#hes one of us my liege
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some facts about Kim Kitsuragi
- one cigarette a day. there's no individual on this earth who would keep to a ritual like that that takes so much self control except the type of person who will do everything by their internal schedule until the day they die. (source: i drink one decaf coffee every morning. i have heart issues- even decaf is probably more than i should have. so I limit myself to just one, in the morning, even if its not very good, because it's part of my routine)
- the driving gloves. bad textures begone (source: i wear gloves a lot too for this very reason)
- the jacket (source: not one autistic person alive doesn't have an article of clothing or accessory they wear every single day because its comforting to have that stability and choosing new outfits is stress you don't need every day)
- the way he deals with emotions. its mostly compartmentalization, with very little outward expression, and even if he's sympathetic its generally in a distant and factual way that doesn't rely on pathos (source: autistic people often have difficulty even telling what emotions they're having at any given time, so telling how someone else is feeling is even harder. usually we default to a benefit of the doubt, and pinpoint factual information as comfort)
- the notebook (source: autism often manifests as a one-track mind. its difficult to remember small details of events, or events at all, if we're thinking about something else at the time. the notebook serves as both a grounding tool to help him focus on the task at hand and a way to reference details he normally wouldn't recollect, as well as helping with his aphantasia)
- "let's focus on the case, detective." (source: again, autistic people tend to have a one track mind. I often find myself "conversation stacking," which is when you remember old topics of conversation and bring them back around in order to finish discussing them. autistic people do this because our thoughts can be easily overwhelmed by wildly shifting circumstances, so we try to maintain that focus. kim is always focused in the case because if he thinks about something else (and switching focus is hard) he knows it'll be hard to get himself back on track. hence also why you can lead him on these wild tangents- once he's in, he's in, and he will see it to the end until you can circle back, because nothing is more irritating to an autistic person than leaving something unfinished. I often drink too much because I hate leaving my glass still partway full)
- special interest in MCs (source: look at this torque dork and tell me that isn't a special interest)
- the Kimball Incident (source: you know he hyperfocused on that one case for a whole 9 months. there's no way anyone but an autistic person could manage to focus and train so hard on a single new skill for an undercover mission. he hates it now also because sometimes when you hyperfocus you end up burnt out on the interest when it finally fades. I hate looking at old fandom stuff cause I immersed myself so hard in it for months at a time)
- Harry. him and Kim are adhd/autism solidarity (source: nothing gets me out of my comfort zone like an adhd person. I love being around them because I can let them lead me around without having to focus too hard on all the stuff they're able to focus on at once. also, every adhd/autism relationship has that subtle push/pull of one person getting side tracked and the other letting them go on the tangent but then circling back around. its kind of magic)
- look at the way he stands. look at his stance (source: I also stand like that)
now with this evidence before the jury i present a theory- that kims decision to transfer to the 41st was actually the most insane declaration of love he could've possibly done. he is willing to uproot his entire years-long comfort and stability because one guy showed him something different. we don't do this lightly. if an autistic person changes their schedule for you in any capacity, they're basically proposing to you. mans got it down BAD
#in the life#disco elysium#kim kitsuragi#actually autistic#I WILL SPREAD MY AUTISTIC KIM PROPAGANDA UNTIL I DIE#hes one of us my liege
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my brother, come join me, in battle we are stronger
#the elder scrolls#tes#morrowind#nerevar indoril#nerevar#voryn dagoth#dagoth ur#hey this is my bro voryn#voryn as one of eight sons is used to it#and yes nerevar went gray before he was old#when they were more khans that king and liege
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ok ok listen…….. what if i made a oc verse set in m*etriod.. like a clown or two set in the verse ✨👁🥀❣️
#for the audience of me hehe but they’re the clowns of my heart at the moment along with t*lou clowns and the asoiaf dears hehe#i mean ive had this storyline in my mind since i was like.. a kid and playing the remaster of p*rime it brought back all those memories? ✨😭#they were some of my first ocs too ! and returning to them again with fresh eyes im like.. a little emotional u know?#likely will yell more on ye olde oc blog but wanted to hear the besties thoughts on it if i were to talk about it?#(though i may transition them to an original verse instead but for now ! that’s where they’ll be hehe 🖤)#but ! yea ! for setting its like.. g*ot in space skzjjzjx and the empire is the liege lords of the space pirates hehe#they were brought up by the c*hozo and ofc they disappear and this gave the current empress an in to overthrow the old emperor#(and dad of one of the antagonist/deuteragonists !)#so that’s a little bit of it !#leg.txt#*personal#i am thinking as well of like a sort of a*nastasia sort of plot where a princess (and the daughter of the new empress) loses her memory ?#her love interest is the son of the old emperor and the current right hand of the new empress (its actually what she’s using against him ?)#(that he loves her and for that she would zero her if he didn’t aid her in overthrowing his father? it’s a time to be them!)#he was also brought up and raised by the same c*hozo who raised s*amus so they’re childhood friends !#basically he can’t stand her now bc he isn’t aware of her memory being gone and thinks she’s her hostage sksjzjjx#a bit of a misunderstanding going on! in later things he joins the team but! and he also has a brother as well!#and there’s a director of r&d who’s a bit of a snob and an master of intelligence who join the team too later!
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merope: they said you were at least a day's ride away when i went into labor and rawk was sent to get you, but you showed up before sundown. how?
fenrir: took some shortcuts
fenrir: broke some laws
fenrir: pissed off a few foreign lords and duško
#rode like the wind and bodyguard got mad bc he couldnt keep up#my liege thats DANGEROUS#fenrir is used to pissing him off tho and duško is used to fenrir irritating him on the regular so its fine#the end justified the means#congrats on the healthy bebbe#royaltines#rawk took the fastest horse and is one of the fastest horsemen in the castle#hence why he was chosen to take the message#and fenrir left him in the dust twice over he probably broke some laws of physics on his way home
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Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs
For @astrangersummer week 1 prompt 'short shorts'. Title from Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC.
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson (pre-relationship)
Rating: Teen (swearing)
W/C - 848
Tags: Post Season 4 Volume 2, Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington, flirting, Steve Harrington wears short shorts, summer, pool party, sun bathing, water balloons, Steve Harrington's thighs, Eddie Munson is suffering
Summary: Steve sunbathes in the tiniest shorts Hawkins has ever seen. Eddie tries and fails to keep his cool.
___
Eddie was suffering.
Not just from the heat of the midday sun baking him alive, or from the way his hair was practically glued to his sweat-slick neck.
No, the worst of his suffering was caused by Steve Harrington’s thighs.
They were going to kill him.
Eddie couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, he just had to keep glancing over at where the other boy was lying in the grass, skin bare except for the tiniest pair of shorts Eddie had ever seen. They barely covered the top half of his thighs for fuck’s sake, what was even the point in them…
The guy’s naked chest and torso had already done a number on Eddie. But when Steve had laid down, stretched out to sunbathe in his backyard, those already-skimpy shorts had ridden up even higher, revealing a slightly paler strip of skin stretched tight over lean muscle and Eddie had had to sit on his damn hands to stop himself from reaching out and just touching…
A water balloon smacked into the side of Eddie’s face, momentarily dragging his attention away from Steve’s hairy thighs.
Luckily for Dustin, who was standing with his hands on his hips nearby and rolling his eyes at Eddie, the balloon hadn’t burst. If it had, Eddie might’ve strangled the kid himself.
“Hey, we said no water balloons near us!” Robin grumbled, sitting up to glare at the kid.
“I called your name three times,” Dustin complained to Eddie. “Not my fault you were too busy staring at Steve.”
Eddie’s eyes darted sideways, sensing movement from Steve. The boy cracked open an eye to give Eddie a brief glance, then closed it again, the tiniest smirk spreading across his face.
“I was not, you little shrimp,” Eddie snapped. “Now what do you want?”
“Come throw the rings into the pool for me? Lucas and Mike keep grabbing them before I can reach them, and I want to try and dive for them.”
Eddie snorted. “What are you, a fucking dolphin?”
“Language,” Steve mumbled lazily, not opening his eyes.
“Apologies, my liege, I’ll try to keep my language appropriate around your little charges.”
“Thank you.”
Eddie stood, wincing a little as he reached up to touch his rapidly reddening shoulders. Unlike Steve, he wasn’t gifted with a natural golden glow to his skin. He was pasty, usually sheet-white.
And now, he was steadily burning to a crisp.
Grumbling under his breath, Eddie stole one last look at the prone Steve, let his eyes run over his form for as long as he thought he could get away with. He could wax poetry about his thighs, about his torso, about the moles dotting his chest and stomach like constellations…
“Eddie?”
Fuck.
“Yeah, Steve?” His response came out as almost a squeak.
“You’re burnt. Once you’re finished entertaining Dustin, come back and get some sunblock on, I’ll help with your shoulders.”
Eddie swallowed thickly. Because that meant Steve would have his hands on him, all sun-warm as he spread sunblock across Eddie’s sensitive skin…
Steve opened his eyes then, rolling over to face Eddie and propping his head up on his hand with his elbow bent.
“And then after that, you can do my back.”
He fucking winked.
Eddie backpeddled, nodding quickly then turning around and doing his best to not trip over his feet as he scrambled after Dustin.
“Dude, you’re the least subtle person I’ve ever seen,” Dustin whispered to him as they walked towards the pool.
“Shut up.”
Eddie threw the rings half-heartedly into the pool, Dustin diving for them in a…not so impressive display of athleticism, but he would emerge eventually and toss the colourful rings back at Eddie, the other kids watching on.
As it tended to do, Eddie’s attention drifted back to Steve.
He was up now, chasing Robin around in the grass with the still-intact water balloon in hand. Robin was shrieking and trying to slap at him with her book, sunglasses flying from her hair. Steve hurled the water balloon, but it slapped against Robin’s back and plopped to the ground without breaking again.
Lightning quick, Robin picked it up and threw it hard back at Steve.
It smacked onto Steve’s chest and burst.
Eddie’s wide eyes drifted down.
Steve’s tiny shorts were now soaked, Robin doubled over with laughter as the water trickled down his torso and collected at the waistband.
Eddie’s gaze followed the path of water through Steve’s chest hair, down the soft planes of his stomach and small swell of his abdominal muscles, tracking past the healing scars on his sides…
When he looked up again, Steve’s eyes were on him.
Just as Eddie was trying to craft an excuse as to why he was openly ogling the guy again, Steve swiped the bottle of sunblock from the grass, holding it up with a little wiggle to Eddie, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Eddie dropped Dustin’s rings into the water without looking, ignoring the kid’s protests, and strode towards Steve.
The other boy’s smile spread wider, his eyes twinkling.
Eddie was fucked.
___
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Oblivion | Paul Atreides
There used to be beginnings and ends, nights and days, dream and reality, before the haze took over, swallowing every thought, every memory, every whisper of free will.
Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen Reader, Kynes!Reader, Mind Control, Memory Manipulation, Padishah Emperor Paul, Loss of Identity, Brainwashing, Mentions of war and religious fanaticism
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
Muad’Dib leads the way.
It is what the prophecy dictates. That he is the voice from the Outer World. The one who will lead your people to paradise. The one who will turn Dune’s arid desert lands into bountiful, endless green fields.
But as your eyes rest on him, you do not see the chosen one. You do not see the Lisan Al-Ghaib. You see your friend Paul, broken, lost, his heart shattered into a million pieces due to your cousin’s absence.
He sits at the head of his bed, shadows fluttering across his delicate features from the glowglobes’ dull orange light. Wide black rings surround his sunken blue eyes, the result of his daily consumption of spice melange. Lank, greasy brown curls hang around his handsome face. A pang twists your chest. He hasn’t slept in days, has barely gotten a full night of replenishing sleep since she left on a maker’s back.
You cannot blame your cousin. Paul’s ascendency to the Golden Lion throne came at a cost. A hefty one. Promises were broken. Trust was destroyed. Only time will repair the damage that was done. Though you carry faith the two of them will find their way back to each other.
You stir the spice-coffee in the pot, straining the shimmering dark powder before pouring some in a cup. A spicy cinnamon smell coats the cool night air.
You rise and bring the cup to him.
“For you, Usul.”
A soft smile blooms on his lips as he takes a slow, weary sip.
“You make it so well,” he praises.
You glow at the compliment, returning his smile. Your grandmother used to show you and Chani how to blend coffee beans with spice and herbs. The knowledge never left you. Now, every time you feel troubled or upset, you make a fresh kettleful. A single sip of the familiar brew is enough to alleviate your frazzled nerves. Especially here, so far away from Sietch Tabr, between the strange stone walls of the Arrakeen Keep, you have craved little reminders of home more than ever before.
Fremen belong in the desert, not in peculiar tents made of marble and stone.
Paul’s brows crumple as he studies you.
“You don’t have to take care of me,” he says.
“I can get another Fremen-”
His fingers latch around your wrist, desperation sizzling under his touch.
“I prefer it to be you.” He sighs. A bone deep fatigue radiates from the sound. You halt in your tracks. You suppose you could stay a while longer. “Please, stay, your presence soothes me.”
You nod. “I’ll stay, Muad’Dib.”
Relief falls over his features.
The doors suddenly open, the guards stepping aside to let Stilgar in. He bows to Paul.
“Lisan Al-Ghaib…”
Your friend’s mouth flattens into a thin line.
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
Stilgar acquiesces. He will never stop addressing Paul with reverence and admiration. None of his followers believes in him more. At times, it scares you a little. While you share the same faith, the fervor with which every Fedaykin is willing to lay their swords in his name can be frightening. Sometimes you wonder if Chani was right. How much will it take to liberate your world? How much blood will require spilling? You’re not completely naive. No war was ever won without a few casualties. Still, part of you hopes the war will end soon and peaceful times will come.
“No sign of her?” Paul asks.
A contrite expression tugs the older man’s face.
“Apologies, my liege. We scouted the Southern regions this time. We couldn’t find her. She knows the desert well. It is home to us Fremen. She will not be found…”
“...Unless she wants to be found,” you finish, grabbing the empty cup from Paul’s hands and placing it back on the table.
The faint embers of hope in Paul’s cobalt gaze flicker out. Your heart sinks, for both you and him. Though you do not wish to burden him, you miss your cousin too. Her practicality and common sense. Her strength. Without her, a piece of you is missing. A crucial one. Your mother died in childbirth and your father in battle, so both of you grew up together, close enough in age to share secrets and play together for most of your childhood.
It was Chani who taught you how to summon a worm and ride upon its back for the first time. She is the sister tragic circumstances blessed you with.
Stilgar apologizes profusely once more before taking his leave.
As soon as he’s gone, Paul’s shoulders slump.
“She hates me.”
You crouch beside him.
“She doesn’t hate you. She never could. She is your quiet in the storm, and you are hers. She will return when she is ready.”
A wry laugh escapes his lips.
“I have Irulan, my beloved wife, who is likely plotting my demise as we speak. Qizarate missionaries pressing me to take action and purge the non-believers on Aldinor. I am surrounded by foes, everywhere I look.” That distant expression he gets whenever his visions haunt him touches his face. “Blades pointed at my neck at all times, waiting for a sign of weakness to strike.”
You grab his hand, reassuring him, “You also have friends, Usul, who believe in your cause.”
“Fanatics,” he corrects bitterly.
Your chest swells with worry. You don’t like it when he questions himself as such. His cause is right. He freed Arrakis from the Harkonnen’s iron-fisted rule. He will bring peace to every world in the universe. It is written. It’s the only path forward.
“You are not alone.” His fingers squeeze around yours. Warmth rushes to your face, the realization that you’re awfully close to the Emperor striking you. You adjust the nezhoni scarf covering your hair and rise. “I shall let you rest, my Lord.”
“Stay, please.”
His tone is beseeching. Your gaze swings to the window. There, moon beams pierce through the colorful glass, scattering rainbow splashes of light across the floor. Vibrant stars pepper the dark sky, pearls lost in a sea of ink. It’s pitch black outside. You should be in your own room. Not his.
“Muad’Dib, it’s late…”
His grip on your hand tightens. When he speaks again, his tone is different. Disembodied. Powerful. Its tantalizing echo drips inside your head like honey.
“Stay,” he mumbles. You plop down on the bed, your body moving on its own, driven by the strange, irresistible thrall of Paul’s voice.
“Usul…”
He cups your cheeks.
“Sleep beside me tonight.”
“I’m not her.”
“I don’t want you to be.”
“She should be with me and she isn’t. But you are.” His inflection becomes soft and inviting as he drinks you in. As if he were lumbering through the desert, parched and desperate, and you were a well overflowing with fresh water. “You are beautiful. I never noticed before.” He pauses, tracing your bottom lip. “Perhaps I should have.”
You blink, dazed. When did Paul’s face get so close to yours? You can outline each of his long lashes, the speckles of green lingering in his blue eyes.
“Paul-”
His mouth grazes yours, his thumb stroking your cheeks. It only lasts a few seconds. The warm plushness of his lips on yours yanks you back to reality. You gasp and flinch back. When you recoil, his silky tone fills your ears once more.
“Don’t fight it. You love me, remember?”
A confused whisper slips through your lips. Two parts of your mind wrestle with Paul’s words.
“I do?”
His eyes dive into yours.
“Of course, you do.”
“Of course I do,” you repeat, his tone nudging aside the doubts lurking inside your mind.
A bright smile unfurls on his lips, his lids sagging to half-mast.
“It’s like you said before. You are my quiet in the storm and I am yours.”
Right. You uttered those very same words. How could you forget?
You are Paul’s quiet in the storm. He is yours.
His mouth covers yours. It moves slowly against your own. He explores your mouth as he cradles your face. His long lashes fall over his cheekbones as he loses himself in your taste. He hums against your lips, gentle fingers touching your face. You don’t move, eyes half-open as you let it happen. It’s foreign, the sensation of Paul’s lips on yours. Foreign and strange yet you can’t help but numbly accept it.
Once he frees your lips, he rests his forehead against yours.
“Come into my arms, my love,” he says.
You don’t resist as he pulls you into his embrace, nudging you onto the bed. Soft strands of Paul’s brown mane brush against your cheek as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your spice-coated scent.
His arms circle your waist. Your back melds against his chest, the warmth of your bodies mingling through the thin layers of your clothes.
“You smell so good,” he mutters. Your scarf shifts when he rubs his face against it. “Don’t ever leave me.”
When you don’t reply, his tone gets firmer. “Promise it.”
The words roll off your tongue easily.
“I won’t ever leave you, Paul.”
Tension leaks out of his tightly coiled muscles.
“Good,” he says, drifting off to sleep quickly with you nestled in his snug embrace.
You fall asleep too, no thoughts in your head, Paul’s soft snores lulling you into peaceful slumber.
You awake with a start, the stark unfamiliarity of the palatial chambers you find yourself in causing your pulse to soar. Your eyes dart about the room. Recognition hits you. These are the Emperor’s apartments.
Your eyes grow wide. You’re not supposed to be here. Panic sets in.
“W-What am I doing here?”
Paul’s quiet voice flows across your back.
“Calm down.”
“No. I shouldn’t be here…”
You start crawling off the bed but Paul’s fingers around your wrist impede your departure.
He holds your face, vibrant blue eyes locking with yours. You find yourself incapable of looking away, ensnared by his unflinching focus.
“I said, Calm down.”
The alarms ringing inside your head fall quiet. You lean into Paul’s touch. What were you doing? What were you thinking? Every thought you attempt to grasp at evaporates in the heat of Muad’Dib’s stare.
“There. Much better,” he coos, satisfaction hovering on his handsome face. His voice sinks into a sensual whisper. “Why don’t you kneel for me?”
You do as he instructs. Then all fades to black as quicksands of confusion engulf your thoughts.
When you return to yourself, you aren’t on the bed anymore, but on your knees on the carpeted floor.
Paul is looming over you, grunting, his throat bobbing. One of his hands is curled around your nape while the other is under your jaw.
You note the saltiness coating your tongue, the drool on your chin, the soreness in the back of your throat.
You choke on his length, air wavering inside your lungs.
Paul’s cock is in your mouth.
The sick, awful realization tumbles over you like a bag of stones.
Muffled moans leave you as you lift pleading eyes towards him.
You place your hands on his thighs, shoving with all your strength.
Paul doesn’t let you move. He cradles your face and thrusts inside your mouth until his balls are pressed into your chin.
Clouds of lust obscure his gaze as it falls upon you.
He caresses your face, dragging his cock out before pushing it inside your mouth again. Gurgled sounds leave your throat. Tears skip down your cheeks and you wonder when you’ve started crying.
Fremen do not cry. Ever. Even for the dead. It is a rare, sacred act.
Paul wipes them off your face with his thumbs.
“You love me. It is what lovers do,” he says matter-of-factly.
Your body relaxes.
Right. Of course. You love him. It is what lovers do.
You hollow your cheeks and suck him off. He unleashes a throaty sigh of delight as you pleasure him with your mouth.
When his seed drips down your tongue, he coaxes you not to waste a single drop. You swallow all of it, showing no resistance when he nudges a stray drop between your wet lips.
Several days in a row, you awake in the emperor’s chambers. At first, you experience great confusion. However, Paul’s soothing words always quell your rising panic. It becomes all you know. The Emperor’s mesmerizing voice. His large, soft bed. His ceaseless, ravenous touch.
Sweaty, tangled limbs melting in lewd harmony.
You stop questioning it. Even the strange lapses of time when you are in one room and mysteriously wind up in another. It isn’t rare for you to wake up with the Emperor’s head bobbing between your thighs, greedily lapping at your folds, or with your hips grinding into his as he impales you on his cock.
It is where you belong. And you believe him when he says that, mumbling loving promises into your ear in the dead of night.
“If we do not strike fast and hard, they will not accept your rule,” Stilgar says.
“They worship a false god. We are doing them a favor,” another man sitting at the table interjects.
A shaky exhale flows from your tongue. You look around, dismay filling you when you realize you’re in Paul’s war room amidst a council meeting. Your head throbs. How did you get here?
You rise from your chair. Bemused gazes land on you.
Princess Irulan snickers from her seat.
“Husband, your concubine is acting strange,” she sneers.
Concubine? You step away from the table.
You blink several times as you stumble outside. You grip your temples, your forehead scrunching. That cannot be right. Is it?
You are no one’s concubine.
You are…
You are…
Adrenaline pumps through your blood as your head buzzes.
The answer will not come, your mind keeping it under firm lock and key.
Frustration mounts within you. You blindly waddle around.
You end up in a room that bears vague familiarity. You lean against a basin full of water. Water…just lying around. That seems strange.
Your eyes land on a mirror on the opposite wall. The reflection in the glass has your heart rate spiking. Who is this?
You bolt to your feet, the water in the basin splashing around your feet.
Your tremulous fingers rise to your face, horror filling you when the woman in the mirror mimicks your exact motions.
Your gaze travels across the wide, open space. Quick breaths rush from your throat. The Emperor’s room. Why did you think it was your room?
You stagger backwards. You gasp as you bump into a solid form.
You whirl, eyes widening.
“Paul.”
He gauges you, slight concern etched in his blue eyes. Relief fills you as you soak in his boyish, slender features, much more familiar than those of the stranger in the mirror.
You know Paul. Muad’Dib. Paul is familiar, safe. You trust him. He will tell you who you are.
“Yes, my love?”
“Paul, who am I?”
A displeased frown settles on his brow. He approaches you and grabs your face. His expression hardens.
“You are mine. Nothing else matters.”
“But Paul-”
Your protests are stifled by the feverish press of his lips on yours. A fog surrounds your thoughts as his kiss grows more passionate, his hands sweeping over your curves. You place your hand on his chest, pushing feebly.
“Forget it. Forget it all, beloved,” he mumbles against your lips. You sag against him. You drown in Paul’s blue eyes, time stretching beyond eternity.
When you gain a semblance of awareness, your naked form is writhing above Paul’s. Your palms are spread over his lithe muscles, your hips moving as he slams his cock into your cunt repetitively. Paul bites his lip, his gaze glued to the sight of his length disappearing between your wet folds.
When did you get on the bed? When did you shed your clothes?
Every inquiry melts in the heat swirling across your damp flesh.
Your lashes flutter as you unleash a broken whimper, Paul’s hard length touching you in places that send electricity rippling through your spine.
You tighten around him and he purrs.
“Remember nothing but my name,” he rasps, clutching your hips possessively. He impales you on his length, thrusting faster. You choke on your breath, his quickening pace driving you wild.
You brace yourself on his chest and lose yourself in the pleasure, your breath hitching each time he pounds into you.
The filthy sounds of your coupling fill the room, bouncing off the stone walls. Paul’s deep, animalistic moans. Your soft, desperate whimpers. The blunt, wet sounds your cunt makes as he buries himself inside you. The bed rattling and squeaking under your writhing forms.
“Paul, Paul…” you pant as you bounce on his cock. An intensity ignites his eyes as his name falls from your tongue like a prayer. You toss your head back, voice dying in your throat as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your toes flex. You tremble, your body jolting as your slick walls flutter around his length. A husky moan leaves him. He twitches inside you. His back lifts from the sheets, his body tensing as he hits his peak too. Slick warmth spills from his tip, glazing your walls.
An errant sliver of panic lurks inside your brain. Your eyes bulge as you glance down at where your body and Paul’s are conjoined. Rapid breaths burst from your chest.
Seeming to sense your distress, he shoves your hips back down when you try to squirm away.
His authoritative voice booms across the room, unnatural, multiplied. Everywhere at once.
“Do not move, beloved. Let me fill you up. Make you mine in every way.”
Your breaths settle down. Your worries disappear. You look into Paul’s loving gaze. A smile unfans on his lips as you ride him with abandon again.
“What are you doing?”
You pivot at the abrupt sound of Paul’s voice. You pause above the bag you’re packing. You peer at him, mulling over an appropriate answer to his question. You do not find one. You only know that you stirred awake that morning, feeling strange, sore…Lost. The urge to collect your meager belongings and leave the Arrakeen Keep seared inside you since then. A hollow, distant voice rings inside your head.
Return to Sietch Tabr.
“I have to go. Something…Something isn’t feeling right.”
The muscles of Paul’s jaw flare, his tone as ice as he states, “You want to leave me.”
Discarding your bag, you rush to him. You take his hands in yours.
“No. I made you a promise. I just need time to think…I can’t think anymore, Paul.”
It’s true. Every day feels like trudging through a Coriolis storm, your thoughts scattering as dust in the wind the minute they form.
Everything that was solid before is now sand slipping through your fingers.
Paul’s gaze corrals yours.
“You don’t need to,” he says, gripping your face. His tone dips to a soft lilt that penetrates your senses. “Who are you?”
You search his eyes. A breeze blows away every single doubt you had.
The answer to every inquiry you had is right there. In Paul’s fond stare.
The persistent little voice in your head, that pesky plea begging to be heard suddenly falls quiet. The truth echoes in your head, Paul’s powerful voice filling your mind.
You are right where you belong.
“I’m yours,” you utter with certainty.
His face softens. “That is correct, my love,” he says, stroking your cheek.
“Now, why don’t you settle down, beloved?” You let him escort you to the bed, coaxing you to take a seat on the sheets. “Agitating yourself as such isn’t good for you.”
He sinks to the floor and drops a gentle kiss over your round belly.
“And it’s not good for the baby either.”
#paul atreides#paul atreides x reader#dune fanfiction#dune#dark!paul atreides#dark!paul atreides x reader#dune part two#paul atreides x you#paul atreides imagine#dune part 2
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CAPTAIN MISURN — "This is the one." The captain lapses into customary silence. Interrogations are *your* job, lieutenant.
CHILCHUCK — "Make it quick, yeah?" The half-foot is several drinks deep, an adventurer's preferred state. "I don't make a habit of talking to Canaries."
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — I'll have what he's having.
CHILCHUCK — He waits like a pin for your first raking pass.
- "What do you know about necromancy?"
- "I've heard you're organizing adventurers. You can't do that, it tarnishes the divine authority of Her Ethereal Majesty's glorious Elven nation!"
- "I've heard you're organizing adventurers. Do you not trust market forces to set a fair price for sneakthievery?"
- "I've heard you're organizing adventurers. It's a good start, but when do you behead the governor and let the streets run with the blood of shopkeeps and other petty-bourgeois pigs?"
- "I need to gather my party." [Leave.]
YOU — "What do you know about necromancy?"
CHILCHUCK — "Necromancy? You mean the forbidden arts? Dark magic? Officer, why in the hell would I know *anything* about that?"
DRAMA [Challenging: Success] — My liege. 'Tis not just spirits on his breath. Smell it: the savory scent of a *lie.*
EMPATHY [Legendary: Success] — There's a sorrow he's trying to hide.
- "Seems like a useful skill to pick up."
- "She's gone, isn't she?"
- "Let's talk about something else."
YOU — "She's gone, isn't she?"
CHILCHUCK — "What are you…?" His eyes widen - it's just a flicker. He shakes it away. "What are you saying, officer?"
EMPATHY — It's there. Deep in there.
- Wait, how do I know this?
- "I said she's *gone,* isn't she?"
- "Nothing. Never mind."
YOU — Wait, how do I know this?
INLAND EMPIRE — You ask from the bottom of a hole. You already know this.
EMPATHY — A pain you've borne for an age of men, alone. It's there, fresh, in the tiny mirrors of his eyes. He feels it, too.
- "I said she's *gone,* isn't she?"
- "She's gone… and she took the kids."
- "Nothing. Never mind."
YOU — "She's gone… and she took the kids."
CHILCHUCK — He scowls. "You know what? Officer, this interview is over. Any further questions will have to go through a guild representative."
PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] — His hands shake around the stein. A liability for a locksmith.
AUTHORITY — Bingo.
New task: Call her.
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MOOTS🥹 I am here to request🙏 Can I request a Joost Klein x reader enemies to lovers? Just a classic trope🤭
You ask and I deliver, my liege.
Dunno if it's enough lovers, if you would like me to elaborate in part two lemme know, I'm open to continuing this story!
Big, big kisses for my first request, too! Love ya!
And he did | Joost Klein x fem!reader
Summary: ‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely.
‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’
Word count: 1011 (in half an hour no less, I'm crazy for him)
WARNINGS: some swearing, nothing explicit
Author's note: there is no use of Y/N, but the reader is referred to as "she" and is mentioned to wear a dress. I haven't yet mastered the ability to write those in a gn way, but gimme some time and I'll try to do better!
The corridors were lively as ever, curving and suddenly ending, loads of people walking around them and talking excitedly amongst each other. It was an important night, one that would be remembered by many for years and years to come. Everyone was ready, adrenaline pumping through their veins, silly and/or sexy costumes on, game-faces on. It was show-time.
‘For Christ’s sake, let’s just get it over with!’ someone exclaimed from the side but she paid them no mind. She was walking hurriedly, her steps loud and heavy, chest raising rapidly, as if she has just run for hour hours on end. But she hasn’t, no, that was actually more exhausting.
Rage. The pure rage that was born in her veins, surging through her system, flushing out every other emotion ever known to her. Rage that was born ages ago, eons before.
Finally having reached her destination she pushed the heavy door to a dim-lit room, a certain name and surname decorating it. “Joost Klein” it read, a dorky-looking cutout of his face hanging right next to it. He must have done it himself. Yeah, that would make perfect sense, actually.
She opened the door and right away closed it behind her, looking at the scene in front of her. Here he was, in his European-Union-Blue, his jacket laying on the floor, discarded in a hurry, looking sad when it only ever brought joy to people. And next to it, on a plush sofa, wrapped in a blanket and with a teacup in hand, sat him. The reason for her rage, the man who made her see red.
He got startled at her entrance, the liquid sloshing in his cup and burning his hand. He hissed in pain and a grimace made its way on his face. A, objectively speaking, handsome face with a frown etched onto it, brows furrowed, eyes red.
‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely.
‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ the man replied, his voice thick with emotion, trying to act like it wasn’t. Like it was just him, the goofy guy with jokes and anecdotes up his sleeves.
‘Like hell it does!’ she protested. It was hot in the room, so hot and heavy, the silence after her words suffocating them both. He slowly raised his head, turning around to look at her. He tilted his head to the side, silently posing a question. ‘I don’t like injustice, Joost, you know it.’
And it was true. She hated when she or others were getting fucked over, lied to, when bad things happened to good people, essentially.
The rage was still there, it’s quiet bonfire still burning brightly, albeit a little dimmer, just a tad. She didn’t hear any ringing in her head anymore, just the labored breathing of him and her. Of them.
And isn’t that funny? The both of them sitting in one room, eyeing one another and not saying a word. After all, it was more than usual for them to get into catfights, sneer at one another, jokingly (or not) tease. It has been like it forever, really, ever since they met at this one festival at the beginning of both of their career. It has been like that ever since he spilled his drink on her stage costume and then laughed, not sparing her another glance.
Ever since they continued to meet on other festivals, her shooting daggers at his and his friends’ careless behavior, him sticking his tongue out at her and walking away.
Ever since she tripped over one of the cables and bumped into him, causing him to drop one of the microphones and destroying it. Ever since she fought fiercely to not pay for such mike.
That moment, yes. The rage seemed to be saying, its fingers curling around her heart and clenching, stuffing her full of the need to sneer, to bite back.
But how? How was she supposed to think of this careless teenage boy she met when she, too, was a stupid young girl? How to do it when there he was, curled on himself, dark bags under his eyes, the sleeves of his shirt uncuffed and crumpled, as if he squeezed them in his hands too much. A skipping rope laid somewhere in the mess of the room, discarded just like his jacket.
And so the silence continued while the room got colder and colder, her face softer and his eyes glassier.
‘Fuck the EBU’ she muttered, walking closer to him. She approached the sofa, took a deep breath and sat next to him. The man followed her every move with his eyes, a glint of something making them shine. Or maybe it was just the unshed tears.
‘Yeah’ he rasped. Joost shook his blonde hair, as if he were a dog, as if shaking off the sadness. He slapped a goofy looking grin on his face and wiggled his brows at her. ‘You worried or something?’ he teased, nudging her with his elbow.
And that did it. In the speed of lightning she lounged herself at him and engulfed him in a hug. The kind that breaks bones and any internal barricades you may have. She put her chin on his head and waited.
To give credit where credit’s due, he reacted instantly. He snaked his arms around her body, resting his forehead on her chest and taking a deep, shaky breath.
‘You would’ve won this’ she whispered gently, stroking his hair. The rage was gone, the hot hot feeling fleeting the moment she saw his fake smile. Instead another kind of warmth bloomed in her chest, shaking her to her core. And he didn’t seem to fare any better, his shoulders slumping and fingers curling around the fabric of her dress.
‘You’re okay, it’s gonna be fine’ she mumbled into his hair, stroking his back in soothing circles. ‘Breathe, Joost, just breathe’.
And he did.
#joost klein#europapa#eurovision 2024#joost klein x you#joost klein x reader#justice for joost#joostice#eurovision song contest
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You’re a girl?!
how they find out & they're reaction
tags: slightly ooc, afab, female anatomy, slight favouritism..., grammatical and punctuation errors 😔
a/n: rewatched Saiki k and so I've been procrastinating lately BUT YEA I GET TO WRITE SAIKI K NOW
Series: ❤️ 🧡 🩵 💛 💜 💙 💚
Silver
Sleeping beauty over here didn’t know until one fateful afternoon nap. First situation is when he’s napping in an unconventional area and out of sight. He hears people talking (this school and their problem of talking too loudly 😒) and he overhears this price of information. Secondly, (he's sharp but doesn't show it) and straight forward asks you. Like he has his suspicions but just wanted to make sure in case he makes you uncomfortable.
Does get slightly protective of you. He knows that you can handle yourself just fine but in case you ever get put into a difficult situation he will wake up from his slumber and help you.
Sebek
I want to say that he barges into your room over a range of reasons. Could be because he wants to talk about how amazing malleus is, scolding you for not appreciating said amazingness, or simply just because he wants to spend some quality time with his "friend". Whatever the reason, it causes him to forget about his manners and slams your door wide open. "Human! Listen to w-" and before he can even finish his sentence he's screaming and slamming the door shut.
"Stupid Human!" as one of malleus's guard, its important that he has fast reaction speed to protect his liege. That also became useful when you find your friend half naked and that they're also now a girl (?) the fast reaction speed does not apply to his head at all for this part.
This silly fool will avoid you. please confront him and do something about it because he's not even keeping it discrete. If he sees you down the corridor while hes walking with malleus he may not know it but he shifts his body to hide behind him a bit. Things will get better, just talk to him 😭 Once that's settled he does say things like "ofc as malleus's guard it is my duty to help those weaker around me!" not straight forward with his intentions but it's there at least.
Lilia
i feel like he would know it from the start. It's his old man senses tingling. Many long years of exisiting makes you gain the ability to just suddenly know about such information as well. That or either when hes hanging around trees and overhears you talking about your dilemma with Grim. But doesn’t say anything about it. He’ll wait till when you’re ready to tell him.
In the meantime though, he treats you as per normal. Except those few times where he purposely puts you on the spot to try and get you to tell him faster. He can be a bit impatient and whether you tell him now or later, he will get it out of you eventually.
Malleus
Might be biased with this one but precious pookie pie over here didn't know. He has to have some miracle happen before he finds out. Or Lilia tells him. Like maybe he overhears from the Adeuce duo about your situation or your suspicious behavior around others. He may not know customs outside of his but he can tell when you're feeling awkward. Asks Lilia about it.
Well he's not sure why you're hiding it but in whatever case he will help you. You're his child of man after all. He knows others are intimidated by him and he'll make use of it. Save for a few select others...
#silver x reader#sebek x reader#lilia x reader#malleus x reader#sebek zigvolt#lilia vanrouge#mallues draconia#twst x reader#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#x reader#diasomnia#diasomnia x reader#twisted wonderland#afab reader#afab!reader x twst
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acok dash simulator
🐺 winterscumming
i’m sorry but the lannisters licherally can’t expect us to just ignore what they did to our liege lord lmao???? sitting up there on that jank throne like i won’t answer the summons as soon as lord starks’ kid calls the banners goddddds the blonde hair makes those cunts stupid. also the incest probably. what is the north known for again??? forgetting??? that’s what i thought…….
🦁 gains-of-castamere
typical northern scum lmao. bring up the ‘incest’ allegations all you want but nobody’s ever allowed to mention stark’s actual bastard as if it’s just, like, fine????? we’ll see who’s laughing when king joffrey seizes your lands and holdfasts ig
🧜♂️ womanderly
cersei lannister isn’t gonna fuck you bro
⛓️ iron-pryce
you will never fucking guess what i saw lady asha and lord greyjoy’s other kid doing on the docks today ohhhhhhhh my god
🍑 rainbowhard
LORAS TYRELL BESTED BY A WENCH THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFEEEEE
🦄 renlybrocade
she should’ve killed him the realm can afford to lose one twink
❤️🔥 rhollor-wifee
the comet is a sign of his coming
🦊 flor-aunt-it
me and the comet are making out sloppy style
❤️🔥 rhollor-wifee
you will burn
⬛️ dontcallmecrow
not my ass going on the great ranging lmao i should’ve deserted 🙏😭
🐻 lordcommandr
Report to command tent. Immediately.
⬛️ dontcallmecrow
oh my god
🛶 c-bitch
they really expect me to follow this metrosexual into battle. ok. gold price looking nepo baby cunt he fucking shot todric and i’m just supposed to steal a castle with him. ok!!!!!! i miss asha……..
🩸 reek
heyyyyyyy i’m in the dungeon fornormal reasons does someone wannacome say hi?
🦑 princee-of-winterfell
ok lol
🐉 that-one-loyalist
i swear to fucking god i just saw daenerys targaryen burn down the house of the undying????? queen???? hello???
🐴 in-the-whoarde
likely place for her to be
⚓️ sonsshine
i love my dad i love boats this is great we’re going to blackwater next i’m sure our victory will be righteous in the eyes of our lord
⚓️ sonsshine
⛵️💥💥💥☠️🟩🟩🌊🌊⛓️🔥🔥🔥⛵️⛵️🟩🟩🌊⛵️🔥🔥🔥🔥💥💥⛓️⛓️⛓️👨👦👦☠️☠️ ⛵️💥💥💥☠️🟩🟩🌊🌊⛓️🔥🔥🔥⛵️⛵️🟩🟩🌊⛵️🔥🔥🔥🔥💥💥⛓️⛓️⛓️👨👦👦☠️☠️
#yes the implication is that jeor has and uses tumblr. i think this is true#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#valyrianscrolls#theon greyjoy#asha greyjoy#cersei lannister#loras tyrell#brienne of tarth#jeor mormont#ramsay bolton#davos seaworth#daenerys targaryen#acok#a clash of kings
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DC x DP prompt/ficlet
Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:
Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...
Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.
While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!
Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.
----------------
Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED
Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE
Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?
RR: I would like to know that too
Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!
RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?
FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...
RR: Shit
Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??
FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...
Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!
RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*
-------------
Some time and explanations later...
Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?
Tim: Fml
RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that
Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English
RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics
Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times
RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...
Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that
Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway
Danny: That's what you took from that??
RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.
Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole
RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...
Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*
Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?
RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no
Danny and Tim: Fuck
--------------
Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.
They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...
Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*
Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...
Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#tim drake#red robin#danny fenton#ficlet#batman#batfam#accidental marriage#arranged marriage
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Collection of Overlords _ Part 6 = Requested
[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]
Part 1 — Part 1.5 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 (here)
Alastor nearly dropped the tray containing your food when he felt your darkening aura. He immediately got over and set the tray of food in front of you while explaining what was cooked for you. Ignoring the obvious death glare you were sending across the table at Lucifer who was still proudly introducing you
It was amazing for Alastor to see you silently seething with annoyance yet do nothing. Perhaps it was because Lucifer has yet to step out of line? Or because you had your dose of terror because of the Vees?
You were introduced as the mentor of Lucifer when he came to Hell all those years ago, meaning you were older than ancient. A hellborn, so you were able to travel throughout all of Hell, basically to other Rings that’s why you weren’t around for so long
Now the ‘Collector’ title was an interesting one. They didn’t know you hold the souls of the Overlords, they only know you hold a number of souls at your command. How you can do so while being a hellborn was beyond them. But they were aware that there were hellborn nobles, and that’s what they chalked it up to
Still though, it doesn’t help the fact that your cover was blown
“Dear student of mine.” You spoke softly with a smile. Alastor got a chill at the gentleness and eerie feeling of an incoming scolding.
“Yes, Teach?” That got Lucifer’s attention as he stopped with his flattery and turned to you with a brighter smile.
“Do shut up now.”
Your disguise dropped, revealing your true form to the others. Your eyes now closed, and an aura of authority and power radiated from you that commanded control and pressure
You politely asked Lucifer to leave the seat and continue with the hotel tour with his daughter. You had Alastor sit down while you two enjoyed a meal together. Alastor took the liberty of casting a barrier around the two of you to ensure privacy and uninterrupted moments
Peacefully, you listened to Alastor as he told you tales of what happened during his 7 years absence. The poor deer was gone looking for you after he realized your absence was a bit uncalled for, even going as far as to submit to demonic summoning in the human world to see if you would call him back to your services
It was amusing and you chuckled at the silly stuff humans had your deer do, Alastor’s cute ears pinned back at your mocking laugh, but returned to their position with joy when you said you meant to offense
So Alastor continued to share his stories to entertain you, all while you listened and enjoyed his cooking with a content smile gracing your lips
Never has he asked question about you, for you’ll never tell. You have your secrets and sacred knowledge and information that is only for your knowing. He knew, everyone else in your elite collection knew. All they ask for was your presence and support in their time in this Hell realm
It was obvious how while you have all this power to squash them like mere insects, you never did so and instead supported them and given them a title that would be feared. You established a system for them that will be recognized by all of Hell
“I was afraid you’d be gone forever, My Liege.” Alastor’s ears drooped down.
You smiled, “Forever’s a long time. I should know. I’ll never be gone, no need to fret.”
Alastor remembers that day well, when he was approached by you. The shadows he controlled ran rampened, out of his control. He was suddenly brought to a forest, he saw the city buildings over the treelines, but he couldn’t leave this forest no matter what. Even when he tried to use his powers and his more demonic form, nothing worked. Something kept him there by force
For the first time since his descent to Hell, he felt powerless and caged. There was no one in that forest to exploit or ask questions. It was truly just him
It felt like he was held prisoner yet not since he was free to do as he pleased. He could conjure things, so his daily necessities were met. Then there were the deers that were nothing like the hell creatures, it was one he was familiar to back when he was alive. So he enjoyed the game of hunting
It felt like he was well-provided. All but his freedom to leave
He didn’t know how long he stayed there, but there were whispers here and there. Creatures that were a blend of ravens and crows were in the trees watching him, Cages as they introduced themselves
The Cages whispered ideas into him, he ignored them. Then they continued to repeating the same thing to him. He had enough and tried what was suggested to him. For some odd reason, it worked. It was like a power upgrade from what he was capable of, a boost if you will. The Cages spoke words of praise that felt oddly pleasant
From then on, he looked forward to the Cages’ suggestions. Everytime he accomplished what they proposed, compliments came to him with a wash of comfort, then another tip came. He found himself growing more and more reliant on the connection he had with the Cages and anticipated their presence every time his eyes opened from a nap or long rest
Yet the time came when all the Cages seemingly disappeared from the forest. He searched high and low, turning desperate for their presence again. He long forgotten his goal of escape since this place made his entertainment worthwhile and his power was growing
At the sight of that one Cage, he followed it. He knew then, it was on purpose, everything that happened had a purpose. The Cage led him to you. You who sat in the clearing tending to a number of Cages that were around you
When he materialized out of the shadows and saw your form, he felt like he was in a trance. That presence he was feeling through the Cages, it was all so strong around you, passing by those winged creatures, he confirmed it was all you. Everything that happened here was all your doing
Instead of rage and bloodlust like he had in the beginning of his time here, there was a longing of passion and an urge to stay by your side so he wouldn’t be separated from you. He didn’t understand it, but he knew you were the key to his pillar. No, you are his pillar
“Radio Demon, Alastor. Overlords before you has met me one way or another.” Your voice was so angelic that it felt like a crime that you’d be in Hell. Wait. He was in Hell? It felt like paradise. “I have a collection of souls at my disposal and I control the Overlords I have picked to be in my collection.”
“I wish to join.” He spoke so urgently as he fell to a kneeling position with his eyes staring at your form, he felt like if he delayed, it was life or death.
A melodiously chuckle came from your curved lips that was a small smile. Your hand that had a Cage perched on it flicked and the Cage was airborn. You offered your hand to him, “If you do, you’ll be giving me your soul. I’m sure you know what that means.”
“I don’t care.” Alastor spoke with confidence firmly. “As long as I am by your side.”
Alastor held his heart stop when your eyes opened, it was captivating that his eyes focused on that the moment your eyelids revealed them to him. It felt it it was his birthday present and Christmas gift all wrapped in one. He saw his reflection from your eyes, the softness of your hand broke him from his trance, and the joyous tone from your voice got him melting into you, “As you wish. My Dear Alastor.”
Over the next few days, you have been observing the hotel residence after you little reveal
Lucifer was acting like a kicked puppy but soon recovered after you joined him in making breakfast for the others. He happily started singing and skipping around to make your smile last. Of course, he apologized for not realizing you were trying to hide your identity
You brushed it off since what’s done is done. Better now than later since no bonds were formed just yet. It was similar to how you gave Alastor a taste of what was to happen after he gave you his soul that day. The entire situation in the forest was to show him that he was free yet caged in your hold, he knew what he was getting into
Well, Alastor did seem to be the type of soul that wanted dominance so you did that to test and see if he can obey commands before offering him your contract. You expected him to fight for control longer and more fiercely, yet that wasn’t the case since he committing to you and proving himself the moment he saw you
Charlie was an interesting case. There was some time where she was more careful with her words around you, perhaps scared that you’d snap at her like you did with her father. And the fact that you were his father’s teacher that he respects and prides himself with associating with you. But then when Alastor gave her a word of caution that you weren’t as scary as you seem, then she took her chance
You got it through to her that she could act the same with you as before. She did not hesitate after that, of course, still keeping in mind some boundaries. She was back to her cheerful and fun self around you. Even enjoying feeling like a grandparent was taking care of her and spoiling her. Though that didn’t mean you were lenient with her that you’ll overlook things
You offer advice from time to time when Charlie was busy planning activities. You advised her on how to use her authority and power when necessary, her kindness is her strength and weakness. More on the latter since this was Hell, a number of demons will take advantage of her and push her down. Sure she can fight back, but it wouldn’t be enough when they are perfectly aware of what buttons to push
Vaggie showed obvious suspicion and caution around you. She went as far as to avoid you and not stand in your path. When it was obvious Alastor listens to you without another word, it raised even more red flags in her mind because you were that powerful. Lucifer speaking highly of you was even worse
She heard of ‘The Collector’, some demons she killed when she was still an exterminator screamed that The Collector will reign supreme or that a terrible death will be passed down as judgement to them. Hellborns move to other circles when it’s extermination day, some might be unlucky to escaped but exterminators weren’t taught to tell the difference between hellborn and sinners
When she was abandoned in Hell, she learned that The Collector holds a vast ocean of souls at your command. It was a terrifying thought to know that if you wanted, war can beginning at the drop of your command
Hell has 7 Rings, each represents a sin and only the Pride Ring has sinners of human souls. But Heaven was just that one. A paradise on top of the clouds. Now that angels can be killed, if you so wished, can’t you take over Heaven as well?
You were aware of all Vaggie’s little fears. You didn’t mind it at first, but her paranoia was getting out of head when she tried to deter the others to stay clear of you. Namely Charlie since you have been caring for her since you was too young to even remember. Though being the sweet princess she is, tried to have Vaggie under you weren’t a threat
A duel, you offered Vaggie. If she won, you’d leave the hotel and never step near any of them under any circumstances. Alastor nearly snapped when Vaggie pushed you to offer since an absurd wager, you own all of Hell, why would such a rule even apply to you? But you raised your hand to Alastor so he’d calm down. If you win, well, Vaggie will stop with all this ‘you’re the bad guy’ talk
Everyone came to watch. Charlie tried to persuade Vaggie to call it off but failed. Meanwhile, Lucifer urged you to hold back since this was his daughter’s beloved girlfriend. You planned to do so anyways and everyone stayed on the sidelines
Vaggie readied her spear and summoned her wings. You smiled, your form changing to a familiar one. Carmilla. You skillfully dodged all the attacks Vaggie launched at you as though you were dancing. While the duel was still ongoing, you pointed out Vaggie’s flaws and weak points before you attacked once and the winner of the fight was decided
Afterwards, Vaggie was persistant in asking for your fighting lessons and techniques. It got to the point where Alastor would try to move you to another spot so that his time with you wouldn’t get continuously interrupted. To his dismay, you found amusement in the entirety of the situation
“How dare you try to steal what precious time I have from me!” Alastor glared at Vaggie.
“This is a connection between warriors! You butt out of this edge lord!” Vaggie remarked back.
You merely chuckled at the exchange and never said anything to side with either.
Angel hid his discomfortable of you from the others and acted as his usual self, as much as he can. The only ones that noticed his awkwardness was probably Husk and you. You had a hunch it was due to the fact that you own too many souls to count, he was under contract with Valentino. The poor soul
Pity as though it may be, it was his choice to be under that sorry excuse of an Overlord in the first place. He’s merely living the life he signed himself for. The same for Husk
Now Husk had the best reaction. He was the latest Overlord to be rejected from your collection, but not the fastest. He didn’t get anything guidance like how your current Elites (excluding the Vees) had, certainly never having Alastor’s treatment as well. For you saw gambling as a dangerous bet to support in. Where there’s a win, there’s always an even bigger lost
This was something you warned Husk after accepting him as an Overlord among your ranks. It certainly didn’t help when he was hosting more and more gambling parties and inviting other Overlords to join in. They participated but were quick to give him their input and warn to change a domain since you’ll be more supportive of it
Husk didn’t listen. He was winning and was blinded by that. So the other Overlords counted down till Husk was removed from the collection. It didn’t take long for your Overlords to realize they had a chance to pin down the former Overlord Husk to their command and show you their ability. Alastor took the job and the role of relying that he was abandoned
He didn’t know, he never knew. He reflected on that and found times when his fellow Overlords tried to help him and teach him the ropes, since these things aren’t something you’ll tell them. You like it when your Overlords are independent when they need to
So he shifted his focus like you advised so long ago. He gained the ability to read demons like a book as time gone by, so much so that he’d love to show it to you, but Alastor would never let that happen
When he saw you near, he tried offering you a drink or two. He wanted to talk, to say that he was sorry and that he was wrong. It’s always when he got to a suitable time to tell you that you were pulled away by one thing or another
He thought he lost his chance again until you met him in the hallway when he was retreating to his room to get some shuteye
“Husk, my former soul.” Your words made him freeze and turn to you, there was that small smile on your face that made you look so serene and neutral to everything. “I hope you continue your time here in service to the dear Princess and the hotel as Alastor has assigned you.”
“But I…”
“Until I call for you.” You cut him off as your smile widened, “Don’t worry about anything and try to build your power back, I see that you have learned your lesson.” You snapped your fingers and a card with an eye design on it appeared, you passed it to him, “Alastor knows my thoughts on the matter, so I hope you won’t disappoint me again.”
Husk bowed deeply, his wings relaxed that they touched the floor almost entirely, “Yes, I will, Master.”
You chuckled and showed him a hologram of him protecting and caring for Angel. “Do you know?” Husk looked up, unsure of why you showed him something like this. “That an Overlord can challenge another to gain the soul contract that’s signed?”
Husk’s eyes widened at the message you conveyed.
You made a hush motion over your lips as your eyes peeked open, “Let’s keep this between us. If you manage to prove yourself, there’s more to come and more to receive. Though that all depends on your willingness. Husk.”
Note: I'm so curious on your thoughts for this one~ There's Alastor's little backstory to how he became the way he is and then the little ending here~ Hehe
Well~ Like I said before, the next uploads are for {Unwanted Soul}
Circe Y.
My Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)
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How would tfp cons react to their human female s/o got captured by Airachnid?
Sorry for typos or any kind of mistakes 😭 I lose my darn concentration while writing this long
Hope you like it! 💜
STICKY SITUATION
✦ TFP Decepticons x reader ✦
2nd person
female reader
AU where the reader has joined the Decepticons and mostly works in the lab or helps with repairing
reader is captured by Airachnid mostly because of her envy
kidnapping, possessiveness, threats, heated arguments/fight (physical)
injuries, blood, rescue, comfort
MEGATRON
Airachnid would hunt you down, wrap you in that sticky web-like substance of hers and bring you to lord Megatron with an excuse that you sabotaged a project and set the whole lab on fire while in fact it was her doing
Accusing you of unloyalty while standing before Megatron's feet, you'd scream and beg him to listen to you, claiming Airachnid is lying
Airachnid: SILENCE, YOU TRAITOROUS RODENT!
She would shout as she'd seal your mouth with the sticky substance
Your lord would observe, doubting you'd do anything like that. As he'd look into your pleading, innocent, tormented eyes, his spark would ache. Not that he expressed it. He'd rather perish than express his vulnerability for you
Then he'd look into Airachnid's eyes full of hope that he’d tear you into tiny pieces of young flesh as he’d get struck by her tiny, devilish grin
Airachnid: my lord. Your wish is my command. I can inflict indescribable pain on her if you let me. She deserves it.
Megatron: no. She does not.
Would be all he'd say before he'd walk to you and free you. You'd start desperately trying to explain yourself but he'd nonchalantly interrupt you:
Megatron: accidents happen. You shall proceed. Shockwave awaits your assistance back in the lab.
He'd give an order and wait for you to leave. Then he'd walk back to Airachnid who'd be in pure shock
Megatron: if you want to terminate her, lying to your leader would be the unwisest way to do it.
Airachnid: my liege-
Megatron: SILENCE! Do such thing again and you shall be the one torn to pieces by my own bare hands. DO YOU UNDERSTAND!?
Airachnid: yes, my liege... *as she'd reluctantly bow*
Megatron: and stay away from her. She is far more useful than you are, Airachnid.
Naughty you would stay close to the door and listen. You'd giggle to yourself as you'd hear your master play favorites
Airachnid is not oblivious though. She noticed he cares for you which she'll use against him. She would already start making new plans on how to get rid of you, lord Megatron's pet.
💜
STARSCREAM
He’d be in shock when he’d get a report from the vehicons that you’ve been attacked by Airachnid
He’d order his soldiers to show him where you are as he’d call for backup
When he’d find you wrapped in a cocoon upside down in a storage room, being threatened by Airachnid, he’d order her to stay down as he’d aim his rockets at her
Airachnid: oh please, Starscream. Like a couple of your cloned servants could stop me.
Starscream: you fool! Free her this instant or perish.
Airachnid: so it is true~ commander Starscream has a new pet human~
Starscream: I do not care for… a human! I am simply fulfilling my duty! We need her for the project!
Airachnid would hiss and threaten to slice your throat
Airachnid: and why would that stop me from getting rid of this infestation!
Starscream: Megatron will have your head! And so will I.
An evil smirk would grow on Screamer’s face plate as they’d charged their weapons at her. She’d reluctantly and angrily release you, making you painfully drop on the floor and yelp
Airacnid: until next time, rodent.
She’d say as she’d crawl her way out of the storage room, disappointed that her plan of getting rid of you had failed
Starscream would slice the cocoon open and free you as he’d emotionlessly tell you to get up.
You’d thank him as he’d walk you out and say:
Starscream: not a word to anyone about this, got it?
Totally into you but his dignity and ego can’t allow him to admit he fell in love with one from the species he hates the most
💜
KNOCKOUT
Knockout: YOU WHAT!?
Airachnid: relax, Knockout~ No one will even notice she’s gone~ and we both know everyone dislikes her-
Knockout: I DON’T- I mean- WE DON’T! Lord Megatron needs her to complete this project! She became one of the key members of the lab, I-
Airachnid: indeed. Indeed she did. She’s taking your position. Soon, lord Megatron will replace you with her.
Her cunning aft would try to manipulate him
Knockout: the only one who can be replaced on this ship is you! You’re afraid of her. Now tell me where she is before I cut you into pieces!
He’d say as he’d get his saw out and aggressively rev it at her to which she wouldn’t even flinch, bluffing
Airachnid: calm down, doctor, it isn’t a big deal. Just a little game I like playing with her. And my my~ so it is true~ doctor does have his favorite assistant after all~
Knockout would groan and go look for your. He’d turn the whole ship upside down until he’d find you somewhere well hidden with tied limbs
He’s dramatically scream and free you carefully as he’d baby talk to you
Knockout: look what that wretched femme did to you! Nt nt nt… Don’t worry, little one, I won’t let that creepy spider lady get near you ever again, no no~ Doctor’s promise~
Y/N: don’t say that ever again-
Knockout: what I thought it’s cute-
As he’d carry you back to the lab and shower you with kisses
💜
BREAKDOWN
She knows how much he cares for you and how easily distracted he gets which she’d cunningly use against him in battle
She’d capture you and make you hang upside down a thick tree branch the moment he’d attack her
Airachnid: are you sure you want to play this game again, Breakdown? Because we have a new contestant~
Breakdown would freeze as he’d see you desperately trying to scream with your mouth sealed
Airachnid: I think she wants to say hello to her precious boyfriend~
She’d say as she’d free your mouth and let you scream for Breakdown. But instead you’d encourage him:
Y/N: BEAT HER ASS, BREAKDOWN!!!
To which he’d frown and power up, get his hammer out and roar like an animal as he’d charge at her
You’d watch the epic boss battle and keep encouraging him until all of your blood would flow down to your head and make you feel unwell
Airachnid: hurry up, boyfriend~ You chose a very delicate being for your lover~ She will die if you don’t get her down in time~
Breakdown: YOU TALK TOO MUCH!
She tried distracting him more but instead she only made his anger grow. His helm boiled as he kept mercilessly hammering her
The moment he knocked her out and yeeted her somewhere, he rushed to get you down. He panicked a little but managed to rescue you on time
Breakdown: you’re the best life coach even when you’re dying~
He had to pull a cheesy joke
💜
DREADWING
She’d pull the same trick on him like on Breakdown
She’d use you as his biggest weakness - fear of losing his closest ones just like he lost his brother…
Both of you would have your limbs tied as she’d make you face each other
Airachnid: now that we have the whole scene set~
Dreadwing: Airachnid, do not be a fool. You are playing with fire. Release her this instant!
Airachnid: or what!?
She’d say as she’d give you a big, deep scratch across the back and make you yelp
Dreadwing: NO!
Airachnid: watch her suffer.
In a blink of an eye she’d stab your torso by the side with one of her eight unsettlingly long legs and make you bleed badly
Dreadwing would scream as he’d desperately try to free himself. Filled with fury, he’d manage to rip the sticky substance that was tied around his wrists
Dreadwing: YOU WILL NOT TAKE THE ONLY THING THAT I CARE FOR IN MY LIFE!
He’d jump her and obliterate her, making her run away with deadly wounds
As he’d kneel next to your wounded body, he’d free you and gently pick you up and request an immediate ground bridge.
He’d watch your fragile, almost lifeless body curling in his servos…
Dreadwing: do not fear, my love. I shall take care of you. You will not leave this world. Not while I stand…
💜
SOUNDWAVE
She thought she could just snatch you from the lab while you were alone and get rid of you that easily
She forgot Soundwave, that has developed strong feelings for you, is the eyes and ears of the ship
He’d cut her off in one of the hallways and have a stare down
You’d scream for help
Airachnid: silence! And stand down, Soundwave. Her playtime with big robots has officially come to an end.
He’d launch his tentacles at her and try to zap her which she’d avoid while running towards him
He would maneuver wisely and swiftly while trying to snatch you from her servos
You’d get slightly injured due to their “doll snatching” game
The moment he’d managed to get his servos on you, he’d create a ground bridge right underneath her
As she was about to fall into it, he’d grab one of her creepy legs and speak:
Soundwave: Soundwave superior. Airachnid inferior.
Before he’d let her fall into the portal and teleport somewhere, precisely above the ocean
Y/N: you… you can speak?
To which he’d just look at you and put his index finger across the lower part of his face plate, gesturing this shall stay a secret
💜
SHOCKWAVE
Shockwave: I find your behavior… illogical.
He’d say in his usual monotone voice, trying to calm the situation down as he’d catch her wanting to preform torturing experiments on you in the lab
Airachnid: don’t be naive, Shockwave~ You and I both know she’s nothing but an infestation on this ship!
Shockwave: that statement is illogical as well, Airachnid. She is my assistant.
Airachnid: oh curse your assistant!
Y/N: Shockwave! Please!
The moment he’d hear his secret lover plead, he’d charge his blaster at her
Shockwave: do not test me, Airachnid. You clearly are not aware of my abilities.
He’d say as he’d start slowly approaching the berth she held you captive on
Airachnid: oh no, dearest Shockwave. Clearly it is you who isn’t aware of our common enemies!
And there comes another epic boss fight. To your surprise it was quite short
Shockwave broke two of her spider legs with ease as he’d throw her around the lab
He did completely or mildly damage some of his equipment but at that point he couldn’t care less. All he cared about is your well being
Shockwave: take advantage of this situation and leave with dignity before I call reinforcements and inform Megatron of your disgraceful act.
Sometimes words can hurt more than actions. She hissed at him and crawled out of the lab
He released you and earned heartwarming gratitude from you
Shockwave: I have always found her way of perception… illogical.
Dividers belong to @kiwicidios , @firefly-graphics and @kimjiho1 💜
#transformers#transformers x reader#tfp#transformers prime#decepticons#tfp decepticons#tfp megatron#tfp starscream#tfp knockout#tfp breakdown#tfp dreadwing#tfp soundwave#tfp shockwave#megatron x reader#starscream x reader#knockout x reader#breakdown x reader#dreadwing x reader#soundwave x reader#shockwave x reader
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Steve was used to climbing out windows. Before his junior year, he’d made a habit of entering through and escaping from girls' houses unnoticed. He was stealthy. He’d learned how to scale trees and tread lightly across roof shingles with the deftness of a nocturnal animal. Yet, for the first time, he found himself escaping his own home. There was a first time for everything, right?
Steve’s parents were home. The second Steve saw the familiar BMW pull into the Harrington’s driveway, he knew he wanted to be anywhere but home. His parents were only palatable when he had good news, but all he had to tell them was that after their last visit, The Mall had burnt down and he’d gotten a new job at a video store. He really was doing the family proud. He didn’t want to deal with it, not today.
That’s how he found himself crawling out his bedroom window, shimmying across the guttering and trying not to sprain his ankles as he dropped onto the lawn. He headed out back, past his pool and into the woods. Usually, it was the last place you’d find Steve. He kept expecting to run into a Demogorgon or something equally as nasty.
He walked for a while without direction, trudging through the underbrush until the rustling of leaves behind him set his teeth on edge. His body moved before his mind had time to keep up. He spun on his heels, hand scrabbling to the forest floor in search of a weapon. It supplied him with a fallen tree branch, almost too large to heft comfortably, but he did it, running on adrenaline. He came face to face with a familiar, wide-eyed boy.
“Holy shit, Harrington. Take it down like ten notches,” the boy grumbled, showing his upturned hands as though trying to calm a startled animal.
Hawkins was a small town, the kind of place where everybody knew everybody. Steve knew the boy with deep brown eyes and dark hair, halloed by fallen leaves, was none other than Eddie Munson, or as he was colloquially known, ‘The Freak’. They’d gone to high school together. He thought the guy was due to repeat his senior year, again. He didn’t know what he was doing alone in the woods.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked.
You couldn’t blame him for being on high alert. Even if Eddie was someone he’d grown up with, that didn’t make him safe. Steve was still riled up after running down Billy Hargrove with his car. He was paranoid. He’d had a rough couple of years.
“Collecting sticks,” Eddie breathed, indicating the large bundle in his hand.
“Collecting sticks?” Steve echoed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t fathom why the guy was doing it.
“Yeah, I’m making a miniature log cabin for my D&D campaign, and you know, miniature logs are just... sticks—you don’t care, anyway. Sorry for startling you, my liege.” Steve tilted his head, thinking the acronym was familiar.
“Is that the dragon game, with the Demogorgon and junk?” Eddie looked at Steve like he’d sprouted a third head.
“How the hell do you, Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, know what D&D is?”
Steve wished people would stop calling him that. Every time he heard the stupid nickname it felt like someone was rubbing chunks of asphalt into his gravel rash. He wondered if Eddie felt the same about his title.
The old Steve would’ve used it just to spite the guy, to see what buttons he could push, not because he wanted to but because it was expected of him. It wasn’t an excuse. He knew that. Instead, Steve shrugged his shoulders and told the truth, something the old Steve never would’ve done.
“I babysit some nerds who play it,” he confessed.
Eddie looked at Steve in wonder. He was puzzled, amazed and, for once, a little intrigued. He’d never looked at Steve like that back in high school. The two rarely crossed paths and when they did, they never spoke. Sure, Eddie ranted about ‘jocks’ as a whole, but Steve had always just been one piece of a puzzle. It would seem redundant to yell at a patch of blue and grey for being a picture of the sky.
“Why did you need to take up a babysitting gig?”
To answer that, Steve had to embellish a little. Maybe he no longer liked lying about who he was, but he couldn’t exactly dump the cosmic mind fuck that was The Upside Down on some unsuspecting guy.
“I needed money.”
“You needed money? What, did you get cut off?” Steve shrugged in response.
“Christ, what did you do? Piss in a family urn? Trash the house? Get a girl pregnant?” Eddie questioned.
“I think generally existing was enough to do it,” Steve mumbled, kicking at the dirt beneath his shoes.
Eddie let out a low whistle.
“Hey Harrington, think fast,” Eddie called, throwing the bundle of twigs in his direction. Steve dropped the branch and grabbed the bundle with wide eyes.
“What was that for?” Steve choked.
“What are you doing in this neck of the woods, anyway?” Eddie asked instead of responding. Steve shrugged, still cradling the bundle to his chest.
“Avoiding my parents.”
“You got any plans for the rest of the day?” Eddie spoke. Steve responded with a shake of his head.
“Well, you know, this really is a two-person job, so if you wanted to come back to my place, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
For some reason, Steve agreed.
Eddie had a habit of collecting strays.
There was the cat he’d kept under the bed when he was six and the gathering of stray dogs that hung around the back of the trailer park that he’d been feeding for as long as he could remember. The same theory applied to people. He made friends with the loners, the weird kids, the ones with wide eyes and nowhere to go. He was a bleeding heart, so sue him. However, he’d never expected Steve Harrington to trigger his urge to protect and befriend. That really hit Eddie out of left field.
Never in Eddie’s wildest dreams did he imagine he and Steve would be sitting across from each other at his small dining table, Steve’s knee pressed on the inside of Eddie’s thigh. The jock’s still hands held small bits of twigs in place as Eddie worked around him with his hot glue gun. The guy had seemed so lost, back in the woods, so unlike how Eddie remembered him. He knew about D&D for Christ’s sake. Eddie wondered if he’d woken up in an alternate universe because it seemed like Steve Harrington was actually a good dude.
He asked Eddie about his goddamn log cabin, tavern. Then he’d pushed deeper. ‘Why do you need a bar in a game about dragons’? To which Eddie explained, of course, you do more than just fight dragons, which appeared to be news to Steve. Besides his friends, no one showed interest in Eddie’s ‘stupid little fantasy game’. With Steve, questions came thick and fast. Eddie loved every second of it. When he’d asked why Steve cared so much, the guy had shrugged his shoulders and muttered,
“I might be able to impress the kids.”
Eddie decided to ask about ‘the kids’. He and Steve didn’t have much in common. Sure, the two could commiserate about high school together, but neither man was in the mood to do that. And god, Steve could talk about ‘the kids’.
“I run a D&D club called Hellfire. If they’re starting high school this year, send ‘em my way. I’ll tuck your little ducklings under my wing. Keep the big scary jocks away from ‘em,” Eddie noted, feeling comfortable enough with Steve to take a jab at him. Steve surprised him again by snorting out a laugh.
“Make sure you do. That Jason kid’s a senior, right? Total psychopath. The kid would peg basketballs at pigeons.”
By the time the sun set, the boys were in stitches and had a fairly decent log cabin to show for a day’s work. Eddie was surprised that the idea of Steve leaving set a pit in his stomach.
“Hey, Steve? We should do this again,” Eddie proposed, and Steve was too quick to agree.
“I have work tomorrow morning, but how about the afternoon?”
Eddie hadn’t expected the guy to be as keen as he felt.
“It’s a date,” Eddie agreed, before promptly wanting to shove his head through a miniature log cabin. A date? Really, Munson?
A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his too-tight jeans. Mind out of the gutter, Munson. You were doing so well.
“You’re weird, you know that?” Steve remarked, running his hand through his trademark hair, and yeah, Eddie should’ve expected that.
Now Steve was going to call him a Freak, the ‘King Steve’, he’d heard about would make an appearance and Eddie would be glad he dodged a bullet by cutting his crush off at the knees before it had the chance to grow legs.
“Weird is good,” Steve corrected, seeming aware of Eddie’s inner turmoil.
“One thing I’ve learnt about myself since high school is that I like weird.”
Oh, no. Eddie was so gone for Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.
Read Part 2
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie drabble#steddie ficlet#drabble#ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#alternative 'first' meeting#pre season 4#long post#I always forget to tag that#just assume all my drabbles#are long posts tbh#thing I had to google to write this#'when were hot glue guns invented'?#apparently the 50s#Metalhoops writes
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The Harrington Pattern Part 1
Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late uploading today, but I went to bed early last night and forgot to schedule this.
Oops!
But! Welcome to what I've been calling Steve is a History Nerd agenda. We see in season two on Steve's essay for colleges that he can link his grandfather's military service with his prowess on the basketball court.
It is also surprisingly well written. *shakes fist at the Duffers stop telling us he's stupid and then showing the opposite, please! Let him be smart, too!*
Summary: The Renaissance Fair is finally back in Hawkins after three year absence (Starcourt was built on the fair site and after the fire it was bulldozed back to it's original field). Everyone is excited, even Steve to everyone's amazement. But Steve is hiding other hidden depths as he offers to help the kids make their costumes for the Fair.
Lucas is struggling with being both a nerd and a jock and fears the judgment of his friends. Steve sets out to help him overcome those doubts to be himself.
Tagging the untaggable: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
***
Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. Even Robin expected him to side with her about the dust and the filth. Eddie expected him to be dismissive of the fantasy aspect of it.
Boy were they all wrong.
For it was Steve to bring up to the group after a rather successful D&D session.
In his hand was a bright pink flier and a wide grin on his face.
“Guys! The Ren Fair is back this year,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ll finally be able to show off that tunic I’ve been working on.”
All heads turned to Steve in shock.
There was a cacophony of questions.
“Since when did you know how to sew?”
“What do you mean back? I didn’t even know Hawkins had one to begin with!”
“You want to go to the Ren Fair?”
“Why would you want to spend all day in the heat and dirt?”
Steve looked around at all off his friends in shock.
“Guys, I love the Ren Fair,” he muttered. “Didn’t you guys know?”
All their jaws dropped.
And Eddie? Eddie felt an icicle to the heart at the sight of Steve’s hurt expression.
“You’ll pardon the peasants, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing grandly. “I’m afraid we have all be harboring under the delusion that Ren Fairs were beneath your notice.”
Steve blinked at him a moment. “But I love that stuff. It’s the history and sword fights and jousting. It’s the like medieval Olympics. It’s the romance and chivalry of knights fighting for a fair maiden’s hand. It’s getting to dress up in fancy clothes and rip into turkey legs like a savage. What’s not to like?”
Dustin frowned. “Who here knew Steve liked history?”
Robin and Nancy raised their hands. They looked around waiting for me people to join them. But they stayed down.
Steve ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the edge of his sneaker.
“The ex-girlfriend I’ll buy,” Dustin continued. “But Robin didn’t become friends with Steve until after he graduated so how did she know?”
Robin blinked at them owlishly. “You mean you guys don’t know?”
Everyone looked around each other and then shook their heads.
“Steve was in my AP history class my junior year,” she said as if this was know fact.
“You do know that AP stands for advance placement, right?” Mike asked.
Eddie smacked the back of his head. “She was in it, dude. Don’t be an ass.”
Steve looked up at him and smiled a little.
Good, Eddie thought. Nothing like a little Mike violence to cheer up Steve.
“He wrote an essay for early placement college exams,” Nancy said. “He didn’t get a chance to turn it in because of our second go round with the Upside Down, but it was really good. It needed a little neatening up with the actual writing, but the history was solid.”
Steve blushed. “Thanks.”
Dustin looked skeptical. “What’s your favorite part of history?”
Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I liked hearing about my grandpa’s time in the US army during WWII, but that was more because he made it interesting. But I really like the Industrial Revolution. Or rather the first Industrial Revolution. There have been four. The first one was from 1760-1840 and featured heavily in the textile movement.”
The room was silent.
“Why textiles, Stevie?” Eddie asked as the silence grew awkward.
Steve lit up like a child at Christmas morning and he began talking about the British textile movement.
“What the hell?” Dustin huffed, breaking into Steve monologue.
Steve ducked his head again and blushed. “Just because I’m not interested in science and fantasy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” He straightened up. “And yeah, sometimes I get things wrong. But everyone does at some point. In fact I get a hell of a lot more flack for my intelligence than Eddie does and he repeated his senior year twice!” He took a deep breath and then ran his fingers through his hair.
“No offense,” he said waving to Eddie.
Eddie looked up at him with earnest eyes. “None taken. I concur.”
They all looked around at each other in shock. Like they hadn’t realized that they had done that.
After a few moments, Steve put his hands on his hips and pointed at all of them.
“So do you guys want to go or what?”
Eddie sat back with a smile as everyone roared their approval.
*
“No corsets,” was Robin’s only firm and fast rule for Steve when it came to dressing her up for the Ren Fair.
Steve looked her up and down. “Why on earth would I want you in a corset? Have you looked in the mirror?”
“Uh...” Robin said. “Is that a trick question? Of course I have. I don’t what that has to do with saying no to corsets though...”
Steve rolled his eyes. “In order to give you the curve you need to match the proper silhouette you would need to be cinched to hell. And as this is supposed to be fun.”
He grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward his car.
“Where are we going?”
“Thrifting!” he said with glee.
It took three different stores and a stop at the mall to get everything he needed.
“Give me three days,” he told her when he dropped her off at her house. “And I think you’ll like what I come up with.”
Robin eyed him warily. “If you say so.”
Steve laughed.
He crashed the next D&D session, showing up early to pick them up.
“What is everyone wearing to the Ren Fair?�� he asked with a note pad on his lap and wagged the pen in his fingers.
“You want us to dress up?” Mike asked, eyes wide.
“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “I’ve made my costume and currently reworking some thirfted threads for Robin’s outfit.”
Eddie blinked. “You made your costume?”
Steve shrugged again. “Yeah. I like sewing.”
There was suddenly an uproar and he held up a hand. “I can’t make you a full outfit before the Fair, but I can make over already made clothes to make them more historical. And maybe for next year I’ll have the time to make something special for everyone.”
Dustin eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”
“Like tailoring pants to a tighter fit,” Steve explained “adding a sash or belt, turning old coats into vests and cloaks, things like that.”
They still weren’t sure how that would work out.
“Now I talked to Joyce and Claudia,” he continued. “And they’re both willing to help out in making sure everyone has something nice to wear. That includes Max and El.”
“Are the fair maidens joining us?” Eddie asked.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. Joyce is doing El and Will, Claudia is doing Dustin and Mike, and I’m doing Lucas and Max. Eddie said he already had a costume, so I didn’t have to worry about him.”
Eddie grinned. “You better believe it, pretty boy.”
Steve ducked his head and blushed. “So we’re all going thrifting with a $5 limit for each of you. But I wanted to brainstorm some ideas of what you wanted to go as so we don’t waste time wandering around.”
Everyone started shouting at once and it took Steve a good ten minutes before he got everyone calmed down enough to get what they wanted. Dustin wanted to go as a hobbit, but Steve had to nix that one.
“You don’t want to go running around the grounds barefoot,” he explained with a wince. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m going to have to agree with Stevie on this one,” Eddie said. “You guys have never been but there is all sorts of stuff laying around. It’s not indoors and the pathways are dirt lined. Think the state fair. It’s more like that then going to comic book convention.”
Dustin grumbled but conceded the point. Steve got them to decide on... well not quite peasant gear, but more rough around the edges than what Steve would be wearing.
Well, all but Lucas. He didn’t want to wear what they were wearing but he refused to say what he did want to wear.
So Steve dropped him off at home last.
They pulled into his driveway and Steve turned to him. “Do you not want to dress up? Because I won’t make you.”
Lucas picked at the loose string on his sweater. “It’s not that. I just remember the last time we did a group costume and they all thought I should be Winston because I was black like he was.”
Steve frowned for a moment. “The Ghostbusters, right?”
Lucas nodded. “I knew if I brought it up they’d shoot me down again.”
“So what did you want to go as?” he asked.
Lucas huffed out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid pipe dream anyway. Especially since you have to make Max’s dress and Robin’s costume, too.”
He opened the door to get out, but Steve reached over and slammed it closed.
“One, Robin’s costume is almost done,” he said counting out on his fingers. “Two, do you really think your girlfriend is going to want to wear a dress? And three, let me be the judge on what’s too much for me, okay?”
Lucas huffed a laugh at his second point. “Yeah, that was dumb of me.”
“So what is it?”
Lucas looked down again and heaved out a sigh. “An elf.”
Steve’s mind was whirling with the possibilities. “What colors?”
“What?” Lucas asked, not sure he heard Steve right.
“What colors would you want it to be?”
He pulled out the notebook and scrambled for a pen. Lucas pulled a pencil out of his bag and handed it to him.
“Uh I was thinking of a light blue and with a silver trim?” he said hesitantly.
Steve sketched something out. “Like this?”
Lucas leaned over to look at the drawing. “A little shorter so I’m not tripping over it and maybe those puffy pants?”
Steve adjusted the drawing and Lucas nodded.
“Yeah, like that.”
“All right,” Steve said. “I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It won’t be perfect because I don’t have time to do it right so I’ll be doing a lot of cheating. But yeah, it’s doable.”
Lucas gave him a hug. “Thanks, man.”
*
Steve called the one person he knew he could help him.
“Eddie,” he said the second the other man picked up. “I need your nerd connections to do a huge favor for Lucas.”
“Wha’cha got, big boy?” Eddie asked with a grin.
“You wouldn’t happen to know any Trekkies would you?” Steve asked chewing on his bottom lip.
“That depends, Stevie,” Eddie replied, “what’s the need?”
“Pointed ears.”
Eddie hummed. “I’m assuming you’re thinking Trekkie because of Spock and that’s a good thought. But I’m guessing since we’re going to the Ren Fair our stalwart ranger is wanting to be an elf?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “Do you know anyone who can help?”
“Better than that,” Eddie said. “I know where to get the ears in the right... shade?”
Steve perked up. “Oh? I’m guessing Jeff?”
“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I’ll give him a call and then call you back.”
“Thanks, Eds,” Steve breathed. “You’re the best.”
“Thanks, doll.”
****
I am so excited for this, guys. You have no idea. I'm little history nerd myself and this really fun to play around with.
Just a heads up. We WILL be addressing Mike's casual racism from the Ghostbusters scene because I don't like that it's never been addressed.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual
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Tԋҽ Sσϝƚҽʂƚ Lσʋҽ
summary: sometimes all you need is a gentle lover and a comforting hand, Jacaerys knows this all too well with you at his side and a crown at his temple
request: Hii can I request a softest love prompt 2&7 for Jace:))))
pairing: King!Jacaerys x reader
pronouns: she/her
dividers by: saradika and cafekitsune
wordcount: 2,659
prompts: 2. touching foreheads in a hug, 7. that gaze--tired, soft, their thumb gently rubbing your cheek, noses touching, silently mumbling an "i love you"
banners by myself
A/N: i really hope you enjoyed this anon! let me know!
“AND IF we are unable to find said payment or refuse, then it is a reasonable assumption to make that–” The droning speech of Isembard Arryn, Master of Coin, continues despite the Jacaerys’ clenching jaw and slitted gaze. “War is no solution.” Lord Cregan Stark swiftly interrupts him, glancing his King’s way as the words pass him. It is no secret that the King is not fond of division nor war. Jacaerys stays staring ahead, gaze hard and impenetrable.
“We have the money.” He contributes, voice uncharacteristically gruff. You squeeze his hand but as quickly as you can blink, he brings your palm to his lips and places a deft kiss there. Soft and gentle as it had always been. The council pauses at the motion then returns to the matter. They shift in discomfort, they continue to look at his stiff form. “I believe, our liege, that–” Lord Thaddeus Rowen, Master of Laws and lord justiciar begins.
“My Hand is right, let us rest on the matter.” Jacaerys snaps briskly. Lord Rowen clears his throat and lets a childish huff pass him.
“The decision should be made with haste, your grace, Lord Baratheon shall not be so kind. He will–” Arryn presses further before–
“We will let it rest!” Jacaerys shouts with suddenness. He stands and slams one cold, commanding fist against the table. Each breath is held at such an outburst and for once, the King is not blinking at the nothingness of a floor or blankly ahead. Purpose takes flight in his eyes, directing their focus as sharp as a blade on the infuriating man.
Silence presides over the table, It echoes and flickers with the rage of a King’s charge. Your King had spoken and if his council continued to defy him, you were certain that it would end less than favourably for them. And so, you circle your thumb of his hand and latch your eyes on the side of his face until the pull of your attention tugs him back to you. His eyes lock on your own–at first they stare with the stark hardness of stone. They swim with slitted irritation and glare with a gruffness unknown to you. But he is still your Jacaerys and it takes not long before he softens at your own gaze, you are enough to gentle him. You always are. Jacaerys swallows and turns his gaze back on his dispersing council. “I meant not to frighten you.” He uttered quietly. His body lightened like a feather and his sights trained on the stone table before him. As easily as he does so, you stand and cup his face with your unarmed hand. Your fingers flatten against his face and turn him once more before you. “You could never frighten me.” You reply simply, closing your eyes. Simpleness was your most favourable quality. Everything you cast him was with ease, no secrets stood between you both. It was a relief after so long at troublesome court for you both. A bated huff fluttered with purpose through his nose and it took little for the both of you to rest your foreheads together. He releases shuddered breaths which follow the seam of your mouth. “I love you.” He whispers. A smile pinches at your lips.
“I love you too.” You return as the doors swing shut. Another sigh passes through your husband and relaxation washes over him.
Finally everyone has left, Jacaerys’ arms wrap around you and fingers are already pawing at your gown. It comforts him to feel you, to clench that fabric up in his balled hands and know you’re there. What feels even better however is when a warm, firm kiss is planted against your forehead. And then you hear the most lyrical words…“I love you so much I can barely breathe.” And you let out a shaky exhale. You flutter against him and it almost entices his arms to hold you tighter. The sweetness of his voice plays like a melody through your ears until they circle your brain and lull it to stop the whirring. The whirring that had become so painfully familiar. So painfully consistent. It reminds you of your lover. Not your husband but your lover. The marriage had been chosen for you but that did not mean that your love had been, as Jacaerys cares to remind you each eve as he twists those silken fingers through your hair, as he kisses his affection down your neck until caressed bruises lay in his wake and colour with the pink of his love. Because he does love you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves–He loves to be yours, he reminds you as he pulls away. The drapes flutter the cold air inside as swiftly as you can imagine wings could. It folds over you in the space between yourself and your husband. Slowly, your eyes open to find him already gazing at you with his wear lovesick gaze. The gaze that buckles your knees and has you unable to as much as glance away from him. Not for a single moment.
A shaky sigh sputters from The King of Just’s lips. The people had named him as such after the activities of his on-running reign. Of the odd mercy that he had approached his former enemies with. You think of these events as his fingers dance into your hair. His eyes follow fast to his own actions, fascinated in the treasure within those fingers. Of what he has been blessed to hold, he vows to hold you dearly. Tenderly. Softly. As he does so, your own sights linger on his face. At his pillowed lips and dark, thick eyelashes. At the short scar that stretches along his jaw and chin. The tips of your own fingers flutter toward it like a moth to light. Your thumb lays gentle touch upon it and smooths along the surface. Again, a sigh passes through him but with the gentleness of a doe. With the timid, uncertain glance of a doe. The thought amuses you but you allow it to settle. Breath threads between you both and tugs you ever closer. Ever where you belong. But when he finally presses a kiss to your lips, it barely greets the skin. There is something divinely religious in the way he caresses your lips with his like an idol. Worship dances along his tongue and almost expels prayers from his warm mouth. His thumb detangles from your hair and cups your face. His thumb rolls slow circles into your cheek as his kisses press on between unkempt words. “I love you.” He utters in repetition. “I love you, I love you,” His nose burrows into the side of your own until you almost become one body entwined only with itself. The words tangle themselves in the sweetest patterns throughout your brain and chest.
Your face turns to face the tall dark door. “They must know that war will not be sustainable.” Utters through you, the spell of confusion and aged bewilderment leaves through an exhale. “We have funds to cease such affairs, why cause a fate of destruction?” Jacaerys feels his jaw soften and his eyes stare distantly into your face. With two gentle fingers, he turns you back towards him. “Men will destroy aplenty for power. I know that all too well.” His gruff words murmur through the air. Your eyes stare into the harsh darkness of his gaze – warm amber turns to stone. Your eyes continue to trace down his ridged nose and chiselled jaw, his plump lips. Something possesses you to caress them with your thumb – slowly parting them until his teeth peek out like shining pearls. His throat bobs but his shoulders stay calm as he leans in again. Jace had been not only your dearest love but your most sweet and that meant more to you than words could ever detail. His lips brush against yours before diving between them and all you can remember is that he feels like home. Jace feels like home. Your Jace. His soft love addresses you and only you – he needs not hide it from anyone. Not even from irritative lords in council chambers. Because you were not only his wife but his Queen. And he has no intent to keep that a discretion. His kiss blossoms your flesh like the blooming of your affection; tentative, tender and tenacious. You would not release it for the world. Not for any Kingdom or cure from mortality for you would happily die in his embrace. Endure any erratic wars or gruelling hardship. It is hard to imagine that you would ever deny him your kiss – the memory flutters the reverberation of a laugh from your mouth.
Jacaerys has never thought himself one to offend but even less so to cater to the whimsy of romance, yet the moment your laugh reaches his ears, he feels himself reflect one himself. The hair of his fringe passes your own forehead as your press ever-closely together. The thought of parting from you for even a moment brings him heartache. His hands wrap atop the circle of your waist and squeeze with a playfulness unknown to those outside your threshold. “What is that which has you fluttering?” He delights in good charm. He cups your face with one broad, warm hand and rubs the skin. “Hm? What has my dereworthy darling fluttering so?” His amusement only triggers you moreso. When you return him your gaze, Jacaerys can recall why he wished to paint your face upon glass. He wishes to keep your sculpted, smiling face forever in view. It matters not should you outlive him so long as he need not spend a single moment without the sweet, shining eyes of yours. The brows of his face cannot help but droop at your mere sight. His expression stays tender and intense. How could he ever meet a woman of your beauty? He is certain that your charms were not merely a gift of Gods but the heavens themselves. “My joy, I nearly refused you.” It is that of befuddlement which pinches and clouds your pleasant face. A shake of your head rustles the strands of your hair. “How could I ever have refused you? My heart…”
A chuckle rumbles throughout the King’s chest and he tucks the brushes of hair behind your ears. His sights skid across your features but not in search – he has every answer he could ever need and in the safest of vaults. The vault of his heart. You truly were the sweetest of wines, the holder of hidden truths and the wielder of worlds – his at least. “Tis not your fault, you had not met my charms until our day.” At the mention of such a date, he earned his years of prize – your smile.
“To all truth, such an hour frightened me once.”
“I know.” He murmured, grinning like a feline. “Of course, then I knew too.” Your eyes widened and the shortest intake rushed to your mouth. “Surely, you jest!” You all but scold, horror in your eyes. He shakes his head, humour all-consuming as he doubles over and squeezes his eyes. “I do not!” Jacaerys claims. “I was quite nerved by it, for what reason is it that had you to assume I not taken you to bed that eve if not your considerations?” His left brow rises and the air suddenly feels stifling.
“I…” You stumble with abash. “I had presumed you had not taken a liking to me yet.” At that, Jace is quick to disagree and nuzzle his nose to yours.
“I could never not want for you, sweet wife. You are the most beautiful of women and the most kind.” Your head tilts in that darling way that it only calls for when you are unclued. “For days I–” His voice lowers, his gaze flickers over your face. With a swallow, he summons his courage and rubs his thumb over your jawline. “For days, I took witness to your reading in the gardens. To my cousin on her walks there.”
You had not realised he had seen you with little Jaehaera. The recollection of memories flushes your cheeks. You do not know whether it is your own self-pride or embarrassment. It makes him smile–how easily he can fluster you. “I saw you while passing a window and…Well, you charmed me. Heart and soul, you charmed me.” For a moment, all he can do is stare into your eyes, his gaze soft.
“I…” You hesitate, wracking your mind for any clue of the past to which you had ignored but you find nothing. “I had no idea.” You murmur with the quietness of a newborn lamb. He only smiles.
“I know, my darling.” Tease carries through his voice. “That is why I love you so; you had not a clue as to anyone witnessing you and your beauty at all.” Adoration was not new to Jacaerys; he had been well accustomed to the Goddess before him for years now. The hand not upon your face runs small circles on your middle. “It is when nobody is watching that I see your heart.” He lands a feather-light kiss to your nose. “I love you, my darling, I love you.”
Your love is one of quiet halls and whispered confessions. Your love is of a King seeking for the mercy only his QUeen can bring him. The mercy of a gentle home. A gentle life amidst the meddling and politics of a life forever in court. You admit that your own love for your husband came later–the fear of marrying a prince heavy on your mind. The expectation that would come with that also gives no bounds. You still recall how trembles had shaken your form as your father hurried you through the luxurious spectacle. The aisle had been a long, empty space in where you could barely catch the face of your soon-husband and Septon. Surrounded by men and women, ladies and lords of note and yet you had not known nor met. Yet when you had finally forced your figure to stand beside the three men who would cement your future, the only calm you found was through the comfort and Jacaerys’ hand resting on yours. Both of your fates to be entwined and tied. You were together, hands warm and clammy with nerves but together. You were not alone. When he searched your eyes for any hesitance throughout the ceremony and whispered in your ear to ask if you were certain–that was when you knew. You were not alone. He would not allow you to be alone.
Now, as tears kiss your cheeks. Of affection and warmth–you can still see that look in his gaze. That kind, soft, assurance that you are not alone. “I love you.” You whispered to him, unable to hold back. It does not take long at all for him to press his lips to yours again. His hands caress your face and his care is unavoidable. And when you parted, he still chased for you. “We should retire to bed. The children will have missed us.” You explain quietly, reluctant to leave. A sigh spills from him and although you both stand there together for another second of tenderness, of softness, you know that he agrees. Ever the dutiful father. He would not let a single eve leave them without a story before their rest. “Do you think they would prefer another tale of Nymyria?”
“I think they would care greatly for it.” You agree. He takes your hand in his and draws you out of the chamber. The door closes quietly and so are your footsteps as the two of you walk through the hall. The soft rays of sunlight passing down to caress the dusk echoes around you. And like his love–some things are better kept soft.
General Taglist: - @hopelesswritergall - @succnfuccubus - @madame-fear
HOTD Taglist - @wrendermedone - @its-actually-minicika - @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly - @adelusionalwriter - @cookielovesbook-akie - @maximofftwinsbitch - @ughhthisbitch - @daenerysapologist - @savagemickey03
Jacaerys Taglist
- @fairysluna - @jacevelaryonswife - @maximofftwinsbitch
#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon fanfic#jacaerys velaryon x you#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys x you#jacaerys strong#jacaerys strong x reader#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd imagine#jacaerys velaryon fluff#jacaerys fic#jacaerys imagine#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfic#house of the dragon fanfiction#jace velaryon x reader#jace velaryon x you#jace x reader#jacaerys velaryon x fem reader#jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader#hotd x reader#hotd x you#requests#jacaerys request#jacaerys requests#jacaerys velaryon request#prompt request
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