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bananabeebenson · 1 year

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I Can ALSO Fix Him

tSim

I would like to state a very needed disclaimer at this point; I do not tend to learn my lesson. My dating history would prove that, therefore I have returned to haunt the tumblr feed of whoever may see this with my ever growing familiar statement; I can fix him.

Or, in this case, I can ALSO fix him.

Now, I have stated my plans to fix another criminal in the past, as stated here. How successful those ideas still stand to be tested, but I am here once again to bring to light that there is someone else on the list of ‘not-so-good-people’ I am willing to fix.

Crocodile. Sir Crocodile.

And I’m here to say, I can ALSO fix him.

Similar to that of Doflamingo, Crocodile is not a very good man. A smart man, oh sure. A brilliant man even for the plans he put in motion. An unlucky man as well, for his timing, and also a lucky man as well, for his timing yet again. But he is not someone who would eagerly take me on a date at the first bouquet of flowers dropped on his very expensive shoes. No, he is somehting of class; something that would take a little bit of convincing to fix him.

Attempt 1: A Vacation

Okay, it sounds simple enough, maybe even too simple to most, but everyone has to know this man has never had a vacation in his life. For as much as we know, he has been fighting to survive since day one and never once had he had an actual break. Every day spent in Alabasta was a day dedicated to achieving his goals. Even in that casino with all that money and all that time, I doubt he ever thought to lay out and catch a nice tan while taking over a country.

So, perhaps he would like to go somewhere tropical. Nice, windy beach with those expensive drinks and fancy straws to sip on. Maybe he’d like to go on a hiking trip through the mountains somewhere, camping out each night and ‘roughing’ it up.

Or, in all honesty, just put this man in a hotel somewhere far away and tell him to not work for the weekend at least. Then maybe forever.

Attempt 2: A Massage

This could tie in with the first (and is totally not an excuse to put my hands on him) but this man is knotted all the way up. Considering his Devil Fruit and the lack of people he would trust to touch him that intimately, I have high doubts he has ever had a massage. Hell, I doubt he’s had much human interaction outside of possible physical violence on another person.

Therefore, you get this man to slide off his coat and even just lean forward enough so you can start working those shoulders, you might just take enough tension off of him that he would entirely forget about wanting to take over any countries or kill old people that scarred his face up. A full body massage and this man might just fall to pieces on you.

Attempt 3: Kisses?

Just...like kiss the man? His lips are probably chapped, and his skin might not be so smooth if he keeps up his sandy texture, but he definitely needs a kiss. A forehead kiss, a cheek kiss, a neck kiss. Hell, kiss his hand and make him feel like a king. Give this man all the affection he could have with your lips and that might just be a distraction enough that he would forget he’s supposed to be evil. Is he misbehaving and threatening more crimes that should make you dislike him? Forehead kiss. Solves all the problems.

Attempt 4: Get Him Nicer Pets

The Bananagators are cool. They’re great, even, but they just scream ‘evil’. You know what doesn’t scream evil? A gecko. A ferret. Anything but the giant, menacing creatures that he actively uses to devour other people. Get this man a small animal (preferably non-venomous and also small enough that they can’t eat people) and make him care for it. Get him something high-maintenance that will require all of his attention and he has no time to be evil. Simple yet effective.

Attempt 5: F U C K H I M

See a pattern yet?

All these villainous people are pent up. They have issues, they’re angry, and they’re not shagging up in the way they need to be. So, take off your pants and put this man through the ringer. I’m talking like sap this man of any ounce of energy he has by riding him into oblivion and make sure there’s not a single functioning brain cell in that mind to even imagine being evil again. Oh, he probably has stamina, but you can get creative. Wring him out like a wet towlette until he has only drops to give and keep wringing.

In Conclusion

I swear I can ALSO fix him.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #sir crocodile #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #i can fix him

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fxckin-polkadots · 2 years

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Hello! I don't know if you accept requests right now, but since Alphonso supposedly likes guys like canonically, can we have a any ideas you have for him in an mlm relationship?

i still do take requests yeah!!! and i didn’t actually know he was supposedly gay/bi i just thought he was gay coded 😭 but i do have a few!!! (since i’m a gay man who’s in love w/ him) and this request has made my day like oh my god you have no idea how insane i am over this man

An MLM Relationship with Alphonso Hargreeves // TUA

Master List

Warnings: mild body insecurities / Not proof read

A/N: I kinda strayed slightly from the ask; but not rlly pff, also i couldn’t help but add some angst im sorry 😭

Pairing: Alphonso x Male!reader

Synopsis: Relationship specifics - Y/N alluding to meeting Alphonso’s family one day

—————————————————————————

Alphonso has only ever had interaction with the outside world for about, what…5 ish years? sure he’s spent most of his life saving other people but he’s never actually spoken to them more than an “are you okay?” when he saves them from either a robbery or something like that, and his only actual friend in the academy had been his sister, Jayme.

This all changed however, when he got a boyfriend. Alphonso has never been in a romantic relationship before, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try his best to make sure you know how much he loves you.

He mostly shows love through poking fun/light teasing, snarky little remarks here and there. This is always usually followed by an equally quick comeback from you, which is a prelude to the banter that will go on for hours. In public he’s not physically affectionate, except for maybe holding hands. It’s not that he’d mind letting the world know that you were everything to him, but mostly that he’s afraid of what people would say to you about him.

The world isn’t nice to people like him, and he’s used to peoples comments on his appearance, being Reggie’s kid he has to have thick skin right? But it’ll never get easier being stared or pointed at. Even if it’ll never erase how the media keeps him under a microscope, always bringing up his scarring, the soft compliments he gets from you melts away the pain even for a moment. “You’re so handsome ‘Fonz,” “I love everything about you, y’know?” hearing this coming from his boyfriend - someone he never expected to have in his life- well, maybe he starts to believe it just a little bit.

When you do hang out in public, he takes you to his favourite locations in the city, and if you have some you want to show him, he’s more than enthusiastic to let you take him there. He also enjoys cheesy movie dates it he’s able to rent out the whole theater, he doesn’t want people interrupting his movie night with you. You’ve definitely helped him experience things he’d never thought he’d ever have (like having a playlist on spotify dedicated to him, he didn’t even know what spotify was until he met you actually)

However in private, he can’t get enough of you. You can expect a few pecks on the cheek, or a warm hug from behind while you’re checking you phone, his head resting on the back of yours slightly as he tells you he loves you. When you’re alone with him in his room, cuddles are definitely a must too, you are either resting on his chest, his arm wrapped around you, or he’s laying on yours, your fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. He’d never tell you this, but he appreciates the softer side of your relationship, where he can just relax for once.

For anniversaries he definitely spends a shit ton of money on you, like his dad’s loaded so he might as well use the old man’s money to make someone happy, however he doesn’t actually know what to get you. Since he’s never had an anniversary to look forward too, but you always tell him anything he gets you will mean more than the world to you.

Speaking of relaxing, most of that was spent at your place. Alphonso was much too cautious of his family to bring you over, and he knew that sneaking you in would be too risky, and as laid back as he could be, the thought of accidentally putting his boyfriend in harms way made his stomach turn. But he knew they had to know at some point, especially Jayme. And she’d figure it out whether or not Alphonso was ready to talk about you.

Luckily for Alphonso (or maybe unluckily) Fei had been keeping an eye on him, Jayme had made the point it was odd he was leaving more, especially without her. So Fei and Jayme decided that a few of her birds could follow him to see what he was up to. They didn’t know what to expect really, but him having a secret lover they didn’t know about was definitely not a possibility they had thought of.

So when ‘Fonz decided to tell Jayme, was then told she had always known and so did Fei because her birds had been watching him, Alphonso’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He made Jayme promise to not tell anyone and make sure Fei didn’t either.

“Too late fuck face literally everyone knows, plus why would it be that big of a deal? Ben goes through girls like clockwork, just because you have a boyfriend doesn’t mean we’re gonna dog pile you with questions”

When relaying this all to you over dinner at your place, you can’t help but giggle and suggest to Alphonso that you should probably meet his siblings personally sometime. He agrees, and now he has to think of a way to actually do that, but right now, he thinks he’ll just enjoy the food and your company first.

—————————————————————————

There was so much more i wanted to put into this but i literally do not know how to put it properly into words i am so in love with this goob

I HOPE THIS OKAY ANON !!! i’m glad there are other alphonso lovers out there <3

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

#punk!georgenotfound #punk!george #punk!gnf #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound au #georgenotfound smut #gnf x y/n #gnf smut #gnf x reader #gnf imagine #mcyt x you #mcyt au #mcyt x y/n #mcyt smut

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lexsssu · 3 years

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𝑷𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 (𝒁𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊) - 𝑺𝒉𝒊́

Ao3 ver.

“You are capable of much more gentleness than you realize, Morax”

“What use do I have for gentleness? This world is harsh, Guizhong. Excessive gentleness will lead to our downfall and you have more than enough of that for the both of us”

The goddess of dust could only smile softly at her friend’s response, shaking her head before staring down at her reflection upon the surface of her tea. The porcelain cup felt warm in her hands, steam drifting upwards and warming her face while she watched Warrior God train from the corner of her eye, always honing his skills with barely a second of rest. His dedication and pragmatism was to be admired, especially his skill in the military arts, but the goddess knew that their world wouldn’t always be like this.

She knew that there would be one day when the seemingly endless conflict would abate. When that time comes, no longer would he need to brandish his spear.

And gentleness would no longer need to hide behind crevices and cracks as the world begins to heal from the scars left behind by the warring deities.

“I believe otherwise, dear friend. I know deep within my heart that there will come such a time when that stone-cold heart of yours softens for a special maiden. Even the immovable Morax can fall prey to the charms of an especially gentle lady,” Guizhong giggles behind the fabric of her sleeve, amusement in her features as she imagined such a scenario.

Morax merely rolls his eyes and continues with his training, polearm thrusting into an imaginary enemy before backflipping away as if to avoid an attack.

“...Believe what you will.”

══════════════════

“I apologize for not being able to speak to you in a while. There has been much excitement for some time that I’d been unable to sit down with you again…

I’ve...taken a wife. She is quite a fetching young woman...with the fluffiest cheeks in all of Teyvat…

She’s not from Liyue, but she might as well be one with how easily she’s adapted and befriended everyone. Although a bit naive, her heart is in the right place…

She’s also the...softest creature I’ve come to know. So gentle and fragile...it feels like I’m an old cow eating young grass at times. Though I assume that you’d probably find that hilarious, won’t you? Regardless of how it may look, I’d sooner face Osial in his prime again than ever let her go…

You’re probably laughing right now, aren’t you? Though I guess that I do deserve it considering how I brushed you off whenever you talked about these things. Here I am now, as smitten as you said I’d be and my heart worn down and softened like mere putty in her hands…

I just wish you’d been able to meet her…

Thank you again for listening to me ramble on. It was nice to converse with you again, old friend. Perhaps next time I can bring her here to visit you. Now isn’t the best time considering her current condition, but I’m sure she’d be thrilled to visit.”

“Didn’t I tell you, Morax? Even the hardest stone can be worn down. All it takes is a very special person~”

══════════════════

“Beautiful jasmine flower

Beautiful jasmine flower

Sweet-smelling, beautiful, stems full of buds

Fragrant and white, everyone praises

Let me pluck you down to give to someone

Jasmine flower, jasmine flower”

Alone within the confines of your own home, you absent-mindedly sang a traditional Liyue folk song you’d learned from the local children as you stirred the pot of Slow-Cooked Bamboo Shoot Soup, your husband’s favorite.

The combined scents of the fresh bamboo shoots, meat, and ham were in harmony as they wafted up to your nose and filled the rest of your kitchen. You take care not to bump into anything as you bustled about, not when your belly was already bulging as you entered the middle stages of your pregnancy.

Dr. Baizhu had reassured you that the most dangerous period of your pregnancy had passed already, your fetus becoming stable and merely needing constant adequate nourishment until the birth. You’d taken his prescriptions to heart and made sure to take all the prenatal supplements with dedication, determined to give your child the smoothest start possible.

Although your husband had become more clingy and possessive ever since he’d learned of your pregnancy, you honestly didn’t mind his hovering and overprotective nature. Rather, it made you blush to the tips of your ears whenever you felt his looming presence behind you, his warm breath hitting the nape of your neck as delighted shivers raced down your spine.

He was off on an important errand right now, but he’d promised to be back within the day. A promise you were sure he’d keep, considering the man could barely stand an hour away from you unless whatever required his attention was absolutely necessary.

Despite the distance, you were looking forward to his return like you always did.

There was never a moment that you didn’t eagerly await for your next meeting even before he’d plucked up the courage to properly court you. Giggling as you recount how the normally composed man fumbled for once as he tried to express his romantic interest in you, you fail to hear the sound of footsteps within the humble abode.

“Now what has gotten my wife so amused?”

You squeak in surprise as a pair of muscled arms wrap around your waist from behind, trapping you against a firm body that you’ve gotten to know quite well these past few years.

Seeing that it was your husband, you pout at the taller man for startling you to which he merely steals a kiss from your puckered lips before chuckling as he pressed his forehead against yours. With barely any distance in between you, Zhongli could see every speck of color within your eyes, the plumpness of your moist lips, and the delicate blush upon the skin of your cheeks.

He could eat you right up.

And that is exactly what he planned on doing as he picked you up with one arm, dousing the fire and covering the soup with the other before hauling you off back into your bedroom as you clutch him with a red face.

Zhongli had many regrets in his long, long life.

He also had many things he wished could become reality.

However, there has only ever been one prayer he’d had in his life.

𝑀𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒

𝑇𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑦𝑜𝑢

𝑇𝘩𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑟

#lexsssu writes #genshin impact #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact morax #zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli x reader #genshin impact morax x reader #genshin #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #morax #morax x reader #reader-insert #reader insert #character x reader

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lynnthefrenchtoast · 2 years

Text

🌱reading fanfic reccs

so. i made a post abt my favourite fanfics and asked for reccomendations. and i can say with 100% certainty these reccs DID. NOT. DISSAPOINT.

so ill be posting my thoughts after i finish every fic and hopefully we can brainrot tgt

⚠️: i dont believe in unsolicited criticism so this isnt a 'judging fics' thing. its more like 'omg this is so cool let me scream abt it'

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

• i love the headcanon that the pearl galley is an..., aha,, bc one of my fav fics also includes it (unsure what fic it was but its probably Set in Stone by seredemia)

• HUTAO CONTENT WOOHOO

• e-escort childe??? im listening.

• "He wasn’t a good person, not in the slightest, but it was sickening to prey on the vulnerable." SEE WE STAN MORALLY GOOD MASS GENOCIDERS

• th-the way they describe zhongli god i mean we all know hes pretty but gOSH- IN A WHITE DRESS SHIRT?? WITH COR LAPIS JEWELRY?? MANZ I DONT EVEN DESCRIBE THE OUTFITS IN MY WRITING BC IM UNCREATIVE

• "exposing the salacious curvature of his legs." the writing feels erotic even though its not a dirty scene smhdirnr i aspire to be able to write like this////

• THE TENSION. thetensionthetensionthetension- also: gambling? not good. childe and zhongli gambling tgt in fiction? yesyesyesyesyes

• "Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself." god. what an incredible line.

• "but a human-sized lucky charm isn’t convenient. The purpose of a charm is to carry it around, correct? One couldn’t reasonably carry another person around all the time."

"You could with dedication,"

• *lynn is filled with dedication*

• (thats an undertale reference)

•“Maybe I do, but ask me if I mean it with everyone.”

“Do you mean it with everyone?”

“No, but I mean it with you,”

....SORRY ID SIMPLY PASS AWAY

• “I’m a detective, with the Wangsheng Detective Agency.” AND EVERYONE CLAPPED!!!

• slightly embarrassed for childe telling a lie to the man himself but the TENSION. TENSIONTENSIONTENSION- makes up for it.

• "was sort of cute, honestly, in part because of how impartial he’d appeared most of the time." ZHONGLI POUTING. CUTE.

• “I do not believe I am that mysterious or handsome, so you can just call me Zhongli.”

“Humble mysterious handsome detective then,”

yall think youd do so good in a mafia au but the moment he says smn like this to me its game over hes won im giving him my info

• the deadness of childe behind his playful facade is something i need more emphasis on in zhongchi fics.

• “You say I’m bad, but who keeps paying for me?”

“Arrogance isn’t a pretty look.”

“You’re one to talk.”

hes going to be important. hes going to be unlikeable, i know.

• ...BUT HE HAS BLUE EYES HOW AM I NOT SUPPOSED TO LIKE HIM

• blue is my favourite color black is my favourite hair color HE HAS BOTH.

• "my camellia." bye. yea. vortex, his name was?? yea hes mine now.

• side note; i has to go back and check the fic for vortex's pronouns bc i didnt wanna assume then i realized.... hes literally a book character how would i be assuming hE HAS NO FACE LYNN

• “C’mon, you stared at me enough the other night to know my body’s in great shape.”

Zhongli curled the hand he was resting against into a fist, pressing his cheek to his knuckles. “I was not staring at you.”

• sure xiansheng, sure.

• "He wondered, was it an innate inclination to distrust? Or life experience? His myriad of scars, mysterious lines tugging at Zhongli’s curiosity, made him inclined to believe it was the latter."

the innate curiosity to want to see someone as who they really are. MMM.

• "“Did you rest well last night?” Zhongli asked, an innocent question which made Childe pause, calculating some hidden meaning."

genuine consideration for my wellbeing? oh no. *pulls out wedding ring*💍🧎

• “Believe it or not, this is me being gentle,” *COUGH* *COUGH* HEAR THAT?? ITS LYNNS SELF RESPECT- FLYING OUT THE WINDOW

• "-Zhongli imploringly to call off his attack dog"

CHILDE AS ZHONGLIS ATTACK DOG MAKES SO MUCH SENSE AGAGGAHSDH

• “Let’s get some food, shall we? I know a good place.” EMOTIONAL ATTACHMENT TIME.

• "And you cannot hold a pair of chopsticks."

"I can hold them."

"Not properly."

mood.

• im chinese and i also cant hold chopsticks

• “So with chopsticks, how am I supposed to eat rice?” He looked between the utensils and his bowl of rice as if he were figuring out a math equation. “Do I just… pick it up one piece at a time?”

Zhongli bit the inside of his cheek, and nodded stiffly. “Yes. Try it out.”

• zhongli, you true menace.

• theory right now: vortex is gonna be a part of the san flore gang.

• “if I recall correctly, you said you enjoyed those.” THEYRE SO CUTE

• "Am I not the epitome of caution?"

"No," Zhongli answered immediately, blunt as a hammer. "It’s selfish, perhaps even egocentric, but I feel responsible for your well-being since I allowed you into the investigation."

genuine consideration for my wellbeing? oh no *pulls out a second, more expensive wedding ring* 💍💍🧎

• THEORY AGAIN: VORTEX IS GONNA BE THE LEADER OF THE SAN FLORE GANG AND THE ONE WHO KILLED HAVRIA

• update: i was wrong abt the leader thing. THE HAVRIA THING MAYBE?? LIYUE QIXING??

• "Zhongli continued, far, far gentler than Childe would have been with himself." a detail. a tiny detail but wow.

• "He almost wished Zhongli would take his forearm in his hands and snap it in half, just to feel something familiar."

..you ok bestie-

• "he looked away politely as Childe changed into it, as if he didn’t work in a brothel where it was his job to be ogled. " TREATING PPL WITH BASIC RESPECT IS THE FIRST STEP TO GET THEM TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU GOOD JOB ZHONGLI

• "Cute, said a part of his brain, which he promptly dismissed, while another voice wanted to chide him into wearing clothes properly." ZHONGLIIIIIII

• the hotpot scene. ITS SO GOOD THE DIALOGUE THE WRITING THE CHOPSTICKS THE REX LAPIS THE FINALLY ADDRESSING CHILDES MYSTERIOUSNESS

• "This was nice. It made Zhongli's stomach twist."

• and

• "Havria was a vegetarian."

• amazing sentences.

• THAT GOODBYE SCENE WAS BRILLIANT. WITH CHILDE FLIRTING JUST BEFORE SAYING GOODBYE. AND WITH ZHONGLI WATCHING HIS FIGURE ALL THE WAY UNTIL HE DISSAPEARS. AND AND AND.

• i could literally feel what it felt like as you left your friend's house and soaked in the silence

• like that mix of 'woo im tired' and 'oh. its quiet.' TRANSLATED PERFECTLY

• "until he stood undeniably alone." see this line is perfect because 'alone' is obvious. 'alone' doesnt say much. when you say 'undeniably alone' it tells a little bit of a story: that zhongli is in denial of his loneliness.

• and that, i think, is the kind of writer i wish i could be

• "The hands in the mirror were covered in blood, sticky and red, heavy rivulets dripping down his wrists. The thick blood seeped into every crevice of his hands, stained beneath his fingernails. It kept dripping. He would drown in it. Even if he washed his hands again, he would not be clean."

• ...that imagery OW.

• "I mean, it's what a person is. Alive. Or dead. Or they’re you and get to be both alive and dead, but you’re a unique case.” THATS SO HUTAO TO SAY I LOVE HER

• ...ITS NOT FINISHED????

• BRO ITS SO GOOD BUT IT HASNT BEEN UPDATED IN SO LONG CRAP

..and thats where the notes end. PFFT

all in all, very much enjoyed it. thank you for the recc, SEND ME MORE THATS A DEMAND

#zhongchi #chili #genshin impact #ao3fic #archive of our own #mafia au #zhongli #rex lapis #morax #tartagalia genshin impact #genshin ajax #childe #fanfic reccomendation #fanfic #fanfiction

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valwentinefics · 3 years

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I’m saving you - Dark!Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

A/n: Hey guys It’s your friendly neighbourhood Zemo simp Aur. Law class is kicking my ass big time so sorry this took so long for me to post. I really like dark Zemo so if you’d like to send requests that’d be really nice but I can’t promise they’ll be out fast! Also the gif on this just makes me go AAAAA. Not sure if I like this or not, but I loved the concept and it was a request so it’s being posted anyways.

Warnings: Zemo is basically a yandere, kidnapping and drugging, mentions of Zemo’s family’s death, past suicidal Zemo, swearing.

Word count: 1736

Plot: It was difficult for Y/n not to fall for Helmut Zemo and soon she would realize it would be even more difficult to get away. When she tells him he can’t protect her from everything he knows he has to find a way... even if his methods are unconventional. (Takes place during episode 4 of tfatws, cannon divergent and possible part 2)

Y/n laid in Zemo’s bed, her fingers gently tracing the small scars from knives and bullets that littered his bare torso. His warm earthy eyes watched her with soft adoration as she laid her head on his chest, sighing contently as his hands ran through her hair. This was something that happened often between the two and Y/n arguably loved it more than the sex that came before it. It was nice laying in the quiet. The only sound that filled the room was their breaths or Zemo’s occasional quiet and rough humming.

Y/n had been apprehensive about Zemo when she first met him. She had never before encountered him in person but he was a popular topic on the news when he was arrested and tried for what he had done. As a friend of Bucky she had originally been against the man, giving him harsh glares whenever he spoke or came too close to her, but eventually against her better judgement she began to develop a fondness for him. It was hard not to when he would talk to her oh so kindly with his beautifully articulate accented voice, or how he’d look at her as if she was the only person in the room when she spoke. His intelligence and various skills attracted her to him even more, and Y/n found herself falling for the man before she even had a chance to breathe.

She lifted her head off his chest and sat up, running a hand through her hair to try and fix it from the messy state it was in from their previous activity. Y/n sent a smile to Zemo, her arms in the air and back arching as she stretched before getting off the plush bed, walking around the room to gather her clothes.

“Where are you going, Liebling?” He asked sitting up, a few unruly bits of hair falling into his face. She was the only one he would allow to see him like this, soft and not well put together.

“Well, me and Bucky have plans to walk around and see if we can find out any information about the Flag Smashers.” She said casually, pulling on her clothes.

Zemo’s body tensed. “I’ll come with you.” He said as he picked up his clothes that had been discarded on the ground and putting them on as he found them.

“No, two people is enough, any more and it’ll look weird.” Y/n explained, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

“But what if you get hurt, you know what they’re capable of.” He countered, his eyes wandering over her face, filled with concern.

Y/n let out a soft laugh. “You know, you won't always be able to protect me from everything Helmut. I’m not fragile, have some faith in me.” She pressed her lips against his for a second before walking out, not seeing how his eyes hardened as her words sank into him.

Helmut Zemo had lost everything before he found Y/n. Formerly the leader of EKO Scorpion, a Baron of his country, and a father, Zemo had it all until it all came crashing down. Literally. When the dust settled upon Sokovia he wasn’t only looking at the ruins of his country, but of his life and everything he had achieved. After that he was consumed by vengeance and sorrow, dedicating what he believed and intended to be the last year of his life to avenging his late family. When he was put into prison he felt no joy for how his plan worked, only numbness as he waited patiently, anticipating his eventual death. However when Bucky assisted his escape and brought him to the mechanics where his eyes met Y/n’s, he suddenly found a reason to stay around longer.

Zemo ran his gloved fingers through his hair, his jaw clenched as he thought to himself. He couldn’t lose Y/n, she was the one thing he had. He had lost so much previously that even the thought of losing the one last person who belonged to him was almost enough to send him into a frenzied state. Y/n’s words kept echoing in his head, mocking him as he stood. He had to do something, he had to find a way to protect her from everything.

Y/n laughed at Bucky’s joke as the two walked back into Zemo’s home, a smile plastered on her face. She was unaware of Zemo’s glare burning holes into where Bucky’s hand rested on the small of her back. Y/n didn’t see any issue with how close she and Bucky were, even leaning more into his larger body to steady herself as she slipped off her shoes.

“Y/n, how did it go?” Asked Zemo who laid on the couch, his voice sounding tense.

“Nothing productive.” She sighed, waving to Bucky as he quietly went to the room he was staying in. He didn’t like being around Zemo more than he needed to which she understood.

“You should have let me come along, I’m good at getting information.” Zemo said, standing up. His movements were smooth and confident. She admired how he always stayed and looked in control no matter the situation. “Would you like a drink Liebling?”

Y/n nodded in reply, heading to the couch and sitting by the arm rest, enjoying the simplicity of the situation. Just two lovers enjoying a drink together. It made her feel awfully domestic and she enjoyed it. In another life maybe they could have lived like this everyday, quietly enjoying each others company, but it was an unrealistic dream. She was a friend of Bucky and Sam, she would never truly experience peace and safety. There would always be a villain threatening someone, and Y/n would always have to help stop it.

Zemo walked back over, handing Y/n her glass and placing his on the coffee table, freeing up his hands to pull Y/n into his lap. They stayed in silence, Y/n enjoying the whiskey. She downed it quickly, noticing Zemo must have gotten her a different type than usual, it had an odd aftertaste but she didn’t mind it enough to bring it up. It was calming being with Zemo, so much so that her eyes grew heavy, and she leaned into his chest while letting out a content sigh.

The sound of soft music gently pulled Y/n out of her sleep, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the bright light coming from a window and falling onto her face. The place she was in was odd and unfamiliar. The realization that she had not fallen asleep here and her arms being bound tightly behind her back with a soft fabric sent waves of panic through her body as she jolted up, looking around the room. Where was Zemo and the others? Were they safe? The room itself didn’t seem dangerous, the furnishings similar to that of a nice hotel. It was tidy and well kept which almost made it more frightening than it would have been if it was dilapidated.

“Hello?” Y/n called out, moving to the edge of the bed, her feet dangling off as she was about to stand up when the door creaked open, revealing Zemo. Relief flooded her body as soon as she saw the man, instantly feeling a little safer.

“Helmut, where am I? Why are my hands tied?” Y/n looked at him questioningly.

Zemo smiled at her as he approached. “This is all to keep you safe.” He said, his hand tucking some stray pieces of hair behind Y/n’s ear as he stood before her.

His words confused Y/n. “What do you mean this is to keep me safe? Helmut what’s going on?” She struggled to free her hands. Something wasn’t right here. The feeling of dread ate at her stomach as she watched him.

He shushed her softly, his hand gently stroking the soft skin of her cheek. “Stop struggling, you don’t need to worry about anything anymore. I couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt any longer. I knew I had to do something, I can’t lose you too. Maybe I slipped something into your drink, I apologize for that. It was a necessary evil to get you here, where you could be safe with me.”

Y/n’s eyes widened as she stared at the man in front of her, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon her. “Helmut, why the fuck did you kidnap me?”

“Don’t look at me with such fear Y/n, it hurts me.” He frowned. “From the first time I looked in your eyes I knew you were different from the rest. You just have a quality about you, something indescribable that draws me to you. I was lost, suicidal, every day I spent waiting for death, until I looked in your eyes and found something to live for. The thought of you getting hurt… I just can’t even stomach it. You’re all I have and I can’t lose any more people I love.”

His words scared her, sending a chill through her body. “I won’t tell anyone if you let me go, I won’t leave you either. We can pretend this never happened!” Y/n pleaded desperately as her mind raced.

Zemo’s hand tightly gripped her jaw in anger, his gloved fingers digging into her skin roughly. “Don’t speak like that, I’m risking so much for you right now, a little gratitude would be nice.” He growled, before exhaling, letting go as he calmed himself down. “Apologies, I suppose I do understand where you’re coming from, I know what it’s like to be locked away. Liebling, I promise to you that I will never hurt you. I’ll give you everything you could possibly desire. All I ask for in return is your love.”

A sob escaped Y/n’s throat, tears falling down her face. Zemo pulled her into his body as if she was made of glass, his arms tenderly holding her against his warm chest. “I want to go home.” She cried.

Zemo sighed. “This is your home meine Liebe. I’ll cherish and care for you. One day you’ll learn to appreciate it, and we’ll have a perfect family. You’ll thank me for this once you realize I’m saving you.”

#zemo x reader #helmut zemo #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws x reader #tfatws

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years

Note

Lately, everything has been terrible and stressful can I please get some fluff between sole and a married romanced companion doing married couple stuff?

(Heyy, I recognize you from my Skyrim blog! Hope everything starts getting better, whatever is going on)

(This is one of those things where if ya'll want a little drabble with a specific character..just ask! This may be more of a romantic fluff thing because i don't really know how to specifically make it about them being married //although I am thinking of writing wedding Headcanons// but you get the gist.))

Cait:

•She never thought she would ever find herself here. Surely, she thought, she would've been beaten to death or overdosed before love ever would've been in the cards. So, it would be a vast understatement to say she's sometimes at a loss for words when she looks at you. Her wife/husband..damn that felt good.

•Often times you are privileged to the more tender side of Cait, the side of her that allows her to be completely at ease. During these times, she'll allow you to kiss some of her scars- her face flushing a furious red similar to one of her hair. She usually isn't the sappy type, but if you tell her that you love them as much as you love her..cue the waterworks.

•It's maybe not the romantic gesture, but she finds herself consistently sharpening your knives when you aren't around- placing them back in your knapsack before you get home. Partially accredited to her want for your safety and otherwise well being.

•If you have long enough hair, she sometimes will braid it in one of those fancy four strand braids..you know..to keep it out of your face for combat.

•Bunch of nights spent on the roof of red rocket sipping crappy warm beer but neither of you caring, much too invested in each other's presence to be picky.

Curie:

•She keeps a very strict journaling of her research records...she also keeps one detailing every little aspect of you that she loves. She isn't exactly sure why she started doing this, but..it quickly becomes a post-war like scrapbook of the two of you. The biggest picture with tons of little hearts around it is the one of the two of you on your wedding day.

•You can sometimes find her uncontrollably grinning whenever she takes off her lab gloves and sees her wedding ring. She doesn't dare ever take it off.

•The second you get sick she is there by your side, the whole "in sickness" part of her vows surely weren't just for tradition.

Danse:

•Just as you wear his, Danse never parts with your dog tags. Between them and his ring, they may as well be a part of him. Danse also has your initials engraved on the gauntlets of his power armour.

•Danse is surprisingly physically affectionate. As such, there are many instances where your ever so serious husband will stop you, running his thumb over your cheek before randomly giving you a chaste kiss. Afterwards he almost always follows the action up with something along the lines of "I'll never understand how I've became lucky enough to be able to call you mine."

•Enjoys you keeping him company when he works on power armour or weapons. Even if you have no skill in blacksmithing, he will insist that you join him. Just imagine it- a warm wasteland afternoon, Dogmeat laying out in the sun, some tune playing over the radio while a sweaty, tank top wearing Danse getting you to mod weapons with him.

Deacon:

•Deacon easily becomes very protective over you, who can blame him? His luck with marriage hasn't been the best...but then again..neither has your's. The more serious side of your relationship will always be the lingering fear of losing each other..it's good enough to make you hold each other closer at night.

•Late night snack breaks while the radio plays and the two of you dance around together is a must have for each night.

•You two are now formally known as the only married couple of the Railroad. Congrats.

Gage:

•Totally has gotten a tattoo of your name. Let's face it, you probably have one of his as well.

•Loves spoiling you as much as he possibly can without crossing the line as your "right-hand" man. Gangs can't know too much. Well, they already know you're married..but you know..

•Doesn't drink very often, matter of fact he used to despise it. However, he soon sees the merriment in it via drunken antics with just you in your own privacy. Oh, expanding upon this..it's sort of a morning ritual for the two of you to watch the sunrise and drink some nuka-quantum to get the day going.

Hancock:

•The people of Goodneighbor view the two of you like some cool political power couple. It's neat. With that reputation also comes your husband seeking your counsel in political matters, let's just face it, he sometimes needs some guidance on how to be more strict without breaking his "code".

•Serves as a wonderful listener. I know, bare minimum- but seriously, he is incredibly wise when it comes to everyday strife. Plus, there isn't anyone else he'd rather listen to than his sweet sunshine.

•Often presents you with lavish gifts that you probably don't want to know where he got the funds for. Doesn't matter.

Macready:

•He probably will have warned you a thousand times over before marriage but by marrying you, Duncan has to come into the big picture. So, marrying Mac means adopting yourself another little one and becoming your own perfect family.

•As such, a lot of the fluffier times have to do with all of you bonding. Be it making some strange wasteland alternative to pancakes in the morning or going out together to go shoot cans off the fence- life is pretty good.

•Mac becomes at ease whenever he feels completely secure. This will bleed over into every aspect of him, meaning you'll often times find him being less awkward with flirting with you and he also isn't as guarded.

Maxson:

•Although the two of you both uphold your duties to a tee, you always make sure to have time dedicated to the two of you. Regarding this, Arthur is completely in awe during the first few months of your marriage. He knew he wanted you, he just didn't ever imagine it would happen like this, plus being such a young newlywed surely puts an extra pep in his step.

•On some of the off days where he can just have you all to himself: he likes to play chess, take walks, and simply cuddle the hours away.

•I also believe it's worth mentioning that Arthur occasionally leaves you heartfelt love letters around where you'll get them. So even in the days he can't spend devoted to you, at least you'll have that.

Nick:

•Slow dancing? Oh hell yes. Slow dances in the agency to songs like "Easy Living" are a common occurrence for the two of you.

•You'll never doubt how much he loves you, I can guarantee that much. Nick is nothing if not a romantic.

Piper:

•Date nights spent enjoying some power noodles as she screws with the robot vendor.

•Also a repeat offender of leaving love notes for you to find. Only she gets embarrassed if you bring them up. She's happy you like them, but..don't say anything.

•Nat is also a part of the family. Just so you know!

Preston:

•Regularly finds himself admiring you, not in the strictly surface way either. He just can't get over how wonderful you've made his life from the moment you entered it.

•Garvey loves taking you for some safe wasteland foraging, maybe not the most splendid married couple outing but, eh, it works!

X6-88:

•If given the opportunity, he'll sometimes play some songs for you if you happen to find a piano that still functions.

•The whole "married" thing sometimes confuses him. He loves you, but is he supposed to treat you any differently? Probably not- but he still wonders every once in a while

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sunaswife · 3 years

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𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖍𝖎𝖒

Shigaraki X f! Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, brainwashed/ programmed reader, implied kidnapping, Dom/sub, use of the word ‘pet’ and ‘master’, first time sex, uh..does this count as yandere..? Idk lol

🔪: this is like my second time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s bad 🙇‍♀️ plz don’t spank me. N E Wayz I dedicate this fic to @aoi-turtle 🖤 and Any other shiggy whores out there

Edit: I FORGOT TO TAG @dinablossom and @toworuu IM SO SORRY BSVAKAGSJA

Summary: Imagine being programmed to be the leagues healer but also Shigaraki’s little cum bucket

♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎

“Master what is the meaning of this.” Shigaraki looked at the television screen as he scratched his neck. “I took her quirk and made it a thousand times better.” He said simply. “Tomura shigaraki where should I place her?” Kurogiri asked. “Anywhere. I don’t care. I just don’t understand why you brought a stupid hero here.” He said annoyed.

“Now now—“ “Shut up and put her somewhere out of my sight!” Tomura demanded and Kurogiri sighed and carried your body to the spare room by shigaraki’s private quarters. You looked dead, you were exhausted, traumatized, in shock.

You were frozen. Your eyes stayed open, unblinking as you stared at the ceiling. It looked as if you were dead. But your body is warm and you were breathing, you’re alive and you’ll recover quick. Thanks to the quirk All for One fixed for you.

Dabi smirked at your ruined form. Spinner hid his rosy cheeks, you were a cute one. Toga was excited to have another girl in the league she talked with Twice about all the fun things you two could do together. Whether it be painting your nails, doing your hair, torturing someone, or making them bleed. She was excited.

“What’s so good about her quirk that you needed it.” Shigaraki asked. “It’s come to my attention that the league has been missing an important puzzle piece.” He started off. “Yeah? What’s that?” The light blue haired man asked. He was beyond ticked off to have a hero here. “She’s not a hero. She was training under UA’s school nurse. But she fell into the hero course for recovery and first aid training.” He said and everyone stayed silent and patiently listened to the brain behind the league.

“Her quirk is pyrokinetic regeneration. She manipulates fire with the energy of the person who needs healing and together she heals with so called fire. Her quirk was small, only a few cuts a bruises here and there could she heal. But I added cell regeneration so she can even fix up deep wounds that could need surgery in a matter of days instead of months.”

“Sounds amazing! No she could use her fire against us!” Twice said and Toga nodded. “She won’t. Her fire doesn’t burn unless you’re hurt.” Kurogiri returned. “But she’s still a hero brat so wouldn’t she try to resist?” Dabi asked. “I don’t know but let me try and see!” Toga giggled and pulled out a knife she easily slit her wrist and skipped her way to your new room.

Out of curiosity the other members followed suit. Shigaraki first, he wanted to see if you were truly useful if not then he’d disintegrate you right here and now. “Hi hi new friend! My name is Toga!” The psychotic girl giggle as her blood dripped all over the floor. You looked up slowly from your spot on the bed. “H-hi...T-toga..” your voice was low. “Kurogiri Can you bring her some water?” Toga asked and he left and came back in the blink of an eye.

Your hands were shaking for the cup of water but Toga held it back, away from you. “If you want the water then heal my wrist first.” She said sweetly with a giggle. “Heal your wrist?” You whispered and she nodded. “O-okay..” you stuttered and you slowly removed the blanket from your lap. You stood up with wobbly legs to go to the girl but you fell. The chain on your ankle pulled you back. You winced and looked at her, pleading for her to come to you. She asked if you were okay and when you responded she shoved her bloody arm to your face. “Take a deep breath. This may sting...” you started and a small green flame came upon your hand. You rubbed the flame over both of your hands like you were putting on lotion, finally when the flames covered both hands you pressed hard on her wrist. She winced, “ow ow ow.” She whimpered, you removed your hands and everyone stared at the flame around her whole wrist. “Give it thirty seconds....or not...” you said as you stared wide eyed at her already healed cut. It was barley a touch and it’s gone now. “Wow. No scar!” She giggled and turned to show the guys. “Wow stab me next, please don’t or else I’ll bite ya!” Twice said and you reached for the water. “Interesting.” Shigaraki mumbled with a small squint. Kurogiri looked over and hoped he wouldn’t do anything bad to you.

“Shows over. She needs her rest.” Kurogiri said and everyone left one by one. Toga gave her a hug and wished for you both to be the best of friends and she skipped away. “Tomura Shigaraki. What are you thinking?” Kurogiri asked as Shigaraki began to walk into your room. “Nothing that concerns you.” He spat and slammed the door. Kurogiri sighed but returned to the bar nonetheless.

“Do you know who I am?” Shigaraki asked, “Yes you’re the leader of the league of villains, You’re name is Tomura Shigaraki and your quirk is decay—“ “that’s enough!” He raised his voice and looked at you with wide eyes.

You looked so sad and you glanced down at your cup. “Mr. shigaraki I know I don’t usually talk this much. I’ve always been the quiet type. I think whoever kidnapped me gave me a huge sense of knowledge. I know the league is bad but I don’t care about the heroes anymore and I don’t know why. I know everything about you guys, your true identity, your quirks, your past. And when I see you I—“ you quickly stopped yourself.

Shigaraki raised a brow. “You what?” He asked curiously. “N-nothing. Just forget it.” You answered and he growled. “Answer me now before I kill you.” He said and your legs subconsciously clenched together. You stayed quiet and your chest rose and fell a little more quickly. Why was this feeling in your chest when this killer, this man child looked at you? What exactly did the man he calls master do to you?

Before you knew it he gripped your chin and lifted it harshly so you could look at his wrinkly red eyes. Even though he looks like a bum he smelled nice and clean. A hand was covering his face and you slowly lifted your hand to touch it and his other hand grabbed your wrist. “What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish you fucking idiot?” He growled and you gulped. “C-can i see your face?” You asked and he tilted his head confused.

“No. Answer my question-“ before you both knew it, as if your body had a mind of its own you tackled shigaraki down and you snatched the hand off his face. His hand quickly wrapped around your neck and arm and you pressed your lips against his. He halted his finger from pressing against your neck. He was beyond confused.

“If only tomura finished listening to what i had to say.” All for one chuckled loudly. You both were able to faintly hear the television from down the hall. “He would know that I managed to change y/N’s desires and whole way of thinking. She’s now with the league of Villains and she’s in love with its leader, Tomura Shigaraki. Consider it a present and motivation for the future of the league.” You both heard and you pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.” You said lowly. He stood there stunned and silent.

He slowly sat up and looked at your figure. “So you were brainwashed like my Nomu.” He hummed and took a few steps back. He noticed how you crawled closer to him but the chain was keeping you away.

“Who do you love?”

“You.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Who’s your master?”

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

You said and he smirked. He was gonna have fun with you. “At least master was kind enough to give me a beauty.” He said as he held on to the chains. “Don’t freak out.” He warned and you nodded. He disintegrated the chain around your ankle and he pulled you by the arm. You were wearing an ugly hospital gown and you were barefoot. You couldn’t help but shiver. He went next door to his room and he shoved you in and slammed the door. You nearly tripped over the mess and you turned to look at shiggy. “Why are you just standing there?” He asked, “You haven’t given me orders.” You deadpanned. “You can’t think for yourself?” He questioned. “No i can but I Don’t want to upset you.” You replied.

“Fine then clean this shit up.” He referred to his very very messy room. You nodded and began to lift up a piece of trash but he pulled you away. “Change first.” He said and handed you a black hoodie. “Do you have a bathroom?” You asked. “No change here.” He said and you nodded. You turned so your back was facing him and carefully began to take off the gown, leaving you completely bare and Shigaraki couldn’t help but look.

Your skin was so beautiful and looked so soft. He saw as you carefully put on his hoodie and it completely engulfed you. It reached to your mid thigh. You slowly turned to look at him with rosy cheeks. The hoodie smelled just like him. “Tomura—“ “It’s master to you.” He Interrupted and you nodded, subconsciously squeezing your thighs together once more. “Sorry...m-master.” You said and played with the hem of his hoodie.

“Master..can I have some underwear too...? I feel weird, when I’m bare underneath..” you asked. “No, continue cleaning my room.” He answered coldly and sat on his gaming chair. He turned on his console and began playing whatever game he had.

You sighed and you couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous yet scarred face and his beautiful long fingers. In an instant he can kill you, but if you’re good..then he might even reward you. If you were to die, I’d rather be in the hands of your master than anyone else.

You quickly began you pick up the instant ramen bowls and bags of chips. You separated recycling and trash. You even managed to pick up all his dirty clothes and put it in the hamper in less than an hour. Tomura was stunned, one minute he can barley walk in, the next It’s almost spotless. He saw you from the corner of his eye, you were folding his clothes that practically had the same color scheme.

“Can i go through your drawers to put your clothes away..?” You finally spoke up. “Yeah it’s whatever. I don’t care.” He mumbled and returned to the screen. “Ugh stupid game!” He huffed and began pressing the controller more furiously. You chuckled and thought that it was so cute and adorable when he was frustrated.

You went to his California king sized bed and began to fix the sheets and make his bed. Since it was so huge, you had to climb on to properly fix it. You were completely in your own world when Shigaraki turned and saw your wet cunt on display in all it’s glory. Ever since he saw you he couldn’t help but feel that urge to take you. His resistance was getting to him and now he wanted to give in to his urges even more. He was too distracted that he lost the fucking game and he growled and disintegrated the controller. That was his own form of rage quitting.

You heard his sound of frustration so when you turned you expected him to be in the same chair uttering bullshit, but you were shocked when you felt your hips being pulled back. Your cunt was touching his pants, but you can feel his bulge. “Um..master..I—“

“Shut up.” He said and reached for your neck. He pulled you back to him and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hovering your aching clit. “This is whats gonna happen.” He started off and you nodded. “I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to like it. Okay?”

“I understand.” You said softly, you felt his hands slowly lift up the hoodie just a bit to get a better view of your ass. You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. “I know I’m probably not your dream girl but I promise to be a good girl, master..” your voice shook. He tilted his head, were you getting insecure?

“No pet, you’re perfect to me.” He assured and you could hear his belt jingle as he took it off. “You seem pretty wet already, pet. Since how long have you been like this?” He asked as he got out of his jeans. He slowly open your cheeks to reveal your little pussy clenching around nothing, how cute. “Since I saw you..” you mumbled. He smirked and leaned down. He immediately began to eat out your cunt causing you to gasp in shock and grip the sheets. Your chest layed roughly against the bed as your ass stood proud in the air for the leader of the league of villains to enjoy.

“Fuck—“ you moaned and you felt a slap on your ass. You slightly jumped released a small yelp. “Watch your language.” He growled from your pussy. “Yes master.” You whimpered and he slowly began to rub his thumb on your other hole. Your small moans filled the room and he easily slipped his middle finger in you. You squeezed around him so deliciously, he couldn’t help but wished his cock was inside.

This has never happened to him before, this feeling in his chest. Someone that loves him and will obey his every command. You’re so beautiful as well, and your sounds. Your moans and whimpers, in all honesty he jut wanted to get himself off. But after hearing you and seeing you. He wants to make sure you have pleasure as well.

He continued pumping his finger in and out of your slick walls and your voice started getting slightly higher. “Master...I—I’m gonna cum...”you panted and your toes began to curl. “It’s okay, cum for me, pet. You’ve been a good girl.” He said softly and he felt you clench around his finger. When you came he slowly removed his finger and examined it. You must be new to is if you could get off with just one of his long fingers.

You layed on the bed a bit tired, not paying attention to your master who had tasted your cum on his finger. It was delicious and he wanted another taste. When you felt a lick on your cunt again you immediately shivered and clenched your thighs. “Hold still I just wanna taste some cum.” Shigaraki huffed and he pulled your thighs apart. You were pretty sensitive but you obeyed nonetheless.

You moans began to fill the room once more and before you could finish and cum again he pulled away. You automatically whimpered and turned to give your master puppy dog eyes. “I would let you cum again, but my cock is so fucking hard I don’t think I can wait another minute.” he said and began to pull down his boxers.

Before you could get back in position, which freaking hurt, he flipped you over on your back and you made a small oof noise. You looked up to See shigaraki focused on his cock, he was rubbing himself up and down your slit to use your cum as lube. “Alright I’m going in.” He announced and slowly pushed his rather large member inside your tint cunt. You immediately yelped and held on to his biceps. “M-master wait—it hurts..” you pleaded and Tomura finally looked up at your face.

He loves inflicting pain, he loves watching people’s painful expressions when they’re hurt or when they’re gonna die. Chisaki’s face was so amusing. But when he saw yours, his heart shattered and he didn’t want to hurt you at all. You’ve been nothing but good to him, he doesn’t want to hurt his little toy. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “it’s okay..” you sniffled. After a minute of him being patient you gave him a nod and he continued to slowly bottom out.

You both released a moan when he was all the way in. You both have never felt anything like this before. “Can I start moving?” Shigaraki asked you as he brushed way the hair from your face. You nodded and he pulled almost all the way out and he slammed back in. Your little gasps and moans came back which made shigaraki feel at ease. You can clearly hear your slick with every thrust and it was music to his ears.

“I’ve been neglecting these.” He grunted and lifted his hoodie over your chest. Finally he was able to see your beautiful soft breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He moaned and immediately lowered his mouth to one of your nipples. You squealed and your back arched and he pushed you down. “Master...” you moaned softly. His tongue swirled around your hardened bud and your fingers tangled in his light blue hair. Two of his fingers pinched your other nipple and he lightly bit the nipple in his mouth.

“I think I-I’m close—“ you gasped and he removed his mouth. His thrusts decreased in speed but they became harder. He had a stupid smirk on his face and your eyes widened when he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Hold it until I say so.” He demanded and you muttered a weak yes. He felt how your gummy walls squeezed against his large dick, he was getting close too. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He groaned with his head tilted back and your mouth watered at the sight. Why is he so fucking handsome?

He could feel himself getting closer to his climax so he rubbed his thumb on you clit while increasing his pace once more, causing you to be even louder than before. Everyone in the bar could hear and a certain fire villian grumbled in annoyance. “Master I can’t hold it anymore!” You screamed. “Then cum my stupid little pet. Cum all over my cock like a good girl.” He grunted and bit his lip at the sight of your sweaty body. Your bouncing breasts, crazy hair, your adorable ahego face, your twitching legs and finally your grip on his biceps. You were so prefect and so good to him and only him.

When you came you felt his cum shoot inside you as well causing you to gasp at the delicious feeling. Tomura rested his head on your shoulder and tried catching his breath. You couldn’t help but smile and blush at the closeness. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and you gave his shoulder a kiss causing him to freeze. “I love you master, thank you for making me feel good.” You said softly. He chuckled and pulled you closer, “I love you too.”

I wanna write a part 2 of Shiggy finding out his little toy is being used by a certain fire boy 👀

#tomura shigaraki #shigaraki smut #league of villains #my hero academia #yandere shigaraki #smut #[🏌️‍♀️🔪.yandere]

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passable-talent · 3 years

Text

VADER X GN!READER

cryst am I writing a fic? what is that. who does that anymore akfkvjsb

dedicated to @sunsetkenobi bc she deserves it and I probably wouldn’t be writing this otherwise

okay so if you’ve seen how to train your dragon 2, this is that one scene. ya you know the one. I decided I wanted to break my own heart and here I am to do that so. ergo I do not own the song nor the original concept nor httyd akckcja

also I find writing vader exceedingly difficult thank u send tweet

my apologies for reappearing just to drop a mediocre fic

The stormtroopers took your saber when they captured you.

You had tears in your eyes as they ripped the blade from your grip, but you couldn’t do much about it, with force blockers around your wrists. You just had to watch as they carried away the last remaining piece of your husband.

You hadn’t seen Anakin since he left for Mustafar, intent on ending the Clone Wars. The last time you’d seen Obi-Wan, he told you that Anakin had been killed there, when a sith named Darth Vader struck him down.

Ever since, you’ve been hiding out. Hoping to escape the Jedi hunter who killed your husband. He was ruthless, and powerful, but you did your best to stay among the crowds, unseen, unnoticed.

Unnoticed was a word for it- you weren’t in Jedi robes, and you no longer had your saber. Being dragged through the bowels of an empire ship, stormtroopers flanking you on all sides, you looked like any other prisoner.

You got a cell far, far in the corners of the ship, like they were trying to bury you away. You took the steps down and into the cell and stood amongst it as the troopers left.

Your saber... who knows what they’d do with it. You’d made it with a piece of metal that Anakin had given you, a piece of scrap he’d found on one of his Padawan journeys with Obi-Wan. Nothing else... you had nothing else. You had nothing else of him. And now, your saber was gone, too.

So, your final few hours. You were caught as a Jedi, labeled a traitor to the empire. You were in the ship of Darth Vader, Jedi hunter. You were facing execution now, you knew it. You’d been caught.

So there was no need to hide anymore.

The cell was cold, but it wasn’t too bad. Your fingers would get chilly after a while, but for now, it was a good enough place to meditate. You hadn’t been able to take that risk in so long.

You sat down in the center of the cell, opening yourself to the force for the first time in years.

It was painful, at first. You felt great grief, all around you, surrounding you. It was familiar, too familiar, it brought you right back to the moment that Obi-Wan told you Anakin was dead.

But this was different.

It was a universal grief, one much bigger than one man. It was like a mourning of the force itself, mourning her lost Jedi, mourning each of the thousands of them.

You closed your eyes, feeling like you were leaving the cold cell, becoming bigger than it. You reached out to the ship, to the troopers who wouldn’t know the difference, the millions of miles of wiring working through the cruiser. You felt the metal, the heat, the drone-like worksmanship from the pilots and the sanitation crew.

And then you felt the anger. Rage, the likes of which you hadn’t felt in quite a while. It startled you, tossing you out of your meditation. You opened your eyes and fell backwards, catching yourself with your palms on the floor. And then the door opened.

You jumped to your feet, staring up at the imposing figure in the doorway. A black cape, a saber at his waist, and a menacing helmet.

He took a step into the room, and you took a step back. The door closed behind him.

“(Y/N) (L/N), Jedi scum,” Vader said, his voice deep and scratchy, even through the vocoder of his helmet.

“Lord Vader,” you answered, pressing your back against the wall. There was something to the area around him, the force felt so... unsettled. It was like he both channeled and reflected it, pulling it toward him and pushing it away. Like he was fighting it.

And yet... there was something familiar about him. Your gaze slipped back to his saber, which seemed so oddly familiar. His presence, as well. It made something in your mind ring, as though your own body felt him familiar, too.

How could that be?

“Keep your eyes from my saber,” Vader growled after a few moments of silence, “you won’t be taking it. You cannot escape.”

“I’m not thinking of taking it,” you assured him, hoping not to anger him. “It just... it reminds me of my husband’s saber.”

“Husband?” Vader echoed, his body unmoving. You wished he could at least take off the helmet so you could see his facial expression. “Jedi aren’t meant to marry.”

“I know,” you breathed out, trying to keep eye contact with the disturbingly familiar man, even through his helmet. “But I did.”

There was a moment in which the only thing you could hear was the humming of the ship. And then he turned, his cape spinning behind him, and made his way to the door.

Your husband- you would marry him again, if you could. He was the love of your life, and that was never going to change.

Your wedding, the most beautiful day of your life. Padme’s villa on Naboo, a gorgeous lakeside view, a beautiful ceremony, even if the both of you were still tainted with your padawan hairstyles. But then, later that night, sitting around a fire with a song you would go on to sing together every night you had to yourselves amidst the war. A song you’d develop a dance to, a song you could still hear in his voice, if you listened hard enough.

As Vader approached the door and began punching in a code, you turned your head to the side, closing your eyes.

“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas,” you began, whispering it under your voice, barely even melodic. You hadn’t intended for Vader to even hear you.

“With ne’er a fear of drowning, and gladly ride the waves of life, if you would marry me.” You glanced back up, seeing Vader frozen at the door. When you didn’t continue, he turned his head back toward you with the slowest movement.

“No scorching sun, nor freezing cold, will stop me on my journey...” Your nerves got the best of you and you trailed away, no longer having the bravery to continue, the strength. You couldn’t cry in front of Darth Vader.

“...if you will promise me your heart...” came that rasping voice, and you snapped your head up. A shuddering breath escaped the vocoder of his helmet as he lifted his hands to its sides, lifting it from his head.

He turned his gaze to you, and your heart pounded harder with every feature you recognized. His face was scarred over from burns, his neck crossed on each side of his throat with thin surgery scars. His eyes were yellow and red, but that much was expected from Darth Vader. His hairline was mottled with scars where the scalp hadn’t healed enough to grow hair, and the rest was unkept, but still it was a familiar gold.

“And love me for eternity...”

Your eyes widened and your hands lifted up, reaching forward to his face, tears already welling in your eyes. Anakin, Anakin was alive, he’s right here. Your husband is alive. You cupped his face, rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones. His voice was different, rougher, deeper, but still you heard him. His eyes closed slowly, his face lowering into your palms.

“My dearest one, my darling dear, your mighty words astound me...” You took a deep breath to steady your voice, overwhelmed with relief, emotion, surprise. “But I've no need for mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me.”

Anakin’s eyes opened, and they were blue, that blue you hadn’t seen in so long, that blue you adored. A low smile pulled at his lips, one you never thought you’d see again, and he took his arms around your waist. There was a laugh to his voice as he sang.

“But I would bring you rings of gold, I'd even sing you poetry-“ You took slow steps, the cell smaller than your usual dance space, but you made do. His hands spread along your lower back, yours on his shoulders.

“And I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside me!”

You pulled away, taking his hand, stepping into the familiar pattern. He didn’t step as nimbly as he did when you’d last seen him, but still he tried.

“I have no use for rings of gold,” you sang, falling into the familiar patterns, his smile, the way he looked at you, “I care not for your poetry, I only want your hand to hold-“ Finally his smile brightened to what you remembered, and you took his leather-covered hand between both of yours as you sang your last line, your voice no longer timid, now loud and happy.

“I only want you near me.”

You joined his voice, finally twirling in the circles you never thought you’d have again, holding the man you thought you’d lost.

“To love and kiss, to sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming-“ His leather glove, after all this time, hadn’t changed. Did he wear the same one?

“Through all life's sorrows and delights, I'll keep your laugh inside me.” His voice wasn’t exactly the way it’d been when you’d seen him last, but still, it blended perfectly with yours. Six years... it had been six years.

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning,” You took a spin, like walking on air. He stepped around you, never letting go of your hand.

“I'd gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me!” With the last word, he lifted you up by the waist, pulling you against his body, your knees only just on either side of his hips. Mostly, he held you up on his own, your forehead pressed to his. You’d missed that smile so much.

Your husband is alive. Anakin Skywalker is alive. You couldn’t help your breathy laugh as you settled your weight against his chest, cupping his cheeks.

“Oh, Anakin...” you breathed, closing your eyes, and for one blissful moment, all was perfect.

He dropped you.

You looked up, startled, into yellow eyes. His expression was blank, his glaze flitting over you. He turned with a whip of the cape that forced you to step back, and before you could say a word, he clipped the helmet back over his head.

He only gave you one more look before he disappeared out the door, shutting it behind him.

And now the cell felt so much colder.

-🦌 Roe

#anakin x reader insert #anakin x jedi reader #anakin skywalker x jedi reader #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #darth vader #suitless vader #vader x reader #vader reader insert #gn reader

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bamf-jaskier · 3 years

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Who the Fuck is Eskel?

If you have ever gone on The Witcher tag on Tumblr, I’m sure you’ve seen dozens of blogs dedicated to this guy named Eskel and for people who have just seen the show you might be wondering - who the fuck is this guy?

Hi, I’m Aaliyah, and this is Part 5 of my WTF Series - a crash course in subjects from The Witcher Books.

Post under the cut

Let’s jump in by talking about what books Eskel is in. He’s only mentioned in one line in The Last Wish, The Tower of Swallows and The Time of Contempt. He has a flashback scene in Lady of the Lake and the only book where he plays a heavy role in is Blood of Elves.

For all you Eskel Stans out there, this is good news, because it looks like S2 of the show is going to be taking some cues from Blood of Elves and we do know Eskel is going to be appearing so these scenes might be showing up in some form or another in the show.

We first meet Eskel in Blood of Elves when Geralt is first bringing Ciri to the keep:

“Who comes?” Ciri heard a menacing, metallic voice which sounded like a dog’s bark. “Geralt?”

“Yes, Eskel. It’s me.”

“Come in.”

The witcher dismounted, took Ciri from the saddle, stood her on the ground and pressed a bundle into her little hands which she grabbed tightly, only regretting that it was too small for her to hide behind completely.

“Wait here with Eskel,” he said. “I’ll take Roach to the stables.”

“Come into the light, laddie,” growled the man called Eskel. “Don’t lurk in the dark.”

Ciri looked up into his face and barely restrained her frightened scream. He wasn’t human. Although he stood on two legs, although he smelled of sweat and smoke, although he wore ordinary human clothes, he was not human. No human can have a face like that, she thought.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” repeated Eskel.

She didn’t move. In the darkness she heard the clatter of Roach’s horseshoes grow fainter. Something soft and squeaking ran over her foot. She jumped. “Don’t loiter in the dark, or the rats will eat your boots.”

Still clinging to her bundle Ciri moved briskly towards the light. The rats bolted out from beneath her feet with a squeak. Eskel leaned over, took the package from her and pulled back her hood.

“A plague on it,” he muttered. “A girl. That’s all we need.”

She glanced at him, frightened. Eskel was smiling. She saw that he was human after all, that he had an entirely human face, deformed by a long, ugly, semi-circular scar running from the corner of his mouth across the length of his cheek up to the ear.

“Since you’re here, welcome to Kaer Morhen,” he said. “What do they call you?”

“Ciri,” Geralt replied for her, silently emerging from the darkness. Eskel turned around. Suddenly, quickly, wordlessly, the witchers fell into each other’s arms and wound their shoulders around each other tight and hard. For one brief moment.

“Wolf, you’re alive.”

“I am.”

“All right.” Eskel took a torch from its bracket. “Come on. I’m closing the inner gates to stop the heat escaping.”

Couple things here. First, for all the game fans out there, Eskel’s scar in the books is VERY different. It’s not the lightening-like claw marks that go over his eye but instead it goes from the corner of his mouth to his ear. This is interesting because it really parallels in my mind Ciri’s scar she gets later on that extends from under her eye to her ear.

Also, the little reunion between Geralt and Eskel, so sweet. The line about Eskel in Last Wish establishes that they were close friends so here is the snippet just to give more backstory to the two of them:

“Once, years ago, when a little snot-faced brat following his studies in Kaer Morhen, the Witchers’ Settlement, he and a friend, Eskel, had captured a huge forest bumblebee and tied it to a jug with a thread. They were in fits of laughter watching the antics of the tied bumblebee, until Vesemir, their tutor, caught them at it and tanned their hides with a leather strap.”

Childhood friends and brothers is just so damn great. Actually, speaking of brothers, it is stated in Blood of Elves that Geralt and Eskel actually look very similar and are often mistaken for brothers such as in this scene from Triss’s POV.

Eskel stood next to Geralt, resembling the Wolf like a brother apart from the colour of his hair and the long scar which disfigured his cheek. And the youngest of the Kaer Morhen witchers, Lambert, was there with his usual ugly, mocking expression. Vesemir was not there.

“Welcome and come in,” said Eskel. “It is as cold and blustery as if someone has hung themselves. Ciri, where are you off to? The invitation does not apply to you. The sun is still high, even if it is obscured. You can still train.”

“Hey.” The Enchantress tossed her hair. “Politeness comes cheap in Witchers’ Keep now, I see. Ciri was the first to greet me, and brought me to the castle. She ought to keep me company—”

This really interests me because Ciri is very young child when she meets Eskel and she is very terrified of him and intimidated. Which makes sense, she is very traumatized. But, when Triss meets Eskel she only makes a short note of his scar and focuses more on his resemblance to Geralt and commenting on the lack of politeness. It just goes to show how different characters perceive people differently. A child’s perspective of a warrior is not going to be the same as a Mage’s.

“You didn’t even know.” She nodded in what was now a calm, concerned and gentle reproach. “You’re pathetic guardians. She’s ashamed to tell you because she was taught not to mention such complaints to men. And she’s ashamed of the weakness, the pain and the fact that she is less fit. Has any one of you thought about that? Taken any interest in it? Or tried to guess what might be the matter with her? Maybe her very first bleed happened here, in Kaer Morhen? And she cried to herself at night, unable to find any sympathy, consolation or even understanding from anyone? Has any one of you given it any thought whatsoever?”

“Stop it, Triss,” moaned Geralt quietly. “That’s enough. You’ve achieved what you wanted. And maybe even more.”

“The devil take it,” cursed Coën. “We’ve turned out to be right idiots, there’s no two ways about it, eh, Vesemir, and you—”

“Silence,” growled the old witcher. “Not a word.”

It was Eskel’s behaviour which was most unlikely; he got up, approached the enchantress, bent down low, took her hand and kissed it respectfully. She swiftly withdrew her hand. Not so as to demonstrate her anger and annoyance but to break the pleasant, piercing vibration triggered by the witcher’s touch. Eskel emanated powerfully. More powerfully than Geralt.

“Triss,” he said, rubbing the hideous scar on his cheek with embarrassment, “help us. We ask you. Help us, Triss.”

Now, if you can’t tell, Triss’ favorite is Eskel. This scene is also implies that Eskel is more magically powerful than Geralt which Is very interesting. But Triss is an Eskel stan, in fact a couple lines later Triss thinks to herself:

Vesemir hawked again. But Eskel, dear Eskel, kept his head and once more behaved as was fitting.

“Of course,” he said casually, smiling. “We understand and clearly we will postpone your exercises until your indisposition has passed. We will also cut the theory short and, if you feel unwell, we will put it aside for the time being, too. If you need any medication or—”

Eskel definitely has the older sibling energy where he ends up in charge sometimes and knows how to keep a cool head. He’s also the most aware of societal norms of behavior which is why Triss likes his so much. She really respects people who know how to move in society.

There’s also this scene in Blood of Elves where Eskel is drinking and offers Triss some:

“White Seagull.”

“What?”

“A mild remedy,” Eskel smiled, “for pleasant dreams.”

“Damn it! A witcher hallucinogenic? That’s why your eyes shine like that in the evenings!”

“White Seagull is very gentle. It’s Black Seagull that is hallucinogenic.”

“If there’s magic in this liquid I’m not allowed to take it!”

“Exclusively natural ingredients,” Geralt reassured her but he looked, she noticed, disconcerted. He was clearly afraid she would question them about the elixir’s ingredients. “And diluted with a great deal of water. We would not offer you anything that could harm you.”

I think it’s very funny how secret The Witcher keeps all their potions and elixirs. Whether it’s mushrooms or potions, they gotta keep those secret drugs locked down tight. Also the fact that Eskel is the fantasy equivalent of high every night? Love that for him.

Eskel really is the peace-maker of the group. He’s not a push-over by any means but he is definitely more willing to play along that any of the others. When Triss is talking at night, Eskel is really the only one listening and engaging, even if it’s very half-hearted.

In the evenings, consistently and determinedly, Triss guided the long conversations held in the dark hall, lit only by the bursts of flames in the great hearth, towards politics. The witchers’ reactions were always the same. Geralt, a hand on his forehead, did not say a word.

Vesemir nodded, from time to time throwing in comments which amounted to little more than that “in his day” everything had been better, more logical, more honest and healthier.

Eskel pretended to be polite, and neither smiled nor made eye contact, and even managed, very occasionally, to be interested in some issue or question of little importance. Coën yawned openly and looked at the ceiling, and Lambert did nothing to hide his disdain.

And he is really the only sort-of listener to Triss’ stories and retellings of events:

This time it was Triss who began to yawn and stare at the ceiling. This time she was the one who remained silent – until Eskel turned to her with a question. A question which she had anticipated.

“And what is it really like in the south, on the Yaruga? Is it worth going there? We wouldn’t like to find ourselves in the middle of any trouble.”

“What do you mean by trouble?”

“Well, you know…” he stammered, “you keep telling us about the possibility of a new war… About constant fighting on the borders, about rebellions in the lands invaded by Nilfgaard. You said they’re saying the Nilfgaardians might cross the Yaruga again—”

“So what?” said Lambert. “They’ve been hitting, killing and striking against each other constantly for hundreds of years. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve already decided – I’m going to the far South, to Sodden, Mahakam and Angren. It’s well known that monsters abound wherever armies have passed. The most money is always made in places like that.”

“True,” Coën acknowledged. “The neighbourhood grows deserted, only women who can’t fend for themselves remain in the villages… scores of children with no home or care, roaming around… Easy prey attracts monsters.”

“And the lord barons and village elders,” added Eskel, “have their heads full of the war and don’t have the time to defend their subjects. They have to hire us. It’s true. But from what Triss has been telling us all these evenings, it seems the conflict with Nilfgaard is more serious than that, not just some local little war. Is that right, Triss?”

Once more, Eskel is the peace-maker of the conversation and he brings it back around to what Triss originally said and also points to her expertise. Basically, Eskel is not really a fan of verbal conflict.

This is actually the last line we see Eskel in a scene outside of the flashback in Lady of the Lake. After this, Triss, Geralt and Ciri head off. It is important to note that near the end of Blood of Elves Ciri says this about Yennefer:

The lady magician knew a surprising amount about a witcher’s sword and “dance.” She knew a great deal about the secrets of Kaer Morhen; there was no doubt she had visited the Keep. She knew Vesemir and Eskel. Although not Lambert and Coën.

Yennefer used to visit Kaer Morhen. Ciri guessed why – when they spoke of the Keep – the eyes of the enchantress grew warm, lost their angry gleam and their cold, indifferent, wise depth. If the words had befitted Yennefer’s person, Ciri would have called her dreamy, lost in memories.

So clearly Yennefer is also friendly with Eskel and knows him. I love the idea that Yennefer regularly visited Kaer Morhen before Ciri came into Geralt’s care and I would literally cry if they did a flashback sequence in S2 of Yennefer visiting Geralt in Kaer Morhen.

The flashback sequence in Lady of the Lake with Eskel goes like this:

The fire in the huge fireplace went out. A gust of wind from the mountains whistled through the crevices of the walls and screamed through the improperly closed shutters of Kaer Morhen, Home of the Witchers.

“Damn it!” Eskel said, standing up and going to the cupboard. “Seagull or vodka?”

“Vodka,” Geralt and Coen said with one voice.

“Sure,” interjected Vesemir, hidden in the shadows, “Yes, of course! Drown your stupidity in vodka. Damn fools!”

“It was an accident…” muttered Lambert. “She had already mastered the comb…”

“Shut your big mouth, you idiot! I don’t want to hear any more! I warned you, if something happened to that little girl…”

“Enough,” Coen interrupted him, softly. “She sleeps peacefully. Deep and healthy. She will wake up a bit sore, but that’s it. About the trance, and what happened, she will not even remember it.”

“As long as you remember,” said Vesemir, panting angrily. “Cabbage heads! Pour for me too, Eskel.”

They were silent for a long time, listening intently to the howling gale.

“We will need to call someone,” Eskel finally said. “We will need to bring a sorcerer here. What is happening to the girl, it is not normal.”

Eskel is one of The Witcher who really pushes to call Triss in order to help with Ciri’s trances. Also, once again this guy is hitting the drinks.

So yeah! That’s Eskel in the books. Based on how in the non-canon wedding short Asaps wrote where he ended up having Triss and Eskel get together, I think his hints of them having a connection in the books is very intentional and if The Witcher wasn’t such a god damn tragedy and Triss wasn’t mooning over Geralt, I’m willing to bet they would have gotten together at some point.

Eskel is the peace-maker of the family and is the best at recognizing the norms of “polite society” (or at least noble society) and while Ciri might have been scared of his appearance, it isn’t enough to phase Triss who is considered rather vain. In fact, she seems to respect Eskel the most out of the Witchers. Just imagine a dark-haired, scarred Geralt and BOOM, you got yourself an Eskel.

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shepard-ram · 3 years

Note

💐 (1/4) should i be working on the yandere Tommy fic i promised like forever ago? absolutely. did i write headcanons for the yandere kids instead? also absolutely.

- it starts with Tubbo in Manberg. he’s lonely and constantly afraid, and you’re so kind to him, it’s only natural that he gets attached!

- he doesn’t show many yandere traits at first, if only because he’s busy juggling his duties in the cabinet and his duties as a spy. when he has time, though, he’s by your side, soaking in the warmth your presence brings.

- after the festival, he brings you to Pogtopia, making sure to keep you by his side almost constantly.

- when he’s made president, Tubbo gives you a position in his cabinet. it’s not entirely clear what your job is, other than following him around all day, but he insists that it’s an incredibly important position that only you can fill.

- that doesn’t mean you get much of a say in actual politics, though. if he thinks something is too upsetting for you (Tommy’s exile, the Butcher Army, etc.), you’re prohibited from interfering. it’s frustrating, but his heart’s in the right place, isn’t it?

- for Tommy, his feelings about you change in exile. you visit him almost every day, bringing little gifts to boost his spirits, and he’s so, so desperate for company.

- you notice that he seems clingier than you’d known him to be, but you chalk it up to loneliness. not many people visit, of course he’d be hanging off of you every chance he gets, right?

- when he leaves to Techno’s cabin, you start to drift towards Ranboo. you’re so understanding about his memory issues, gently reminding him about things he forgot, it’s almost too easy for him to fall for you. a few conversations later, he’s gushing in his memory book about how wonderful and understanding and perfect you are. “my soulmate”, he calls you.

- everything starts to escalate after Doomsday and the final disc war. Tommy offers you a room in his hotel, free of charge except for one condition: you stay with him and nobody else, ever. Tubbo tries to bring you to Snowchester, promising safety and comfort and anything you could ever want.

- at least Ranboo hasn’t been possessed by whatever’s making Tommy and Tubbo act so strange!

- one night, overwhelmed and stressed out over how scary your friends have become, you go to Ranboo for comfort, crying your heart out. “you don’t... want to go with either of them, right?” he asks, tail thumping as you tearfully shake your head.

- “i knew it. i knew it! you love me best, don’t you?” you hardly have a chance to reply before he’s wrapping his arms around you, rambling about how the two of you are meant to be, how he’ll make you happy if you choose him.

- there’s nobody you can trust, is there? not any 0of the adults standing by and watching, not Tommy, not Tubbo, not even Ranboo.

- now, you might barely know anything about Purpled, but he sure knows a lot about you. how could he not, when you have three people obsessing over your every move? he can see why they’re so captivated

- there’s something endearing about watching you fumble through the war-scarred SMP.

- when you approach him, inventory full of what little valuables you have, and ask for his protection with teary eyes, he figures that he can get something out of it, either from you or the other kids.

- the two of you come up with a deal: Purpled would guard you for a week for whatever payment he decides on by the end of it, and if you were still being stalked, you would continue to pay him. you’re a bit worried

- money isn’t exactly a thing you have a lot of- but he assures you that you’ll have what he wants.

- for the first time in months, you’re able to relax. he’s such a dedicated guard, hiding you behind him whenever one of the other kids comes too close, watching the windows and doors whenever you’re home, even staying up all night to make sure nobody comes in!

- you don’t know about the glares he sends the others when he pulls you close. you don’t know that he spends most nights staring at you while you sleep. he isn’t sure what his goal is at this point: is he trying to goad the others into hiring him to give you up, or is he trying to keep you to himself?

- he finds his answer at the end of the week. despite Purpled’s best efforts, you’re still being stalked, and you only have so much to give. much to your surprise, he declines your gold and diamonds, asking for only a kiss on the cheek as payment.

- weird, but who are you to complain? you’re safe, you’re still free, and you finally have somebody you can trust. it’s a low price to pay for peace of mind.

- and then he suggests moving into his base, so that you can put some distance between yourself and the others. you decline, of course. Purpled’s already doing so much for you, asking only for physical affection in return, and you don’t want to be a burden!

- he seems to accept your answer, so you go to bed without another thought. when you wake up, it’s in an unfamiliar room. Purpled shows up eventually to calm you down, telling you that you’re safe now, that nobody will ever bother you again.

- unlike your other admirers, he tries to “re-educate” you through reward and punishment. simple enough - when you behave well, accept his affection, he’s as sweet as can be. but try to escape, or even just insinuate that you want to leave? well, he doesn’t want to hurt you... but if it keeps you from falling into the hands of anyone else, then it’s just a necessary evil, isn’t it?

- you’ve never been so glad to see Tommy and Tubbo once they find you.

Bro I was NOT prepared for this at 4:30 am scahscs my god this is perfect- Tubbo trying to subtlety keep you by his side?? Tommy just clinging to you during exile?? Ranboo just so delusionaly happy when you reject them and come to him?? Purpled slowly going down that same path from being at your side 24/7?? And his education making you so willing to go with the others again how can you kill me like this I will not have another thought for a long time

#ask #💐 anon #tw. yandere #c: tommy #c: tubbo #c: ranboo #c: purpled

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sapphosclown · 3 years

Text

Kiss Him You Fool - Willex Oneshot

aka willie and flynn are best friends and she’s done with this mutual pining bullshit. (boys are alive bc i didn’t feel like thinking about ghost logistics today lmao)

so i didn’t get to participate in willex week nearly as much as i wanted to so this is my song fic/au fic (i guess? since the guys are alive? idk) for free day since i didn’t get the idea till last night at 1am. anyways i also didn’t sign up for the gift exchange but i still wanna dedicate this fic to @fairygclds for hosting this week bc she did an amazing job and i love her v much, ty mari <3

title is from Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly, cute song highly recommend

rbs and comments appreciated :)

———

That was real right? He didn’t make that up in his head? That happened. Right?

Willie was abruptly knocked out of their thoughts as his board hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending him onto the pavement, scraping his knee. Although, the stinging did help them snap out of the daze he was in, making him realize that yes, this is real life, and yes, he and Alex Mercer almost kissed.

***

“Stop, you’re not allowed to be that good at everything.” Willie teased as Alex just barely completed a loop around him.

“I feel like we are experiencing different timelines here or something.” Alex let out a shaky laugh as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain the balance he’d just lost. Luckily, Willie held out their arm for him to grab just in time.

“Come on, you’re doing great! Just need to have a little more faith in yourself.” Willie smiled gently, offering extra support with his free hand.

Alex scoffed. “I think I’m a roller skating kind of guy.”

“Well, I disagree but if that’s how you feel—”

Alex rolled his eyes, making Willies stomach flutter. He helped him off the skateboard and they sat down on the couch in the studio. Willie ignored the fact that despite having the entire couch to themselves, they sat right up against each other, and he especially ignored the way their knees touching made his heart beat faster than normal.

“Actually, I think solid ground is where it’s at.” Alex said, only half-joking.

“I guess, but the wheels add some spice that solid ground could never live up to.”

“Exactly. You know exactly what you’re getting with solid ground. Me and wheels have a complicated relationship.”

“Oh really? You guys have a falling out?” Willie teased.

“Ha, yeah. There was some falling.” Alex gave a sarcastic laugh.

“But that’s the fun part! You can get some pretty rad scars from skating.” Willie pointed out.

“‘Rad?’ What, are you from the 80’s?”

“Listen—” Willie shushed him, shoving his shoulder into him playfully.

They laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. Willie was really tempted to lay his head onto Alex’s shoulder, or hold his hand.

His hand was right there. It would be so easy... But instead he grabbed their own hand and started messing with their fingers.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He asked lamely.

“We’re rehearsing for our gig tomorrow night. Luke and Julie are going over the set list one last time right now but we should be starting pretty soon.” Alex replied, checking the time on his phone before looking back at Willie. “Actually, if you wanna hangout while we rehearse, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds great!” Willie smiled.

“Cool.” Alex nodded, and maybe he was seeing things, but Willie could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning pink. That made him giggle.

“So, what’s the set list then?” They asked curiously. He shifted his body so that he could look at Alex, only mildly upset about the loss of contact, but being able to see the faded pink in Alex’s cheeks made up for it.

“Well, usually we start with Edge of Great, but Julie and Luke wrote this new song that is perfect to open with and I just know everyone’s gonna love it—”

Willie stared at Alex as he rambled on about the show and they couldn’t help the soft smile on their lips. Alex noticed almost immediately and stopped talking, almost embarrassed.

“What?” He asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” Willie said, waving his hand for them to move past it.

“No, I feel like you’re judging me!” Alex giggled.

“No! I’m not judging you!” Willie reassured. “You’re just really cute when you talk about music.” He said softly.

Alex went bright red. “Oh.” He replied in the same tone.

The air around them went quiet again, but this time filled with a different feeling. The feeling that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. And suddenly their faces were a lot closer than Willie had realized. His eyes flicked down to Alex’s lips subconsciously and then back to his eyes, which he found were doing the same thing. There was nothing stopping him, all he had to do was lean in just a little bit more...

“WHO’S READY TO MAKE SOME MUSIC!” Reggie called excitedly as he entered the garage, making Willie and Alex jump apart. Reggie eyed them suspiciously. “Oh, hey Willie.” He said, eyebrows pulled together like he was piecing together what just happened.

“Hey.” Willie breathed uncomfortably. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

“Are you gonna hangout for rehearsal?” Reggie asked.

“Actually, uh, I gotta get going.” Willie sputtered before his brain could catch up to his mouth. They stood up and grabbed their things messily.

“I thought you said—”

“I just remembered I have to do something.” Willie cut Alex off. “I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alex said quietly, failing at hiding his disappointment and making Willies chest ache.

“Cool.” Willie said. “See ya.” He threw an awkward peace sign at Reggie (who gave him one back) and skated out of the garage as fast as he possibly could.

***

“You are a disaster.” Flynn scolded, grabbing a dinosaur band-aid out of her desk drawer.

“I know!” Willie yelled into her pillow. She plopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him! You had the opportunity and he clearly wanted to kiss you too!” She yelled.

“I don’t know!” Willie whined, throwing the pillow back down into his lap. “I wanted to but I froze! And then Reggie showed up and I couldn’t stay after that! What if he didn’t want that to happen, what if he hates me now!”

“He doesn’t hate you! He’s very clearly in love with you, I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.” She peeled the paper off the band-aid and carefully stuck it to Willies knee.

“You don’t know that.” He huffed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? He likes you. When have I ever been wrong?”

They hated to admit it, but there have been very few times Flynn has been wrong.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back there? Ask him on a date or kiss him or just literally do anything.”

“I can’t go back! He’s rehearsing! I don’t wanna barge in while they’re rehearsing. And I left so fast it’d be so awkward—”

“Stop making excuses!” Flynn shook their shoulders, as they pouted. “Call him and say you forgot something.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” He said plainly. Flynn shot him a look.

“Duh! I know that, but if you tell him you’re coming back to get something then you can’t chicken out.” She explained, exasperated.

“Oh! Well what should I say I forgot?”

“Your phone, that's a reasonable thing you’d need to get back.”

“Okay. Okokok.” Willie mumbled to themself pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Flynn snatched it from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him like you said!”

“Use my phone dummy! If you call him from your phone he’ll know you didn’t leave it there!” She opened her phone and before Willie realized what was happening, the phone was ringing on speaker.

“Hello?” Alex’s voice cracked through the phone.

Flynn looked at Willie and then back to the phone when he just sat there mouth agape.

“Um, hi. It’s Willie, not Flynn, I, um, left my phone in the studio and I’m on my way back to grab it.” They stuttered, hitting his head at his awkwardness.

“Oh alright. See you soon, then.”

“Yup. See ya.” Willie threw his head in his hands, their face turning bright red. Flynn ended the call and leaned against her wall with their arms crossed.

“You really are a disaster huh.” She teased.

Willie threw his pillow at them playfully and jumped off the bed. “I hate you.” He laughed.

“Love you too.” She grinned slyly. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he’s cool and you wanna kiss him!”

Willie groaned as he grabbed his things as Flynn shooed him out of her room.

***

“He’s coming back.” Alex said quickly. His friends shared the same look as they all “ooooooo”d at him.

“Guys stop! What do I do!” He cried.

“Man calm down, it’s alright.” Reggie consoled him.

“Why’re they coming back?” Julie asked turning her keyboard off so she can lean on the keys.

“Said they forgot their phone.” Alex replied.

“Mhm, right. Sure he did.” Luke teased. If he were closer Alex would’ve shoved him but he felt like he was glued to his seat.

“What do I do?” Alex asked again.

“I mean, we can keep rehearsing till he gets here if that’ll take your mind off of it?” Julie suggested.

God bless Julie. Alex nodded.

“I don’t know, it seems like he and Willie have some unfinished business.” Reggie winked.

“No! Nothing was happening! Nothing happened, it’s nothing. He just needs his phone back.” Alex tried to ignore his friends snickering but his mind flashed back to Willie on the couch in front of him. He really thought Willie had wanted to kiss him, but if how he left says anything, Alex must’ve misread the situation. They probably hated him.

“Dude, I can practically hear your thoughts and I promise you, he likes you.” Reggie assured him.

“You can’t know that for sure.” Alex mumbled, watching his drumstick twirl through his fingers.

“Maybe not but, we’ve all noticed how they look at you.” Luke cut in.

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Julie said sweetly.

“I just... I care about them a lot and what if you’re wrong and that’s just how he acts with his friends—”

“No, dude, we’re not letting you talk yourself out of this one.” Luke laughed.

“Seriously, Alex, you should go for it!” Reggie said encouragingly, walking around his drums to clap his shoulder.

Alex thought about it, he really did. He really thought for a second that he could do it, he could just lean forward and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But he over thought it, as usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just wait for someday! You gotta go after what you want!” Luke exclaimed. Julie nodded.

Alex smiled at his friends. He appreciated their support but he couldn’t help but be afraid. Deep down, he knew they were right. He knew if Reggie had been just a minute later... But he still didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. Because there’s always that what if that won’t leave him alone.

There was a gentle knock on the garage doors as Willie stepped into view, he was hugging his arms and had a soft smile on his face. They carefully waved at everyone before he made eye contact with Alex, and suddenly it felt just like they were on the couch again. Just the two of them.

You know what. Maybe it’s time for someday.

Alex stood up from his drums and walked over to Willie, trying to act nonchalant. He heard Julie clear her throat to get the other two to stop staring at them and at least pretend to do something else.

“Hey.” Alex breathed.

“Hey.” Willie replied. “Can I actually see you, out here?” He asked shyly, nodding his head out side.

Alex nodded and followed Willie out of view of his band mates.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve looked for your phone before you got here but—” before Alex could finish his sentence Willie had cupped Alex’s face and pulled him into a kiss.

Alex felt like his heart had just exploded and he wasn’t completely sure if he was real anymore, but then he felt his hand rest on Willies cheek and he could confirm that yes, this was happening.

It didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Willie pulled away again. Their eyes searched Alex’s face for any sign of his emotion but Alex had completely stopped functioning and didn’t quite know what to do until he felt Willies grip on his face loosen.

“I’m sorry—” He tried to retract his hands but Alex held them in place, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Willie’s worry fade and Alex pulled him back into a kiss. This one much softer, less rushed. No longer a question, but an answer.

They pulled apart and Alex noticed Willie shrinking down a bit and smiled to himself.

“Do you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss me?” He asked cheekily.

Willie raised his eyebrows. “That’s the question you have right now?”

Alex nodded, his smile unmoving.

“I’m glad you have your priorities set.” Willie laughed.

“Definitely.” Alex whispered. “Priority number one, make you stand on your tiptoes to kiss me again.”

“You’re mean.” Willie pouted. Alex laughed and Willie gave him a playful shove before Alex pulled him back onto his tiptoes.

“It’s about time.” Reggie whispered as he Luke and Julie peeked around the door and watched their friend.

“Luke,” He stood up straight and held out his hand.

Luke groaned and fished for his wallet in his pockets, handing him a $20 bill.

“Thank you.” Reggie said smugly, pocketing the cash.

Julie laughed and shook her head at her friends and they all made their way back to their respective instruments. Julie pulled out her phone.

Flynn: did he do it??

Julie: yup. reggie’s $20 richer

Flynn: about time!! took those fools long enough, geez

Julie: really tho

Alex walked back into the studio a blushing smiley mess and sat at his drums again, not saying a word despite his friends staring at him expectantly.

He scanned their faces from his seat behind his drums.

“From the top?”

———

a/n: let it be known that reggie used that $20 to buy a fish and he named it Gil and he is the best fish dad ever

#idk if the description is accurate like it is but i also don’t know what’s going on i wrote this in one day #hope you enjoyed anyways lol #i love them #and this song is them idc #willex week #willex #willie jatp #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #jatp #willex oneshot #willex fic #netflixwewantjatp2 #renew julie and the phantoms

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fullbushfemme · 3 years

Text

Meeting the Mayans

word count: 1,804

summary: You thought you were prepared for anything. Growing up with four brothers, you had been bitten, beaten, thrown out of trees, concussed, stabbed, practically any violent act you could possibly think of, you had endured. For a kindergarten teacher, you were tough. You had the scars to prove it. That was, of course, until the day you met the Mayans.

unnamed mayan x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, hostage situation, and a shooting.

author's note: I've had this idea in my head for ages now and I'm tempted to make it a series. The only issue is that I can't decide which Mayan I want to star (since they aren't named in this fic). I'm tempted to use this as a jumping off point for multiple fics, writing different stories from this initial incident involving different Mayans, but I'd love to hear any thoughts y'all might have :)

-I also haven't written anything outside of academic works in years so go easy on me <3

Santo Padre Septembers were always your favorite. It was sticky and hot, enough to make anyone want to jump into a pool fully clothed, but school was back in session, which meant you got to meet a new hoard of bright-eyed, eager five year olds. You had spent the last month preparing your classroom for their arrival. Nine am to one pm every day for four weeks was dedicated to decorating your classroom, making name cards, making sure every student had all the supplies they needed. Inside every desk you placed glue and markers and pencils and workbooks and scissors...everything a little kid would need to express themselves. And all of it out of your own pocket. You took it upon yourself to spoil these kids rotten.

Two weeks into class, you already knew everyone’s names, their favorite color, their pets, and whether or not they were allowed to watch TV after six o’clock. You knew who was friends with who, who couldn’t eat peanut butter, and who was most popular. This year’s class was going to be great, you just knew it.

It was a humid Friday afternoon. The room smelled like Elmer’s glue and pencil shavings, with stray scraps of construction paper strewn about the floor after the kids decided this week’s art project was going to be making dinosaurs out of construction paper and glitter. You were staying after class to clean up and vacuum, and to take the class rabbit home with you since no one had signed up to care for him this week, when you heard a knock at your door.

You looked over to the open door, squinting into the sun, trying to make out who it was. But no one was standing in the doorway. “Forget something?” you called out, thinking that a student must’ve left a lunch box or notebook and was feeling shy.

“Not exactly,” a deep voice responded, sending a twinge of fear through your body. You knew that voice. “I was hoping my baby sister could help me with something.”

A lump had formed in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no avail. “What are you doing here?” you choked out, standing from where you were picking up paper scraps.

“I need you to help me hide. Quickly.” Your older brother stepped into the classroom, gun in hand, pupils wider than you had ever seen them. He must’ve been high, you thought, panicked. What had he gotten into now? All four of your brothers were known to be trouble-makers to varying degrees. A few had been to prison for petty crimes, but the brother that stood before you had gotten wrapped up in drug trafficking years ago. He scared you the most. They had all promised your parents that they would keep their lives separate from yours, that they would never put you in harm's way. But it didn’t last. It felt like every other week you had a bruised or beaten brother on your doorstep, begging for help or a place to stay. And today, it was to ask you to hide them.

Your eyes flitted to the large windows overlooking the grassy courtyard where a few children sat waiting for their parents to pick them up. Hide. Hide from what? Who was coming after him? Would they hurt the kids?

“N-no,” you stammered, taking a step backwards. You couldn’t risk putting any kids still on campus in danger. “You can’t hide here. You have to go. You have to go right now.” You could feel a pit in your stomach begin to form as your brother took slow, long strides toward you.

“No?” he spat, completely dumbfounded by your refusal to help him. You had never turned him down before. He was family. You never said no to family.

You swallowed hard before repeating yourself. “No,” you responded, with more conviction this time, although you knew he could see right through you.

You took another step back, but ran up against your desk. Your phone was in the top drawer. Could you reach it fast enough? If you even could, who would you call? The police? That was a good way to get murdered and leave a teacher-shaped stain on the floor for the kids to come back to on Monday. Gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turned white, your brother broke the ominous silence before you could.

“I’m not asking you again, hun,” he spat, now so close you could smell him.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your eyes welling up. “The kids…”

He furrowed his brow for a moment, shocked at the idea that you could actually turn your own flesh and blood away. You had always helped him, no matter how many times your parents told you not to, no matter how many times your life was put in danger. He couldn’t grasp the idea that you would put your foot down when it came to endangering other people, when it came to endangering your kids.

“They’ll kill you, you know,” he seethed, looking back over his shoulder towards the open door. There was a low rumbling growing louder and louder, but that wasn’t to whom he was referring. He was talking about your other brothers. “I told them I’d go to my baby sister, that she’d help me. She always helps me. Why would she flip on me now? Why wouldn’t she help family?” His grip tightened around his handgun as he leaned in to threaten you. “If anything happens to me, they’ll know to come to you first. They’ll know you couldn’t protect your own family.” His breath was hot against your neck. “Now,” he sighed, “Help me hide. And tell them you haven’t seen me in months.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” a man shouted from outside, causing your brother to grab hold of your arm. Those tears you had been holding back finally fell down your cheeks as your brother pulled you in front of him, placing you between the stranger and your brother. You could barely make out any details of the man from outside because of the blinding sun, but you could tell he had a gun. And that gun was much bigger than your brother’s. As the man moved into your classroom, at least five more men appeared and followed him in, all with guns pointed at your brother.

At this point, you were frozen. The lives your parents had so desperately tried to keep apart were crashing together, their worst nightmare coming true. The two of you were stuck, with only one way out. And he knew it. He gripped your arm tighter, making sure your body could be used as an effective human shield. The barrel of his gun was shoved into your ribcage, his face buried into the back of your hair.

“See what you’ve done?” he seethed. You looked at all of the men placed around the room. Leather-clad men on top of a backdrop of crudely painted rainbows and dogs. You hadn’t brought these men here. You didn’t anger a group of gun-toting men. And yet somehow, this was your fault.

“We’re only here for you, kid,” a low, rough voice called out, a different one than before.

But he wouldn’t let them take only him. He was bringing you down with him. He was willing to sacrifice his own family to keep from going down alone.

The seconds ticking by felt like hours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, desperately trying to break free. But you could do nothing besides stand still. All you could do is hope and pray that these men that had followed your brother here had enough decency not to kill a kindergarten teacher caught in the crossfire. But your brother refused to give them that opportunity.

“If I go,” he yelled, raising his gun to your temple, “she goes too.”

These words would haunt your every thought for the rest of your life. But in that moment, all you could think about was the weapon pressed against your skin. Your brother wasn’t just willing to bring you down with him, he was willing to kill you himself. And the thought of it made you sick. It made you want to curl up into a ball and scream on the top of your lungs. You opened your mouth to cry out, but your brother hit you across the head with the butt of his gun before you could.

The men opposing your brother yelled, harsh words were exchanged, but all you could hear was a ringing in your ears. Tensions rose. Guns were raised. Blood dripped down your face and mixed with your tears. Your senses were betraying you, one by one, blending every sensation into one incomprehensible nightmare.

And then, a single gunshot rang out, making you acutely aware of the severity of the situation once more.

A scream escaped your chest as you fell to your knees, free from your brother’s death grip. You brought your hands up to your ears and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would all be over.

But it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t end. No matter how hard you prayed, you were still on the floor of your kindergarten classroom. Your brother was still prepared to kill you if he felt threatened. Someone was shot...someone was shot but you couldn’t bear to look. You wanted to look, you had to look, to see if it was your brother that was shot. But before you could muster the courage to open your eyes, two arms wrapped around you and pulled you into an embrace. It couldn’t have been your brother, it was much too gentle. But if it wasn’t him, then who?

It took a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you looked up to see who was holding you. His face was kind, with dark brown eyes filled with worry as he looked down at you. He opened his mouth to say something to you, and he probably did, but you couldn’t hear him over the pounding in your head. He was a stranger to you, and yet he clung to you to keep you from seeing the mess behind you. Like he truly cared for your wellbeing. He pulled you in closer to him, placing his chin on top of your head the way your father did when you were young. It felt...safe. And all you wanted to do was collapse into him and allow yourself to feel safe. You let your head fall into his chest. You let your head fall into this stranger’s chest. And just as you did, two white patches on his left breast caught your eye. Two patches that read: Mayans, Santo Padre.

#mayans mc #bishop losa #michal ariza #riz ariza #taza #taza romero #angel reyes #ez reyes #mayans mc fanfic

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lordoftermites · 3 years

Text

OF CLOVER & IRON

Part One

Pairing: Roiben x Kaye

Summary: fluff(ish), angst, obligatory smut (later). fluffish smangst, let's go with that.

My first fic for these two—and all around the first one I've ever written, period. I finally got to a point that I can confidently post parts 1 & 2 without obsessive editing so yeet haw let's fuckin go. Set the day after Ironside Ch. 13. {there's a slight deviation of the wound placements also, because I just really wanted to see Kaye lovingly take care of her Emo Black Knight™. Everything else is canon-compliant. I hope.}

Rating: M for suggestive themes, smut in future chapters

Also I was listening to Beautiful Crime by Tamer and If You Care by Evan Barlow the whole time and if those aren't the most Roiben songs I've ever fucking heard—

*buzzfeed voice* let's get into it

________________

Each step I left behind Each road you know is mine Walking on a line ten stories high Say you'll still be by my side If I could take your hand, oh If you could understand That I can barely breathe, the air is thin I fear the fall and where we'll land

"You realize I have attendants for this, don't you?"

Roiben was reclined, rather awkwardly, against the mountain of plush pillows on his bed. Their down stuffing jutted through the timeworn fabric and pricked along the sensitive skin of his bare back.

While the gash Talathain's sword had wrought the day before had since been cleaned and bandaged, the end of those feathers still managed to find their way through to jab at the still-open wound, eliciting from him a wince, as though he needed reminding of the events that had transpired had, in fact, transpired.

Ruefully, Roiben found that he did not need reminding.

"Mhmm, I know." Kaye replied absently beside him, drawing him back to the present. She was perched on the edge of the bed, inky-black gaze fixed on his hand in her lap; she was gently applying a viscous paste to the scarlet, angry line along his palm—another gift from Silarial's green knight. The mixture had a cooling element to it, not at all unpleasant against the dull burn of the wound. Kaye was careful, dedicated as she worked. Her tender, feather-light touches sent an involuntary shiver down the base of Roiben's spine.

“I admit, I do not mislike having you for a nursemaid instead of an ill-tempered hob." He grinned down at her as she finished, gently wrapping a milky-white cloth around the pad of his hand, tying it off in a small knot at the base of his wrist. He didn’t think anyone in his service would have tended to him with such attentive care; actually, they very well may have relished an opportunity to see him wince. Indeed, he much preferred this.

She glanced up at him through thick lashes and gave him a small smile of her own, but it faltered on her features, wavered there until it faded into something Roiben couldn't name. "I guess,” she began, dropping her gaze back down to his newly-dressed hand in hers. “I just wanted to do… something, for a change." Roiben's brow knitted at the sadness in her voice, the way the guilt, thoroughly misplaced, steeped her words. There was a twinge in his chest that was reminiscent of the arrow she had pulled from it not four months prior. Automatically, his hand reached up to touch the new scar, a rose-tinted indentation in the middle of his sternum. A phantom ache bloomed under his fingers.

She had been only a human girl then, guised as she was, and unfortunate enough to be the one to find him bleeding out, collapsed there against the gnarled tree he would have gladly let become his grave. She had saved his very soul that night in the rain, though neither of them had known it at the time. It was very likely she still didn't.

And here she was again, nursing the consequences of his own obstinate pride and blaming herself for it. Too often, too willingly did she take the weight of his burdens as her own, while he futilely sought to keep her safe from them. Safe from him. She was the most stubbornly kind creature he had ever known; a knight of her own design—a savior he had never had any right to.

Roiben reached out to tuck a loose tendril of viridescent hair behind her ear. The slight movement pulled at the lesion on his back, threatening another wince. He resisted. "Kaye," he started, and when she didn't meet his eyes, he crooked a finger under her chin and canted her head to him.

"There is nothing you have done—not since the moment I met you to now, that was not something." His thumb ran over her emerald jawline, the smooth skin silk in contrast to the roughness of his own. Kaye's eyes fluttered and she leaned into his touch. "I know it is my failure, in not telling you as such, that you mistakenly think yourself so inadequate. For that, I am well and truly sorry."

Through the burning discomfort of his wounds, Roiben drew her down to him and captured her mouth in a kiss. He had never been a master of apologies— or much else for that matter. And for reasons he was unable to name, his way of begging Kaye's pardon seemed to often be sought with his mouth, as if he hoped she could taste it on his tongue— and forgive him with her own.

Her lips, softer than satin and more delectable than any wine he had ever tasted, parted in a soft, lilting sigh. The sound, as it so often did, caused the muscles in his lower abdomen to coil with a rush of warmth. His bandaged fingers moved to tangle in her wild hair as her tongue danced between his teeth, languorous at first, then quickly shifting into something nearer to frenzy. He could feel his pulse quicken, the familiar strain across the front of his trousers when her hand splayed his chest, soft fingertips pressing into his bare skin. His breath hitched.

And then Kaye's lips were gone and she was pushing herself back up, away from him, her breathing ragged. He watched her dazedly, lamenting the abrupt loss of her closeness. She combed a hand through her mess of green hair, and Roiben realized she was trembling. He frowned.

"What is it?" he asked, drawing himself up to a sitting position, jaw clenched against the sharp tug of the bandage stretching from his shoulder to his hip. "Have I done something to displease you?" He glanced down, sliver gaze settling on a fraying thread of gauze on his wrist. "Perhaps my apology wasn't quite the one you were looking for, but I—"

"That's not it." Kaye cut him off, and when he looked back up to meet her eyes, he was disconcerted to find their pitch depths were suddenly glistening. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kaye raised a hand to forestall him. He pressed his lips together, obediently falling mute. "It… it's not you. I mean, it's a little bit you. Okay— maybe it's a lot you. But… I'm just…" She let out a frustrated groan, as though she couldn't quite manage to untangle whatever thought she was trying to get out. The back of her hand swiped angrily across her eyes.

Roiben knew she hated crying, but he was unsure whether it was explicitly crying in front of him, or if it was the act altogether. Whatever the reason, there was a nagging in his gut, a temptation to reach up and wipe away the glittering tear that rolled down the curve of her verdant cheek.

But he stayed patiently, painfully silent beside her, fingers worrying the fabric over his knuckles instead as she worked through unweaving her mind. Roiben found himself suddenly wishing he had the power to read it, if only to help wrench her free of whatever trap that held her there, apart from him. Finally, she sighed—a dispirited sound that reverberated through the otherwise quiet stillness of his chambers.

"Why did you come back? Why did you find me at the diner? Why did you choose me?"

The string of questions— rather, the way she asked them, whispered, bordering on anguish, stung him like the gilded edge of Talathain's blade. Roiben gaped at her, for a moment too stunned to respond. Her expression was contorted slightly, the emotions that coursed through her scrambling over one another to find purchase on her face. Still, she held his gaze with an unwavering severity that bored into his very being and rooted him to the spot.

He knew she would not accept his usual indirect summarizations, those with which he so carefully guarded himself. He was now well beyond the safety of that delicate thread of tightroped truths he danced.

She expected—commanded his unreserved forthrightness, with that look that held the power of his name without it ever needing to cross her lips.

#this is my pride and joy ok #i don't think i've ever written something with so much effort #i was terrified it'd be purple-prosey but i *think* it's ok?#whatever even if it is i fuckin love it #and miss black herself said to write what you love first #so there it is #roiben #rath roiben rye #kaye fierch #kaye x roiben #mft #tmft #modern faerie tales #tfota #the folk of the air #tfota fic

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