#but sir doesn’t think that’s an excuse for STUPID | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

julia4today · 6 hours

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almuerzo fluff

(husband!miguel x pregnant!reader)

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what’s happens when people find out about you? about your kids. idk but i had this idea so just bare (bear?) with me. writing on iphone and computer-- there's some spanish in there. i don' t practice all that often since i left home so excuse any off translation

tw: swearing, angst if you squint, no proofreading

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guards, hq doesn’t need ‘em. mainly because they have thousands of spidermen swinging around, ready to save. unfortunately those spidermen aren’t always the most aware when it comes to being in hq. considering you somehow managed to slip past them.

you, with a toddler on your hip and a basket of food in your hand combined with your intensely slow walking. you would expect to atleast have some hassle getting through the doors.

you were so close too, just one more hallway until you could have lunch in peace with your husband. unfortunately some spiders get nosy. some spiders try to detain you, take your kid from you, call over other spiders, and rummage through your food.

of course this doesn’t go without protest.

“ma’am who are you? and where did you get this kid? to what do you have business here?”

“give me back my kid.” you respond struggling against the grasp of a…dinosaur? no im just kidding, yet another peter parker.

“we have no way of knowing that she is yours.”

crying and kicking coming from your daughter, gabriella. “get away! get away! i want mommy!” she screams, trying her best to now push past the crowds to get to you. a spider picks her up, beginning to take her away.

“get your hands off my kid!” you say, as tears prick your eyes. finally struggling free and, slowly, running to grab gabriella. picking her up and holding her in your arms. “it’s okay honey, mommy’s here.”

wiping her tears you turn to face the group, looking around you notice your once perfectly made up lunch with all the food for a family of 5 (your husbands a big eater…) was now strewn across the floor.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you shout, covering your daughters ears, slowly rocking her. you hear a spider call the boss, your husband. how unfortunate for the group.

“we don’t know who you are, if you’re dangerous, what you’re doing here!”

“i’m pregnant, with my daughter, carrying a basket of food to my husband! how is that dangerous?!”

“well we-“ cut off my the stomping you know so well and the yelling you could never forget.

you could hear him, saying that “if it was something stupid he’d fire all of them.” that “if the woman was dangerous why didn’t they call him sooner?"

as he approaches you see his eyes widen and his body relax. he lets out a sigh. he easily makes his way through the masses, a path paved for him, through the sea of people.

the crowd watches in awe as he picks up the little girl. "hola mi princesa. ¿como estas?" he says softly as he wipes any excess tears from gabriella's eyes.

"papa they were s-so mean to mommy."

"i know baby, i'm sorry you had to go through that," he replies, glaring over at the, now, cowering and slightly shocked, group of spiders. he turns to you, placing a kiss on your cheek. "¿qué pasó, mi amor? pensé que venías a almorzar."

"yeah, well that's not what they thought. nuestra comida está arruinada," you hang your head in annoyance.

"i know, but luckily we have a food court, although nothing is better than your food," he lifts your face, sighing and turning around.

"what the hell is your problem? putos cabrones, THAT'S MY WIFE. idiots," he yells, still holding gabriella. who has now fallen asleep in her dads arms.

"s-sir we didn't know." a brave spider spoke up.

he rolls his eyes, resting his free hand on his hip. "and you think a pregnant lady, with her daughter, and a basket of food is really a threat? why did i hire such morons?!" he exclaims.

he turns towards you, putting on a sweet expression with a soft smile. "c'mon mami, let's go get some food." turning around once more he yells one last times.

"you all, pick up this mess and meet me in my office in two hours." everyone could pick up the sinister tone in his voice, it wasn't hard to miss.

"mi héroe," you say, and you all walk towards the food court. although when you have a group of teen spiders wandering around the building who are a little too obsessed with heir bosses personal lives, you don't get much privacy.

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alright what do we think? also yes mahagony pt 2 is coming but honestly i haven' t had any motivation to start pt 2 yet. so sorry to those waiting. i woke up at 5 am and suddenly had the urge to make this so heres hoping we all like it

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #spider man 2099 #miguel 2099 #atsv miguel #might delete later

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emmedoesntdomath · 11 months

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ok, but imagine young bradley repeatedly getting pissed when people don’t seem to understand that uncle (dad) mav loves uncle (pops) ice.

a coworker when they see him in public: *to ice and mav* it’s nice that you guys get along for young bradshaw here

bradley, squinting at this man like he’s stupid: but they always get along?

mav, snickering: thanks

a classmate when he has to do a family tree: wait so why are they next to each other again?

bradley, who had watched this same kid give a presentation with the same lines with his aunt and uncle: …because they are? why wouldn’t they be?

classmate, even more confused: but-

a teacher when he first goes to the academy: maverick is a brilliant pilot, but you shouldn’t try to be like him. the only reason he still has a job is because he’s friends with admiral kazansky

bradley, with the most deadpan look on his face: friends? really? they’re friends? is that it?

the teacher, absolutely appalled: bradshaw, that’s not how you talk about your superiors-

jake, thinking he’s funny: *talking about their “friendship”* c’mon, rooster, a good ol’ rivalry never hurt no one. look at maverick and iceman. legends.

bradley, over this shit: THEY’RE GAY YOU DUMBASS. IN LOVE. THE MOST HOMOSEXUAL SHIT YOU’VE EVER SEEN. THE ONLY RIVALRY THEY HAVE IS OVER WHO HAS TO DO THE DISHES.

jake, who still thinks he’s funny: …your point being?

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yanderenightmare · 2 months

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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, drugging

fem reader

Thinking about a human collector who decides he wants a new pet to add to his collection...

The air of the animal shelter is polluted by whimpers, howls, and growling as he parades past all sorts of rareties locked up in their cages – all for him to pick and choose from.

The warden is telling him about the new swan hybrid they wrangled a week ago, wings like an angel with the grace of royalty, a true prize jewel of any collection.

He thinks it sounds promising before strolling past you.

Placed in one of the smaller cages on the floor, seemingly tucked away so as not to catch anyone’s attention.

You’re a sorry sight to behold – all starved and shaking – the collar around your throat too heavy for you to lift your head, having to look up at him through your lashes as he crouches down in front of you.

Your eyes are wide like two moons as he sticks a finger in through the bars.

It’s thick like a carrot, and for a moment, you seem like you’re about to scurry away into the very back of your cage – but instead, you inch closer, sniffing at the digit before suddenly snapping at him.

He backs away with a hiss, drawing the warden's attention – who rushes back and knocks his cain against the cage with a growl in his throat, “Stupid critter.”

You’ve narrowed your eyes, nose wrinkled in anger – something akin to a snarl forming your lips. It’s a funny expression to see on such a normally docile breed.

“I’m really sorry, sir. Bunnies aren't usually aggressive, but we’ve had issues disciplining this one for weeks.” The warden rushes out the apologetic excuse, expecting to be sued.

But the collector only chuckles – a deep sound that makes your soft fur stiffen. “That’s fine.”

He pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket, all movements calm and collected as he wipes the spill of blood trickling from the small bite mark you’d left on his finger.

“It’s only a nibble, after all.”

You spit the bitter taste left in your tongue out on his shoes with another sneer.

If it angers him, it still doesn’t show through the lofty smile he wears. His leer is just as poised and heavy as he looks down at you.

“Does she talk?”

The warden had turned to lead him towards the more desirable and tamed section but halted at the question.

He had a puzzled look on his face before he answered, almost in a question himself, “We don’t know.”

The collector scoffed out another small laugh, then pulled out his phone. “How much?”

The warden seemed appalled then. “Sir, we have exotic pets more up to your standard in the back. Are you sure-”

“I want this one.”

The warden looked snuffed at his firm tone. But straightened himself out after a moment. All business as usual. “We can’t guarantee she’ll behave. It could be dangerous-”

But he’s cut off yet again, this time with another rumbling chuckle.

“That won’t be an issue.”

And those dark eyes with that deeply dominating look within them were the last thing you remember seeing before becoming a sleepy heap on the floor of your cage – drooling with a blank stare as you’re carried to the trunk and driven off with.

The tranquilizer makes you fall asleep, waking to heat swallowing you as you’re lowered into a bathtub.

“Let’s get you groomed first.” The same man murmurs in a coo. Petting your head with a heavy hand when seeing your weary eyes try blinking off the sleep – but still left too drowsy to thrash.

Instead, you can just moan as he washes you with a tender smile on his face – his big hands coarse against your creamy skin, rubbing your plush limbs with soap and oil.

“My pets have been an awful handful lately…”

He’s talking about something, but you only catch bits and pieces of the words being said. Something about ruts and scratched furniture – someone’s been pissing in the sofa, and all the pillows are ruined.

He messages the lops of your ears, then rinses them gently.

“But it’s my fault. I’ve been neglectful.”

He cups your tits next, lathering them with the warm milky water, circling your nipples with the gritty pads of his thumbs until they perk.

Then he delves under the water to find your puffy cunt, letting the hot water rush the sensitivity, making it swell with heat as he splits the lips and pets your clit.

You buck your hips, and he awes with a light chuckle, crooning down at you. “It's okay, little bunny.”

His carrot-sized finger teases your hole before sinking inside you, filling you in slow and tentative pumps. Sitting next to the tub, just as composed as before, while your cunt squeezes his knuckles.

He hums, watching your body fight the tranquilizer as you seize up and ripple with release.

He retracts his hand, patting them both on the fluffy towel placed next to him. A content smile on his face. “You’re gonna do perfect.”

After he’s finished drying you, he fixes a collar around your throat and carries you out to the others.

“Gather ‘round, pets.” He announces, placing you down on the soft carpeted floors beneath.

Your limbs are still heavy, too weak to stand just yet. But that all changes with the adrenaline kick.

“Come say hi to your new rut-puppet.”

The stench in the air coats your skin with sweat.

“She’s a fragile thing, though, so make sure to play nice.”

Your big eyes skitter around.

On your left, there’s a wolf, fox, and hyena who all lick their teeth at the sight of you.

Next to them lies a bear that wakens from his slumber. He licks his snout with a huff.

Drool drips from the hang in their lips as they start panting.

And they aren't the only ones.

On your right, there’s a panther and leopard whose eyes all blackout into nothing but a deep pool of darkness.

Their tails slowly meander behind them as they arise from their beds to stalk you.

You whimper, backing up until your back hits the legs of your new owner.

You lift your head to look up at him, only to see him smiling down at you.

“Don’t be shy now. The smell of fear only makes them wilder.”

part 2

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut

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d3arapril · 7 months

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nsfw modern!ellie headcanons <3

i've been deep in a pit of reddit audios and this is the result. i love ellie. head = empty.

mdni 18+ only!

i will start by saying this - ellie is dirty and a freak.

spits on it, in ur mouth...she also likes it when u spit in her mouth when ur on top

literally the dirtiest fucking mouth!? angels have cried bc of the things she says during sex

whispers 'whose is it?' in your ear whilst she's digging deep into you from behind, hand in your hair to pull your back up to her chest

(doggy is her favourite position btw she told me)

i've briefly said this before but ELLIE WILLIAMS SUCKS TOES! I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYBODY SAYS!!!! your legs will be up on her shoulders and she will have a toe in her mouth. or she’ll start at ur feet, kiss up ur legs until she reaches ur pussy 🍴

speaking of pussy this bitch loves to EAT! “babe can you get me an i’m a munch tshirt?”

anything is an excuse to go down on u. had a successful grocery shop? she’s down there. finally cleaned the bathroom? she’s down there (in said bathroom.. and she is eating it from behind, face against the mirror u know what’s up)

strap queen.... sings trap queen by fetty wap and laughs to herself cos she just thinks of the word strap..she sings it to u often.. u get annoyed often "she's my strap queen...that's what u think of me right babe?" (and abby is a scissor queen...will i elaborate? maybe one day)

she's huge on eye contact, loves to stare you down and make you feel small

as serious as she is she can very often be rly stupid during sex too.. like she will randomly gasp and lean up from ur neck and ur like what?!? and she’s like i just remembered something in savage starlight.. i gotta read that when we’re done and then just carries on fucking u. she forgot to read the comic and fell asleep

growls and groans in ur ear, her voice gets super deep and raspy when ur fucking

“let me fucking hear you” “whose is it baby?” “tell me whose pussy this is” all up in ur ear. Yes Sir 🫡

speaking of sir.. i don’t think ellie rly likes being called anything else besides her name (controversial)

she is a super jealous as we know so only wants to hear her own name coming out of your mouth

speaking of jealous she gets jealous of the strap if u suck it so she doesn’t like u doing that anymore

tell u what she does like tho.. she loves it when u go down on HER. she never asks for it but ur always happy to do it and when u do.. she’s wriggling all over the place, hands constantly switching between being in ur hair, in her own hair and covering her face, squeezing at ur hands.. girl can’t control herself

that’s enough for now i think…i need to go stand in the rain🧍🏼‍♀️

#head go brrrr #goodness me #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us smut #ellie #my writing

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kooqitas · 3 months

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— favorite teacher ★ with: jjk!

#pairings: teacher!jjk X reader

#synopsis: you didn't think your teacher would notice how desperate you were for his cock

#tags: teacher!jk, pwp, cockslut, rough sex, spanking, semi public sex (?), creampie, vaginal sex, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation,

🌸 . . nsfw, +18 |

────────────────── ୭ ──────────────────ㅤ

"you fucking pervert. you like this, don't you? is this pussy wet after seeing my class?"

your teacher looks like you are a freak, yeah, maybe you are.

to be honest, it is kinda difficult to explain how this happened. you really have a big crush on your teacher and of course if he asks you to ride on his dick, but he's never made a mention about that, unlike this, he's really so kind and respectful with you and your friends.

but he’s hot. super hot.

you feel your underwear wet after the moment you stepped on the class.

jeon jungkook is your teacher of criminal law, and you really like your teaching methods, but being a young adult in a constant fertile period doesn’t help.

the teacher is so attractive, every part of your body, with the passing of the months you just want to sit on his face and sucking your dick.

but you always hide this, except for today.

you never felt your pussy so wet when this man started speaking like annalise keating, and your tight pants doesn’t help, your thighs make you insane.

the only thing you can do is take a lollipop and leave it in your mouth, sucking like jungkook's dick.

he got it. you practically devore him with eyes when sucks the candy.

the class is over, so he’s calling you.

“what’s your problem today?”

is he looking at your nipples? wow

“excuse me, sir?”

“to be honest, i really receive several proposals to eat my students, but you know, i always decline…”

it’s true, you always hear your friends say that they have tried something more with jungkook, insinuations, short clothes, inappropriate photos, everything, but he always said “no”.

this is one of the motives you never tried anything.

“i know that, but i can’t understand why u tell me this, sir…”

“oh! really?” he asked, the mocker tone evident in his voice. “what you want of me, sweetheart?”

“excuse me?”

oh, jungkook we're going to humiliate you? say that you’re a pervert and he never wants anything with you? really?

“i see how you look to me when sucks that lollipop, i see in your face how that cunt makes you wet at each little word i said.” he’s raised, staying in front of you. “you want that i fuck you, stupid whore?”

jungkook's face changed. he’s look like a devil, maybe the pleasure, but still a devil.

what the fuck he’s doing? all your friends say that he always said “i'm not interesting, bye” but why now he’s spoken like that?

“i made a question, because to be honest, i’m tired of hiding how much i want to fuck your cute little drippy cunt, of hiding how much i want make you cum on my cock and made you my personal slut”

“y-yes, i want”

he laughed.

"you fucking pervert. you like this, don't you? is this pussy wet after seeing my class?"

so, he stood in front of you, grabbing her waist tightly and sticking his tongue in her mouth.

“the d-dor.” you said.

“that’s ok, i don’t care if someone see i fucking a whore.”

without a warning, he lifted your skirt and rubbed his middle finger on you wet underwear. you moaned.

“this is a good slut, i even need to prepare you with my fingers, you are so wet to my cock, desperate for me to fill you with my sperm, no?” he still rubbed, now your clit, your legs trembled and you feel that you can cum in his fingers. “we need to be faster, i said that i don’t care if someone see, but if this happened we can’t play anymore”

“p-please.” you even know for what you are asked, have jungkook brushing his middle finger on your clit is like a fucking wet dream.

“can your sweet and little pussy take my fat cock?” you feel the other hand pinched your nipple, and scream because of the pain. “a word, sweetheart, i need a word because nothing else will make me stop to fuck this hole open.”

“i dont need a w-word. i want everything.”

he pinched your clit, and you scream again, made him laugh on your ear.

“knew a dumb slut like you was good to me. desperate to feel begging me to defile this tight, no? but i need a word. but i know you won't use it, you're desperate to cry while i tear that pussy apart.”

you said a word, nothing special just “popcorn”, don’t have a motive or anything, is just a random word that you can remember if it is necessary.

you even notice when he removed the belt and underwear, just feel he’s dick opening you without any care, it didn't hurt, you were too excited for that, of course, a slight burning but nothing that wasn't pleasurable.

“now, my favorite student, watch me dick fuck this little hole open” he said when he lifted your skirt and grabbed your leg, leaning against the table to leave you open for him.

jungkook isn’t a ‘gentleman’ he’s fucking you like a toy, the table is shaking because the power of that he hit you and you scream everytime his ball hit in you.

you see his sucking his middle finger and you can’t understand what happens, but the confusion soon disappears when you feel him rub his finger wet with spit on you asshole.

“next time, i use this hole.”

“c-cu-”

“you gonna cum?” he let go of your waist to leave a slap on your face. “is your teacher's cock so hot that you're going to cum on it?”

“y-yeah.”

“so cum, whore!” he slap on your face again, and again.

and when the orgarms finally came, he kissed you trying to muffle your screams.

he continuous to fucking your pussy. you ruined and felt the overstimulation, your body didn't stand up, but his still fucking.

still fucking untill cum on your pussy, the white liquid oozing on you.

the floor is a mess, the table is a mess, and you is a mess too.

you think that is over, but jungkook got on his knees and sucks you.

making him swallow your cum and his.

“so…” she said, standing up and fixing his pants. “i want to fuck you everyday now.”

“i'll do anything for my favorite teacher.”

“so when you get home, send me a video of your shower. i will be waiting.”

🌸 . . part 2 maybe?

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 writer #bts #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook #jk x reader #jk #★... lulli writes

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rodolfoparras · 7 months

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think about price who constantly refers to his lover as 'the wife' with lovesick eyes to 141

now imagine 141 loosing their SHIT on the inside when they first meet 'the wife' and she isn't some petite pretty little housewife like they imagined but instead a large ass man built like a fucking TANK and easily towers over Simon who is the tallest of the group. price still refers to him as 'the wife' with the dorkiest grin ever and 141 doesnt let him live it down, threatening him with telling 'the wife' whenever he doesnt let them do something stupid

(feral anon)

(i want to be 'the wife' so bad but sadly i am a short transmasc that doesn't look like a man at all)

(your posts cure my gender disphoria)

A/N: I loved this idea and I’ve been wanting to write a fluff piece for my old man so here u go, something very light hearted ! Excuse any mistakes I wrote it within an hour or so!

It’s no secret that Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, not many people know he’s married and he likes to keep it that way.

However he has no qualms about 141 finding out about the person he loves so much, matter of fact Laswell was the first to know, all unplanned of course.

It all happened when the two of them snuck away from the rowdy group of men to smoke. Sitting inside would’ve been a better option. It was warm inside, they had decent lighting and were within hand’s distant to their drinks but that would also mean they were at risk of losing their hearing or getting elbowed in the stomach or face by the drunken men, so outside it is.

Price offers her his cigar, which she takes gracefully muttering something along the lines of “my wife doesn’t like it when I smoke” while taking a drag from the tobacco leaf.

“Neither does mine” he says with crows feet appearing around his eyes and lips curling up into a smile.

“You’re married?” Laswell says, only with a hint of surprise on her face as she hands the cigar back to him.

“Happily” he says smile still present as ever on his face before he takes a drag from the cigar as well “been that way for four years now”

She just nods in response before she takes the cigar back, and that’s pretty much how Laswell finds out about Price’s spouse.

The next person to find out about it is Gaz.

141 had been out on a mission that day, and Gaz had taken the impulsive decision to head straight into the fire in hopes of getting important intel. He’s managed to get it but not without getting scolded for his reckless behavior by Price. Hours later and the guilt is still eating at him so he decides to make his way over to Price’s office in an attempt to make amends with the older man.

Gaz takes a deep breath before he knocks on Price’s office door.

“Come on in” he hears the older man’s voice.

Gaz walks in only to be met with the sight of Price seated in his office chair, paper work scattered about on his desk and a cigar resting between his index and middle finger.

“Sir” Gaz says, awkwardly shuffling in place. “I’d like to apologize for earlier today”

“Already forgotten”

The surprise must’ve been clear on his face because the older man can’t help but chuckle.

“Sit down” Price says pointing at the chair opposite to him before taking another drag from the tobacco leaf.

Gaz swiftly takes a seat, hands resting on his knees, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

There’s a moment of silence as Price rearranges the paper in a neat pile on his desk, pen carefully placed next to it before he speaks again.

“You got someone special waiting for you back home?”

Once again Gaz is surprised but this time the older man just looks at him and smiles.

“I do, sir”

“So do I” Price says smile getting bigger as he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Oh don’t look at me like that I’m not that old am I?”

“No - no sir” Gaz says, hands awkwardly flailing about and feeling his ears burn as he blurts out the words.

Price’s smile grows even bigger before he begins to explain “point is I’m sure that special someone wants you back home alive, if anything were to happen to me I’m sure the wife would find a way to haunt me in the after life”

Price’s gaze falls to his hands, fingers fidgeting with his wedding band.

Oh.

The wife.

The ring.

The captain is married.

“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not do to make sure we come back home to them, keep that in mind Garrick”

“Yes sir” Gaz says, mind still processing this new found information.

“Good, now if you excuse me I have someone to call,”

Gaz without thinking says “the wife?”

Price only chuckles but nods his head in confirmation “the wife”

Soap is the third person to find out and it happens while 141 are relaxing on base, playing cards and drinking beer.

Price walks in with black slacks and a white button, rolled all the way up to his elbows. On top of that there’s an invisible trail of cologne that seems to follow his form.

“Captain! Come join us” soap says not even looking up at the man but instead keeping laser focus on the cards in his hand.

“No can do boys I’m heading out with the wife”

Soap almost drops the cards in his hand, head turning so fast Price is surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “You’re married?”

“I am” Price says trying to suppress his chuckle when he sees Gaz peaking at Soap’s cards. “You weren’t planning on proposing were you soldier?” Price jokes which sends the rest of the group into a fit of laughter.

Soap physically recoils at that, head turning back to his cards and muttering a “to you captain? No thanks”

“Alright then, I’m heading out” Price says, choosing to ignore soaps comments, as he pulls on his jacket“don’t wait up!”

As Price makes his way over to the front door, he hears the group continuing to tease soap, can even hear the Scotsman accuse Gaz of looking at his cards, but he quickly forgets about everything as he sees you parked outside and waiting for him.

Ghost was very well aware of Price’s spouse, had even been the first person to know that Price was planning to propose.

The two of them had been in an entirely different squad, and less familiar with each other when they got sent out on a mission. A lot of things went wrong that day so much so Ghost and Price weren’t sure if the both of them would get back home alive. So Price had taken the opportunity to tell him about this special someone, how he was planning to propose to this person when they were scheduled to go back home, had even forced a wedding band in the palm of Ghost’s hand and told him to give it to the person if Price doesn’t make it out alive.

Luckily the both of them had managed to get out alive and Ghost had gotten the opportunity to watch Price put the ring on this person’s hand.

With that being said Ghost should be able to recognize this person if they were to appear in front of him but it’s been years so when he hears someone asking where Price is he doesn’t think twice about telling them, chalking it up to some poor lost recruit looking for the captain, while keeping his eyes on the weapon he’s cleaning.

However he doesn’t get to do much more before he hears another voice.

“Who’s the guy?” says soap, confusion clear in his tone.

Ghost turns to the other man and the annoyance must’ve been clear in his eyes because Soap raises his hands in an apologetic manner. “Oh sorry did i interrupt something important “ he says with a smile on his face.

“Anyway a tall really tall dude maybe taller than the ghost?” He pauses as if contemplating before he continues to explain “was looking for Price, really buff too…” he trails off while glancing down at his arms “hey you think I should work out more?”

Ghost just sighs before he returns to cleaning his weapon but he’s once again interrupted when Gaz walks in.

“Captain wants to see us in his office”

And that’s when he fully gives up on the task as he follows the two other men over to Price’s office, grumbling over why the captain was calling them over while putting up with the chatter from the Scotsman telling Gaz all about the giant that just passed him.

It doesn’t take much before they find themselves in front of Price’s office.

Through the door they can hear Price’s voice along with a much deeper voice, holding a conversation.

Soap is the first to knock on the door, while sharing confused glances with the two other men.

“Come in”

The three men enter the room only to be met with the sight of Price standing behind his office chair where a man is sitting in it, both of them sporting equally bright smiles on their faces.

“Boys” Price says, face ever so proud as he looks down at the man “meet the wife”

The man stands up, tall just like Soap had described him and when he reaches a hand out they see a wedding band that matches the one on Price’s hand.

“I’m the wife” you say with a big smile on your face.

#anonie me and u can still be /the wife/ fawk what everyone says 🤝#alec answers #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #call of duty #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #scribbles #feral anon

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wildechildwrites · 1 month

Text

Attitude Adjustment

Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Light angst, violence

No use of Y/N

Summary: Ghost beats the shit out of you no I will not elaborate

A:N: Ghost's hands are rated E for everyone

AO3 Link: Attitude Adjustment

You're sitting in furious silence during the mission debrief, Gaz and Soap shooting you sympathetic glances that you pointedly ignore, Price's anger filling the room like natural gas, smothering you. Ghost leans against a wall, shadowed and silent.

Price finally dismisses everyone else with a bark, and you’re left alone with your fuming captain and his silent lieutenant, haunting your peripheral.

“You ignored a direct order.” Price’s voice is gruff, leaving no room for argument. You know you should apologize, but you can’t stomach it. Not when you saved his goddamn life.

“You think I was just going to let them kill you?” You ask, indignant. Price glares at you.

“I think, corporal, that you ignored a direct order from your commanding officer.” Price’s tone is sharp and dismissive.

"You put yourself and the rest of your team in danger. You could've been killed. You almost were."

“But sir–” You object, still trying to justify yourself. If he would just listen– Price shoots up from his desk, stabbing a finger towards the door.

“Don't fucking argue with me," He growls, chest heaving. "Get out."

You stand, stunned, feeling your traitorous tear ducts begin to sting. Ghost has offered nothing, and you catch his cold gaze before spinning around and storming out, slamming the door behind you.

You knew you were out of line, had vaulted out of order the moment you ignored Price, the moment you ignored every instinct the military had beaten into you, but it wasn't fair. He would’ve pulled the same stupid bullshit if the situation was reversed. You scrub angrily at your eyes, potent rage bubbling in your chest. He was singling you out on purpose, angry at you for something he would’ve excused had it been anyone else. You turn a corner, stomping down the hallway.

Soap is lingering near your room, acting far too interested in the leaky ceiling tiles. He spins around to face you when he hears your footsteps, opening his mouth to say something, but you cut him off before he can speak.

"Just don’t Johnny.” You snarl, aiming for a biting tone. It comes out as a plea, and the Scotsman gives you a pitying look that just stokes the rage curling in your chest. He steps in front of you, trying to slow your momentum, and you purposefully slam your shoulder into him, ignoring him as he calls after you.

You make a beeline for the gym, heading for a punching bag. Your fingers are numb, and you can’t stop shaking, so you throw yourself at the bag, hurling punch after punch.

“Price ripped into you good.” Ghost calls out from behind you. You jump, throwing him a sour look over your shoulder in response. You hadn’t heard him come in, unsure of how long he’s been standing there.

“You ripped into him right back.” He observes. His gaze is cold, prickling along your spine. You bite your tongue, landing a hard kick on the bag.

“Heard you also barked at Johnny.” He adds, as if an afterthought, his tone deceptively casual. You know then that you’re in real trouble. You’d been a bitch to Mactavish, and now Ghost was here to defend his honor. You roll your eyes, giving yourself that small amount of defiance before turning to face him.

He’s wrapping his hands, standing on the sparring mat closest to you. He cocks his head, eyes flat and expressionless, but the challenge is clear. You're angry enough to take the bait, abandoning your punching bag.

Ghost wordlessly gets into a fighting stance. You mirror him, waiting for the lecture, and the first blow almost knocks you on your ass.

You’ve sparred with Ghost before, but you don't think he's ever hit you that hard. It's staggering, and you double over slightly. Simon doesn’t give you a second to recuperate, throwing another punch. You barely dodge it, sliding under his arm, aiming for his ribs. You’re sloppy, and he blocks you, adding a shove to throw you off balance. It’s a dirty move, one that pisses you off even more, and you’re back on the defensive, protecting yourself as Simon throws another punch, harder than the first. You block it with more success, then move closer, aiming low. He blocks you again.

You’re panting, already exhausted from the mission, heat in your cheeks, anger building. Ghost has the advantage, twice your size and fucking mean, and you’re just trying to defend yourself. That’s all you’ve been doing all fucking day, defending yourself from your own goddamn team.

You kick him hard in the stomach. Ghost seems unaffected, those cold eyes unreadable. You throw another punch, putting all your weight into it, and he grabs your arm, using your momentum against you, flipping you over his shoulder. You slam onto your back on the mat.

“What the fuck Si-” you snap, and he kicks you in the ribs. You scramble backwards, trying to regain your footing as he advances on you.

“Price is too relieved that you’re still alive to give you a proper punishment for insubordination.” He says. "I have no such scruples."

Ghost’s blank expression doesn’t change, not even when he slams his boot into your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto your back again. You glare up at him, your chest heaving.

“Fuck you.” You spit.

“You need to remember who your superiors are,” Ghost continues evenly, ignoring you.

You go to stand, and he knocks you over once again. You practically snarl at him, shooting out and grabbing his leg. Using his body weight against him, you bring him crashing down onto the floor next to you, then slam your knee into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Your victory is cut short when Ghost grabs you and flips the two of you over, pinning you to the floor with his body weight.

“You scared all of us,” he says. His eyes are still flat and cold. “Pull something like that again, I’ll pop your shoulder out of socket.”

You grapple against him, cursing, but he just tightens his grip, pinning your arms. It hurts, your shoulders and ribs screaming, the air being crushed out of your lungs by the weight of the giant man on top of you, but you keep fighting him.

“Get off,” you rasp. Ghost leans down, his face inches from yours.

“Are you done being a brat?” He asks lowly. You manage to twist one of your hands enough to dig your fingernails into his stomach. In response, Ghost grabs your wrist, pulling your arm behind you with enough force to wrench your shoulder. You’re completely immobilized.

It’s all too much. The exhaustion and pain, the anxiety of the mission, the humiliation of being reprimanded, the indignant rage that’s been bubbling inside of you. Everything comes crashing down, tears you’ve been fighting all day suddenly pouring out. You let out an involuntary sob, and Simon lets up, just enough to allow you to breathe, keeping you pinned beneath him as your tears build up steam.

“There’s our girl,” he says, his gravelly voice uncharacteristically soft, almost frayed. It only makes you cry harder, keening wails muffled by the large man on top of you.You're confused at the sudden switch, overwhelmed and disoriented. He rubs comforting circles into your wrist, and you’re falling apart, coming unspooled.

You sob until you run out of tears, your cries trailing off into sniffling, and only then does Ghost let you up. The anxiety and anger is gone, leaving tender exhaustion, the soreness from the fight a tangible sensation, grounding you.

“I think a hot shower is in order, corporal” Ghost says gently, helping you to your feet. You’re wobbly, trailing after him on unsteady legs as he leads you to the locker room.

He leaves you to it, disappearing back into the gym, and you strip, letting the warm water wash off the rest of the day, standing under the stream until your eyes are drooping.

To your surprise, Ghost is waiting for you when you get out, eyes closed, head resting against the wall. He looks tired, his dark circles a bruised shade of purple, showing through the half smeared off black paint. He opens his eyes, expression unreadable, and you sit down next to him.

“Apologize to Soap, will ya? He’s gutted. Sensitive, that one,” Ghost grumbles, rolling his eyes, but there’s real warmth behind the gruff, dismissive tone of voice. “And the next time you want a lashing, come straight to me instead of stomping about.”

Heat rises unexpectedly to your face, and you open your mouth to protest.

Simon holds up a finger, silencing you before you can say anything.

“Don’t fight me on it, we both know that’s what you needed. Price would've gladly taken you over his knee, but I figured you’d bite our heads clean off at the suggestion."

Your brain short circuits, your mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you stare at Ghost. He holds your gaze unflinchingly.

“I should, um,” you stutter, stumbling to your feet, “I should go find Soap.”

You practically run to the doors, and you swear as you step into the hallway you hear quiet laughter, echoing behind you.

#if I say this is a vent fic are yall gonna be weird #looney tunes pt 3 coming soon promise #ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #reader insert #ghost/reader #simon riley x reader

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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years

Text

OP Men With a Girlfriend with a Fat Ass. (Black Fem! Reader)

Ft. Monster Trio, Kid, Law, Ace, & Shanks

A/N: Yeah boobs are great…but nobody talks about anime dudes loving ass like commonnnnnnnnn. + I think women in OP don’t have big butts. Like…they have the tits sure and Ik they have A FORM of a butt but like…they ain’t got a fat asssssss

CW: A whole lotta nonsense.

Luffy

You are the sole reason he is a butt guy rather than a boob guy

He likes having you walk in front of him for obvious reasons

He doesn’t realize how much he stares though it’s kinda just subconsciously a thing he does with no shame behind it

Your butt has a literal mind of its own when you walk and it’s just mesmerizing to him

He never touches it though

On purpose

When Luffy hugs you he mostly enjoys wrapping his arms around your hips and thighs and lowers himself to pretty much hug your butt with his face

You remember when Luffy had to hide under Boa’s coat and his body was wrapped around her body—-yeah like that that’s how he hugs you from behind

It’s so soft pls let him bite it.

There was a few times you caught him staring and he’d laugh it off scratching the back of his head before you almost scold him for not paying attention as you talked

If you both are sexual in your relationship your ass is something he holds dear when sleeping with you.

Luffy grinds on ur soft and plush butt while you both are sleeping, at first you couldn’t sleep because of this but you’ve somehow gotten used to his erratic thrust against your ass

When you lay on your stomach and watches you shift just to see your butt jiggle

He’s so amazed on how it still moves even after you stopped shifting

All in all Luffy loves dat ass.

Zoro

Ass eater fasho

Look at him.

Booty Hunter Zoro

He loves the booty more than anything else on you.

He was actually shocked on how fat your ass really was when you stood naked in front of him the first time KSHSSHS

You always wore jeans and they were so so tight (still looked good in them though) he just didn’t register HOW BIG your butt really was

“Fuck, you have a fat ass, babe.”

HE SLAPS IT SO HARD

And he SLAPS IT ALOT so be prepared

He doesn’t care either how much it hurts he loves watching it jiggle afterwards

Like sir excuse me you left a mark

Absolutely sleeps on it when you both nap.

Zoro is another one that just stares at you when you walk across the ship

Lord help you if you wear a sun dress

You have almost all thongs so when you wear looser clothing your butt is free to move how it likes

Makes you do mostly leg workouts to watch you squat

Swears you’re doing it wrong just to be behind you when you do it

“No, Y/N you have to go lower like this.”

“Get Ya dick Off me!”

He does ask you such stupid ass questions about it though

“So it’s not heavy when you fight?”

“Zoro what the hell are you talking about.”

“All of…that you’re carrying behind there.”

Mf…

Sitting on his face or eating it from the back once is a must if you want to use his mouth

“Imma suffocate you.”

“It’s okay i can hold my breath really long.”

Zoro is a Ass man and you just made it worse so congratulations

Kid

Same as Zoro. Eats dat ass for breakfast, lunch, and dindin

He enjoys watching you put on pants

“Something you need?”

“Just enjoying the show.”

He thinks your butt is nothing but temptation and something to distract him

Blames you for it completely because how dare you.

“PUT THAT AWAY!”

“WHAT?!”

“THAT BUTT OF YOURS I CANT FOCUS WITH IS SHAKING IN MY FACE ALL DAY—“

“HELLO—?!”

He has caught Killer watching. Killer tries to say he wouldn’t know because of his mask, but he know he’s looking right at your butt sway back and fourth

He uses it as a stress ball sometimes KSBSJSKS

Actually compares your butt with his

“Mine is bigger.”

“You mean flatter.”

“I hate you.”

Sanji

Definition of “Don’t know what to do with all that ass.”

When he first met you he of course adorned your beauty. Granted you always worn baggier clothing than the rest of the girls on the ship, since you were a bit heavier and insecure Sanji didn’t give af about that anyways he still liked you, but after the 2 years you loss some weight and gained the strength and confidence you always deserved and finally started to wear more revealing clothing and which revealed your true shape.

“Y/N-Y/N SAN YOUR BODY IS—-YOUR BUTT IS SO—“

Bleeding on sight. You were wearing some cut shorts with a tied shirt and the shorts cupped your round butt so beautifully.

Crush him with your thighs and butt pls

When you walk you tend to sway your hips a lot making your butt move and it catches his attention so fast all he wants to do is rub it :((

He gets hard a lot when you wear bikinis

NEEDS a reason to touch your lower half at least once a day or he’ll combust.

“Would you like me to rub sun screen on you, my princess?”

His lotioned hands always tease around your smooth fatty cheeks when he massages you

Speaking of massages he gives you one every night and that either leaves him a horny mess or fucking into you from the back

You shook your ass on him once while dancing and he just COULD NOT handle what he seen and bled on you

“Please do me the honor of sitting on my face.”

Okay so…there was this one time Sanji fucked you in the kitchen and he asked if he could try something knew and you said okay, he bent you over and poured honey on your ass and licked it up.

You were shocked and turned on all at once.

When you wear skirts you’re such a damn tease to him the way the back of it always ends up shorter than the front and it always hits the bottom of your cheeks so beautifully

VERY PROTECTIVE BTW

Immediately kicks around mfs that say anything derogatory about your shape

“She has to be a slut with a body like t—-“

One to the head now you know he dead

Yeah Sanji and the rest of the OP boys do not play about people talking about your body. It’s theirs for a reason who is anybody allowed to talk crap about it?

Law

He’s more of a thigh man but since you’re natural best believe you have those to match with them two beach balls you got back there

He always under estimates how you look in clothing.

“I don’t think this will fit—“

“It will It’s Just your unifo—-oh.”

Ass is still sitting pretty in a jumper.

Law’s stupid ass tends to read about bodies with larger mass of fat on specific areas and if it’s normal

NOT TO BE MEAN HE LOVES YOUR BODY HE JUST WANNA MAKE SURE YOURE COMFORTABLE AND HEALTHY PLS

He cuddles the butt and if your have stretch marks or cellulite he traces /pokes them with his fingers

“Stop that!”

“Your ass moves even when you talk, fuck..”

Absolutely cannot handle you doing reverse cowgirl

Cumming in minutes you didn’t even properly adjust to his size

He taps or plays with the fat of your thigh when he is in thought. So much so there is a small bruise that formed because he always did it in the same area

Wants you to sit on his face, but embarrassed to ask

DO NOT HOVER OVER HIS FACE HE HATES THAT SIT ON HIM.

You did it and he did the most obnoxious moan inside you

Makes you wear nothing but your panties when you both are alone.

Ace

“Suffocate me with your thighs please I don’t want to be alive anymore.”

He uses your butt as a punching bag sometimes KSHSHSISK

Like you’ll be looking the other way talking to him and he’ll be behind you lightly punching each cheek for his own amusement

He wants you to wear his shorts so bad???

“I can’t fit them.”

“You can—look they stretch!”

He just plays with your butt a lot and like 90% of the time it isn’t even sexual he just loves the fat of your ass sm.

He thinks you look like a mf goddess with how your body moves when you dance

He absolutely loves when you ride him but he does it in front of a mirror so he can watch your wet ass bounce in him.

“Stop Doing that or imma sit on you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

When he hugs you from behind he tends to dry hump you and sometimes you don’t notice KSHSHSKS

Falls asleep on your ass

Has thought about eating your ass

He just really loves your ass

Shanks

So. Many. Butt jokes.

He was drunk and barged into your room one night to find you laying on your stomach in your panties reading and kissed your ass

“Wha—?”

“I was craving something for my tooth so I kissed your butt…cuz you have such a sweet ass.”

You hate this man sm.

You have to sit on his lap once a day or he’ll pout. Literally pout all day.

Rubs your butt constantly when he is beside you.

Doesn’t give af who is watching because who gone stop him?

Another ass eater

HATES when other men look at your ass.

That’s his ass who tf are they to look and gawk over it?

Would prefer if you wore No panties when you wore skirts

Makes stupid excuse for you to bend over a lot

Absolute menace because he in fact an ass man

You’re actually the first woman he has been with with an ass like yours so when he sees it he sometimes gets flustered you never see it though.

Unlike Law doggy style and reverse cowgirl is the go tos. Your jiggly booty is his new treasure.

Dry humps you sm you swear he’s like a dog in heat.

When you guys go shopping he likes to be in the dressing room with you to watch you struggle to put on pants.

“Baby did you get the right size these feel too small?”

“No.”

“WHY?”

“Cuz look..” -casually pokes the fat that couldn’t get in the pants.- “sexy.”

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katshelluvacritic · 3 months

Text

Charlie Morningstar is probably one of the worst written characters I’ve seen in the series.

(This one’s gonna be a long one…)

Ok…. So I watched all six episodes and to be honest I’m pretty much pissed off by this character specifically. This might be more of a rant rather than a critique, so I do understand that not everything I say in this will end up being as constructive exactly but I genuinely need to get this off my chest, especially since she is a character I’ve specifically and recently been hyper fixating on before the show released…

(Side note: I realized the post was very long so, to have it be easier to read I added titles for each section! Hope this helps)

!!WARNING FOR SPOILERS FOR THE SERIES BTW!!

> Charlie lacks the qualities of being a main character.

Now besides the piss poor excuse of an introduction for her (and the rest of the cast) in the main series, I honestly question why exactly Charlie specifically is the “protagonist” in the first place (and I say protagonist with the biggest of quotes here, you’ll see why).

In the first episode of the series “overture”, we don’t really see much of her character, most of the time we’re shown screen time of Vicky (a nickname I made for v*ggie since I’m not gonna call her by her genitalia thank you) trying to make an ad for the hotel and even when we do get the screen time of her, she’s barely doing anything other than hearing viv’s self insert- I mean- Adam just go on and on about whatever he’s talking about.

And when Charlie does go on to explain her plan to redeem sinners she’s just interrupted and then stands there when they start singing hell is forever, she doesn’t “go off” like the hazbin Twitter says, she just stands there and then tries to say something only to get interrupted again and again and then gets pushed out of the meeting room before going back to the hotel to see it’s spread across in the news that the next extermination happens in 6 months.

Now although one might argue “Well didn’t Charlie at one point said in the show that giving orders is so mean?” Well yes but again, Charlie is literally the princess of pride ring, you would think that since her parents are literally rulers of pride, they would’ve probably teach her how to stand on her two feat, especially if your RUNNING A HOTEL. And the thing is, she has stood up and did so in episode 6 and the goddamn pilot (which is at this point is probably canon due to Charlie calling it the hazbin hotel instead of happy hotel), even going as far as to fight Katie Killjoy because she thought it was stupid.

Not only that but the episodes after overture, her screen time lessens until somewhat in 5 and 6. She doesn’t really appear that much in the between these episodes to the point where she feels like a supporting character rather than a protagonist. And when she does get screen time, she’s either forgettable at best and infuriating at worst.

> Charlie’s character is poorly written and just dumb.

In the episodes past overture, she’s literally rock solid stupid that I literally screamed in real life multiple times “you’re a fucking idiot” because of how frustrated I was from what she was doing, In episode 2 she literally trusted sir pentious to go to her hotel even though he almost destroyed her place and in episode 6 thought it was a hunky dory idea to let a person who literally exploded buildings to take charge of giving her employees a “good time”. Yes it could be played off as her being naive but if she’s that naive of a person then maybe she shouldn’t be a boss of a hotel to rehabilitate sinners.

Heck, in episode 4, Charlie gets pissed off and turns into her demon form because val literally started hurting Angel when he followed him into the room (and rightfully so) but when angel tells her to leave and drags her out of the studio, she’s just in her normal form and fucks off??? Reminder she’s literally the princess of hell! She could beat the shit out of val if she wants to, why did she just fucked off after angel had her leave?

“But Kat, what if something bad happens to angel if valentino dies?” Like what? If it was explained that if an overlord dies then the sinners that made a deal with them die too or something like that then yeah, that would make sense but we don’t know that whether or not that’s the case, if anything angel could be just fine after Valentino dies but we don’t know that.

And even when Charlie had the opportunity to go out there and apologize to him herself after he stormed out of the hotel, she and Vicky just send Husk to do it. And I have to ask, WHY? HUSK didn’t know what was happening to Angel earlier. HUSK wasn’t at the porn studio that Angel was working at. CHARLIE WAS….

“Well Kat, what if Charlie was scared about making things worse?” Fair enough, but again sending Husk is a stupid idea, I feel like it would’ve AT LEAST made sense if she sent Vicky out there. Because Charlie didn’t know if husk could fight (if you could even call it that, all he did was throw cards at people), BUT SHE KNEW VICKY COULD THOUGH. But nah we gotta do it for the ship right?

And then Charlie had the gull to be crying that angel forgave her after she fucked up, like shut the fuck up… it’s like if viv looked at a bunch of chars that had the optimistic care-free ‘ish personality and thought that meant making her as pathetic as a baby crying that they didn’t get a lollipop from their mommy.

Like I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s literally gone to a point where I think Orel Puppington (aka the 11 yo Christian kid who worships Jesus and gets harmful lessons from other Christians) makes a better Charlie Morningstar than the Charlie Morningstar herself!

And that thought is justified when he tried to go help people in Sinville, “Kat he ended up turning into a pimp at the end of the episode” yeah but AT LEAST HE TRIED TO ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING! Which leads me to another question….

> How is Charlie gonna redeem sinners exactly???

Like honestly, I’m serous with this one. How is Charlie gonna redeem these guys?

I ask this because in the series, she barely does ANYTHING to help these guys, she and the rest of the characters just sit around and then do an activity that is the equivalent of something you would do in kindergarten except it’s with ADULTS.

I don’t know about you but If your idea of helping people is doing just that and nothing else, then the only thing the people around you are gonna get is them being annoyed at first and eventually walking out with thinking your not helping them but rather just treating them like a baby who doesn’t know anything, and the only thing your gonna get personally is nothing because you did dick all.

Like other than that she pretty much just whines about sinners not going to her hotel and oh gee I wonder why, it’s not like your not doing anything to help these sinners not committing sins anymore, oh definitely not, your absolutely being helpful.

“Oh but Kat! Charlie was born in hell, how can she know how to help people? She’s not from the human world so, she wouldn’t exactly know how to help these people!” I would tell you to look at the world building for the series and it’s spin off but that’s a whole other can of beans that I don’t wanna cover today and this is already getting to long, so y’know what? We’ll go with that.

If Charlie didn’t know how to help people and was trying to figure out what she can do to help sinners get better, then why didn’t she just ask her employees for suggestions? Y’know, the other sinners who were from the human world and had experiences while they were alive and such?

Yeah, I get that not all of their advice would be exactly good or healthy (since they’re sinners who’ve done many bad things after all) BUT ITS AT LEAST SOMETHING FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!

She literally does nothing, she just expects you to immediately get better after some improvisations or whatever other activities she does and once you’ve done one nice thing then boom you’re close to redemption.

> Conclusion.

Charlie Morningstar is (like I said in the beginning) probably one of the worst characters in the hazbin hotel series, she at best a stereotype of the “everything is sunshines and rainbows” character tropes and at worst is a pathetic excuse of a main character and is nothing but a rotten shell of her character from the pilot.

I would go on about how her design’s also bad but I’m sure millions of people have already said the same issues and I’ve already posted my redesign of her before the show dropped.

I might plan on posting a rewrite of her or maybe explain my problems with another character or episode but I don’t know.

But until then, I’ll see y’all later!

#hazbin critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #Kat’s rants #rant post #hazbin critique #hazbin criticism #hazbin charlie #charlie magne #watch as I get hate on this post and get called an anti #like I genuinely feel like that’s gonna happen but idc

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sansaorgana · 1 month

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Angst idea where readers brother is in the 100 and buck her lover has to break the news that her brother was killed and she’s screaming in agony, and he’s just trying to be their for her in anyway possible :)

hi, love! 😌 I see you have a thing for angsty pieces 🤣 here it is then!

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

Buck felt stupid for interrupting the nurses’ work with something as irrelevant as a headache when they were busy with much more important things but he couldn’t handle the stinging pain inside his head anymore. On his way to the sickbay he felt his temples pulsating and in a brief moment of a haze, he bumped into someone.

“For God’s sake!” He heard a female voice and then a sound of papers landing all over the floor. “Major Cleven!” She scolded him.

Buck’s senses came back to him and he spotted a woman crouching on the floor, gathering the scattered papers.

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” he went on his knees as well to help her. “I’m sorry… I was on my way to the sickbay, I have an awful migraine,” he confessed.

“And you want to bother the nurses with it? When they’re patching up men with bullet holes?” She raised an eyebrow at him and he blushed, handing her the last paper off of the floor. She straightened herself and looked down at him with pity. “Come with me, I have aspirin in my office,” she offered him her hand and he took it to stand up as well.

He followed her to a small office next to the Colonel’s one and she gave him an aspirin from her desk’s drawer.

“Thank you, miss…” Buck stuttered out.

“(Y/L/N),” you introduced yourself.

“Are you perhaps family with Lieutenant (Y/L/N)?” Buck asked.

“Yes, he is my brother. We made sure to be assigned to the same place,” she nodded her head and he nodded his head.

“Thank you for the aspirin,” Buck said before walking out of her office.

This time he nearly bumped into Bucky.

“What is wrong with you today, man?” Bucky asked, worryingly.

“I have a migraine, doesn’t matter… I have aspirin already,” Buck showed him what he was holding in his hand. “(Y/L/N)’s sister gave it to me,” he explained.

“Stay away from her, you devil,” Bucky chuckled and Buck hissed at him. He was sure she could hear them. “I mean, for real, he’s a rough son of a bitch.”

“I know, I flew with him,” Buck chuckled. “He’s one of a kind.”

“Yeah, so if you don’t want to lose those pearly white teeth of yours, stay away from his sister,” Bucky teased.

However, it was not so easy to stay away from her. Perhaps the fact she was a sister of one of his friends was making it a bit more tempting as it felt forbidden.

But she really was a pretty girl – a bit rough like her brother sometimes – but also very helpful and kind when you got to know her.

“I see you’re staring at my sister, sir,” (Y/L/N) grinned at Buck one evening when they were eating supper by the same table. Buck blinked a few times and stopped looking at (Y/N) sitting with her female friends before laying his eyes on his friend.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” he made up an excuse.

“It’s okay,” (Y/L/N) shrugged his arms and Buck’s eyes widened a little. “I mean, she’s my little sister, so you know… Not easy for me. But she has to start dating one day whether I like it or not. And you’re a good man, Buck. If there is one man around that base I’d accept her to be with, it would be you.”

“Surely you can’t be serious,” Buck was confused. He liked to look at her, yes. Sometimes he observed her. But he hadn’t actually been thinking of starting any relationship on the base. “I mean, we can die any day.”

“My sister’s a tough cookie, she can handle that,” (Y/L/N) shrugged his arms. “What I’m sayin’ is that if you find my sister pretty, then talk to her, goddamnit. You don’t hear such words often, am I right? That’s how much I trust you, Cleven.”

“Thank you…” Buck cleared his throat and looked at (Y/N) again. She was staring at him, too, with a teasing smile. Her brother waved at her and she rolled her eyes before turning around to giggle at something with her friends.

It was almost as if (Y/N)’s brother was a matchmaker between Buck and her. Soon enough they became a couple as everyone else on the base teased them about it. Buck was trying to always be a gentleman around (Y/N), though, fearing that (Y/L/N) would indeed punch him if he tried to get too touchy or too pushy with his sister. Back at home, he had won some boxing tournaments, so they said. Buck didn’t want to find out if it had been true.

On that day both Buck and (Y/N) were nervous as hell because Bucky and Lieutenant (Y/L/N) were up in the air together. Buck was sitting in his girlfriend’s office and helping her with filling the papers to keep their heads busy.

“Ow,” she hissed suddenly as he raised his eyes, worryingly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked at the sight of (Y/N) clutching her chest.

“Y-yes… Just some weird cramp around my heart, I don’t know…” She tried to sound as casual as always but her eyes wandered to her brother’s picture on a desk.

“You should tell a doctor about it. Heart matters are no joke,” Buck was not satisfied with her answer.

“No, it’s different, baby, it’s not… Nevermind,” she sighed and her lower lip trembled a little. She bit on it and went back to filing the papers to keep her head busy.

About an hour later, Buck heard familiar noises from the outside.

“They’re coming back,” he stood up rapidly. “I’ll go and check. Wanna go with me?” He offered her his hand but she shook her head.

“N-no, I’d rather stay here,” she admitted.

Buck nodded and hurried out of her office to go outside and watch the planes land. He was relieved to see Bucky’s one but he couldn’t find the one with (Y/N)’s brother on board.

Nervously, Buck approached Bucky as his friend was jumping out of the plane.

“That was fucking hell!” Bucky looked exhausted but he grinned. “You’re a lucky bastard that you weren’t there!”

“What about (Y/L/N)?” Buck asked seriously and Bucky’s face frowned in an instant.

He shook his head as Buck’s heart skipped a beat.

“What do you mean?”

“Listen, the plane, it went down…” Bucky explained nervously.

“Any parachutes?”

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Bucky shook his head. “I mean, it happened so fast. They just… They blew up in the air. I doubt they even had time to grab any parachutes.”

Buck only nodded and turned around to walk back inside the base. He wanted to be the one telling (Y/N) about her brother’s death but he had no idea how to do it. He grieved his friends but his heart was also breaking for his girl and for the pain she would feel now. He wished he could take that all on him but it was impossible.

When he carefully entered her office again, she was already sobbing. There was no way someone had told her before the interrogation, though. He looked at her questioningly.

“He’s not back, am I right?” She hid her face in her hands and Buck’s eyes widened before he approached her to put his arms around her.

“How did you know?” He only asked and she let out a cry. She wrapped her arms around him and took a deep breath in.

“I just knew… I felt it, back then… I tried to tell myself it was not true but I just knew,” she admitted and Buck caressed her back.

After a while of holding her close and letting her cry out all the tears as she trembled in his arms, (Y/N) moved away slightly to look at Buck’s face.

“Maybe he’s just MIA?”

Oh, how he wished to be able to feed her with such hope. But there was none and there was no point of lying. Although her eyes were practically begging him to.

“Do you want the truth?” He swallowed thickly. He hated seeing her like that.

“No need. I already know,” she sobbed again and hid her face in the crook of his neck. “God, Buck, how will I even tell it to my parents?”

Buck didn’t say anything. There were no words. He only held her close and kept caressing her back and arms to comfort her.

Time passed and they just stayed like that. At some point, Colonel Harding opened the door and froze at the sight.

“She already knows,” Buck whispered and the Colonel nodded before leaving quietly.

Buck was sitting on the bed and watching (Y/N) going through her brother’s things quietly. He was there for emotional support because there was nothing else he could do except for just being there and it was killing him that he couldn’t do more.

“This I’ll send back home, this I’ll keep here with me,” she was mumbling as she rummaged through her brother’s personal belongings. She suddenly turned around with a smile on her face wet from tears. Buck furrowed his brows. “No comment at that,” she chuckled sadly and threw a few condoms at her boyfriend. “You can give them to Bucky,” she sniffled and went back to looking at her brother’s things.

Buck chuckled sadly, too. He hid the condoms in his pocket. He would give them to Bucky later indeed. (Y/L/N) and Bucky had loved to brag to each other about their adventures with women.

“Weird,” (Y/N) turned around and handed Buck an envelope. “It’s for you,” she said.

Buck caressed the paper delicately as he read the message written on it.

Give to Buck Cleven if I go down

“Are you sure you want me to read it?” Buck looked at his girl.

“What do you mean? It’s addressed to you,” she answered, confused. “It’s weird but that’s how it is.”

“Perhaps you’d like to read it first?” Buck wanted to make sure. It felt odd to have a letter from her dead brother waiting for him like that.

They had become close these past few weeks but it was not like they had been best friends.

“Just open it. Or not, it’s your decision. The letter is addressed to you,” (Y/N) shrugged her arms and went back to looking through her brother’s things.

Buck’s hands shook a little as he tore the envelope open and took out a note from it.

Buck, if you’re reading this, it means I went down. A possibility I’ve always considered. If there's one pilot out of us all who will survive this whole thing, it’s gonna be you. We both know it, don’t deny that. I sincerely hope you’re gonna be lucky enough and my sister will want to marry you one day. But for now, no matter what happens next, please take care of her. I made sure to be assigned to the same place she was being sent to. I promised our mother to look after her and now that’s a promise I cannot keep anymore. Please, do it for me. I am no man of words. As you can probably see… Ha ha ha. So that’s it, old man. Tell my baby sister that I love her and that I’m going to look after her from the other side. Sincerely, (Y/L/N). PS When you two have a son one day, it would be nice if you named him after me. Just a suggestion…!!!

“And?” (Y/N) turned around to check on Buck. “Oh, baby, what is it?” She asked when she saw tears in his eyes. “What did he say?”

“You can read it,” Buck handed her the letter and she sat next to him, holding the paper in shaking hands.

He watched her reading it as her eyes also filled with the fresh tears.

“I’m going to miss him so much… What will I even do without him?” She asked after giving Buck the letter back. Her voice was oddly calm as if she finally started to realise what had truly happened.

“He’s still here. Watching over you. That’s what it says here,” Buck pointed at the letter. “I take very seriously what he wrote,” he assured her and put his arm around (Y/N) to bring her closer and kiss her forehead. “Every word,” he added.

“I just want you to promise me one thing, Gale,” (Y/N) hugged him tighter.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Don’t leave me in this world like he did.”

Buck took a deep breath in. It was a promise he wanted to give more than anything but he couldn’t. All he could say was that he would try his best. But that was not what she wanted to hear. Perhaps she needed a little lie.

“I will not,” he said. “I promise.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#euryno-j47 #sansaorgana: Answered #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

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fanaticsnail · 20 days

Text

Pretty Red Ribbon

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 2,700+

Synopsis: After your birthday was ruined last year at the hands of a certain pink-feather-donning, glasses-wearing gentleman who you love to hate, your fellow warlord, Sir Crocodile, gives you a little gift you did not expect to darken your doorstep.

Themes: Doflamingo x f!reader, birthday, enemies to lovers, nsfw themes, suggestive content, not explicit - but mdni just in case, warlord!reader, platonic crocodile x reader, dom!reader x sub!doflamingo, gendered terms used

Notes: I had been wanting to write for Doflamingo for a while, and the art by @wesaier gave me the final shove that I needed to get it done. (Their Rosinante also has me in a chokehold. I adore their work. Also, happy birthday!) First time writing a proper fic-length for Doffy before his series.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @vespidphoenix @mfreedomstuff

The soft growl of the den-den-mushi atop your kitchen bench began rattling and humming in an awakened dance. The steam from the scorching water in the kettle whistled in unison to the rumbling call, the rattle of teacups on trays causing your attention to pull in a variety of directions in your large kitchen.

“I’ll get it, Miss,” your employee called from the corner of the room, his body carrying his vast height towards the den-den in three lengthy strides. He picked up the transponder end of the snail, elevating the mouth and earpiece to his face. Thanking him with a smile, you returned to continue readying yourself a cup of your desired tea.

“You really shouldn’t be making this for yourself, Miss,” your lady’s maid addressed you over your shoulder, “You employ us to take care of you and your needs. You should let us do our jobs and spoil you, especially on a day like today-.”

“-And that will be the last I hear about anything regarding ‘today’, Dinah,” you scolded her with a playful wink, “It’s just another day, and I would like to have it remain as such,” you moved the loose-leaf strainer in your teapot, collecting the remnants of the scorched leaves and discarded them, “Besides, I always love being in the kitchen with you all after another stupid meeting at the world-government headquarters. They always seem to gather any excuse to call us all in: exercising their rights as masters and holders of the tight leash. Absolute bastards, the lot of them.”

“And we adore you down here, Miss,” Dinah lulled her head on your shoulder and laced her hands around your midsection, “We love the gossip about the other warlords, and we always enjoy hearing about your day. You take such good care of all of us, but I think we all just wish you’d let us celebrate your birthday-.”

“-Absolutely not, Dinah,” you giggled at the younger woman embracing you, unlacing her hands from your waist and collecting your teacup and saucer from the tray you had prepared, “Last time I attempted to celebrate this day, I was held up for a multitude of times because that stupid Donquixote continued to ask stupid questions that had the meeting at the marine base go overtime. Missed reservations, didn’t make it to check in time at the homestead - and didn’t even get to enjoy that bottle of wine I ordered for myself. I swore that would be the last time I attempted to celebrate, and that’s that.”

“Just because your last birthday was ruined last year doesn’t mean you should swear them all off, Miss,” your handmaid smiled at you, “We’d adore making you feel special if you’d let us. Today is free of Donquixote Doflamingo, after all.” You growled at just the mention of his name, feeling your disdain elevating in your throat as a sour bile.

“I despise that tall pelican man. I loathe him, hate him even,” you confessed, prompting Dinah to huff a small laugh in response. You groaned out more frustrated admissions to your lady’s maid, “I would have him drawn and quartered, hung and splayed, whipped and chained. I could wring his neck and spit in his face if I knew the sick bastard wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m sure he would appreciate any scrap of your attention,” Dinah teased you with a sly tone, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “He seems to vie for your head to turn, by any means necessary.”

“He vexes me, torments me,” you continued, much to your handmaid's delight, “He needs to be knocked down a couple of pegs. Be made to crawl on all fours and beg like a dog-.”

“-Apologies for the interruption, Miss. I’m sorry to disturb your polite conversation,” the larger man holding the den-den-mushi to his ear held out the earpiece and transceiver to you, “Sir Crocodile is on the other end of the call. Says he has something for you.” You groaned out an exasperated breath before taking the shell into your hand.

“Thank you, Arturo. I’m sorry you had to hear that. I got a little fiery for a moment there,” you nodded to the man, who straightened his back before taking your saucer from your hands. He smiled down at you, moving to his place next to Dinah, anchoring his hips and leaning back against the sink with a smirk.

“What’s the call about?” Dinah whispered in a hushed rush to Arturo beside her.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Arturo hushed back his own scratchy whisper, attempting to hold back his laughter. You shot them both a sharp look, your smirk still drawn up on your pursed lips.

You raised the end to your ear and huffed out a sigh, calling into the piece, “Sir Crocodile? To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice gracing me today?” A rumble of silence purred through the receiver against your ear, a lengthy puff of smoke coursing through the grimace of the crocodilian man.

“I heard it was somebody’s birthday,” the rattle of his drawl taunted you through the crackled speaker. You shot your employees a dark look, prompting them to immediately spin on their heels and return to their duties. You groaned as you turned to face away from them, still holding the shell to your ear.

“Not a cause for celebration, Sir,” you purse your lips, examining your fingernails and cuticles, “But I appreciate your call regardless.” Your tone depicted your smile, truth spilling from your lips as you truly meant every word.

Sir Crocodile was your closest and oldest ally of all the warlords presented to you. You enjoyed sitting by him, both basking in the aura of one another. You held each other in the highest regard, you could even call each other ‘friend’ without it stretching too far out of the ordinary. What solidified your bond the most with one another was your complete and utter dislike for Donquixote Doflamingo.

“The appreciation is reciprocated, Highness,” Crocodile’s smirk purred through the receiver, “Which is why I decided to send you a little gift. Should be darkening your doorstep right about now.”

“Sir Crocodile, while I appreciate the sentiment,” you acknowledge his gesture with a kind and even tone, shaking your head as you take your den-den to the front door of your manor, “The only thing I really want is that feather-wearing asshole: stripped down, bound and gagged, on his lanky knees and looking up with his eyes all watery and pleading,” you reached the door, opening it and shrieking in shock as your eyes met with the gift presented before you.

His body was bound in a thick length of red ribbon, chest bare and hands bound behind his back in seastone cuffs. Pointed glasses lay askew on his face with his lips gagged by a ball strapped to his face. Drool gathered at the base of his chin, his glassy eyes looking up at your face with bewilderment. His bare chest was strangled beneath the red ribbon, his pants hanging limply over his hips as the top button and zipper exposed his slender adonis belt.

Lips falling slack, you almost dropped the shell from your ear as shock wrote itself over your features. Donquixote Doflamingo was bound, gagged and on his knees on your front doorstep: entirely at your mercy.

“I thought topping it with a pretty red bow would be too on the nose,” Sir Crocodile called over the mushi, “But he is apprehensively allowing himself to be on the receiving end of your retribution, given his disruption of your last birthday celebration.”

No words gathered in your mind, all thoughts racing as the wealthy Donquixote continued to hold his gaze against your own. His lips trembled around the gag, his brow triangulating in an upward peak as he darted his eyes between yours to gauge your intent.

He had no idea what possessed him to accept this little adventure, and he did not remember agreeing to be cuffed, gagged and without his entourage. As he witnessed the wicked streak spark within your eyes, he truly had no idea what you were going to do with him like this. Without a whisper of admission to it, he truly did everything in his power to gain your attention and hold it for as long as he could. He’d go through great lengths to be subject to your steely gaze.

Ruining your birthday last year was when he felt he truly went too far. You kept your private life quiet for the most part, only a select few were privy to the knowledge of your innermost thoughts. When he was made aware by Sir Crocodile how far he managed to spoil the occasion, he was given a choice by the cigar-smoking gentleman: “Your left hand, or to be subject to her mercy?”

He thought he made the appropriate choice.

Evidently, he did not know the extent Sir Crocodile was going to take his punishment.

“Do you like your gift, Highness?” the voice cracked through the receiver after several moments pause, “Or would you like to return it? Got one in a similar shade and style?” You giggled into the mouthpiece, prompting Sir Crocodile to chuckle his own sinister laughter.

“I think I’ll keep it,” you purred, holding your eyes half-hooded as you reached your index finger down to swipe the collected drool from his chin. Doflamingo whimpered as you hooked your finger beneath his jaw, prompting him to fall forward and lean into your touch, “How long do I have it for?” you hovered your face above his, uttering a final question, “And in what condition should I intend to keep it in?”

“Your prerogative, Highness,” Sir Crocodile confessed, drawing up a large breath of smoke in his mouth and exhaling, “Use him, abuse him, torment him, torture him: he is yours to play with for the next fourty-eight hours. Happy birthday, Dear.” At the final utterance, Sir Crocodile clicked the end of the receiver off: leaving your snail to crackle its muffled voice shut.

You hummed in deep thought, gazing down your nose at the tall man who, even on his knees, is nearly at eye height. Moving his face in your hands, you clicked your tongue as one would when examining an object intended for purchase. He whimpered further when your hands began exploring his torso as you circled his body. Your fingertips felt like lightning on his skin, igniting his expectations and triggering his wanton intrigue.

“If I remove the gag and seastone cuffs,” you whisper into his ear, trailing your fingertips down his spine, “Will you behave yourself, pelican?” He nodded frantically, lulling his head back on his shoulders to bring himself closer to you. You hummed in thought, hooking your fingers over the material tugging the gag over his lips.

“Feel better?” you asked him, maneuvering around his body to face him once again, “Less restricted and more of your repulsive self?”

Taking a moment to roll his tongue in his mouth to regain the sensation, he felt himself relax into your touch as you loosened the cuffs. He moaned as your hands caressed his wrists to reignite the blood flow swelling down into his fingertips.

“Always so kind,” Doflamingo commented with his signature smirk rising to his lips, “Do you ever grow tired of being so good all the time?” His eyes searched yours, still unsure of how you were going to respond to him on his knees.

“Would you prefer if I were cruel to you?” you arched your brow up and lowered your tone, “Abused you for my own sick entertainment?”

“You could choke me, flog me, spit in my face - better yet, in my mouth,” Doflamingo listed, his pupils blown with lust beneath his pink glasses, “You could step on me, rake me over nails and hot coals, and all I would say is: ‘thank you for a scrap of your attention’. It is your day, after all.”

“Obsessive and excessive, Donquixote,” you scolded him, tugging at the red ribbon constricting his chest to have him rise to his feet and follow you into your manor, “Why must you always provoke me?”

“Because I want you,” he whispered after you, a small whine in his voice as he followed closely behind you. His heavy feet trotted like a prized pony after you, allowing you to lead his body throughout the halls to your manor, “I want you so badly. I want all of your attention, all of your focus. I want to be at the very center of your universe, by any means necessary.”

Making eye contact with Arturo and Dinah, both of which shot you quizzical looks as Doflamingo pranced behind you attached to a line of red ribbon. You shot them both a look to forbid them from uttering a single phrase in questioning you, prompting them to hold up their hands in defense.

“Should I bring you your tea, Miss?” Arturo called after you as you exited the frame of the door to the kitchen, “Perhaps a couple of glasses of wine?”

“Perhaps later, Arturo. I’ll send for you if I need you,” you mentioned over your shoulder.

As you looked behind you, there was a foreign expression painted over Donquixote Doflamingo’s face. His cheeks were tinted with a pink dust, his eyes glassy and eyelids half-closed and gazing at you through thick, blonde eyelashes. His signature smirk was replaced by a dumbstruck, goofy smile and his giddiness adamant in each of his pepped steps.

Scoffing and rolling your eyes at him, you lead him into the master suite of your manor and force him to kneel in the center of the room. You took a seat on your plush armchair and gaze at him disinterestedly. He was all but vibrating in anticipation for your next movement.

“Anything to say for yourself, Donquixote?” you purse your lips crossing your legs by hooking your right knee over your left and rocking your foot at him. He crawled forward on his knees, hypnotized beneath your cold stare. Eyes meeting with yours, his lips fell agape in a perfect circle as your foot met with his chest to halt his movement.

Looking down at your heeled shoe, he bowed low enough to brush his forehead in a deep nuzzle against your shin, rocking his head to the side and attempting to become the very picture of innocence. You leant forwards, removing his glasses from his face and glaring into his expressive eyes with a wicked glint.

“Go on, pet,” you spat down at him, “Unless you have nothing intelligible to offer me in conversation.” He pressed his lips against your shin, grazing his mouth up your legs and inadvertently slotting himself between your knees.

“Happy Birthday,” he uttered against your skin, pressing a lengthy kiss against your right knee and integrating his entangled self between your legs further, “And I apologize for ruining the one prior.” Peppering kisses over your knee and up your thigh, his tongue flicked out over your flesh and swirled against you.

Patience wearing thin, you redraw your right foot back over his chest and nudge him backwards to look into his eyes. Your lips curled into a snarl, eyes narrow and accusatory as you gnash your teeth at the tall blonde on his knees in front of you.

“If you want my forgiveness, Donquixote Doflamingo,” you whisper in a warning tone, danger written over your features enough to cause the large man to shudder beneath your wicked stare, “Beg for it.”

Forty-Eight hours was more than enough time for Doflamingo to become a begging, pleading, whimpering mess beneath your skilled and expert hands. His mind fell blank, his body not experiencing the amount of sensory overload and sensory deprivation with a partner in encounters prior.

He was always the one in control, him only ever taking and taking to provide himself the pinnacle of pleasurable experiences. To be the one out of control, to simply have to take what he was given with his mind vacant of all thoughts aside from being subject to your desires.

The only things he continued to manage to befall from his lips were three phrases: “I’m sorry,” “thank you,” and “forgive me.” Just how you wanted him: complacent, dumbstruck, and all wrapped up in a pretty red ribbon.

#one piece #x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #one piece doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x f!reader #doflamingo suggestive content #sir crocodile #warlord!reader #op doffy #doffy #doffy x reader

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florenceafternoon · 5 months

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Another one because I'm on summer break and spend my days reading about how it's them in every universe. Like the last one, this post is for AU fic recs but I made this post for fics set in the canon universe.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

At The Beginning by @inthe-afterglows

Historical AU in which "Lily's life is changed forever when she takes a morning stroll through the woods and ends up in 1745 - two hundred years in the past."

Or an Outlander / Anastasia AU

Love, love love! Do yourself a favour and listen to Timeless when reading this. I can not express with words how much I loved this one

Faint Hearts and Fair Ladies by @thejilyship

Historical AU where "Sir Lupin heroically gets the royal family out of a castle under siege. Now the three royals and their knight find themselves running for their lives through the forest. James and Lily's tenuous relationship will be tested, as secrets come out and emotions run high."

Or a Robin Hood AU in which they strive to do better

It's got a well-rounded plot and great world-building with incredible characterisations. The interpersonal communication between James and Lily does a great job of acknowledging how James, while being physically present was emotionally absent. The author explores his grief and makes it a point to note that while it explains his behaviour, it doesn’t excuse it. Despite this, through it all, I was rooting for them. Also, the relationship between the Black brothers was so well written. All of the side characters felt valuable to the story and were dynamic. Overall a really good read! Shout out to big brother Harry and baby Gracie ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Fighting the Odds also by @/thejilyship

Hunger Games AU

In which Moody as Haymitch Abernathy is the greatest casting of all time.

certain sharp things by @thequibblah

Historical AU in which "all the other customary marks on James’s body have been made either aboard his ship, his fear abated by cheap spirits, or in foreign ports. But this, they all said, this, his promotion to captain, this deserves ink from the Portsmouth tattooist’s hand."

Or a tattoo shop AU but make it Regency

holy the air, the water, and the fire; also by @/thequibblah

Avatar AU set against a regency backdrop.

Emphasis on the tag "Big-time Matchmaker Euphemia Potter"

An Alliance with an Earl by fluffernutter8 (on ao3)

Regency AU. "Years after she initially rejected his proposal, Lily Evans finds herself in a situation where James Potter, Earl of Gryffindor, can be of help."

In which Frank Longbottom, accidental matchmaker, is grateful for his very nice bottle of brandy

AO3 is Down by @annabtg

AO3 Status: Delayed emails have been sent out and the Archive is back! Thank you so much to our sysadmin james_ for interrupting his sleep to work on and monitor the situation.

Inspired by this very real Tweet, an alternate universe where the sysadmin is James Potter, and Lily Evans is his supervisor who had to drag him out of bed so he could resolve the problem.

The fact that this came on my dash when archive last crashed -

Golden Love by GwenMontrose (on ao3)

Olympics AU. "Paris 2024. Lily Evans, English tennis star, is ready to face the highest challenge of her career and finally fulfil the dream of winning a gold medal at her first Olympics. Now, if only a certain handsome swimmer wasn't set on wreaking havoc in her life, everything would be very much smoother..."

all the time in the world by @eemolu

Uni AU. "Three seconds. That was how long Lily let herself consider the thought of it, before she pushed it away and forced herself to think of something, anything else. One, there was his mouth, obviously, his lips and how they were slightly chapped and definitely capable of driving her mad by the words that came out of them so she could only imagine what else they could do. Two, his shoulders were broad and he insisted on wearing those stupid threadbare T-shirts so she could see the planes of his chest move beneath them when he laughed or stretched or did anything at all, because apparently she was dealing with some kind of Greek marble statue. Three, his hands, and there was no justification she could give to herself for why they transfixed her that couldn’t be seen with one look at them. And that was three, and she was done."

To quote the notes "james potter is hot and I am looking respectfully."

can you play me a melody by @/ eemoul

Modern (band) AU. James sat in the backseat and tried not to stare. This girl was beautiful. The red hair, the green eyes she’d narrowed at him in the rearview mirror. Not to mention the music she was playing, old folk songs he hadn’t heard since he was a child, and louder than he was used to. People usually turned it down so they could talk about James, and who they knew who loved him, and how he should be living his life better. This girl simply drove, and was beautiful.

I'll be cleaning up bottles with you by k_tron (on ao3)

Muggle modern AU where getting drunk at a new years eve party leads to voicing repressed emotions

fainting for you by dhpanya10 (on ao3)

Modern muggle AU. A meet-ugly in which “you just fainted right in front of me please you need to drink more in this heatwave, and oh wow, it turns out you’re also unfairly pretty/handsome when you aren’t passing out on me”

Namecheck for a Bet by MyThirdGuess (on ao3)

‘So, I know that there are many fans out there wondering, and speculating, where the name of my album came from. I feel like I owe them an explanation, especially considering it just won an award.

‘Gryffindor was the name of my house at the boarding school I attended, and I lost a bet when I was sixteen that if I ever released an album, I would show true house pride and name it after Gryffindor.

‘If you think that’s good, just wait. I lost another bet a year later that I would namecheck four people if I ever won an award. So, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter… this is your namecheck.’

barry, bond, and the blues by @oyprongs

"He and his friends beeline for the rock section, which is strategically placed up front, directly in her eye line. She gets a closer look at him, this way. Messy hair, a strand or two curling behind his specs. The lean shoulders of a boy still in the midst of filling out his frame. Long fingers flicking through the bin of records, the light snick sound filtering through the hum of the fan blowing by her ear."

As someone currently on summer holidays, the vibes in this are immaculate. I recommend listening to Jackie and Wilson while reading this.

Polaroid Muse by DeepWatersWaiting (on ao3)

Modern AU. "At a party with Sirius' art friends, James finds himself unexpectedly becoming the subject of someone's polaroid camera."

Because english literature student james potter is everything

Accidental Reindeer by AidanChase (on ao3)

Lily's holiday plans are cancelled, but luckily -- or unluckily -- her least favourite coursemate from university has invited her to his parent's home in the countryside. He just neglected to mention is parents' grand Christmas gala is actually an ugly jumper party.

Just Pretend by sunshinemarauder (on ao3)

Fame AU. In "Five times actors Lily Evans and James Potter kissed for the cameras, and one time it was unmistakably on purpose."

Andrew Garfield Would Never by Yerawizardbec (on ao3)

“Actually, that's where you're wrong McKinnon, from my extensive field research into the male species, I have concluded that Andrew Garfield would never treat you that badly,” Hestia declared, semi-seriously.

“Oh my god, you're so right, Andrew Garfield would never,”

3 Godrics Row also by @/ Yerawizardbec

Legal AU, written by an actual solicitor - Lily Evans was described by the Legal 500 as 'a breath of fresh air’ and ‘the future of the family bar’ but that didn't matter as she stumbled through the front doors of the Court, 30 minutes later than she had anticipated to. After a stressful, horrendous day, Lily finds herself in a bar with a handsome stranger; she hadn't planned on ever seeing him again, but then he pops up in the last place she ever expected to see him, and she can't help but admit, she might just be falling for James Potter, but does she know who he really is?

PHENOMENAL. I am in desperate need of more jily legal AUs so if anyone has any recs, please share

Two Blind Dates by @moonawrites

Lily has had her fair share of good dates, bad dates, dead boring and dead-end dates. But she has never, in all her life, been on a date and had him say, “This might sound insane, but I think you’re my best mate’s soulmate.”

A Happy Accident by @chierafied

James could never have imagined what a little slip of a tongue during a TV show interview might lead to...

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant?

Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

Or a fake-dating AU in which Petunia is Bridezilla

A classic idiots in love

Mixed Impressions (requires an ao3 account) by @charmingwillow

Modern AU. The first time James Potter met Lily Evans he decked her with a day old, soggy waffle. Things don't go well from there... until they do.

TW: grieving parents

Don't ask me how this works but it's like a slice-of-life but with angst (the ambivalence I know).

#jily fic rec #jily #jple #lily evans #james potter

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corpsebasil · 5 months

Note

I'm sorry but knight! Nikolaï got me hORNY—

So just think about it: like, kinda a corruption kink but the other way around? The Princess being very, VERY MUCH INTO HIM and being like "damn Imma bang that man"

And Knight Nikolaï being loyal to his duties so he's trying to not understand or see her advances, but god damn his patience and will to stay professional are wearing thin just like the clothes of the princess seems to gradually become around him uhuh

ARGBLBLBLB HAND ME THE HOLY WATER RIGHT NOW

Dear mother above—

^^^ me and you walking to his room.

Sir Nikolai isn’t a man that is unused to being fawned over. Women and men alike—nobles, citizens, who gives a shit—all want him. The man is literally sex on legs just LOOK at him. LORD.

The one person he’s surprised to find attracted to him, though, is you. Your royal highness. Aka the princess of Ravka and his personal charge. He takes his role of protecting you extremely seriously. He does a security sweep practically every time you enter a room. He keeps his eye out for any possible threats, always a step behind you. Always.

Yes he finds you pretty—who doesn’t—but the idea of sleeping with you goes against every moral fiber of his being.

It starts small when you realize you aren’t going to get your way with him at first.

DRABBLE UNDER THE CUUUUT

Oh god he’s so beautiful anyways—

“Sir Nikolai.”

“Princess.”

You’re watching him from one of the chairs in your sitting-room as he works, sorting through some documents as you’re supposed to be reading. You literally cannot focus.

The rustling of papers and the occasional shift of his body in his chair are the only sounds occupying your rooms as of now and, to your chagrin, you can’t stop staring at his hands. The way his fingers run over the documents, the way he licks his thumb quickly to flip a page, good God.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, not even sparing you a glance as he works. You scowl.

“I am not.”

He raises one eyebrow and you slump lower in your seat, face hot.

You’ve had a crush on your personal guard since pretty much forever and you know that he knows. He finds it entertaining to tease you sometimes; he’ll find excuses to help fix your hair, he holds your hand a bit longer than necessary when escorting you out of a carriage, and he especially enjoys the look on your face when you see him flirting with other women of the court.

I picture his grin like this.

Also Elliot Knight is fucking gorgeous.

He just smiles at you from across the room and goes straight back into his conversation.

You know from gossip around the court that he’s an absolute god in bed. The maids—those damn gossips—all giggle and blush as they whisper about a night with him or someone they know, their voices not quiet enough to stop you from picking up a few details while they clean.

You want him. You want him so bad it makes you look STUPID.

If you’re going to get this man on top of under, behind, down low, up high, all the positions you then you’re going to have to start being a little bolder, sweetheart. You start small: staring more openly and forcing yourself not to look away when caught. Brushing against him when you walk by just to have an excuse to be close to him. Making comments out of the blue about how you’re just so bored and touch deprived.

Poor you.

He catches on instantly.

“Princess.” He starts one evening, watching you as you approach him clad in one of your adorable nightgowns that leave nothing to the imagination. Picture Aelin’s gold nightgown, HA. His teeth are grit so tightly that he can actually feel his jaw hurt as you walk by. “Where is your robe.”

Not a question. He knows exactly where your robe is because you left it on his bed after sneaking quickly through the shared door in your chambers. He’d made the mistake of telling you he’d be right back and you took your chance. You’d be giggling like a fiend when he knocked just now, eyes dark and expression unamused.

He didn’t bring the robe, though. Oddly enough.

“It’s too hot for a robe right now.” You lie, ignoring his annoyed stare as you pour yourself a glass of bourbon from a decanter. “Besides, this dress is new. Don’t you like it?”

“You forgot the rest of it.”

“This is the newest style!” You argue, grinning to yourself as you feel him watch your back. The material is thin as hell and Saints you look fucking magical in it.

Meanwhile Nikolai, behind you, is feeling warmer and warmer the longer you fix yourself a drink. His eyes roam across your bare skin, his blood burning in his veins as he watches the slight sway of your hips. He can imagine running his hands along those long legs of yours, skin soft under his fingers.

How responsive would you be for him? Would you be loud or quiet? Calling out his name or only gasping and whining for him? Would you let him kiss your thighs before he buries his mouth between your legs? Would you let him bend you over his desk or set you on top of it?

Lord have mercy—

He licks his lips thoughtfully as he continues his observations. Surely you’re taking longer on purpose so that he can stare.

The clink of the glass hitting the counter snaps him from his fantasies before he realizes he’s been caught blatantly checking out your ass with his mouth hanging open a fraction.

Shit.

Your smile is devious and proud when you turn to face him, leaning slightly back against the table to meet his eyes.

“Something wrong, Sir?”

“Princess.” He clears his throat and glances up at the ceiling for a moment. “This isn’t appropriate.”

“I’d hope not.” You snort. You walk towards him and he stays still, every inch of him tense. He doesn’t look away as you tilt your head, chin lifted up to his in offering. He doesn’t take the bait.

“Princess.” He grits out. “Please. Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

“I’m not doing—”

But you shut up when his hand reaches out to snatch your wrist in an iron grip, your fingers hovering barely an inch away from his chest. The gap in his loose shirt reveals smooth, golden skin, your fingertips frozen.

You glance up with a tiny gasp and he’s watching you, his eyes darker and more serious than before.

“I cant let you start anything.” He breathes, hand tightening on your arm. “Not like this. Not with me.”

“Why?” You question, face falling as you look up into his eyes. “Why not?”

“You’re jail bait, kid.”

“What does that mean—”

“Your father would kick my ass if he saw me with you. You know that.” You huff through your nose and attempt to pull away but he holds fast. “Y/N,” he starts and your heart aches. Not ‘Princess’, Y/N. “you have no idea the things I’d do to you.”

You freeze as his head lowers a fraction, nose barely touching yours. Your breaths are unsteady as he tucks your hair behind an ear, hand framing your face.

“You’d never want to leave my bed.” He adds and the ache shoots from your heart to right between your legs. “The things I’ve thought about you.” He closes his eyes and, after a beat, whispers a quiet ‘fuck’ before practically tearing himself away from you.

You don’t even have time to protest before he’s heading back to his rooms and shutting the door behind him.

Ughhh OAJAOSK I NEED HIMMMM

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #knight nikolai lantsov #sir nikolai lantsov #sir Nikolai

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sunnyy3d · 4 months

Note

Hi again

Ok so I am currently obsessed with Matt smith and Alex Kingston so I wanted to know if you would write a 11th/river/reader fanfic where the reader is a companion that just started travelling with them but for some reason she is immortal and always finds them but she doesn’t totally understand how the meeting keeps happening between them all so she just jumped from a new tune where she was happily married to the doctor and river but now she meets river/melody who doesn’t know her yet and she gets jealous bc she over heard them talking about another girl(her just younger) and it leads to the doctor having to explain to her that they aren’t at that time yet and river gifts her a journal so she can write down where and how they keep meeting hopefully this makes enough sense and you would want to write it I just want some fluff/cuteness along with confusion on time travel

Timeless Love| 11th Doctor x River x Reader

A/N: Requests open! (Obviously)

God, I'm so nauseous. Will I ever get used to that? I really wish that I had my own TARDIS; it'd be so much better than a vortex manipulator. The Doctor calls it "cheap and nasty time travel," and he's not wrong. Of course, I'll never let him know that, though.

I let the dizziness subside before opening my eyes. I'm facing a wall? I've gotta go through the checklist. Okay, first is smell. It smells... old? Like antiques and dust. Why is smell first anyway? The second is hearing. I hear sirens, which leads to the next part: sight. To go with the sirens, I see a red flashing light coming from a bulb farther up the wall. That's always a good sign! Last but not least, the 360. Well, it's more like a 180, but that's beside the point. I spin only to find a gun pointed at my head. My smile immediately drops, the excitement of being in a new environment being replaced with dread. What have I gotten myself into this time?

"Oi, don't touch the fez! Wait, no, don't take it," I hear from behind the brute holding the gun.

"Don't listen to him. Please take the fez," I'd recognize those voices from anywhere. Especially the sarcasm... It only makes sense that they're around when I find myself in trouble. I can't let myself get distracted; this is a life-or-death situation. Just do what The Doctor taught you. Be rational and observe.

Peering past the gun, I see a creature I've never seen before in my time with The Doctor. This thing is enormous, at least a foot or two taller than me. They (it?) have on a suit of armor--similar to what would be found back on Earth-- that obscures its face. Maybe it's a security guard? It would make sense, considering that behind it are glass cases that hold artifacts.

Regardless, this creature's sheer size means I can't fight it. At least not successfully. That throws all of the self-defense skills River taught me out of the window. I really wish she was here. Oh wait... she is. I'll just have to play the innocent card. It shouldn't be hard, considering that I am innocent. I put my hands up beside my head as a sign of surrender, careful to go at a speed that's not threatening. "I just got here, I swear. I have no idea what's going on," I reason. I have a feeling that it's not gonna work well.

"Oh, look who it is! Where have you been?" Looking past the guard, I spot The Doctor and River being led in by another guard.

I sigh, "It's not what it looks like."

"It's exactly what it looks like!" The Doctor interrupts with his stupid smile.

"Honey, can you shut please? I kinda have a gun in my face right now," I plead.

"Oh right..."

"Excuse me, sir?" River distracts the guard in front of me.

"We're going to have to ask you to put that gun down. Darling, you might want to duck." Without even thinking, I follow her instructions. I trust River and The Doctor with my life. What kind of wife would I be otherwise? Being stuck between the wall and the fight, I have no choice but to crawl away.

I'm hiding behind one of the cases when The Doctor comes around the corner, disheveled and panting. It's a good look at him. His hair is messy before he runs a hand through it and flashes his signature smile. God, I could kiss him. But now's not the time. We're in the middle of a fight. I say we, but I really mean River. "What are you doing?" I yell.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Loud shots hit the walls around us. I peek around the corner and see two more guards have shown up as reinforcement.

A bullet flies past my head, and I quickly take my retreat behind the case. "Look! We'll have to save this conversation for after we get out of whatever situation you got us into this time. River needs help." The Doctor gives me an offended look.

"River does NOT need help, no thanks to you guys," she says sarcastically.

The Doctor and I come out from behind the case. "What are you guys even doing here?" I ask with my hands on my hips.

"Uhh... we're picking something up," The Doctor answers nervously. I nod, my lips drawing into a thin line as I give him a skeptical hum. It's probably not worth questioning, and I probably won't get a straight answer.

"And you are?" River questions, looking me up and down. Even after being with her for a while, I still get butterflies when she looks at me like that.

But the butterflies are scooped up by my confusion. "What do you mean, River? We've been-"

"SPOILERS," The Doctor interjects. "If you'll just give us a moment, please?" I nod as he drags River away. They huddle together with their backs facing me. Clearly, I'm not supposed to hear this conversation, but it doesn't stop me from trying. Unfortunately, they're just out of earshot, so I can only hear a few words.

Focusing on their conversation, I piece together some parts. "She's... beautiful... amazing... younger... she's like..." The Doctor explains with expressive hands. Occasionally, River glances back at me with a smile.

Who are they talking about like that? It has to be someone special. Why else would they keep it a secret from me? More importantly, why is River saying she doesn't know me? Has she had her memory wiped? Clearly, The Doctor knows who I am, but he's also acting weird. What has happened to our marriage? Did all of the intimate moments that we shared go down the drain? All the adventures forgotten?

I'm so lost in thought that it takes me a second to realize that they've finished their conversation and have started walking back towards me. I quickly stand straight, suddenly incredibly self conscious. I cross my arms and frown, "So, who's this mystery woman and why did you have to talk about her in secret?" I know my words reek of jealousy, but I can't help it. We've been married for so long, and yet here they are talking about some other woman.

The Doctor sighs, thinking about how he should respond. "We were talking about you. I know it might not make too much sense right now, but River and I aren't in the same timeline as you."

"This is actually my first time meeting you, I'm afraid. Though I'm sure it won't be the last," River looks me up and down with a smirk. I blush and look away. Even if this is her first time meeting me, she still has to flirt.

Everything is starting to make sense now. All of the times when The Doctor or River thought that they had done something with me but hadn't. Or when they'd forget simple things. It's not that they forgot; it just hadn't happened to them yet. Why didn't I think of this before? And why hadn't they explained this to me earlier? Why does time have to be so complicated?

"This happens all of the time with me and River. It's honestly quite annoying to figure out," The Doctor chuckles.

"You know, that actually makes a lot of sense. Things are starting to come together now. That explains why you guys are so confusing sometimes. Sorry, extra confusing sometimes." The couple laughs before River holds up her finger, saying hold on and grabbing her bag off her back. She rummages through it momentarily before letting out a small 'aha.' I look at The Doctor with my eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He only shrugs. River pulls out what she was looking for. I see a look of recognition flash across The Doctor's face before I can tell what it is.

"Here," she holds out a book. It's a royal blue and has squares on it like the TARDIS. It looks naturally worn, its deckled pages ready to hold a story. "I have a smiliar journal. I use it to keep track of my encounters with this idiot. Maybe you can do the same?" She suggests with a warm smile.

From this distance, I can see how young she is. Though she doesn't look much different, her eyes tell a different story. They have more youth to them, more innocence. Let's be honest: River has never truly been innocent. But she is more innocent than the River that I know best. I smile as I take the journal in my hands. It's perfect. It'll be easy to carry around, and it is absolutely gorgeous.

So much has yet to come for The Doctor and River, both terrible and happy. And even though I have lived through things that they haven't, they have lived through things that I haven't. This book will hold stories that cannot be shared with the ones I love the most. If I were to share it, it could ruin everyone's timeline. Time is a delicate balance of... wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey... stuff. Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the most eloquent I have been, but it'll have to do.

With a smile, I look up at my husband and wife (well, future for them), "Thank you. I have a feeling that I'll be using this a lot."

#x reader #fanfic #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor #river song x reader #river song #melody pond #doctor who #the doctor x reader #the doctor x river song #the doctor x river x reader #the doctor x you #river song x the doctor

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newcomernewcums · 1 year

Note

Ok but I can't stop thinking about Price covered in lipstick kisses.

Just, this man covered in red kisses 🥰

aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAA

SFW Captain Price x You (kiss time! nb!reader) :

• You don’t usually wear make-up, it’s a thing of convenience, more than anything. Just too much of a hassle on base, you don’t even have any in the barracks.

• You do, however, keep your bag in the sparse one-bedroom you rarely get to visit. So when you spend one of those few nights there, you’re dolling yourself up to do nothing.

• It doesn’t even pass your mind as you hear a knock on the door. You swing it open to see your captain, looking sheepish with a bag of take-out in his hand. An excuse. His eyes widen when he sees you, fingers going slack around the plastic take-out bag, almost dropping it.

• You two do this sometimes, both getting too lonely to handle leave. It had started after a breakdown, you sobbing that you couldn’t save everyone, and him wrapping you up in a hug before inviting you over to watch stupid movies and not think too hard.

• “Isn’t it past your bedtime, sir?” You ask. He chuckles, shaking himself out of his trance and pushes inside with a “I should be askin’ you the same thing,”

• It’s comfortable, if not unexpected, sitting on your couch with him watching TV. His arm is slung around the back of the couch behind you, occasionally asking about whatever show you chose. He doesn’t stop glancing over, though. Can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your face. It takes a couple minutes for you to break. Turning to meet his gaze and huffing out a “What? Do I have something on my face?”

• “Y-yeah,” you’ve never heard your captain stammer, “you’re ah…wearing make-up.” You pause, and then can’t stop the giggle that bubbles out of your throat. “You wan’t me to share?” You ask before you can stop yourself. It’s the look on his face that actually makes you do it though, the blush that rises high in his cheeks as he doesn’t say anything.

• Before you know it you’re leaning over, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. He chases you as you pull away, gives you a confused expression when you giggle again at the red staining his lips. Then you’re running to the bathroom, grabbing your lipstick and reapplying.

• He ends up with red kiss marks littering his face, right above his beard, his nose, next to his eye. He’s patient, allows you to have your fun and snap a picture before he’s hoisting you up and claiming your mouth as he walks to the bedroom. If you send the picture to Gaz, well, he’ll never know.

• You’re halfway through your eyeliner when you get the text, Soap inviting you out to drinks with the 141. A rare, but very exciting occurrence. You don’t think anything of it as you finish up your make-up, get into something a little more fun then you’d usually wear around the 141 and head out the door.

• It’s a good night, Soap meeting you with a “lookin’ bonnie” and a wink. The drinks are flowing, you quickly go from tipsy to drunk. It’s fine, you feel safe. Price doesn’t take his eyes off you for a second. Every time you look over, he’s already staring at you with an indecipherable expression.

• You’re coming out of the bathroom when he corners you, closer than necessary, alcohol on his breath. “Look nice,” he murmurs, hand sliding to the small of your back. There’s always been something between the two of you, glances shared, late night conversations that someone walked out before they became more. It’s not your fault that you lean into him, answering with a bashful “thanks,” as you wind your arms around his neck.

• You realize your mistake immediately, trying to rub the red off his lips and he chuckles. He elects to lead you out a back exit instead if going back and facing your team. His face ends up littered with kiss marks before you two reach your apartment.

#choose your own adventure #john price x reader #price x reader #captain price #ask #anon ask #now that i’ve cleared out my price asks… time to move into valentine’s?#god you guys just have such great ideas

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faejilly · 9 months

Note

it can be a fic or meta, but if you're feeling inclined i would love to know more about your opinions for how alec's family gifts in your headcanon would present with even more eldritch elements to it?

oh, I have so many feelings, thank you lovely. Pls enjoy my version of bb!Alec (who is still much too old for his age because he's Alec)

Alec hasn’t even been Marked, still technically a fledgling rather than a Shadowhunter, when he learns that most nephilim can’t hear their weapons sing.

There’s a man come to see his parents, an important man, a dangerous man. But not just in the way nephilim are supposed to be dangerous, though the rhythm of his steps make it clear he can fight as well as any other Shadowhunter Alec knows. There’s something else though, something beyond his skill, something that’s not explained away by the way everyone in the Institute all bow their heads to his titles, Consul and Warrior and Sir.

Alec can hear him, something humming under the man's skin almost like a seraph blade dreaming in its hilt but off-key, a discordant whine that makes Alec want to cover his ears but he knows that wouldn't help; the noise isn’t really a noise, he can feel it in his blood, between his bones, not in his ears at all.

He doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know what he should say, or to who, but he can’t let it go, it pushes in the back of his throat and it has to be let out.

He thinks if he tries to speak and it doesn’t work, the pushing will get worse, will hurt, will perhaps not let him stop, not ever again.

If that’s true, (it is true, he doesn’t know why or how, but it is, he knows, knowledge deeper even than the laws and runes he’s memorized from the Grey Book, the ones that make the power under his skin flicker and flare, waiting for the first Mark to settle it), he can’t do what his father would prefer, and tell his parents in private. He can't risk them choosing not to listen.

If he can’t be discreet, he has to go far enough the other way that he’s inevitable.

Luckily, the hum from the man is just enough that his seraph blade doesn’t like it either, hissing to itself in the hilt when it ought to be asleep, and Alec knows he can tell them about that. He’s worked with the Weapons Master, with his father, his favorite chore is tending to the adamas in the Institute's care.

So he waits outside the armory, plants himself in the middle of the hall when the man and his parents approach, makes sure the door to the armory is cracked so Master Amira will hear him too, might even come out and back Alec up, if he’s lucky.

He waits, and he doesn’t step back against the wall, and his mother is lifting a brow and his father’s mouth is too tight, neither of them impressed that he’s just there in the way like a mundane too stupid to move.

Before either of them can do anything, Alec falls forward, prostrating himself before the man, arms spread and forehead pressed to the tile, because there’s no way to say what he’s going to say without it being an insult, and this is the only way he’ll get the whole thing out before he’s in too much trouble to be allowed to continue.

The man’s footsteps don’t slow, and Alec realizes he’s going to just walk right past him, and he’s offended enough his chest burns, and he almost can’t feel the pressure in his throat anymore.

How dare he ignore a sign of supplication like that? He’s got worse manners than Izzy and no excuse for them at all.

“Consul.” He hears his mother’s voice, low but steady, and the footsteps stop.

She’s as offended as he is, Alec can tell, he can taste it in her voice, but no one else can ever taste her moods like he can, so he’s sure no one else knows. Yet.

But he does, and it’s enough. If she knew what he knew, she’d speak, and they’d listen, they’d have to.

So he’ll have to do as well as she would.

“Begging your forgiveness, sir.” Alec projects his voice as well as he can, for all he’s talking to the floor. He can’t raise his head, not even an inch.

The Consul doesn’t say anything, but neither does he move.

“Why do you not care for your blade, sir?”

There’s a shocked silence, and Alec can hear the weapons in the armory startle awake as his father reaches, and he can feel Master Amira’s axe-blades as she joins them in the hallway.

“What seems to be the trouble, sirs?” Master Amira’s voice is smooth and clean and Alec reminds himself to breathe.

“The Lightwoods are about to lose their heir,” the Consul answers, his voice tight and the hum beneath his skin twisting down a half a pitch, sharp and unpleasant, “unless they explain his behavior very quickly, and very well.”

“I do not think so.” His mother’s voice rises, as pure a tone as any Alec has ever heard from adamas and he realizes he has lifted his head to look at her, that everyone is looking at her, the pair of clerks who follow the Consul everywhere, someone in every doorway down the hall, a silhouette behind Master Amira he can’t quite identify; even in the glimpse he can get of the corner of Ops behind his parents, everyone has turned toward the sound of her voice. “You should answer him, Consul.”

The Consul’s eyes widen, and his shoulders go back, and that feeling of danger rises, rises, and then it’s cut off, a sharp clean silence as Alec’s father takes one, single, step, letting the heel of his boot hit the tile just so. “My son is a Lightwood.”

“Recognized and sworn before an Iron Sister, sir.” Amira adds, and Alec blinks, aware now of what the odd visit last year had meant, the woman in white who had laughed as if she wasn’t dressed for mourning, who had shown him her throwing daggers and grinned when he’d hit the target with them, and given him two pure slivers of adamas to keep, one for each boot.

The Consul has gone still, and his expression is unimpressed, but the hum changes pitch again, and his clerks look nervous, eyes moving too quickly for all they’ve kept their bodies still.

“Sir.” Robert speaks into the silence, and his voice is like nothing Alec has heard from him before. He’s still quiet, still deferential and polite in tone, but it’s sharp somehow, the glint of a knife as it is slowly pulled from a sheath, the light of a seraph blade the instant before it materializes. He’s not really asking a question. “Your answer.”

“My blade has been cared for by four generations of the Dieudonné line, his question is an insult to my bloodline that has earned no answer beyond contempt.”

“Then why is it crying?” Alec doesn’t lower his head this time, for all his neck aches from the angle required to look up at the adults surrounding him. “It is awake, sir, and in pain, and you are not soothing it.”

Master Amira makes an odd choked-off noise he’s never heard before, but the rest of the hall is silent, and the silence grows, deeper and thicker, until Alec realizes he’s looking at his mother again, that they’re all looking at his mother again.

“His words are True.” Maryse’s voice is a hiss, barely louder than the blade, yet it carries. Her voice fills the hallway, perhaps through to Ops as well, perhaps beyond; it feels to Alec like the whole Institute can hear it, this one soft note of revelation whispering between them all. Her voice still rings like a bell against something inside him, something he has no name for but recognizes as the weight behind that pressure in his throat, the balance in his blood that hears better than his ears. “You will answer, or you will be foresworn.”

“You cannot-” one of the clerks attempts to speak, but Master Amira snorts and they give up.

“My parents were very traditional.” His mother’s voice sounds normal now, calm and conversational. But it still tastes like copper to Alec, like blood, and the tension in the hallway doesn’t ease. He eases himself back and up until he’s kneeling. Until he’s ready. “When my brother was forsaken, they dedicated me to the Mortal Sword as the new Trueblood heir.” Maryse smiles, and Alec can feel everyone except his father move back, trying to get away from it. “I absolutely can.”

The Consul looks contrite, bows his head in apology, enough that Alec can feel the other adults relax, just a little.

But the hum beneath Dieudonné’s skin has turned into a scream, his seraph blade wails in grief and fury, and Alec is moving before he realizes it, one hand in each boot, a flick of each wrist, and two slivers of adamas go through the Consul’s throat before he can speak.

Shock holds them all still, the scream rises into a shriek, twists and throbs and fades, at last, though Alec can’t hold in the shudder while it lingers. The Consul’s eyes are still open, but darker than they were, than they should be, and blood is dripping from them as well as his throat, and his ears, and his nose.

He stays standing for too long, still and stiff, and then a drop of blood hits the floor, one, then another, and finally he sways, and falls. His mouth opens as he hits the ground, and a dark cloud rises from it, smelling of sulfur and steel and something green that Alec will recognize five years later the first time he handles angelbane.

The former Consul jerks, his joints moving wrong in his death-throws, something too sharp to each convulsion, something other.

“Fuck,” someone Alec doesn’t know breaks the silence two long heartbeats after the body stops moving. It’s only then that he sees the rune that has now appeared, a Circle just like Hodge’s, broken by twin spears of adamas piercing through it, one on each side.

No one moves for yet another heartbeat, and Alec can’t look away from the man on the ground, the man who clearly wasn’t just a nephilim, not anymore, not like the rest of them. The man he’d killed. He’d killed the Consul of the Clave, in front of witnesses, in the middle of the Institute, before his parents…

He can feel a shared look over his head more than he can see it, and then his mother’s hand is on his shoulder and his father is calling out orders and she’s leading him away and his footsteps are running to Ops and an alert alarm is sounding, one Alec can’t hear properly through the blood rushing through his ears, and he’s relieved when his mother takes them both to his room, and tucks him into bed, and shields his door with her personal rune as well as every warding rune he’s ever seen. He smiles at her in thanks, and lets himself go.

She’s there again when he wakes, and at first he can’t remember anything. He starts to move, and feels the tug of an IV, the rattle of the stand next to his bed shifting with his movement. He blinks, and his mother sighs. It sounds like relief, and he blinks again even as she moves close, reaches out and brushes his hair off his forehead.

“It’s been a long time since an heir manifested two blood gifts at once, especially before receiving his first Mark.”

Alec had opened his mouth to… he wasn’t sure, probably apologize for being lazy after committing murder and then not even cleaning the ensuing mess up himself, but that stops him. He shuts his mouth, swallows, blinks for a third time, trying to get his thoughts to line up into something more coherent than what?

“Is that what I did?”

His mother smiles, and it’s as far as possible from her expression in the hallway, warm and soothing and grateful. “That’s what you did.”

“Oh.”

He lets that sink in, lets the implications and conclusions and possibilities trickle their way through his thoughts. “Does that mean I’m not gonna be buried at a crossroads for killing the Consul?”

His mother winces, leans forward until her forehead rests against his, and he feels dizzy and lightheaded with something almost like joy as he recognizes what she’s doing as comforting, for both of them. “Oh baby, no.”

He closes his eyes and lets himself feel the weight of his mother being his mother before anything and everything else, and doesn’t even fight it when he feels his eyes getting wet and his skin flushing with relief and confusion and love and who knows what else.

“You will never be in trouble for what you did to Malachi.” That chime was back in his mother’s voice as she whispered against his skin, and it soothed him in a way nothing else could, resonating against his worries until they faded. “You saved the entire Clave from whatever he would have done in the Circle’s name, whatever he could have done to our Institute with the Curse Valentine had put in him when he was discovered. The Inquisitor is going through the entire Council, soul by soul, to make sure she finds them all, and it’s only because of you that she has the power to do it.”

Oh.

Eventually she lifts her head, and her eyes are damp too, he can see it when she blinks. “But you will have to go to the City of Bones and meet a Silent Brother and the Soul-Sword.” Her smile quirks, and he realizes there’s pride there in her expression, on top of a complex mix of emotions that don’t make any more sense than his own. “Though that might be less scary for you than it was for me at your age, if you can hear the Soul-Sword as well as you hear seraph blades.”

“I can hear all the weapons in the armory.” Alec corrects before he can think about it. “You can’t?”

His mother laughs, short and damp and beautiful. “Even your father can’t, and he’s the only Lightwood left who can call his weapons to him. You’ve got a stronger Blood-Gift than he does.”

“I do?”

His mother nods. “Your father asked me to tell you he’s sorry he didn’t tell you so earlier. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, either.”

What.

This entire conversation is so far outside of anything he’s ever felt before, and his bones feel too light-weight under his skin and he doesn’t understand. “Why?”

“Did you consider telling me or your father about what you heard from Malachi’s blade?”

Alec frowns, and his mother lifts a hand, palm facing him, stopping him before he can protest the change of topic. “I promise I’m answering your question, please.”

His parents apologized, and his mother said please to him, like she meant it.

He shook his head from side-to-side. “I knew you’d want me to, but.” He stops. He doesn’t know how to explain that feeling, that pressure that he still suspected would have broken him if he’d tried to speak the truth and been told to keep quiet. His mother’s fingers brush against the line of his throat, and his eyes widen as he stares up at her, as he sees a tear overflow and slowly slide down her cheek as she nods, just a little, and he realizes she knows exactly what he’s not saying.

“We taught you we couldn’t be trusted, so you had to act alone.” There’s that chime again, and another tear falling. “But that’s all going to change now.”

It’s a promise, he knows, he can feel it. “What is that?”

“That is the Trueblood gift. My father could make any vow magically binding just by witnessing it, and his father could tell when someone stated something untrue, even if they believed it themselves.” Her mouth quirked. “He called it tasting lies.”

“Can you do that?”

“No.” She closes her eyes, too slowly to be just a blink, and this time when she sighs he can feel the weight behind it. “I can hear Truth sometimes, ride it, verify it, make sure everyone else believes it.”

She opens her eyes, and there’s guilt now, and grief, dark and deep and endless. “Valentine recruited your father and I personally, and I believed everything he told me about what he was doing, and why, and because I believed him, because there was a Trueblood supporting him, a lot of people who wouldn’t otherwise have let him be… let him get away with, well. Everything.”

Alec goes still. He can tell she’s telling the Truth still, and he doesn’t want to know that, doesn’t want to feel it, but he can, he does, and he’s never ever going to be able to forget what this feels like, this truth that turned his whole life into a lie that he’d never known he was telling.

He swallows down the nausea, the outrage, and waits.

“But when your father told me what he learned about what Valentine was really like, I couldn’t believe the lies any more. We turned ourselves into the Clave, and they only let us back because I rode the Truth when I vowed that we would be loyal to the Council, when I vowed on my bloodline, back to my parents and.” Her voice drops, lower and softer. “And down to my son, who is a Trueblood too.”

“And then you lied to me about it.”

“The Council forbid anyone from talking about the Circle.”

He gives her the look that line deserves.

She’s almost trembling, her hands held too tightly by her sides. “We didn’t want you to have to bear the weight of our mistakes.”

“But I do.” He looks at her, really looks at her, in the same way he looks at the weapons in the armory, and the hilts strapped to the side of visiting nephilim, and the way he’d listened to Malachi and heard Valentine’s Curse in his blood.

Alec can almost see the pattern of the fragile scaffolding of his mother’s emotions, suppressed down under her skin, forced to only exist between the fine lines of her plans, of her will and desire and ambition and pain, all constraining her gift into something so much smaller than it could have been. The foundation of that scaffolding seems shaken, it feels fragile. But it hasn’t moved, hasn’t fallen. She regrets how he feels, sincerely means to change, but she hasn’t, not yet. It’s all still there.

“Every single one of them has been put on my shoulders, and because you hid them from me I thought all that weight was mine, was me, that I deserved every harsh word and mistrustful look, and every single one of them was about you.”

Maryse rears back, but they both hear the Truth in his voice, the sound that resonates between his bones, that builds and forces its way out, that refuses to be silenced. That he is never ever going to try and silence. “You can go.”

She opens her mouth. He lifts his chin, and she concedes. “Amira will take my place with you until the next medic visit.”

He almost frowns, wondering what she means. “You burned through almost all your angelic energy.” She tilts her chin and he glances sideways at the IV bag, half full of something that isn’t just saline, judging by the color of the label. “And you’ve been asleep for almost three days.”

Three? he mouths, more to himself than her, but she sees it, understands it, nods.

There are circles under her eyes, and he can hear the exhaustion she'd been trying to hide when she speaks again. “Let us try and take care of you this time.”

He nods, accepting her peace offering for what it is, and she leaves.

He settles, waits until the door opens again to let Master Amira in.

Only then does he close his eyes, knowing he’s safe, knowing she’s there for him. He knows he’ll forgive his parents when they come back, knows that if they try at all he’ll let them be his parents again. But he’s not sure if they’ll ever earn back his trust.

But he can trust Master Amira, and he’ll make sure to tell Izzy the truth, make sure she knows exactly which consequences are hers, and which are not. He’ll do the same for Max once he’s old enough to talk, and they’ll never have to bear the weight of their parents’ mistakes the way he did, never be expected to fix everything the Clave and Circle broke just because they were offered the mercy of living.

He smiles to himself, pleased with that decision. He can hear Master Amira settling down into the chair next to his desk as he lets himself relax, can hear the soft sweet chime of his adamas slivers being returned, can feel the familiar low rhythm of her axes. He’s always thought they seem like contented cats, purring as they rest against their chosen partner, but today it’s like they’re purring for him, too, soothing him back to sleep.

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