be getting her into the shower.

This was the last thing you'd expected to happen. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you'd expected her to be mad for invading her space. To tell you to go away just as she'd done no more than a week ago. A part of you still expects that to happen, because you knew this whole emotional mess was just her fever talking. She didn't actually want you here, but you couldn't just leave her to cry.

You hold her close for a few silent moments before easing her body back down onto the bed, bringing your hands up to cup her cheeks. "I'm going to get you some medicine, okay?" You gently wipe away the tears with the pads of your thumbs.

Scarlett's trembling hands reach to grasp your wrists, almost as though she was silently pleading to you to not let go.

Her touch sends shivers throughout your whole entire body, and you just about manage to refrain from pulling yourself of her her grasp as you force the corners of your lips into a small smile.

"It's okay," you reassure, "I'll be back."

Thankfully, though she visibly hesitates, Scarlett does let you go, and you try and make your breath of relief as subtle as possible as you make your way through to the bathroom. In here was just as, if not worse than her bedroom, and you make a mental note to give it a thorough clean before you leave as you grab the Tylenol and cough medicine from the cabinet.

When you make your way back through to her bedroom with your arms full, you notice that Scarlett was now sat up against the headboard of her bed. She appears to be staring into space, and your lips quirk up at the corners in slight adoration as you climb in next to her.

"Here," you murmur, pouring the correct dose of cough medicine into the small plastic cup before handing it over. Her trembling hand takes it, and she sniffles wetly as she tilts it back and swallows with only a slight grimace. You ignore the urge you have to praise her as you hand over the Tylenol and water, watching as Scarlett repeats the same steps as before.

This time, however, she must have swallowed wrong, because she begins to cough forcefully into her hands. You watch her, eyebrows furrowed in concern as you reach out to steadily pat her back.

"Take a deep breath, you're okay." You sooth, and Scarlett nods, trying her best to comply despite the fact she seems to be unable to catch her breath. Her chest heaves with each ragged exhale, and her already flushed cheeks taking on an even darker shade of red signalling not enough oxygen was getting into her lungs. You were forced to swallow the tightness in your own throat.

"Scarlett, breath." You instruct as you reach to grab the bottle of the water from the nightstand, your hand still firmly patting her back. Scarlett attempts to let out a hoarse breath, but she does no more than choke further.

By now, panicked tears were streaming down her cheeks, and you could feel your own heart beginning to pound. Hauling her body into your arms, you lay her down on her side and raise her arms above her head. You lay behind her propped up on your elbow, resting your hand against her heaving chest and rubbing firmly.

"You're okay. I'm here. You're okay." You sooth, pressing a tender kiss against the side of her head.

Scarlett let's out another wet cough before somehow managing to catch her breath, and it was only then does let out a soft sob. With tears in your own eyes, you tug her around to face you and pull her against your chest. You hold her as close as you could, your hand grazing soothing circles up and down her back. Your other hand cups the back of her head, fingers combing through her tangled tresses.

"I-I don't.. don't feel w-well." She chokes out as she desperately clutches at your shirt, and you nod as you press your lips against the top of her head.

"I know baby." You murmur, "I know."

She stifles another sob against you at the nickname, and you instinctively tighten your grasp around her. You hadn't meant to say it. It had just slipped out because that was all you ever used to call her. She's your baby. Or well, she was. You feel your throat tighten at the thought, and you swallow heavily to refrain from bursting into tears as you hold Scarlett close.

A comfortable silence soon falls upon you with the exception of her slightly hoarse breathing, and it wasn't long until you feel Scarlett fall limp against you signalling she'd fallen asleep.

*

A few hours later, you find your self sat in the bathroom with your back to the tub. Scarlett was curled up in the water, sniffling softly as the hot water clears her congestion. Not a word had been spoken since earlier, but the silence surrounding you wasn't awkward. It was almost...comforting, which was surprising considering the circumstances.

But the silence doesn't last for long.

"I'm sorry." A quiet murmur.

You turn your head slightly, seeing the bare skin of her back from your peripheral vision, "For what? Getting sick? That's not your fault."

Scarlett sniffles softly, "No, not for that. For...for what happened. A week ago." She explains, her voice trailing off into a soft, trembling murmur.

You let out a soft breath as you twist a loose thread hanging off of your jeans around your finger, "You don't have to apologise. What happened, happened. It's in the past."

Everything was silent again, but the shuddering breath that escapes from Scarlett's lips does not  go amiss. It has you turning to face her, and your heart breaks when you see her crying silently. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her bottom lip was trembling as though she was trying to hold back the onslaught of sobs.

"Scarlett..." you trail off, not knowing what to say.

Her lips quirk up into a sad smile as she wipes off her cheeks, "It's okay." She whispers.

With a soft sigh, you shift to your knees and lean forward to press a kiss to the warm skin of her forehead. As you pull away, you raise a hand to cup her cheek, the pad of your thumb grazing softly over her skin. "We'll talk. When you're better. Okay?"

"Okay." Scarlett murmurs, reaching up to cover your hand with her own.

**

I’m open to a part 2 if you guys want it!

#scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson #reader insert #sick!scarlett Johansson x reader #sickfic #marvel #mcu #snzfic #fluff #Scarlett Johansson sickfic #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader

[geekgirles]

Lady Echo: A Character Analysis

Before we dive in, there's something about me you should know. I'm a TV Tropes truther. That site is my Bible. If a piece of media interests me, then you'd better believe I have visited its TV Tropes page.

And because of that, Echo in particular is a character I've been meaning to talk about for a while now, because I get the feeling people tend to overlook what I feel is the true core of her character at the end of season 3.

As you can see, while other tropes go more into detail about her true motivations behind betraying Oropo, that part of her character ends up being reduced to being a Woman Scorned, and while that certainly applies here, I really don't think that's the trope that best encapsulates her character and her decisions at the end of the season.

A Woman Scorned is essentially any woman who has been wronged by the person she loves and seeks revenge or has at least expressed great anger. And it can go from being cheated on by a partner, or simply being rejected by their love interest and not taking it well. And both heroic and villainous characters can be the ones to break her heart. In fact, Arpagone too would be an example of this trope, as even if her feelings for Ruel are still there, most of her actions are motivated by the pain she feels for his decision to choose money over her.

As you can see, this all fits with Echo's actions and feelings at the end of season 3, but it's very general overall. Which is why, in my humble opinion, Echo is a better example of Love Forgives All but Lust.

This trope is essentially a deconstruction of tropes centred around the appeal bad boys have for women. The thing about women falling for bad boys is that those women tend to know they're bad news, and beyond a desire to be the ones to change them, the real reason that interest is born is because they're attracted to the idea of the bad boy being a jerk to everyone, but them. Love Forgives All but Lust is what happens when the woman is rudely awakened from that delusion.

In other words, when they realise not even they are safe from their partner's worst actions. And what is the best way to have a woman feel betrayed to the point of seeking revenge? Unfaithfulness.

Sure, they will forgive their partner if it turns out he's a serial killer, but if he cheats? Then he's the one who's dead.

And example of Love Forgives All but Lust is when the police is trying to get a mafioso's wife/girlfriend to testify against her lover, but she refuses to cooperate... until she discovers her husband/boyfriend has a lover, then she'll do everything to bring him down.

If you think about it, this is essentially what happened between Echo and Oropo after he revealed he only ever "loved" Amalia. Even if Echo is a much more active player in Oropo's machinations than simply being aware of them, having helped him carry over his plans for centuries as his second-in-command.

After he kissed Amalia and claimed Echo never meant anything to him compared to her, that's when Echo totally lost it. And her subsequent actions are a direct result of his betrayal. It never had anything to do with Echo seeing the error of her ways, as we all know.

Think about it, it wasn't until Oropo chose Amalia over her, after everything they had ever been through, that Echo truly struck. Once it became apparent her lover didn't care for her nearly as much as she cared for him, that's when Echo revealed his true plans: to destroy the gods, he must destroy the World of Twelve and deprive them of followers. In other words, he was willing to commit mass genocide for the sake of his dream.

Moreoever, the fact that she got to reveal the true extent of his plans at all already highlights that only she knew about them. All along, Echo knew what Oropo was planning, the consequences of his dreams, and she never once stopped believing in his cause. Their conversation in episode 6 even going as far as explaining Echo already believed in him and supported his dreams before ever falling for him, meaning she can't even excuse her actions by saying her feelings blinded her. Because she was perfectly aware of Oropo's plans all along.

And yet, that didn't stop her from loving him. If anything, it was only another reason she fell in love with him.

No, it wasn't until Oropo broke her heart that she ever went against him.

If you ask me, this all reads as Echo not minding Oropo's most questionable tendencies because she was convinced she was exempt from ever being at the receiving end of his worst actions. After all, she had been by his side the longest, witnessing how he got rid of demigods that failed to meet his standards or were no longer useful (going with what the show claims, I haven't read Ogrest's manga). It wasn't until he kissed Amalia and shoved her aside that Echo realised not even she was safe from him.

And it was because Oropo had had no qualms to screw her over that Echo decided it was her turn to screw him over. And hence, she revealed his plans to the Brotherhood of the Forgotten, not because she'd seen the error of her ways, but because Oropo had hurt her and she wanted to make him bleed in turn.

In the end, Echo's actions weren't fuelled solely by revenge or even jealousy, they were fuelled by the bitter realisation that she never meant as much to Oropo as he meant to her. It was about realising he had no qualms hurting her, not about how he had no qualms hurting anyone else.

It was about Echo not being enough for Oropo.

And for me, that's why Echo is a better example of Love Forgives All but Lust.

#wakfu #wakfu spoilers #kinda? #wakfu season 3 #lady echo #oropo #the brotherhood of the forgotten #amalia sheran sharm #yugo the eliatrope #demigods #coqueline #count harebourg #toxine #adamaï #black bump #ush galesh #kali #dathura #arpagone #poo #dark vlad #goultard #sipho #love forgive all but lust #woman scorned #wakfu analysis #eliotropes #trope analysis #tv tropes

[saddestsquid]

First Miguel fic + 250+ follower special ୨୧

I’d like to start off by saying THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS !! And 2000+ notes?!? omg. I checked my inbox a few times and saw 99+ notifs every time, and when I tell you I SCREAMED. As a new writer I can’t thank you enough for all the notes and sweet comments ! I’m so grateful, so take this fic as a thank you <33

Warnings: Miguel is hinted to have slept with socks on which….is a trigger on its own apparently 😥, potentially botched ass Spanish……(no Google translate was used tho, my French teacher taught me better than that), p in v, making out, grinding, slight blood, reader has no chill nor filter but Miguels lowkey into it, degradation, bondage, banter, oral, praise, etc.

a/n: Takes place before the whole Miles incident !! I love Miguel but I can’t forgive him for doing that to my son 🤨🤨 This could also be imagined as König, since they’re both huge stubborn men <33

Pairing: Female reader x Miguel O’Hara 

Summary: Miguel is pent up and needs a release. Lucky for him, there’s a certain spider woman who’d do anything for him <3

Words: 4141 (DAMN I shocked myself w this)

. . .

Miguel runs his hand through his hair, grumbling when he feels it’s getting to a length that needs cutting again. Just another thing to add to his pile of responsibilities.

He pushes the fumbled blanket off to the side and lazily palms at his morning wood, finding the ministrations do little to help his raging hard-on. He’s shocked, mainly that he could still get one with how tense he’s been lately, but mostly that he’s actually annoyed that he has to jerk off. It feels like a chore to him now…though taking care of himself in any sense has since he became Spider-Man.

With a sleepy groan he drags himself up and to the bathroom. His mismatched socks are soft against the cool bathroom tiles where he turns on the shower. His muscles stretch when he tugs his white sweater over his head and tosses it onto the ground nearby, abs tensing and shoulders refusing to relax no matter how much stretching he did.

When the rest of his clothing join the heap on the floor he steps into the freezing cold shower, twitching at the icy droplets that felt like tiny icicles poking into his taut skin. 

He hoped the temperature would make the nuisance go down, but it raged on, standing proud at its full height. Miguel never thought he’d find himself glaring at his own dick, but here he was, horny and heavily pissed off. 

He reached down and tugged at his cock, rubbing his thumb over the angry red tip. He jerked profusely, yet all it did was leave him feeling unsatisfied and humiliated. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, washing his hand off before aggressively turning the knob to stop the flowing water. He tried to remember what he had to do today while pacing the bathroom, but he couldn’t focus with his erection clouding  his thoughts. Maybe if the blood would stay in his head…

He was an attractive guy, he knew that much. It would be easy to go out into the town and hook up with some stranger, but not so much so when he was in this constant sour mood. That sullen energy & resting bitch face paired with his looming height would scare any woman away.

Any sane woman.

You tied up the last of the criminals in your silky webs, smiling in victory. Unfortunately, the joy wasn’t long-lasting since as soon as you got home you felt boredom creeping up on you once again.

For weeks you’d been entertained by the intimidating founder of the spider society; Miguel O’Hara.You’d been bugging him for days on end, literally drooling at his feet and begging him to come back to your place.

He kicked you out multiple times, but like a cockroach you couldn’t be squashed—and neither could your need for him. You just couldn’t take a hint apparently. When he picked you up by the back of your suit and threw you back into your universe, all you focused on was how easily he carried you with just one of his big, veiny hands.

The way that suit hugged his defined chest so well, and his massive arms where you could see every vein…plus that prominent bulge? You were sunk.

He’d finally run out of patience for you when you ‘accidentally’ messed with the tech for his suit, almost making him go full commando in front of everyone in the spider society.(wouldn’t be the last time that happened…) He banned you for good, taking away your ‘multiversal gizmo’ without a second thought.

Your last words being ‘worth it!’ as you were flung back into your universe by the go-home-machine seemed like the icing on the cake to him despising you forever, but apparently that wasn’t the case because the man himself just appeared in your living room.

“Y/N.” He addressed nonchalantly.

You stared at him, jaw agape for a few moments before pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. You had to be, he basically filed a restraining order against you. A really complicated, multiversal restraining order. Why  would he ever voluntarily come to you?

You couldn’t even respond since your throat felt so dry .. . It seemed your body had other ideas of where to soak.

“Why are you so obbsesed with me?” He suddenly asked, paying no mind to your awkward silence. 

“uhm-“

“I mean, you chased me around every day, eyed me down so intensively it was basically public sex and yet here you are, alone with me like you wanted, and now you’re speechless?” He stalked around your living room, circling you like a bird of prey.

You blushed up a storm and stood frozen in front of him, trying to discretely rub your thighs together.

He eyed you down, noticing your obvious ministrations but only chuckling. “Sometimes I had wished you were an actual spider so I could crush you under the soles of my shoes, but lately I’ve found myself feeling as horny and desperate as you.” He admitted with a smirk that revealed his sharpened fangs. 

That confession had your mind reeling to the point all you could muster up was; “I would’ve let you step on me regardless.”

His smirk grew and he started to approach you until his shadow covered you completely. You had to tilt your whole head up to look him in his glowing red eyes now—but you couldn’t handle making the eye contact anyway.

“You are just a small little thing, yet I didn’t expect you to be all bark no bite. All those filthy things you said lingered in my mind..don’t you want to take care of what you started?” He asked in a deliciously low voice. The almost mocking manner he said it in made you feel called out, and you looked down at your hands and picked at your nails to try and calm yourself.

A clawed finger tilted your head up by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes. How could you forget—in all your time spent basically stalking him you noticed how he never broke eye contact with anyone that he was speaking to. It was both exhilarating and intimidating to see, and you felt that full force while finally being on the receiving end of it. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, arañita.” He ordered, and it sent tingles shooting up your spine.

You swore you heard your neck crack from how fast you looked up at him. He looked predatory staring down at you like that, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “So? Will you finish what you started muñeca?” He asked, as if it was even a question to you.

“Fuck yes.” You agreed without missing a beat, making him chuckle darkly. “Needy thing.”

Before your mind could catch up you were suddenly being lifted by him and thrown on his shoulder with ease. He walked through the halls of your cozy apartment and waltzed into your bedroom without even searching for it, carelessly throwing you onto the bed.

You landed with a bounce on the soft comforter, feeling even smaller now with him standing above you. “Wha- how do you know where my bedroom is?” You asked when your brain finally decided to have a rational thought. 

“I’ve done my research—wanted to make sure you weren’t a spy. It was a waste of time, really, you’re just a horny stalker.” He shrugged.

You stared at him with an offended expression (tho it was 100% true) and went to argue until your lips were suddenly sealed by sticky red webs.

 “On your back.” He ordered. 

You crossed your arms at him first until he repeated the command in a low, dangerous voice. “Now.” Any defiance you had pretended to have quickly left your body and you laid down flat on the silk sheets.

He stalked over to you, all big and menacing as always. He leaned over you and forced your wrists together, twirling more glowing silk around them until they were bound above your head. 

He smirked down at you, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your neck. He sucked dark hickeys onto the sensitive skin of your throat, enjoying your muffled moans. While before he found your voice excruciating—he was now desperate to hear it crying out his name.

He stripped the webs off your mouth and you whined at the pain. The feeling resembled a bandaid being ripped off a fresh cut. He cooed pitifully above you and leaned in, whispering “Pobre araña, why don’t I kiss it better?” 

You nodded desperately until his lips met yours with a slight sting. He growled into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and exploring your mouth until you were squirming. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sharp canines threatening to break the skin. He pushed his muscled thigh between your legs and pressed down on your clit with his knee, the pressure making you moan under him. Your sweet sounds drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but bite down lightly on your lip until tiny droplets of blood dripped onto his tongue.

He groaned at the taste, his animalistic split-DNA going wild. When he pulled back—lips reddened, hair tussled and fallen slightly in front of his face— you couldn’t help but stare. His face looked so much more chiseled up close, cheekbones perfectly defined and a jawline sharper than the claws currently resting on your hips. 

His toned chest rose up and down steadily while he regained his breath, the familiar spider symbol on his suit growing bigger then smaller with each rise of his lungs like it was breathing. 

“Let’s take care of these, Cariño.” He addressed your clothing as if it were nothing but a nuisance for him before slicing your shirt right off you. He did this with ease, big claws moving onto your bottoms and clawing those off as well.

“Hey! Those were nice.” You pouted, though apparently he didn’t appreciate that comment because you were now being tied up even worse than before. Webs spewed from his wrist and circled your body like serpents, tying around your waist, arms, and thighs. “Don’t be a brat.” He ordered, webs tightening in warning. Once satisfied, he admired the way they looked pulled taut against your soft skin. “Red looks lovely on you, amor.” He praised, a quick switch from his previous comment.

He lifted you and reached behind your back, unclasping your bra with one hand. He threw it onto the ground somewhere with your torn up clothes, focusing his attention on your soft tits.

He hummed in content, playing with your nipples and letting his webs circle around the soft flesh of your breasts. He licked and sucked at one while tugging on the other, making you moan and squirm under him.

“Fuck Miguel- ah! more!” You whined desperately, coaxing a chuckle out of the behemoth. 

“Such a desperate slut.” He tutted, sucking marks all over your chest to match your throat. He kissed over the already forming hickeys, grazing his teeth dangerously close to your jugular. This man was massive, and made of pure muscle like a Greek god. He could easily hold you down without the help of his webs, but he wanted to focus full attention on you. 

He finally moved down to where you needed him most, going to rip your panties straight off you before you rudely slammed your thighs shut. “You take off your suit first….” You whined, embarrassed at being nearly completely nude before him while he was still covered. He was genuinely offended by this, feeling like he’d just had a door slammed on his face, yet he grumbled and messed around with his watch until the hologram started to dissipate.

Your jaw dropped wider and wider the more you took him in. The man resembled a skillfully carved statue belonging to Olympus itself. His biceps and abs were enough to challenge even Ares himself. Your eyes trailed lower and lower, leisurely mapping him out until your eyes locked on the weapon between his legs.

His dick stood loud and proud against his toned stomach, and it was massive. The man is 6,9, you knew he’d be big, but this thing was around 9 inches and looked like it could rip you in half. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it even if you tried—I mean—the thing was basically introducing itself to you. We’re talking hello, how are you and goodbye.

Miguel basked in your ogling, his ego swelling more than it already had since he first noticed your obsession with him.

You finally snapped out of your trance when he bent down and slipped off your soaked panties, kissing up your leg as he did so. You spread both your legs for him and he took that as an invitation to lean in and lick a stripe up your wet cunt. You jumped, not expecting him to get into it so quickly, but you definitely didn’t complain.

He prodded a finger at your hole and pushed it in slowly, holding your hips down with his free hand. He made sure to be mindful of the claws adorning his fingertips since they wouldn’t go back down thanks to his clouded mind. The thick digit went in without much resistance thanks to how wet you were, until he pushed in a second and started scissoring them. 

You moaned and whimpered at the stretch, two of his thick fingers the size of nearly four of yours. He pumped them in and out quickly, the slick sounds your pretty hole made for him music to his ears. Your slick dripped down his ring and middle fingers that he was ruthlessly pumping inside you and dribbled down his veiny forearm.

He massaged your walls and pushed against them, scissoring his fingers to stretch you as much as possible. He couldn’t hit your g-spot thanks to his clawed fingertips, so he sucked at your clit to fill that extra stimulation until your head was rolling back. 

Something circled your waist and you figured it was his arm until you looked back down to see more webs. You would wriggle far too much without them, and he needed his other hand to spread your folds to drag a mix of his salvia and your slick around your twitching clit. You mewled at the overwhelming stimulation, bucking onto his face while he had a full on make out sesh with your pussy.

Only when he finally sunk four fingers into you and you were basically on the brink of tears with need did he pull away. Not without blowing on your sensitive clit, of course, just to see you twitch and squirm under the unrelenting grasp of his webs.

He stood up with a playful smile, freeing you from some of the webs just to pull you to the edge of the bed. Your ass met his pelvis with a slap when he yanked you by the ankle that quickly locked around his waist. He chuckled out something in Spanish that you didn’t understand, maybe along the lines of “Qué bonita putita…”. You didn’t bother to question it when he started to grind his rock hard dick on your drooling pussy, getting him all nice and wet to push into you. 

Only when he was coated completely in your essence did he listen to your pleas and finally line his fat tip up at your hole. Even with the all the stretching, your poor cunt had to stretch to accommodate the swollen red tip. His pre-cum mixed with your juices when it finally popped in after some resistance, and he groaned at the warm feeling.

“So fucking tight, your poor pussy can’t take it, hm? You were so confident when you were begging for it like a desperate whore.” He growled, degradation making you clench Impossibly tighter around his head until he had to bite back a groan.

“Please Mig, I can take it.” You begged, rutting your hips onto him and trying to coax him deeper until he swiftly grabbed your waist. His claws dug into your skin, threatening to break through. He pulled back and you immediately assumed he was going to tease you again for being desperate. 

Straight away you whined out apologies, stumbling over your words and pleas until he suddenly slammed back inside you, cramming 5 of his solid inches into your hole. You screamed, tears brimming on your waterline at the stretch. Your back arched off the bed and you squirmed away from the sting until he pulled back and rutted back in again, almost as if testing the waters.

With every drag of his hips his cock slowly got deeper into you until he was bottomed out completely. His tip kissed against your cervix and you looked down, amazed and horrified to see him crammed inside you so snugly. He gave you a moment to compose yourself—preoccupied on the bulge in your lower stomach. 

“My good girl, fitting around me so perfectly. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He teased, dick twitching at the fucked out moan you gave in response.

It definitely was hard, yet his dick was harder. You could feel every single vein and ridge pressing into you, rubbing against your gummy walls in a way that left you drooling. You suddenly understood why he’d prepped you for so long. It wasn’t just to tease you, this just was not an easy thing to take. 

“Move,” you pleaded, correcting youself when he raised an eyebrow, “please.”

He hummed, palming at the fat of your hips to see the way your skin sunk under his touch. “I don’t know Cariño…do you really deserve this dick?” 

You gave him your best “are you for real?” face. This man was not about to make you beg when he was the one to randomly show up in your home. You’d been begging on your knees for him for months, and now he chooses to acknowledge it?

You made it your personal mission to go against everything he’s ever ordered from you, and the grind never does stop, does it?

“Like you deserve to kiss my ass?” You jest without hesitation. 

You can see the way his whole face stretches; clearly dumbfounded at your response before he’s able to compose himself. With your cunt wrapped around him so tight and warm like that, it’s easy to forget the pretty spider underneath him is a little rascal.

“You were just whining a second ago, don’t try that,” He warned. “You’ve been begging for it for months, practically humping my leg in front of the entire Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Universe.” 

You groaned at his insistence on calling it that, even while balls deep inside you. “I didn’t sign up to fuck a geek,” you mutter.

“With the way you approached me I’m sure you’d fuck just about anyone, puta.”

You wanted to be insulted, but your words caught in your throat when he leaned close to you to whisper right into your ear; “Quit acting like you had any dignity in the first place and beg.”

His warm breath on your nape left you shivering. Miguel wasn’t human—not completely. With DNA mixed with a spiders, he was a predator; one ready to devour you whole.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone really when you gradually let quiet pleas spill from your mouth. Miguel had half the mind to make you speak up, but he was loosing his thin amount of patience as is. With a satisfied click of his tongue, he pulled back until his flushed head was right at your entrance “see, was that so hard?”

You knew better than to try and answer at this point when he rammed his cock back into you. Huge hands gripped your thighs and pushed your legs into your chest while he bullied his dick further and further into your cunt. 

Your pussy was embarrassingly loud for him, squelching with each brutal thrust of his hips. His muscled thighs were tense with the pure strength he put into slamming into you—beating your sensitive pussy in until it memorized his shape for life. 

“Mig- ah! Holyfuck!” You screamed, draping your arms over his shoulders and scratching at his back like a cat post.

“Go on princesa, mark me up.” He encouraged and got a better grip on your thighs, pushing your legs out to a full spread. He had you displayed like a dinner feast and bent you like a lawn chair with your lower half on his toned chest. He was actually impressed at your flexibility, yet like always he chose the worst way to phrase it.

“I’m shocked, I never expected you to do any real training.” 

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what you’ve been wanting, is it not?” He gloated with such a shit-eating expression that you just had to wipe off his face. He sunk deeper into you when you pulled him in for a kiss and it had you clenching around him.

His thrusts got more erratic until your mind was clouded with only the sounds of his dick disappearing into your cunt. His hands were dragging you back onto him by the hips at the same time, so you could feel him bumping against your cervix with each thrust.

You were too fucked out to say anything other than broken moans and mewls of his name, and he wasn’t too far off.

“So pretty Cariño,” he groaned, “all for me? mierda- yeah, all for me.”

A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your bruised lips in response. He pounded your pussy with so much vigour that you edged forward on the ruffled mattress with each rough thrust.

He massaged your throbbing clit between his fingers, laughing at the way they kept slipping around from how much of your own arousal was dripping down your cunt. Heavy balls slapping against your soft skin filled your ears when you felt that coil in your stomach start to snap.

“Pussys gripping me like a fucking vice- you gonna cum for me?” he teased, “look baby- look at how well this sweet little pussys taking me.”

He took your hand and lead it down until it was tracing the prominent bump in your stomach - You could feel every brutal thrust and see the way he ravaged your insides. You pressed down on it, getting impossibly tighter around him and the broken moan he let out was what got you.

He quickly tore a mind-numbing orgasm out of you - thick cockhead still splitting you open while he worked your clit. You soaked his cock and squeezed against it, shaking and crying under him until you could barely take it anymore. 

He smiled in pride, sharp fangs showing and making him resemble the waiting mouth of a shark. “Such a good fucking girl, coming all over me like that. Look at the mess you’ve made,” he hummed, observing the noticeable white ring you left around the base of his cock. 

His thrusts stuttered before stilling completely inside you. He made a noise akin to an animal before spilling his hot cum inside your welcoming heat with a shudder and a broken moan.

“Mfhm- mierda.. .” He cursed, his warmth filling you up so much it started to spill out.

You felt like a rag doll under him, half-asleep and smiling dumbly up at him. He chuckled and admired one last time how pretty you looked in his glowing red webs, wrapped around you like his own custom lingerie. 

He sliced them off you and smiled warmly when you raised your arms out to him. He leaned in to let you wrap your arms around his massive shoulders with your legs now wrapping around his waist.

He picked you up with you curled into him like a koala - the warm sensation of his cum dripping down your connected bodies grounding you while he walked to your bathroom. 

He pressed soft kisses to your marked up-neck while he ran a warm bath, rubbing at the indents his claws subconsciously left on your hips. 

You didn’t remember exactly when you fell asleep; somewhere between when his large hands washed the cum off your skin or when he gently laid you down on your fresh bedsheets. 

All you knew was that you woke up to the smell of clean laundry and noticed snacks and a water bottle left on your nightstand. There was a note too that you had to reach over to grab. His handwriting was smudged but fancy, and it was so adorably him that it left you smiling ear to ear. 

“Had to leave early. Meet me in my office tomorrow and we’ll discuss how you’ll be living in my universe from now on ,seeing as how you’re now mine, mi vida.” 

. . .

#atsv miguel #This was supposed to be a 100 follower special #But I’ve been slacking yall… #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel 2099 #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv #itsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the verse #spiderman #spidersona #arachnids #spider society #smutty fanfiction #webs #Miguel fucking o’hara #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x spidersona #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you

[dark-frosted-heart]

I'm His Cherished Doll - Roger Barel

Event bonus story

Things get a bit nsfw toward the end. Jfc that end.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Roger is his own warning.

Crown surrounds me, who accidentally took a shrinking drug.

(I need to make a good choice. Who I want to take care of me is-)

Kate: Roger, can you take care of me? (I think being with Roger will be the fastest way to return to normal)

Roger: What a coincidence. I was thinking of sticking to you.

Kate: Huh…

Roger smiles wickedly and grabs me with one hand.

Roger: No way I’m handing an interesting experiment to another guy. Right?

Kate: Right? Wait…

I made the wrong choice?!

Victor: Roger, if you do anything bad to Kate, I, Victor, won’t stay quiet about it!

Roger: Yeah, yeah. I gotcha. Come on, let’s go little lady.

Kate: It’s not like I can go anywhere else with you grabbing me…

Victor: Kate!

Ellis: There they go…

Victor: Wah…I wanted to take care of her. You’re so sneaky Roger.

Harrison: You were pretending to worry about Kate, but really, you just wanted to take care of her.

~~~

Roger sets me down on a desk in his lab.

(Everything looks different than usual)

(Of course they do since I’m tiny now…)

Roger: Hey little lady. Does your skin feel the same as usual?

Roger pokes my cheek with his index finger.

Kate: Oof. H-hold on…

Roger: Hmm, no change here. Then, how about here?

The finger that was touching my cheek starts stroking my neck.

Kate: Ah…

(I just made a weird noise…)

Roger: No change here? You’re still the same sensitive, vocal little lady.

Kate: P-please stop teasing me like that.

I try to remove his finger, but Roger grabs me again.

Frustrated by being in his clutches (literally and figuratively), I flail in his hold.

Kate: Ugh-

Roger: Pfft, haha. Cu~te.

(Honestly, the more you bully someone, the better your smile)

Our interactions are surprisingly the same as usual.

I was anxious because of how my body changed, but with how we’re still acting the same as usual, I feel like things will work out.

(Alright, let’s find out what I can do!)

Kate: Roger, please let me help you with your research. I’ll do my best to return to normal.

Roger: Yeah, of course. Then Kate, you’ll-

Kate: Nn…

(Mm…I…fell asleep? When?)

It’s dark in the basement so I can’t tell for sure, but I’m certain it’s already midnight.

When I was going to help Roger with his research, I apparently fell asleep.

(I have good stamina, but with my body like this, I probably get more tired than usual)

(Huh…?)

At this moment, I realize that I was sleeping on something.

(This is Roger’s vest. Then…)

Roger: …

I look over to see Roger alone at his work table.

Comparing the various test tubes, he pinches his glabella and lets out a deep sigh.

Roger: Ha…

Damn it… Isn’t this it?

(I’ve never seen Roger look so serious before…)

I can’t take my eyes off his side profile.

Even after I became like this, Roger stayed the same.

Roger’s mean, egotistical, and always teases me.

(But this isn’t the same as usual…)

Even if it was my fault, Roger was the one that made the drug I took.

(You were acting like that because you knew I was anxious, weren’t you?)

The more time I spend with Roger, the more I realize just how strong and unwavering he is.

If there’s anyone in the world that can survive on their own, then it’s someone like him.

(Roger’s never needed my support…)

(I know that)

(I know that, but…)

Roger: Hm? Oh, you’re awake, Sleeping Beauty.

Kate: …Yeah. Um, Roger...

Roger: Hm?

Kate: Would you mind lowering your head a bit?

Roger: Sure? No problem, but what’s up?

I approach his bowed head…

(Why do I want to be nice to this person?)

I gently pat his head with my tiny hand.

Kate: Thank you for trying to find a way to get me back to normal. I’d love to return to normal of course, but… But if I can’t, then I’m fine with that too.

Roger: … You’re fine with that, are you. That’s just like our robin.

I’m sure he can see through my bluff.

However, I really wanted to let him know that I’m fine.

(I just wish that I could say it better…)

While I’m sulking over how awkward I was, Roger smiles at me.

Roger: Hey, little lady… If you don’t return to normal, then how about we get married?

Kate: …………huh? M-married?

Roger: I can do research by your side. You can spend your time laughing and  smiling while I’m being mean to you.

Not bad, don’t you think?

I was surprised by his sly grin and how he just said that without hesitation that I couldn’t help but laugh.

Kate: Hehe, I wouldn’t want you to be mean to me for the rest of my life, but maybe that’s okay. 

Roger: Right? Well, I haven’t given up on getting you back to normal either.

Roger sits back in his chair and shuts his eyes.

Roger: I’m gonna nap for a bit. Wake me up in 15 minutes.

Kate: Eh? Then you should lie down properly-

Roger: Zzz…

(He’s already asleep…)

I stare at his face, which looks a little more innocent now that his eyes are closed, and then look down at my hand that had touched his hair earlier.

(He’s selfish, an egoist, and mean, but…)

(Roger’s existence has saved me a couple of times…)

(It’s frustrating but…it’s the absolute truth)

We woke up at the same time to the sound of footsteps from upstairs.

Roger: Mm… Hm? Whoa…Is it morning already?

Kate: Feels…like it?

Roger: I told you to wake me up, but you fell asleep too.

Kate: Sorry. This body tires out easily-

The moment I woke up I noticed some physical discomfort.

Roger: You…

(Huh…?)

Kate: I’m…back to normal? I’m back to normal! Hooray!

I’m so ecstatic that I hug Roger without thinking and I feel his muscular body against mine.

Roger: Did the drug run its course?  No, but a drug that shrinks a person can’t simply-

Kate: It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m back to normal.

Roger: Yeah, you’re right. I’ll figure it out later… At any rate, thank goodness for your good health.

Kate: What a relief. Thanks for being by my side.

Roger: No problem. But I think you’re a little too energetic with the naked cuddling?

Kate: Naked? Ah…

(I’m not wearing anything?!)

It’s only when he pointed it out that I realized I’m not wearing any clothes.

The doll clothes I wore lie abandoned on the floor.

Kate: I’m sorry. I’ll go put something-

Roger: Hey, hold on. What’re you gonna do about “this”?

Roger grabs my hand and brings it to his lower half.

Kate: Eh…Oh, um…Huh?

My cheeks heat up when I feel something firm against my hand.

Kate: Roger…is this…

Roger: When I’m feeling worn out, I just can’t help myself. Besides, it’s like your naked body’s inviting me.

Kate: It’s saying no such thing…

(I need to put something on quickly)

The moment I get up from the chair, Roger pins me down on the work table.

Kate: !

While hovering over me, his rough hand traces my neck.

Like a butterfly specimen, my arms are pinned and I can’t move.

Kate: Ah…Roger…you can’t…

Roger: Oh? Jeez, you should enjoy it, but you’re oddly serious. Then I won’t put it in. That won’t be a problem, right?

Kate: Not putting it in…That’s not the point…

His large hands cover my exposed breasts.

He starts groping my chest.

(Ah…don’t…)

The calluses rub against a sensitive area, sending a tingling sensation through my body.

It’s as if every part of my body’s craving the sweet stimulation. 

Roger: Kate. I haven’t even played with them yet and your nipples are already getting hard. 

Kate: …

Roger: Haha, that’s a nice heartbeat. My ears are picking up everything.

Kate: Don’t listen please!

Roger: Oh? You’re not asking me not to touch you?

Kate: Um…

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. You really are something… You weren’t so bad when you were tiny, but it’s better to talk at the same level.

Kate: …

(Why are you saying that with such a carefree smile?)

(A smile like that)

(...I can’t say no to it)

I wonder how much of this was calculated and how much was his trap.

No matter how much I think about it, I can’t figure it out.

But I can accept his approaching lips-

That I knew for sure.

#ikemen villains #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil #ikevil jp

[stephstars08]

Welcome to my Darkside

GF!Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Obsessed!Ethan, Adult Language, Jealous!Ethan, Murder, Blood, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Tension, Sexual References, Make Out Sessions, Implied Smut, and Maybe Some Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot any)

Summary: Ethan has a darkside and when the girl he’s obsessed with decided to go on a fake date with another guy Ethan can’t help but let his darkside come out. But, what Ethan doesn’t know is that Y/N has a darkside of her own.

Inspired Song: DARKSIDE by Neoni

Word Count: 1,956

Author’s Note: Here is another Ethan story for all of you Ethan Girls and it’s even more special since it’s Ethan as Ghostface which I’ve only written one other time! I hope you all enjoy!!

Ever since the first day that Ethan met Y/N he immediately became obsessed with her. Since Y/N is roommates with Mindy and Ethan is roommate with Mindy’s twin brother Chad they both hang out with the same group of friends. Well, Ethan doesn’t refer any of them as his friends since the only reason why Ethan is in New York is to get revenge on Sam for murdering his brother which was a year prior in Woodsboro.

Ethan isn’t doing this revenge plan on his own. His sister Quinn is roommates with Sam and her little sister Tara, and his father is a detective at the NYPD. However, no one knows that Ethan is related to them so to keep that a secret he changed his last name to Landry while his sister and father changed their last name to Bailey, so no one knows that they are related to Sam’s ex-boyfriend.

Ethan knew the number one rule his father gave him, and Quinn was to not get attached to anyone. Ethan was doing fine with that rule till he met Y/N. Quinn did notice that Ethan was growing feelings for Y/N, and she told him was to be careful because if their dad finds out about is little crush, Y/N will be first on the slaughter list.

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

It was Friday night and Ethan was at the groups regular Friday night hangout with Tara and Chad. The hangout place is a restaurant that is right down the road from the college campus that they all go to. Ethan was sitting at a table with Tara and Chad who were sitting right across from him when Y/N finally showed up. “Hey, sorry I’m late.” Y/N said as she slid into the booth Ethan was sitting in. “It’s okay, we just sat down about five minutes ago.” Ethan reassured her.

“Where is Mindy?” Y/N asked in a curious tone. “Apparently she has a date with that girl Anika.” Tara told her which made Y/N roll her eyes. “She never fucking tells us anything.” Y/N said in annoyance as she started to look at the menu. “Better get used to it since that’s just how my sister is.” Chad told her.

“Why were you running late?” Ethan asked Y/N changing the subject since he doesn’t give a fuck about what’s going on with Mindy. “I ran into Max right after I got out of my last class.” Y/N answered keeping the annoyance in her voice. Ethan felt his blood boil right when Y/N said Max’s name.

Max is a guy who Y/N shares two classes with, and he’s been trying for two months to get Y/N to go out with him. He follows her around like a puppy dog and it drives Ethan fucking crazy. Even though Y/N has turned Max down thousands of times, he can’t help but get extremely jealous when he sees them together. Ever since the day Ethan laid eyes on Y/N he declared that he will be the only one that’s allowed to have her. He’s the only one that can have a romantic relationship with her. She belongs to him and only him.

“That simp is still trying to get you to go out with him?” Chad said looking up from the menu in his hands to look over at Y/N. “It’s like right when I walk into any building on campus, he’s right there waiting for me.” Y/N explained with little hint of anger in her voice. “It’s so fucking annoying!” Y/N added.

“I have an idea on how you can get Max to stop asking you out and leave you alone.” Tara told her putting the menu down flat on the table. “What is it?” Y/N asked her in a curious tone. “You’re not going to like it.” Tara told her in warning tone. “Tara, I am willing to do anything to make this little shit leave me the fuck alone.” Y/N told her in a stern tone. “You’re going to have to agree to go on one date with him.” Tara told her which made Ethan’s heart rate speed up. “Wait, so to get Max to leave her the fuck alone she has to go out on a date with the desperate simp?” Chad asked Tara with confusion. “I wasn’t finished.” Tara said giving him a quick side glare and then looked back at Y/N. “Agree to go on one date with him and during the date make it the worst date he’s ever been on to make him not want a second date.” Tara explained the idea. “So, I need to act like a total bitch to make him not want to go on another date with me?” Y/N asked her. “Yeah, pretty much.” Tara told her with a nod. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan, so I’ll do it.” Y/N said which made Ethan’s heart drop to his feet.

He couldn’t believe that Y/N is going along with Tara’s plan. Yes, it’s going to be a fake date for Y/N, but Ethan’s jealousy couldn’t help but start to take over his body. Anything can happen during this so-called date. What if the date actually starts off good and it makes Y/N not want to do the plan anymore? What if Max charms her? Ethan knew that he has to talk her out of doing this plan. Ethan was too busy in his thoughts to notice that everyone was telling the waitress their order till Y/N said his name. “Oh, sorry!” Ethan said coming back to reality. Ethan told the waitress his order and then gave her the menu. “Okay, I’ll go put in your orders.” The waitress told them and walked away.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked Ethan with concern in her voice. “Yeah, just got a lot of Econ shit in my head.” Ethan answered her with a lie which did make her let out a giggle. “Don’t we all have college shit stuck in our heads.” Y/N told him. “It’s Friday. Those thoughts can wait till Monday.” Y/N told him putting her hand on top of his’s hand that was resting on the table. After Ethan gave her a nod she went back and to talking to Tara and Chad. She kept her hand on Ethan’s till their food came.

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

It was Monday morning and right when Ethan step onto the plaza of the college campus he saw Y/N talking to Max. He knew that Y/N just agreed to go on a date with Max by just the stupid ass grin on his stupid ass face. Jealousy quickly shot up Ethan’s body the same it did Friday night.

Max has been on Ethan’s death list for a while now. It took everything in Ethan to not go over there and kill that son of a bitch. It took everything in Ethan to not go over there and punch Max in the face and tell him that Y/N belongs to him. The only thing that made Ethan feel a little better was the fake smile Y/N was giving Max.

Right when Max walked away from her, she dropped the smile and Ethan quickly walked over to her. “You’re seriously going along with Tara’s stupid ass plan?” Ethan said to her trying his best to hide his jealousy. “I’m only going along with half of the plan.” Y/N told him which quickly confused Ethan. “What do you mean by only doing half of the plan?” Ethan asked her in confusion. “I’m going to welcome Max to my darkside.” Y/N told him as her lips curved up into a smirk.

Before Ethan could say anything else Y/N walked away from him.

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

That night Ethan was in the alley way next to Max’s apartment building in his Ghostface costume. He knows Y/N isn’t going to do what she’s planning till the date comes so Ethan is going to take Max out before the date. Plus, he doesn’t know what Y/N meant by showing Max her darkside. Ethan knows he’s playing with fire killing Max as Ghostface and if he gets caught it will ruin his families’s revenge plan, but he needs to make sure that this date never happens, and this is his only solution.

Ethan heard a car door close, so he perked out of the alley way and saw Max walk into the apartment building. Ethan knew it was go time so he started to make his way up the fire escape. When he got to the right fire escape, he quietly opened the window that was to Max’s bedroom. Before Ethan climbed through the window, he heard two-gun shots which made him jump. Ethan climbed through the window and quietly closed it.

Ethan made his way to Max’s living room to see Max laying in a pool of his own blood on the hard wood floor. Max had one gunshot wound to the chest and the other one right through the middle of his forehead. “What the fuck?” Ethan said with a mixture of confusion and shock in his voice. “Well, look what we have here.” Ethan heard a familiar voice say from behind him. When he turned around, he saw Y/N standing there holding a gun in her left hand.

“Really, Ethan? Ghostface? Are we in a fucking Stab movie?” Y/N asked him. Ethan took off his mask. “That’s a long story.” Ethan told her. “So, you have a darkside, too?” Y/N said looking him up and down. “Doesn’t everybody.” Ethan told her. “Agree to disagree.” Y/N told him. “I couldn’t wait till the date to show him my darkside.” Y/N said putting her gun away in the pocket that was inside her jacket.

“You know.” Y/N started as she walked closer to him. Ethan’s heart rate sped up at every step Y/N took towards him. “I never thought that Ghostface was sexy till now. Seeing you in this costume is really turning me on.” Y/N told him look up at him him with lust in her eyes. Y/N put her right hand flat on his chest and started rubbing it lightly which was quickly turning him on as well. Seeing this side of Y/N was making Ethan’s obsession grown more for her.

Before either one of them could start to lean in they heard police sirens. “Shit! They got called quicker than I thought!” Y/N hissed taking her hand off Ethan’s chest. “Come on!” Ethan said grabbing her hand. He led her into Max’s bedroom. “We can go down the fire escape.” Ethan told her letting go of hand to open the window. He let her climb through the window and then he followed her out onto the fire escape. After Ethan quietly shut the window, they carefully made their way down the fire escape.

When they got onto the ground it was Y/N’s turn to grab Ethan’s hand. Ethan let her drag him by the hand down the alley way to the back-alley way behind all of the buildings. They passed by five buildings to get to Y/N’s car that was parked in the back-alley way. Y/N let go of Ethan’s hand to get her car keys out of her pants pocket. After she unlocked her car Y/N got into the driver’s seat while Ethan got into the passenger seat.

Right after Ethan closed the car door Y/N grabbed him and smashed their lips together. It didn’t take long from the kiss to turn into a make out session. They continued to make out till they needed air.

“My place or yours?” Y/N asked him once she caught her breath. “Mine.” Ethan answered. Y/N started up her car. She backed out of the alley way and sped down the street.

#ethan landry #ethan kirsch #ethan landry x reader #Ethan Landry angst #Ethan Landry fluff #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x female reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #gh!ethan Landry x reader #gf!ethan Landry #gf!ethan #ghostface #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry oneshot #scream x reader #scream x you #scream x yn #ghostface x reader #ghostface x you #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x female reader #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x you #jack champion imagine #jack champion oneshot #scream vi #scream 6

[trashmoutth]

When I see you again (Fred Weasley x Reader)

PARTS 1. 2. female!reader, Gryffindor!reader Summary: It takes place during the Second Wizarding War, months after Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Reader is on the run after her family has been caught by the Snatchers. Loosely following cannon. Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader (mentioned) Characters: Dean Thomas, Fred Weasley (mentioned),George Weasley (mentioned), Ted Tonks (mentioned), Dirk Cresswell (mentioned) Warnings: war, mentions of death, angst, swearing, english is not my first language so there might be grammatical mistakes, capital letters, etc.

—

During the next couple of days there was a strange feeling of excitement in the air. For the first time in a while, you felt like there was something to hope for, like you had a goal. The sudden burst of adrenaline in your veins had you wandering around this old house of yours all day and all night. It was driving Dean crazy, but you didn’t care. He showed you how to replay old PotterWatch recordings, so you had them playing in the background through the day while searching through your grandma’s old books in hopes of finding something helpful.

Dean was being as supportive as he could’ve been, considering he was also aching to get in touch with his parents and sisters, however, he was reluctant to get his hopes up. You didn’t have the same problem. It wasn’t a choice for you.

“I’d tell her that her family is alive and well and desperate for news of her whereabouts. As are quite frankly, all of us here at the PotterWatch”.

When you weren’t replaying the recording, you were replaying those words in your head.

You had to find a way.

There was another resident in the house who didn’t seem to be too keen on contacting the wizarding world. A goblin named Ricbert. He was badly injured and spent most of the time resting. You couldn’t blame him for not wanting to risk exposure, not after Dean has told you everything they had to go through to get to a safe house. They were travelling with Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell and another goblin named Gornuk. They crossed miles and miles being actively hunted by the Snatchers and Death Eaters. Gornuk has split himself while apparating in a hurry and got captured. Dirk went after him while urging the others to run away, but Ted Tonks would not leave anyone behind. Unfortunately, that resulted in Dean and Ricbert having to fend for themselves.

Listening to that story made you shiver. But if anything, it made you even more determined to stop running and hiding. It wasn’t even just about seeing your family and friends again. It wasn’t just about Fred either. People were fighting for their lives! You couldn’t stay put! You had to do something!

When you weren’t practicing defensive spells, you spent your time obsessively collecting herbs and brewing healing remedies for Ricbert. It made you feel a bit better, being useful to someone. You were trying out all kinds of recipes you thought might come in handy.

You made a batch of Polyjuice Potion, Cure for boils, Antidote to Common Poisons, Antidote to Uncommon Poisons. You even tried to make Felix Felicis, but the ingredients for it were way too hard to find even in regular circumstances.

You were brewing so much that Dean eventually had to take you by the hand and force you to sit down and take a break.

“If Snape could see me now!”, you said with a tired smile.

Dean chuckled.

“He’d probably put you in detention for working too hard”.

“Ah, yes! Did you know he actually did do that to me once?”

“What, really?”

“Yeah… I wrote an essay in my third year that was accidentally a little too good. He accused me of using a magical quill and put me in detention”, you rolled your eyes.

“Blimey, what a git!”

“Well, I’ll tell you what, I’ve never tried to work too hard on my homework again!”, you laughed.

It was nice talking to Dean, the two of you became fast friends during your stay in the house. You gave each other space through the day, but in the evenings, you would sit down and enjoy each other’s company. Just like you were back in the Gryffindor common room, chatting about muggle films and sports. You found your grandparents’ stash of Firewhiskey and Nettlewine, so you’d light the fireplace and open a bottle. Ricbert also joined you on occasion.

You tried not to talk too much about PotterWatch, even though that was all you wanted to talk about, and tried avoiding mentioning Fred and George’s name completely. At least until you’ve figured out the way to find them. On the first night, you and Dean went through all the options of how to get in touch with someone from your world. Floo powder was out of question. So was sending and owl, obviously. Most importantly, even if you did find a way to send anyone a message, you wouldn’t know where to send it. Apparating to any location was an unnecessary risk, especially now that you seemed to be perfectly safe and sound for the first time in months. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t want to put Ricbert in danger just because, as he so delicately put one evening,

“You heard your boyfriend mention your name on a radio two weeks ago”.

The word “boyfriend” stupidly made your heart flutter. It wasn’t, strictly speaking, true, but you didn’t correct him. Dean didn’t question it either at the time. However, that evening, after a few glasses of Nettlewine, his curiosity got the best of him.

“So…”, he started, “You and Weasley, eh?”

“Huh?”

“You and Fred Weasley? You’re like… an item, right?”

“What makes you say that?”, you feigned surprise.

He raised his eyebrows and smirked at you.

“Oh, please!”

“No! We are just friends”, you tried to protest, but a small smile escaped your lips and betrayed you.

“Sure you are!”, Dean chuckled, “I also fall asleep every night while listening to recordings of my friend’s voices on the radio”.

“Well maybe you should, it’s very calming”, you teased.

“Besides”, you continued, “How do you know it’s not Georgie I’m listening for?”

“Oh”, he laughed, “You’re right, my apologies”.

“Why do you think they call him Tentacula?”.

He snorted and threw a pillow at you.

“Don’t put images in my head!”

“Well, you’re the one who started this conversation!”, you threw the pillow back at him.

He groaned.

“I was just being nosy, I didn’t want the details!”

“Curiosity killed the hippogriff!”

“Also…”, Dean continued, “Ginny mentioned something to me back when we were dating…”

Your heart jumped in your chest.

“About what?”, you asked as calmly as possible.

“You know… about you and Weasley… Fred, I mean”.

“What did she say?”

Dean looked at you sternly as if what he was about to say is very serious indeed, but then his face stretched into a wide grin, and he burst out laughing.

“Nothing! I just wanted to see your reaction!”

You groaned.

“Oi, Thomas, that was really low!”

“Sorry, better work on your poker face Y/LN!”, he teased you.

You rolled your eyes.

“Well, it’s not like it matters anyway. I mean… who knows if I’ll ever see him again”, your voice suddenly turned sad.

Dean’s expression softened.

“You’ll see him”, he said.

You looked at him with teary eyes and gently smiled with gratitude.

“You think so?”, you asked quietly, before you could stop yourself.

“Yes”, he replied, “We’ll find a way. But then you have to do it”.

“Do what?”

“Shoot your shot”, he said and threw a pillow at you again.

...

You’ve spent the next couple of days trying to figure out how to bring up your newest plan of sending a message to Fred and George. It seemed like a good plan; the only problem was the fact that you had no idea how to execute it.

“Dean…”, you started one afternoon.

“Yes?”, he asked.

“I’ve figured it out”, you said slowly.

“You have?”, he jumped in excitement.

“Yes… sort of”.

“What does that mean?”

“Well…”, you started, “There might be a way to send someone a message without having to know exactly where they are, I think… but it requires a really powerful witch or wizard to do so”.

“I’m not worried about that part!”, he winked at you.

You laughed bitterly.

“I don’t know, mate. I’ve never been able to do it before… that’s why I didn’t bring it up until now”.

“What is it?”, his voice suddenly got a bit more serious.

You took a deep breath.

“The thing is… you can send someone a message using the Patronus charm”.

“You can?”, he asked in a surprise.

“Yes”, you replied, “I’ve seen it”.

The image of a silver, gleaming lynx with a voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt suddenly entered your mind.

“Well, that’s… good news, right?”, Dean asked.

You sighed.

“Yes… and no”.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… I’ve never been able to produce a corporal Patronus before… and even if I did it, I have no idea how to get it to send someone a message!”, you said, with slight frustration in your voice.

“Oh…”, Dean said.

“Can you produce it?”

He shook his head.

“No… never been able to”.

“Well… that’s why I didn’t say anything until now… but it seems like it might be the only option we have left”.

He looked at you in disbelief.

“What kind of option is that? We’d have to become able to produce a corporal Patronus, and then we’d also have to somehow figure out a way to make it reach someone else for us… it would take us weeks, months, maybe even years!”

“You have somewhere to be?”, you asked sarcastically.

He sighed.

“No…”

“Well, then… unless you can come up with a better plan, I suggest you roll up your sleeves and start practicing the charm!”, you said in a tone of voice that reminded you a bit of Professor McGonagall.

A similar thought has clearly crossed Dean’s mind, because he smirked at you and said,

“Yes, professor!”

You softened your expression and smiled at him.

The following couple of days were spent by your useless attempts to preform the Patronus charm. When you weren’t whispering, mumbling, or screaming:

“Expecto Patronum!”

you were cooped up in your room, reading your grandmas old books, trying to find anything at all about the Patronus charm. It was hopeless.

To be fair, you managed to produce a glowing, silver shield that danced around the room, but there was no sign of fur, tail, claws, hooves, or anything like that. It was driving you mad, which, obviously, wasn’t helpful while trying to focus on your happiest memories.

One evening, as you were lying in your bed and rewinding old recordings of PotterWatch, a shocking realisation suddenly hit you.

Of course you would not be able to create a Patronus, you didn’t have a memory that was strong enough! All your happiest thoughts were somehow tainted by the fact that you were here, locked inside a safe house, completely isolated from the people that you loved the most. But if you could do it… If you could be strong enough to perform the spell…

You didn’t have a happiest memory because all of them were set in the future! And you held the power to make them into reality!

It was a paradoxical thought, but the realisation made your heart fill up with hope, and perhaps, that could be enough to summon a Patronus!

You jumped out of the bed, in a sudden rush of adrenaline, and raised your wand.

You closed your eyes.

What would make you happy? What is the happiest thing you can think of at this very moment?

An image of your parents glimmered in your mind. They were smiling at you while embracing you into a tight hug.

Then another image appeared. Your friends! George Weasley gifting you one of his infectious smiles and congratulating you on a spell well-done! Lee Jordan, shaking your hand and kissing your cheeks.

A small grin appeared on your lips.

It was working!

Then, you saw his face. Fred.

His flaming red locks and glistening eyes. He reached his hands towards you and pulled you in his arms. You knew his scent all too well. He smelled of cinnamon and fireworks. He didn’t say anything to you, and you didn’t say anything to him. You just stood there, embracing. No words were needed.

You felt your heart swell up as happy tears started to fill your eyes. You took a deep breath.

You were almost there!

You raised your wand higher and pictured yourself as exactly the person you wanted to be in this very moment. You were strong enough to summon a Patronus. You were clever enough to reach your friends. You were brave enough to protect Ricbert and Dean. You could do it! You just had to believe in it!

“Excpecto Patronum”, you whispered.

A beam of silver light shot out of your wand. It seemed to be forming into a shape.

Was that a claw? Or maybe antlers?

The beautiful silver light blazing from your wand gave you more confidence, so you repeated, this time more loudly and more clearly,

“Excpecto Patronum!”

This time the light started to form into a shape a lot more distinctively. You watched in an awe as you tried to figure out what animal in reminded you of, still focusing hard on your happy thoughts.

The silver light fell apart once again, but you didn’t get discouraged. You were certain this time you’d do it. You took a deep breath and pictured Fred’s smiling face. His eyes. His voice. His laughter… You’ll see him again! You will! You were so close…

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”, you yelled out.

The light shooting out of your wand was almost blinding this time. You squinted as you watched it prance around the room, forming into a shape of a beautiful, silvery creature. After it made a circle around the room it stopped right in front of you, looking at you with its intelligent, glowing eyes. You gasped in awe and reached for it to touch it. You recognized it instantly.

It was a (your Patronus).

You did it!

The realisation made a surge of euphoric sensation shoot through your body.

You fucking did it!

You started laughing. You wanted to call for Dean, but you were worried the animal would disappear if you did that. So, instead, you just stood there, trying to get your brain to start working again. As soon as it did, another thought has crossed your mind.

What now?

That’s right! Summoning a Patronus was only a part of the problem. As happy as you were to have succeeded, you still didn’t know how to fulfil the other part.

What if I just… ask?

it was a silly thought. And yet…

It couldn’t hurt!

You struggled for a moment to find your voice. Your Patronus was still looking at you. It seemed like it already knew what you were about to do.

“Can you… help me?”, you heard yourself say stupidly.

The Patronus blinked.

“I need to send a message… to Fred Weasley. He’s… my best friend. Perhaps you already know that…?”

The animal didn’t move or react in any way that would make it seem like it understood you. You groaned in frustration.

“Well, it was worth a shot”, you mumbled.

The frustration in your voice made the Patronus start to slowly fade out. It made you panic for a moment, but then you let it go.

If you could summon it once, you can do it again!

However, the Patronus didn’t disappear, you realized a second later. Instead, it turned itself into a tiny, floating ball of light that began slowly approaching you. Just when you thought it was about to stop, it went straight inside your neck and nested itself at the bottom of your throat.

“What the…”, you spoke in a surprise.

And then you froze in shock. You could hear your own voice, just like it was magically enhanced by Sonorous. However, you had a strange feeling that if anyone else was around you, they would only see you open your mouth and silently move it like a fish.

“Did I… do it?”, you asked.

You were still hearing your own voice inside your head. That must be it! It must be working!

“Fred…”, you started, “If you can hear me… if this reaches you somehow… I’m safe. I’m in a safe location. I can’t tell you exactly where it is, it’s heavily protected…”.

You thought for a moment about what you should and shouldn’t say. You didn’t want to compromise anyone’s safety if this message was heard by someone else.

“If you can reach my parents, would you tell them I’m okay?”, you asked.

There were so many things that you dreamt about saying to him if you got the chance, and now… it felt like there was nothing on your mind.

“Oh, I’m with Dean Thomas!”, you remembered suddenly, “He’s safe too… we’re with a goblin named Ricbert… Fred…”.

You took a deep breath.

“If you can… try to find me… please”.

Just when you started thinking about how silly that sounded, the ball of light nested in your throat flew out. It reached the middle of the room and slowly transformed back into its corporal form. The beautiful, shimmering animal stood before you once again, only this time there was a little ball of light flickering in its neck. You realised, in amazement, that that was your voice.

“Find Fred Weasley… please”, you said pleadingly.

The Patronus blinked at you once again, like it perfectly understood the assignment you just gave it, and slowly began to fade out.

For a second or two you did not move. You were still a bit unsure that what you just saw really happened. You wanted to call Dean and tell him all about it, but before you could do that, you felt yourself slowly sinking into bed. You were exhausted.

You didn’t know for sure how long you slept. Was it five hours or five minutes. You only knew that in one moment your eyes were shut and you were sleeping, and in another something in the room has made you groan out in frustration.

Did somebody turn on the light?

“Turn… it… off…”, you mumbled as you tried to cover your closed eyes with a pillow.

But it felt like the light was burning through the pillowcase. You threw the pillow away and sat up straight, like someone had just pinched you.

Your eyes widened in shock. Something was in the room with you. Through the haze of sleepiness, it looked like another glowing ball of light, only this ball was a lot larger than the one you had summoned. It made a few circles around the room before it finally settled and landed at the top of the pillow you just threw away. It was a bird. A magpie. A glowing, silvery magpie! It was spreading its shimmering wings and looking at you like it wanted your undivided attention.

Another Patronus, you realised.

Your mouth had gone dry from suspense. Then, the bird opened its silver beak and spoke in the voice of Fred Weasley,

“Y/N? Is that really you?”

Your heart stopped.

—

#hp #hp imagine #hp fic #hp x reader #hp x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #dean thomas #dean thomas x reader #dean thomas x y/n #ted tonks #gryffindor #gryffindor!reader

[madwomansapologist]

Autumn Thunderstorm | Chapter 8 - A nightingale sang

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series synopsis: Thranduil thought the recent attack of spiders on a periphery village was the only thing deserving of his attencion. If he could've imagined what he would found there, who he would found there, the Elvenking would wait a millenia in front of that river so he could see her sooner. Or: how Gandalf managed to keep a secret for 14 months.

eigth chapter synopsis: A surprising invitation made you discover a different, incredible place hidden in Greenwood. You were glad that Thranduil showed you such a special place. But probably you were even more glad that he was there with you. [3K]

warnings: female!reader. pre-Smaug. cried writing this but this is apparently something that will happens with every chapter so... go hear a nightingale sang in berkeley square. look i am just a sensitive girl in a difficult world, this is straight up murdering you with love.

glossary: Idril: Treasure, sweetheart┆Ellon: Male elf┆

Forests are secrets in themselves. They hide things. That is what they do, their primordial essense. A forest without a secret is a human without a soul, a planet without a star, a mother without her child. That is the real language of the woods.

You knew all the meadow’s secrets in Rivendell. You knew where the sprouts flourished, where the clearing started, where the trees fall after storms. You knew all its secrets, until you did not.

Because in kind places a forest hides wisteria and sage sprouts. In cruel ones it hides wargs and warm blood. And for those who are lucky enough it hides suspended gardens.

Stone pillars, embedded on gold, supported all seven floors. It would already be a beautiful sight, light reflecting in waves of warmth through Greenwood, but the ascending series of tiered gardens above each floor turned it into a paradise. Each specimen from the wide variet of trees, flowers and vines were part of this mountain constructed of golden bricks.

“I got goosebumps,” you whispered. Even the air was different there. It smelled like honey and daisies. If Thranduil told you that daylight comes from that place, you would have believed him. “Why did you hide this place from me!?”

Strangers had been born and buried and their lifetime would be nothing compared to all the time the Elvenking spend on the suspended gardens. And still, looking into your moist eyes, Thranduil discovered a new sort of beauty in this place.

The green of the vines, more verdant. The gold of the pillars, more golden. The pink of the flowers, more rosy. The whole world was brighter. Wind whispering against the autumn leaves, birds flocking, river crashing against stones: the world became a song. Such a beautiful, intricate symphony. One that he never noticed before.

It must be fate. That was meant to be. Since the world was first created and the stars were put into place. For what other reason did he survived this far, if not to admire you admiring the world his ancestors build? For what reason did Thranduil endure this far, if not to be alone in this world with you?

Your eyes glowed, and Thranduil wondered if Varda put her light into them. Into you.

The Elvenking gestured towards the gardens. “Shall we, idril?”

Thranduil watched as you prepared a raspberry pie in silence, which was better than when he tried to make you let someone else finish it. As if it was offensive for you to get your hands dirty. Your last job was to take care of horses. What is a pie compared to that?

Cleaning your hands, you almost could not believe your ears when the invitation came. It was strange of him to have free time during the day. He never had before, not once since you first got in his realm. But you were not the one to remind a king of his duties.

Not when that can take him away from you.

So this time, when Thranduil suggest you to let someone else bake it, you accept it.

“You really should stop doing that,” you continued along the paved way, and Thranduil followed your eager steps. Turning to look at him instead of facing the path, a delicate smile showed you did not meant what you were saying. “Calling me words I do not know.”

“Yet,” Thranduil completed. “Do not know yet.”

On the first floor, you understood that the construction did not matter. Its halls were simple, with long open arches and practically empty except for the occasional sculptures. Anyone there would only have eyes for the gardens, and whoever built it knew that no amount of gold or jewels would ever compete with nature.

Quince flowers draped over the walls, pears were almost to the point of crop. Thranduil showed you almond flowers, his long fingers brushing against the tiny buds. You did not even knew almonds came from flowers.

Climbing the stairs to the second floor, you brushed your hands against the rough trunk of a pistachio tree. “Do you fear birds?” Thranduil looked concerned.

“Definitely no.”

Following throught the halls, you could see the garden suspended over the first floor. Butterflies and bees flew around the almond flowers, which made you speed up the pace. You heard Thranduil laughing, and he only did not heard you complaining because you were too scared that maybe a bee would enter your mouth.

A swallow landed on your hair, and you tried your best to not move so Thranduil would see it too. When he stopped in front of you, Thranduil’s eyes seemed so… calm.

You knew he was tired and worried. That he had much to do, to understand, to protect. In Rivendell people believe that Sauron is gone, but here they have more than faith to prove the contrary. But now Thranduil look so peaceful.

As if nothing bad had ever happened to him.

“A little one mistook you by a tree,” Thranduil stretched a finger towards your hair. You felt the swallow moving, pulling your hair along, and saw it on his ring finger. Such a small thing, with greenish down.

Your smile went wider when you looked into his face.

“And you by a flower.” In his wood crown, butterflies found a new home. “If you pay attention, you really look like a sunflower kind of person,” you used your hands to cover your laugh. “Always smiling, never yelling at anyone.”

Thranduil’s response was to roll his eyes.

On the third floor, you passed through ebony, cedar and rosewood. You told Thranduil how most of the trees surrounding Aerin’s inn are ash trees, and how sad it is that most of the stories you read use them as metaphor for dead things. Thranduil shared a poem about a willow tree.

It surprised you how he recited it from memory.

Junipers were new for you. Never before you heard about them. But myrrh was not. You told Thranduil that Luthien gave you a bottle of its oil and practically ordered you to use it on your shoulder. His peacefulness oscilated for a second, but it appeared again.

The floor with fruits were your favorite one. Thranduil split open a pomegranate, revealing clusters of seeds inside it. You both shared it, eating slowly while watching the sun reflecting upon Greenwood. You took a tangerine from its branch, and gave him half of it. With half of a fresh fig on your hands, you were more interest on plum flowers than on its fruit.

There is something about sharing a fruit with someone that just makes it feel holy. The way Thranduil cut the fig in half. How you cleaned the tangerine. Your fingers brushing against one another to take another seed. It just felt better than eating one alone.

You brushed your fingers against ferns and orchids. Cherry blossoms floated, washing you both upon pink petals. A few got stucked on your hair. A few that Thranduil did not warned you about.

On the last floor, there were tables and chairs made of wood, but what really mattered to you was the view. From up there, you could see everything. Greenwood, every floor and its suspended garden, a flowing river on distance. Once again, goosebumps explored your body.

“A step back,” said Thranduil when he saw you too close from the edge. It may have been a warning, it may have been an order, but you took one either. He sat, observing carefully. “Your fall is not worth the landscape.”

“Do not be affraid. That will not happen,” your eyes locked on a bird flying away. You think it was a nightingale. He was so small, and yet he knew a type of freedom you would never. How must it be to fly? It happened for you to fall from places that made you feel like you were flying, until you met the ground. Does it works the other way around? You imagine so. “You do not need to worry about me.”

“How could I not?” replied Thranduil. “You reign in my mind. It is my duty to worry about your safety and happiness.”

Your mouth went dry. “It was never my intention to make you worry about my safety or my happiness,” your voice was barely a whisper. “Or about me, at all.”

Words, when commonly used, tend to lose their initial meaning. It dissolves, disappears with each repetition, until the word is just a ghost of what it once was. Of what their meaning once was. So many man use love almost as a greeting, but not a ellon. Never a ellon.

Love for a elve is more than just a word. It is not something that happens several times. It happens once in a lifetime, and it last forever and evermore. Only one person can own a elve’s heart, just their half, and they will never trust it to someone else.

Thranduil never thought of himself as someone lucky, but now he knows he is. In such a dangerous world, Thranduil found you. His friend, his confidant, his love. His one and only. Your heart belong with his. Thranduil can wait however long it takes for you to believe in that too.

“I never said it was.”

The silence pierced your mind. His words… Why Thranduil keep on doing this? Why he keep on saying those sweet, toothaching sweet things? Thranduil is so beautiful, and everytime he opens his mouth you get more sure that his heart is just as pretty. If you could open his skull and study his brain, you would.

“Still,” you licked your lips. “I am not falling.”

Thranduil nodded. You came back to watch the sky, mostly because you did not knew what else to do. It was rosy. A breeze made chills go down your spine, and a petal fell from your hair right into your hands. Your caressed it, and moved it closer to your nose.

“Who created this place?” You sniffed it. “They must be so proud.”

Lost on you, Thranduil did not saw a reason to lie. “It was my father.”

That warm feeling spreading into you faded away. He never talked to you about his father before, but you knew that there was only one way for a prince to become a king. What you do not know is how much does it hurt. It must be a lot. Usually things that we love hurt way too much.

Without a ounce of shame, you walked towards Thranduil. The way he made your thoughts hazy did not matter anymore. You pulled yourself a chair, and dragged it until it was right beside him. Thranduil chuckled at the act.

“He must have been really creative,” you told him. “How was he?”

That surprised Thranduil. People never ask things about his father. They only say that they are sorry, that they feel so much, that it must be so difficult. They never talk about Oropher. They always remind Thranduil that he is dead, but they never talk about him.

“Wise,” said Thranduil. With just one word, he already felt that it was so easier to breath. Sometimes it feels like Oropher only lives on his memory. Like there is this unsurmountable weight on his shoulders, one that none can see or help to carry. It felt nice to share. “And ruthless. He was the strongest until the very end.”

You tried to picture Oropher. The king who died too soon. The warrior that led his people against Sauron, and saw his knights falling down. You picture someone that knew the weight of a sword dipped in blood, the sound of a last breath, the rotteness of a dying land. You pictured this person, and then imagined him daydreaming about suspended gardens. Architecting a palace, designing irrigation, choosing seeds.

Oropher sounds like someone that was worth knowing.

Your fingers dipped into your watery dress, and you bit back a smile. You imagine that Thranduil have the same effect on people. That they will heard how he protect his land and his people, and then get amazed about how he can recite poems about a willow tree. At least he has that effect on you.

“And how was him to you? Was he good?”

“Not ruthless,” Thranduil smiled at the memories in hindsight. You could not help but to do the same. “He was gentle and… When I was just a little ellon, I used to not understand when it was time to shut up. Now I see how awful I was, but he always listened to me. He never made me feel like I should remain silent.”

You held his hand, it was so cold. Stroking his delicate skin, you felt a warmth inside you. Something different from anything you ever felt. You felt… not alone.

“I bet Oropher would be proud of you,” the words escaped your mouth. “I know I am. You are good. You are also great, but you are good.”

Somehow, Thranduil understood exactly what you meant. There are so many great people in this world. So many great poets, great warriors, great rulers. But good… Oh, it appears that the world is always lacking people that are good.

People who will discuss with dragons because their friends deserve their home back. People that will cross a continent to destroy a ring simply because someone needs to. People that will lit beacons without permission, that will use helmets to hide the fact that they are a woman, that will fight even as arrows pierce their chest.

“You think I am good?” Thranduil felt his eyes burning. “You really do?”

“Of course, my king.” You intertwined his fingers with yours. It felt right. Like they were made to complement eachother. A sly smirk replaced your genuine smile. “You think I would put up with you if I did not?

Thranduil looked at the horizon, hoping you would not notice the redness of his eyes. He reciprocated your touch, squeezing your hand lightly. Maybe it was the sunset, maybe it was the autumn leaves, but everything felt golden.

Everything felt just fine.

“You are good,” murmured Thranduil. “Is it because of your parents?”

You let go of his hand, and Thranduil felt the sky getting darker. Your colors also faded, as if it was robbed from your skin. “It is getting late,” you told him. You were quick to get up. Quick to lie. Badly. “I should come back.”

“I am sorry. I really am,” Thranduil ignored everything you said. There was no need for him to pretend to fall for your bad lies. He stand, just as fast as you. “But you are not a good liar, idril. I will not force you to say the truth, nor do I wish for you to speak when you do not want to, but you do not need to lie. Not to me. We are friends. You do not need to perform around me.”

You threw yourself onto the chair, without any energy to argue. You watched the horizon, the changing colors of the sky, and tried to ignore the pressure on your chest. “I am sorry.”

“No need to,” Thranduil sat too. He tried to be silent, but something told him that maybe you also had a unsurmountable weight on your shoulders. That maybe you also needed to share it. “Were they not good?”

“Maybe yes, maybe not,” you huffled. You responded right away, so Thranduil assumd he made the right decision. “That is the problem.”

With your eyelids closed, you turned your head to Thranduil. When courage made its way into your chest, you looked at him. Was he going to judge you? To see you as too much of a problem? A part of you feared that he would. The other half thought it was mean to think of him that way.

“I have no memories of them.”

He let you talk. About how you have no memories of parents, of any family, of growing or sharing meals or going to school or learning to read. About how for you it is like you were born during a thunderstorm, then wandered until you found Aerin. You told him everything.

After you rant, his silence came. He breathe in, and you could feel his body getting tense. “No one ever looked for you?” Thranduil finally said something.

You denied. “Do you think I am crazy?”

“I think…”

For Thranduil, now everything makes sense. The way you tend to pretend not to see when Aerin treated you badly. Or how people insisted on not calling you by your name. Why you would have felt bad if you did nothing. The gentleness of your heart. How your intelligence have a touch of naivety.

But it also made him even more intrigued about why you and Gandalf are friends. Does he have any interest on your memories coming back? Is he the reason why they faded? Can you really see him as a friend?

Thranduil never liked those pilgrim wizards, and Gandalf tend to be the one creating more problems for him. If he is right about who betrayed the free people, then maybe you have something to do with it.

He is glad you are away from him. Thranduil does not trust him.

Thranduil licked his lips. “I think you are so unlucky.”

That made you burst into laugh. For a whole minute. You belly hurt, your cheeks burned, your head spin. It was loud and ugly and true. “I… I agree.”

When silence came, it was natural. It was welcomed. You stared into his watery eyes, and decided that you would never try to hide things from Thranduil. It is just not worth the effort, now when he reacts this way. Not when he is so sweet.

“You still want to go back home?” Thranduil whispered. There was simply no need to, but he wanted to. It felt right to.

You inhale. “Not really,” you admitted. You turned your gaze to the sky, and it was on that marvelous moment when it is not day and it is not night. Thranduil did the same as you. “This place feels like a summer dream.”

A nightingale sang that night. Not that you both heard it, since your voices were louder. But it sang, and it still mattered.

AUTUMN THUNDERSTORM: @ferns-fics @notanalienindisguiseblink @rayrlupin @elvyshiarieko @graniairish @whore-of-many-hot-men @h0ly-fire

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[agaypanic]

Benny dating human!reader and constantly getting jealous or protective over her because her blood type attracts all his vampire friends towards her and they get especially touchy/too close to her + make jokes ab biting her (all in good nature of course) Benny is constantly keeping an eye on his friends no matter how much he loves them LMAOO

Benny Weir With an H-Deficient Blood Type Girlfriend Headcanons

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Benny was already pretty protective of you

You were a human surrounded by vampires and other people with supernatural abilities

He’s always worried about you getting mixed up with the supernatural world

But when you found out your blood type was highly desirable to vampires, he became even more concerned for your well being

“Benny, it’s for a good cause.” You said as you dragged him into the line for the school’s annual blood drive. “Plus, we get to miss class. Everybody wins.”

“I get that; I just hate needles.” Your boyfriend shuddered at the thought alone. “Listen, how about you be the blood donor, and I’ll be emotional support.”

“Bens, even if I’m the one getting poked, you’ll probably be the one needing support.”

“True.” Benny sighed, kissing the top of your head and then hiding his face in your hair when he saw someone get poked with a needle. “But I’ll try my best.”

Benny did indeed do his best. He held your hand in support while the nurse looked for a vein, promising to get you a treat for your bravery, even though you didn’t need it. And then he high-fived you when the nurse told you your blood type, which was apparently one in a million.

“I guess my girlfriend’s just cooler than all of you,” Benny smirked at your friends at lunch. “I mean, we already knew that. But it’s nice to hear it be confirmed.”

“What did she say your blood type was again?” Sarah asked you.

“H-deficient.” You answered, taking a bite of your lunch. “Apparently, only one in a million have it.”

“Y/n…” Sarah looked at you worried, like she had something to say that she knew you wouldn’t like.

“Yeah?”

“That’s, like, the best blood type to have.” Erica grinned, licking her lips. You raised a brow at her. “It’s so good that one pint is better than a truckload of any other blood type.” Benny grabbed you, sliding you down the table bench and into his side.

“Erica, stop looking at her like that.” He said forcefully. She was about to respond when Ethan came running to the table, fear evident on his face. He slammed his hands on the table, making everyone jump while he caught his breath.

“Guys! I was getting my blood taken at the blood drive, and I had a vision.”

“Oh gosh, what is it this time?” You sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

“The blood drive nurses are vampires, and they’re taking all the blood for themselves,” Ethan whispered, not wanting anyone passing by to hear. You nearly choked at the new information, and Benny brought you even closer to him.

“Well, that’s not good.”

Safe to say that after learning about how desirable your blood is, Benny keeps an eye on his vampire friends

Especially Erica

Even when you all know they’re joking and that they’d never hurt you, he’s still a bit weary

It took a lot of effort, but you, Sarah, and Erica were able to convince the boys to come with you to see the new Dusk movie. Since you rarely go out, too busy trying to fight monsters and all, you decided to dress up. So what if you were going all out just to sit in a dark room for two hours? It was still fun.

The gang was waiting outside the theater when you and Benny showed up. They had already bought everyone’s tickets, so you all went inside to get popcorn. You hoped that the workers didn’t care enough to wonder why your bag looked like it was stuffed. There was no way you were paying movie theater prices for a small box of candy.

“Damn, Y/n. You’re looking good.” Erica smirked down at you, taking in your outfit. “I could just eat you up.” 

You and Benny had different reactions to that. You giggled, thanking Erica for the compliment. Meanwhile, Benny pulled you to him by the hip, glaring at Erica.

“Don’t even think about it, Jones.”

“Relax, Benny. She didn’t mean it like that.” You said, rubbing his back. But that didn’t stop Benny from moving to stand between the two of you. And it didn’t stop him from making sure you weren’t sitting next to Erica during the movie.

Gets jealous when your vampire friends get touchy

Half because being jealous of people being affectionate with your girlfriend is inevitable

Half because he’s scared a vampire being affectionate with you could lead to them sucking all the blood out of you

Panics when you get hurt, for two different but similar reasons

The library was utterly silent, surprising since you and the gang were there. But you made the boys swear to be quiet because you needed Sarah’s help studying for an upcoming quiz.

“Shit.” You hissed, holding your pointer finger. You had turned a page a bit too fast and gave yourself a paper cut. Sarah, Erica, and Rory visibly stiffened, slowly turning their heads to stare at you and your wound. You gulped as you watched their eyes slowly turn yellow. “Guys?” Rory took a deep breath before covering his nose.

“Y/n, come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Benny urged you to get out of your chair and to a bathroom. While he pulled you out of the library, you saw Ethan try to take the vampires’ attention off of you. “Are you okay?” Your boyfriend asked while he washed the tiny bit of blood off of your finger.

“Yeah. Guess I just gotta be more careful.” You scratched the back of your neck. Even though you knew you shouldn’t be, you felt a little embarrassed that such a small thing like a paper cut would cause such a reaction in your friends. 

“N/n, it’s not your fault you have blood that’s delicious to vampires. Ethan has the same blood type as you; he has to be just as careful.”

“Ethan doesn’t get a paper cut just from turning a page.” Benny dried you off with a paper towel before taking both your hands in his.

“That’s why I’m around to keep an eye out. I love our friends, but I love you and making sure you stay human more.” In response to his confession, you wrapped your arms around him, and Benny kissed your head. “Besides, Ethan’s way more of a klutz.”

#benny weir #benny weir x reader #benny weir headcanons #my babysitter's a vampire x reader #my babysitter's a vampire #agaypanic