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yesimwriting · 4 months

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thinking about bestfriend!felix who's known for being touchy within his social circle, so when he holds your hand as you walk around campus and leaves giggly kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck after a few drinks, you think nothing of it.

especially because it comes up in conversation from time to time. everyone that hangs out with him regularly enough has at least one story: felix smoothed circles against my back until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor after a party; he's kissed the top of my head twice; i've never seen him end a hug first.

and you've seen things--at parties, while studying, while out with friends in general. so you genuinely have no reason to think there's anything strange or different about the way he treats you, and neither does anyone else.

at first.

one night, when you're still new enough to felix and his world that you feel extremely out of place at a party that he invited you to, he calls you over to where he and his friends are sitting. you walk over to them, greeting everyone politely before moving to take the available space next to felix.

he grabs your wrist before you can actually sit. you're confused, but given little time to react. felix mumbles an absentminded, "c'mere" before pulling you towards his lap. it's a little flustering, but you sit, because that's just how felix is.

okay. normal enough. conversation continues. no one thinks twice about it. farleigh thinks it's a bit of overkill, but just assumes it's a combination of alcohol and maybe an attempt at laying the groundwork to hook up with you a little later in the night.

then, someone asks about potential vacation plans over break and farleigh brings up an inside joke from the last trip he and felix went on. it's casual, but it's clear that felix is supposed to say something.

farleigh looks over in time to see felix holding one of your hands to his lips. alright. still not the most egregious display of platonic affec--felix takes his time pressing kisses to each of your knuckles.

it's not just the gesture. it's the way felix watches your reaction through his lashes and the amount of care in his focus. as if you're the only one in the room. there's a patience there that's practically devoted.

maybe farleigh had it wrong. he thought you were just one of those platonic friends that felix would cart around for a few months before getting bored. maybe it's more romantic, or at the very least sexual.

then felix's eyebrows draw together. "you're cold." you start to say that you're fine, but before you can get the words out, felix is holding both of your hands between his.

in the beat that it takes farleigh to recover from the slightly nauseating display, the rest of the group has gone quiet. they're all watching felix dote on you like you're the reason for the moon hanging in the sky. annabel whispers something about the "unsuspecting".

farleigh eventually tries again, directly stating felix's name. he finally looks up, a little confused, as if coming out of a trance. farleigh repeats his earlier comment, finally getting a reaction from felix. the group recovers because while the moment had been almost uncomfortably intimate for something so casual, this is far from the first time felix has started (casually) seeing an 'outsider'.

some time passes and you finish your first drink. when felix notices, he asks if you want another. you tell him that you don't mind getting your own, but felix is insistent. you stand so that he can get up.

a part of you wishes you could have found an excuse to go with him. the gesture, in theory, is nice, but without felix's protection, being left with his friends feels like he's thrown you to the wolves.

annabel, a little tipsy and now curious asks, "so, how long have you and felix..." she trails off with a knowing look.

you kind of get what she's implying, but it feels like too random and too unfitting of an assumption to be accurate. "oh, we've been friends since around right after syllabus week, felix ask--"

"no," she shakes her head, "i mean--" she tries again, this time asking with precise language.

your face grows a few degrees warmer. "oh." the slight laugh that follows the syllable is too genuine for it to be you playing coy. "no, it's not--we're friends."

friends. you genuinely believe it. annabel fixes you with a tight lipped smile that makes something in your stomach knot.

you decide that her question must have been prompted by you sitting on felix's lap. you've also heard enough stories about them to assume that they have an on again off again, sort of thing, and because you really don't want to make an enemy of her, you try to justify it, "that was just--you've known him way longer, he's just like that."

oh my god. he's fooled you. completely convinced you that that's normal. before annabel can really react, felix comes back. he hands you your drink and kisses your cheek before sitting down next to you. he doesn't ask you to go back to where you were sitting before, but he does keep a hand on your knee.

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some bestfriend!reader concepts ft oliver

another bestfriend! felix blurb :)

bestfriend! felix and reader basically dating

#kind of want to write more bestfriend!felix at some point #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

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missglaskin · 5 months

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Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons

AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers

Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon

Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers

You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.

Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.

Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying.

They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.

Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.

As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage.

Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.

While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.

Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.

Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.

That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.

They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.

Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.

Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.

Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.

Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.

Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side.

The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went.

A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.

Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.

A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.

Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.

Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy.

As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.

It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena.

The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council.

Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.

#asoiaf x reader #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #yandere asoiaf #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #aegon i targaryen x reader #rhaenys targaryen x reader #visenya targaryen x reader #aenys targaryen x reader #maegor targaryen x reader #yandere #game of thrones x reader #yandere game of thrones #yandere family

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thebadboyfanclub · 26 days

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Will You Teach Me? (Jacaerys x Reader)

Oh I’m on fire! Ok so I think I’m getting my groove back and I’m actually really proud of this one cause it’s been a while since I’ve written something that is so fluff and I hope you guys enjoy it too!

(Y/n) Starks name and legend were one that the starks would always bring up when it came to honor and loyalty, the first of their house to have the crown of the seven kingdoms placed on her head, she was two years older than her lord husband Jacaerys and excellent at the art of archery, “the kind she-wolf” was the name that the realm bestowed to her.

Princess (y/n) was the one that had urged Rhaenyra to protect Jacaerys claim, the greens might have been able to digest their defeat but like snakes (y/n) had guessed that they were just waiting for their turn, raising banners to come and swear to protect Jacaerys claim and promising her daughter to the Reach, her eldest son to the daughter of Baela Velaryon and her youngest son to the daughter of the lord of Arryn, ensuring that everyone else beneath them would follow.

The mutual respect and love Queen Rhaenyra shared with Lady Stark was well known in history, they were many witnesses on the morrow that (y/n) brought her second born child to present it to the queen and informed her that the couple has decided to name her Rhaenyra, with tears in her eyes the queen hugged her son and good daughter and thanked them for such a generous gift.

As Princess Rhaenyra was hastily made queen before her dearest father passed, he had commanded to let her take the throne so he could watch his firstborn rule better than he ever could, in reality, he feared what would happen if he passed, as much as he trusted Otto with certain affairs the matter of Rhaenyras realm was delicate and having a queen for the very first time had to be handled with utmost care.

The lady (y/n) had attended the coronation along with her brother Cregan, she had bowed before the new queen with a smile of admiration on her lips, Rhaenyra had seen the girl before, she was a little girl back then but she could recall how well she and Jacaerys had played in the garden, back then (y/n) was wearing a light pink dress that had gotten caught on some type of thorn and Jacaerys patiently worked around the fabric to free her.

“It is an honor to stand before you, my queen”

“You are very sweet, you have grown so much since we saw you last, you are already so beautiful”

“I am trying to catch up to our queen I suppose”

“I hope you remember my son, Prince Jacaerys”

“How could I forget?”

It was the first time that (y/n) broke eye contact and looked at the floor, her cheeks were already a tad rosy and after Jacaerys took a step towards her it grew closer to the color of a tomato. Jacaerys cleared his throat before he took the lady’s hand and placed a subtle kiss on her knuckles.

“My lady”

That was when Queen Rhaenyras's eyes met with Cregans and they both nodded in unison, any person with good vision could see what was happening here, the pair had grown into their comely selves and with brave heart, still, the jitters of the first heartbeat took them over like a storm.

“It is not often that we have the pleasure to have the guardians of the north in our court, may I suggest you stay for another morrow or two”

“I am afraid I must go back and tend to my duties, however, my sister can stay, if that is something that she wishes”

“Can I brother?”

“It is settled then, Jacaerys please escort the lady to all of our available chambers, let her have her pick”

“You are so generous my queen, I must thank you”

(Y/n) bowed again before mother and son, Jacaerys only turned his gaze to his mother and closed his eyes briefly, he mustn’t say anything else, a mother knows when her son is compelled by the eyes and the smile of a woman.

“Go now”

“Right away, my queen”

Jacaerys jested and instinctively took (y/n) 's hand to scurry away, as they walked away as fast as they could without causing trouble Cregan and Rhaenyra watched disappear to the crowd, Cregan adored his youngest sister and Rhaenyra held such undeniable love for her eldest son, the first fruit of her love with Ser Harwin.

“You promise to take care of her?”

“As she was my own, well technically she will be my good daughter, do you promise that she won’t murder my son in his sleep?”

“Unfortunately I cannot, one time she threw a rock at the back of my horse so I would be knocked off because she wanted it”

“Then she will make the perfect queen”

(Y/n) had been nervous to attend supper with the Targaryens, her betrothal with Prince Jacaerys had just been announced and so many decisions had to be made, she must be perfect so she can honor her house.

“It is such a blessed day, my grandson is to be married to the lady Stark, a wonderful match that will bond our houses for reigns to come, let us drink to love”

“You do know how the act is done right? Do not sweat I shall be there to watch it all happen I can even happily replace you if you cannot rise to the occasion”

“You can be as nasty to me as you wish, but hold your tongue in front of my betrothed”

(Y/n) was thankful for the hushed lash back of Jacaerys, Prince Aegon thought himself to be clever with such remarks ever since she stepped foot at court, his gawking made her uncomfortable and now she found herself squeamish of such behavior.

(Y/n) turned her attention to Jacaerys and mouthed a thank you to which Jacaerys responded with a smile and reached for her hand for the gentlest of touches, as the morrows passed the couple was growing their bond little by little, learning new things about one another and spending hours talking about anything they could think about.

As the supper went on smoothly, laughter and chatter filled the room, Jacaerys had left (y/n) side for only a moment so he could entertain his niece Heleana, a timid girl who seemed to keep to her own, (y/n) did not mind, on the contrary, she watched as they messed around and danced, all she could see was how endearing her betrothed prince was.

“I would also like to raise a toast”

“Aemond” Alicent pleaded

“To the health of my nephew Jacaerys, may he grow old and wise in his wedlock, and to the lady of the hour, (y/n), it is not common for such beast as a wolf to have the honor to exist next to a dragon”

“You are vile”

“Why? ‘‘Twas only a compliment, I thought starts took pride in being loyal dogs to their master”

That was enough for Jacaerys to lash out like never before, landing a punch to the eyed prince's face and Aemond responding with a shove, everything else happened in a blink of an eye and Aegon had pushed Lucerys head on the table, (y/n) felt like this was the best time to finally have a go at him and with all her might shoved the silver head drunken fool off the poor boy, when he took a step to attack her (y/n) grabbed a knife that was laying on the table and pointed it at Aegon.

“Come on you low life, let us have it then”

“Wait! Wait”

Daemon was heard in close range, causing the ruckus to stop, (y/n) remained still, she did not trust Aegon enough to give up, a man of his…ways would probably not play fair enough for her to give up her weapon or turn her back on him.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Still, (y/n) waited. Aegon eyes were fixated on her with an evil grin, (y/n) held on to appear poised and courageous but her breath was ragged and uneven, she was almost shaking from the sudden rush of emotions, it was only when queen Rhaenyra stuck her hand out with the palm up towards the princess that (y/n) glanced away from him.

“(Y/n)”

Her tone was steady and warning, yet with a touch of softness to reassure her that (y/n) would be safe if she gave away her knife. (Y/n) exhaled deeply and let the knife rest on Rhaenyras hand, at that moment it was when she heard footsteps and turned just in time to watch Jacaerys walk out of the room.

“Go on”

Rhaenyra could read the concern on the lady's face like an open book, (y/n) cared for her son and that brought her comfort, she was ready to harm a prince to protect her good brother, and loyalty ran through her veins, a trait that many lacked.

(Y/n) curtsied swiftly and then shuffled away, as she went up the stairs one after the other she thought over what she shall do, mayhaps the prince wished for some time alone, but on the other side, the comfort one gets from a pair of arms wrapped around you is the remedy to most wounds.

For a few moments, the lady paced in front of his door like she was guarding it until a young chambermaid approached with a wooden bucket.

“My lady, are you alright?”

“Yes I am fine, what is that?”

“The prince has requested more hot water for his bath”

“Oh, give it to me”

“My lady, are you sure”

“Do not fret over it, you may go”

The young girl handed the bucket over and walked away, without thinking over it she knocked on the door a few times only to be met with a man this time.

“My lady, the prince is bathing”

“I am aware, you may go as well”

“My lady-“

“What is it Alfred?”

Jacaerys questioned from inside. (Y/n) did not allow herself to think over this, she stepped into the room and was met with Jacaerys sitting in a tub, his arms spread on the side and the water was so hot that steam came out of it.

She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she stood there, bucket in hand and her lips merely moved halfway up to show some type of an extremely awkward smile.

“Leave us”

Jacaerys simply said. (Y/n) found it quite interesting that when they talked to her they questioned her motives, but for Jacaerys it only took two words for them to literally disappear. As the door closed behind silence overtook them, (y/n) walked closer and leaned down very slightly so she could tilt the bucket over and let the water run without splashing.

“Thank you”

“The water might burn your skin off”

“It helps after sword practice, it is often that my legs ache”

“May I?”

She interrupted him whilst she showed him the sponge, insinuating if she was allowed to scrub him with it. Jacaerys nodded and (y/n) sat on her knees before she dunked the sponge in the soap and let it touch the prince's skin.

Jacaerys skin glistened under the candlelight, (y/n) was holding on to any decency she had to not drool over the prince, as the muscles on his chest seemed to be carved onto him the lady guessed what the rest of his body looked like, his arms also had the appearance like they were drawn to perfection, as the sponge was the only thing that kept her from gracing his skin she let her mind run off to the idea of what it would feel like when he would pull her close.

“Thank you, for defending me”

“You are to be my lady wife, I will always be there to defend you, my nephew had it coming, I should be the one thanking you for protecting my brother”

“As much as I do not wish to see Lucerys get hurt a part of my motive was that I have been praying for a time were I can put my hands on Aegon”

Jacaerys cackled at the little remark of hers, seeing her wash over his skin so gently and how her eyes sparkled was something he did not know he needed, as the lady rose and took a cup that was there she then let her hand touch the top of his forehead before she let the water run on his long hair.

“You are far more careful than the servants”

“I shall hope so, when the time comes I wish for us to not need them for such affairs”

“Is that your way of admitting you’ve been dreaming of seeing me in such a state?”

“No, no my prince, I would”

“You are quite the sight when you get flustered do you know that”

A devilish snicker escaped Jacaerys lips while (y/n) placed her hands on her hips in defense while she pouted, Jacaerys could watch her furrowed eyebrows with pursed lips all day, like a child that was denied cake.

“Ah my eye”

“That is what you get”

(Y/n) reported in triumph after she let the soapy water run over his eyes causing the sting that everyone hates, Jacaerys shook his head in defeat in the meantime he let his head hang back and relaxed his shoulders, as he recalled her childish demeanor he caught himself thinking about having a daughter, dark long hair and piercing eyes that would pout just like her mother, oh how whipped would he be for that little girl.

“If I’m being frank I always wondered what it would be like to run a brush over those locks”

“I like to braid my hair before I sleep, my mother used to say it helped with keeping it neat, she would always make one thick braid in the middle of my head”

“Seems simple enough, will you teach me?”

“Gladly”

Instinctively (y/n) bends down and lets a kiss in the middle of the princess's head. The second she did it her eyes went as wide as they could, her torso snapped straight back and her hand went up to her mouth to hide her gaping lips.

Jacaerys was also taken aback and had followed her on the small gasp of surprise but seeing her so shocked over such a simple matter made him giggle once again, her cheeks turning rosy as he continued to laugh, seeing her in such distress over such a small act was rather amusing.

(y/n) always strived to portray herself as strong and untouchable by anything, being able to view her acting so delicate and sweet made him feel special like he was being let in on this secret world of hers, it made Jacaerys wonder what else would he be able to discover as the years would progress.

“I apologize, I should go”

“No, what is the problem? It was only a kiss, I promise I won’t tell a soul, besides, I need help rinsing, dearest”

Jacaerys had held her by the hand to not let her walk away, as he finished his sentence it was his turn to show his affection by leaving a kiss on her knuckles, the lady bit her lip as she thought over what to do, alas the little voice in her head that pushed her to stay won and (y/n) walked back to her original spot to a prince that grinned from ear to ear.

Jacaerys enjoyed being pampered, as the firstborn son his duties knocked on his doorstep when he was far too young, he never complained though, he yearned to make his mother proud, but there was no harm in indulging in (y/n) 's soft touch.

“It might not be the right time though I was hoping we could discuss something”

“Anything you want”

“I know we have not declared when we shall be wed, however, I wanted to express my concern over a certain part of it”

“Do not worry about anything, no matter what it is it shall be yours”

“It is not a thing I desire, I am afraid it is more complicated”

“Then what is it?”

“I do not wish to have a bedding ceremony”

She blurted out, her movements came to a halt as Jacaerys closed eyes opened to meet hers, (y/n) had kneeled to his eye level so it was not hard for him to stare right out her, her expression showed a hint of fear and a pang of guilt struck him right in the middle of his chest.

“I should have known”

“A public one is what I do not want, my septa has informed me about my wifely duties so I will not resist the ceremony as a whole, I am more than willing to give you children it is just the fact that-“

“You mustn’t explain yourself, I had just completely forgotten about that part since I’ve thankfully never attended to one”

“I understand it is tradition, however, I thought since your mother is the queen and if she agrees we can overlook it”

“The ceremony won’t take place, at all if that makes you happy, I will not start our wedlock by letting everyone see us like that”

(Y/n)s frown quickly turned back to a beam of pleasure, her eyes shining with hope. (Y/n) dreaded the moment ever since she found out about it, to be naked in front of numerous people and let them see her lord husband- no, no, no just the idea made her shiver.

Jacaerys had been honest when he said that he had forgotten about it he could not have been more sincere, he had the arrogance of a man since a ceremony of that nature would not fall heavy on his shoulders as much as if he had been the lady, of course, it is not as nice as a walk on a warm day but being intimate with your lady wife was something sacred.

That time he reached for her hand again, their faces inches away from one another and all one could hear was their deep and shallow breaths along with a few drops of water as Jacaerys remained completely still, (y/n) saw his other hand that extended over to neatly tuck her hair behind her ear before his fingertips casually followed along the line of her chin, his touch was hot and damp though (y/n) felt it was perfect.

For the briefest of moments (y/n) dared to imagine what their future would be like, Jacaerys with grey hair and wrinkles around his eyes bouncing their grandchildren on his lap as they drank tea in the garden, one thing that she could not deny was that amid chaos and the burden of the crown, Jacaerys was her peace, the comfortable silence amongst mindless chatter.

“When I was younger I asked my mother when I have a wife, knowing my mother had lost her first husband, she told me that when I feel like my heart will come out of my throat and when I would be willing to get on my dragon to bring the stars to her”

“I do not-”

“I will bring you the moon if that is what you long for”

“I long for love, honor, and respect”

“Promise me you will never shy away from speaking your mind to me”

“Careful, my brother would advise you to take your words back”

“I quite enjoy your blabbering, your voice is like a song of angels”

Requests are open!

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starkskeep · 1 year

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Cregan Stark x Alicent's Daughter HC

A/N: this is kinda long for a hc but I am trying to make up for not posting anything for two weeks.

so, you are the 2nd youngest of Alicent's children

younger than Aemond but older than Daeron

you are the only one who looks like Alicent so naturally, you became her favorite from the moment you were born

she did not have to be reminded of Rhaenyra every time she looked at you because you were hers plus you did not have the same tendencies as Helaena. Alicent could raise you to be the perfect noble lady

because you lacked any Targaryen features, Alicent and Otto had to stop the rumors of Rhaenyra's children being bastards. If the King could have a child without Valyrian coloring, so could his heir

your resemblance with Alicent caused Rhaenyra to resent you even more than your other siblings. looking at you reminded her of the friend that she lost to womanhood so Rhaenyra devised a plan to keep you out of her sight and not be reminded of her lost girlhood dreams nor of the betrayal Alicent subjected Rhaenyra to

on one of her rare visits to King's Landing, Rhaenyra went to her father and privately convinced him to wed you to Cregan Stark

Cregan's wife had died giving birth to his son Rickon and he now rarely left the North. Marrying you to him meant that you would be kept far away from the Red Keep, both now and after Rhaenyra took her position as Queen

If Rhaenyra let it be known to Cregan that she was the one who betrothed you to him, he may be even more loyal than the typical "there has never been a Stark who forgot an oath" because it was his father who knelt and not him

so the majority of the court traveled North to Winterfell in order to witness your marriage to the Wolf of Winterfell

Alicent was livid. How dare Rhaenyra take it upon herself to betroth you? It was Alicent's job as your mother to find the best possible match

she would have never given you to a man such as Cregan Stark. a savage who worships the old gods. Alicent had heard how he brutally took back control of Winterfell from his uncle.

you are a princess of the Seven Kingdoms. you are kind and delicate. you deserve more than to be the second wife of a man several years older than you. you deserve more than the same fate that Alicent suffered

though you would never admit it to your mother, you were happy for this match. the North is somewhere that you had never been and despite its reputation, the scenery and summer snows you saw on your journey there from the Red Keep intrigued you

upon your arrival in Winterfell, you were greeted by your future husband and several other Northern lords. your mother was not happy when she saw the blush upon your cheeks when Cregan kissed your hand in greeting. though she was supposed to be happy for you, she had wished that you would be upset with this match and not allow yourself to be corrupted by the Northerner

unfortunately for Alicent, that didn't happy. all it took was your wedding night with Cregan for you to be utterly in love

you are a young girl, and of course, you would be instantly taken with the man who had shown you love and pleasure for the first time. he had heard your hand and made sure you were comfortable with everything he did

needless to say, you and Cregan had a very active marriage from the moment you two awoke the morning after your wedding. it was not uncommon for the servants to skitter past your chambers giggling about the noises coming from behind the door

while the court was still there before their return to King's Landing, Alicent tried everything in her power to scare you away from your husband, thinking she was preventing you from being corrupted. it was not proper for you to constantly be showing up for meals arm-in-arm with your new husband. Cheeks flushed, hair out of place, and your clothes in disarray. plus she was hearing that Cregan had your things moved into his chambers. how were you going to be protected from him if you were being forced to spend every night with him (stop being delusional Alicent? your daughter would throw a fit if Cregan even suggested having separate rooms now that you have had a taste of him)

Cregan loved the glares he received from the Southern nobles. Unlike your siblings who had the looks of the man his ancestors bent the knee to, you had the look of someone he could corrupt

Cregan loved how soft you were. he would grip your hair with one hand and keep his other on your hips when you were together, no matter where you were. he wanted you to look into his eyes as he controlled your movements. he wanted you to know exactly who was making you feel this good and exactly whose children you would be carrying

you are the young and pretty bride that Cregan enjoys corrupting. maybe your mother wasn't that delusional for her worries

a few months after your father's court returned south, a raven made its way from the North. you were officially with child. nothing could separate you from Cregan now

over the years, there would be many more ravens bearing similar news. each time Alicent visited you or you came south, Cregan would give her a wicked grin as if taunting her: "Your daughter is mine now. You lost."

masterlist

#cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark imagine #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan stark hc #hotd imagine #hotd #hotd hc

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ametrictonofaudacity · 9 months

Text

Stars

Yandere! Platonic! Justice League x Isakai! Reader

Based of the Justice League Animated Series and Justice League Unlimited (loosely).

Trigger Warnings: betrayal, gaslighting, manipulation the use of telepathy to erase a memory, general yandere behaviors, and Batman’s famed paranoia and mental issues. Bittersweet ending, but not for reader lmao

When there’s an alert about a flux in dimensional energy, they are all wary, aware. Batman monitors the area obsessively, cameras and audio devices and sensors on in an attempt to ease the very real concern they all felt.

And then you practically appear, at the Daily Planet. Your clothes had been ragged, been worn, and you had been clutching your bag tightly, like at any second someone would come and take it away from you.

When Clark saw you, he had felt terrible for you, and he had come over with a kolache from the break room and an apple juice from the vending machines. He hadn’t expected you to take them.

But you do.

And when you look at him, seeing his face for the first time, Clark sees your eyes widen. Hears the way your heart picks up, sees the way your muscles loosen and relax. You’re looking at him like he had hung the stars and moon, like he was your idol, with the sort of wonder and awe reserved for Superman.

And he knew that you knew.

For a moment, he had panicked. How could you possibly have known? He had never met you, never seen you, and he knew that Bruce would have told him if he even so much suspected that Clark’s identity had been compromised.

But then you had taken the kolache and you had smiled at him, bright and trusting and warm, and Clark knew without a doubt that he could trust you with his identity. Knew that you trusted him, wholly and completely.

“Thank you.” You had smiled, and he remembers smiling gently at you. Something about you had been disarming, although maybe it had been the way you had relaxed in his presence, fully confident that if anything were to happen, he would protect you.

“It’s not a problem. Do you need anything else?”

The question “Do you need help?” had went unasked, but it had hung in the air between the two of you, and he could see the way you had sighed, nodding.

“Yeah. Would it be alright if.. we talked in private?”

Clark had nodded, guided you to his office. It was one of the most secure rooms available at the time, Bruce had set it up for him early on, and when he had closed the door, your entire body had screamed nervousness and anxiety but you had explained everything anyways.

When you finish explaining, showed him the evidence of what you could, your hands shaking and nervous, he had smiled at you, gentle and reassuring and placed a warm hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll get you home. Promise.”

——————

The reveal that you knew their identities went over strangely. Bruce had suspected, of course, and you had told him outright, not bothering to hide your knowledge from him or even attempt to. His remark that you were oddly forthcoming about that information had been met with a huff and a smile.

“You’re Batman.” You had almost laughed it out, like the idea that he wouldn’t be able to figure you out was hilarious. “You would’ve realized anyways.”

He had felt a surge of.. not quite pride. That hadn’t been the words for it. It was a strange mix of pride and caution. You had said it like you knew him. He supposes in a way you did.

When he tells you that there may be no way for you to return home, that it may be an impossibility, but that he would ensure you would be taken care of, you had smiled at him, accepting his words as truth. Accepting that he would do everything in his power to return you to your home dimension, accepting that it may simply be beyond what he could do.

A part of him wished the stories had been a bit more accurate. It would have felt like like a betrayal to you, to the trust you had placed in him and the League so eagerly, without reserve.

The more pragmatic part had been glad that the stories had painted him the way they had. A selfless defender of a broken city, a protector of children, someone to be depended on and trusted. He couldn’t see it, not really, but in your world he was fiction and fiction was always prettier than reality, always less grim.

Because if he was the person you believed him to be, you would not be staying at the Watchtower. You would be somewhere, tucked away and hidden, far away from the villains of their world, not so very close to all of them, in the line of fire.

But he cannot stand the thought of you so far from them, from the people who would protect if the secret of your origins was revealed. There would be no one to save you, if Luthor or the Joker or Ra’s Al Ghul were to discover that you had such sensitive information. You would be there one day and ripped from them the next.

He gives you a phone, and you are so very grateful you don’t think to check it for any tampering. He spends hours upon hours going through your texts, your emails, ensuring anyone you had contact with met his standards. Anyone who did not was quickly dealt with, in some way or another. He didn’t threaten them, that would be traced back to him too easily and you would not understand, not fully, but they would suddenly lose your contact or be locked out of an email. You rarely left the Watchtower anyways, and he trusted his fellow Justice League members to be able to determine if you were with someone trustworthy or not.

Even as he works to get you home, there is always the question of if he were to simple.. stop. If he were to allow you to remain here, with them. If he could keep you safe and close and protected.

He had eventually abandoned his efforts getting you home.

Not because he had felt it was impossible, but because they had been too close.

————

Things come to a head when you are laughing alongside Barry bright and bubbly and warm. You are sitting and talking and laughing, and no matter how much Barry wishes it wasn’t true, sometimes his mouth ran faster than his thoughts and he had smiled and laughed, telling you that he was glad you were happier now.

And maybe something in his tone had tipped you off. Maybe you had seen the way Batman was softer around you, the way Wonder Woman gave you fond looks. Maybe you had seen the reluctance to discuss your home dimension. Maybe Clark, the terrible liar he was, had accidentally clued you in a few times.

But your smile had slipped away and your eyes had filled with something, clouds hiding the stars Barry was used to seeing, and he had felt his heart drop.

You hadn’t accused them.

You hadn’t said anything.

You had simply stood and walked away, and he hadn’t even been mad at Bruce for the way the man had chewed him out for hours afterwards.

He tries making it up to you, distracting you. He brings you treats, small hidden things for you to nibble on because Bruce was too strict about your diet, and tells you jokes. He gets Hal to help him convince Bruce to take you to an amusement park, but you show no interest in going even though you had been so excited not a month before. He drags you out of the room as often as he can, taking you to Central City, showing you his favorite places.

Anything to make that clouded, lost expression go away. Anything to ease the guilt that bubbles in his stomach, anything to get rid of the knowledge that this would all stop being so complicated if they just sent you home.

Eventually, he stops dragging you out of your room.

He marches up to where they all meet, the viewing port in the Watchtower, and the sight of so many stars makes him almost sick.

“We have to do something.” He announces. “They’re barely eating, and I couldn’t even get them excited about Power Rangers! They love Power Rangers!”

The announcement had been met with varying agreement. According to Bruce you had barely been earrings. Diana had said that you were listless while you trained, something you had developed a passion for. Clark said that he heard you crying, sometimes, and his voice had been so pained and so hurt that Barry had winces, his chest aching.

J’onn had said that your thoughts had turned dark, and Barry sees the way Bruce’s posture shifts.

“I already know what you’re about to say. Don’t even think about it.” He had immediately argued, the words coming fast in what could be panic or anger. Barry loved Bruce, he really did, but sometimes the man was willing to go to lengths none of them would even consider.

“I haven’t even said anything.” That was all Batman, there, not Bruce, and Hal jumped to Barry’s defense.

“We all know you were thinking it, Bats. You were gonna ask J’onn to alter their memories.” Hal hadn’t sound.. disapproving of the idea, and Barry had thrown him an angry glare.

“It’s an option.”

“It’s not. For one, I doubt J’onn would even agree, and for two, it’s wrong, and you know it!” Barry had shot back, irritated on your behalf.

“And what we’ve been doing now hasn’t been?”

Bruce’s words are brutal, making Barry flinch. Making Clark cringe to, and Hal avert his eyes.

“All of us, not just me, have lied to them. Monitored them. Mislead them. We may have been doing it for their own benefit, but that doesn’t change that in the standard sense, our actions are morally reprehensible. Having J’onn alter their memories will spare them a lot of pain, and he has already agreed to do so, if there’s a majority vote in favor of it.”

“You all discussed this, didn’t you? While I was out with them.” He accused, and Bruce had nodded.

“Yes. Hal, myself, and J’onn already agreed. Clark and Diana disagree. You’re the deciding vote.”

Barry had felt the pit of his stomach drop at the thought. That was such a horrible responsibility, whether to take away your pain or leave it there because it was yours.

And then he thinks of the clouds in front of the stars in your eyes and the way you looked numb when you stares into space, and he sighs.

“It’s safe?”

“As safe as it can be. With me monitoring them, there will be no issues.” J’onn had assured, and maybe Barry had been thinking too much with his heart and not his head.

“Fine. Fine, just.. I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to see that.”

J’onn had nodded. Barry had left, not wanting to see Clark and Diana’s disappointment, not wanting to see Bruce’s relief.

————

When J’onn alters your memory, the stars in your eyes come back. You laugh with Hal and Barry, go to your lessons, go shopping with Bruce, work with Clark on the projects scattered around the apartment. You trust them, just as much as you had before, and even though you believe you can’t go home anymore, there’s an almost tangible supernova of hope around you, a determination to live in their world and grow and be better.

Too many of them decide they don’t regret it. And when J’onn takes you aside sometimes, ensuring that the false memories held, too many of them felt a surge of relief.

#yandere dc #yandere platonic dc #yandere platonic Justice league

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shanastoryteller · 1 year

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Hi, I'm a huge fan of your Gods and Monsters series but I had a question: have you already written the piece where Aphrodite and Hephaestus fall in love? Bc I could have sworn there was one about that, but I Cannot find it so now I'm wondering if that's one of the things that isn't written/posted yet. No pressure either way, I just wanted to check!

Aphrodite is named the goddess of love and beauty by Hera, the queen of the gods herself, and is given a gleaming throne of pristine ivory in the pantheon.

Aphrodite is named the goddess of love, and many take that as an invitation.

She understands quickly that Hera has not only dictated her domain, but also offered Aphrodite her protection, however oblique. Hera’s power on her tempers greedy hands and greedy eyes, making them ask for what in other circumstances they might simply take, and she resents that it’s something she should be grateful for.

The sea that bore her isn’t even an option anymore. She feels Poseidon’s gaze on her like a snail crawling across her skin, leaving oozing evidence of all the places it’s been. She thinks that her mother would help her, but she does not know.

Amphitrite made her and left her and sent her to the pantheon, full of danger that she does not understand.

She’s known the sea and the sky but worries about venturing from Mount Olympus, where distance from Hera’s influence might embolden some of her suitors.

She is a daughter of Zeus and Amphitrite. Power comes to her as easily as breathing, but she has no wish to test that power against gods with far more experience than she.

Hestia’s fire is always warm and soft and no one dares approach her while she’s in its light. Aphrodite forces herself to stay in the oppressive heat far past the point of comfort, staying closer to the flame than anyone besides the hearth goddess herself.

“So you’re who everyone is talking about.”

She startles, turning, and is first faced with a broad, tanned chest, then lifts her gaze further to look into a face with dark amber eyes and hair as long as her own. There’s blood splatter along his neck and unease curls within her stomach.

“I can’t stay,” he continues, looking her over. She appreciates that he doesn’t linger too long in certain areas and looks her in the eye after. It’s a low bar, perhaps, but many fail to clear it. “You impressed my mother, which isn’t easy.”

“Lord Ares,” she greets. Hera only has one child – well, two, but only one that ever ventures onto Olympus.

She should have guessed sooner. He looks so much like Zeus, except for Hera’s eyes clear in his face.

He waves dismissively. “None of that. We’re equals, aren’t we?”

Not really. The beloved child of the king and queen of the gods, the god of war, someone who does not even sweat in the heat of Hestia’s flame. And her.

“I suppose,” she answers. “How can I help you, Ares?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he says. “Rumor has it that you haven’t left Olympus. You may be a goddess of the pantheon on my mother’s word, but you have to cultivate worshippers just the same. They know you, but they do not what you will do.”

Neither does she.

“Can I go with you?” she asks impulsively.

It’s a stupid request. If Ares wants to overpower her, he will, and there won’t be anything she can do about it.

But he’s Hera’s son. That has to mean something.

“A battlefield isn’t a place for love,” he says, which isn’t a refusal.

“Of course it is,” she says, taken aback. “Otherwise what are they fighting for?”

Ares stares at her for a long moment. She refuses to do anything besides meet his gaze.

Finally, he says, “I can’t tell if you’re naïve or I’m cynical.”

“Love starts wars, but it ends them too,” she says. Maybe she is naïve, when she’s never even met a mortal herself, but with power over a domain comes knowledge of it too. “If not for love, why do men so desperately want peace?”

“Love means peace then?” he asks.

There is something heavy in that question, something she doesn’t understand, and it causes her to hesitate. But in the end she says, “Yes,” because it’s the only answer that can be true and she wants to be truthful to someone.

Ares holds her gaze then says, “You can come with me, if you want. It won’t be pretty.”

“Then perhaps they can use a goddess of beauty,” she says, excitement pulling her lips into a grin.

He shakes his head, but offers her his hand, and she takes it.

Under Ares’s protection, she feels as if she can finally breathe.

Aphrodite doesn’t know if Ares is aware that he is protecting her, since it’s less something he does and more something that is achieved through him existing, but she doubts the son of Hera is a dull man. That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that the queen would tolerate.

Gods and nymphs and other manner of creatures still approach her, but all it takes is for her to hurry back to Ares’s side for them to abandon their pursuit. She’s not sure if it’s his parentage, his domain, or just the striking figure he makes on the battlefield, but they don’t follow her when she goes to him.

But she is not always with him.

Athena corners her on the city path. Aphrodite meets the goddess’s grey eyed gaze squarely. “You’re causing too much trouble.”

She’d seemed nice when Aphrodite first met her in the pantheon, but after Hera gifted her her domain, that kindness hasn’t resurfaced. She doesn’t take it personally, although she does wonder at its absence.

Athena, like Aphrodite, is a daughter of Zeus that has escaped Hera’s wrath through the virtue of being motherless.

Aphrodite is not motherless, precisely, but no one can know of her connection to Amphitrite, and it’s not like her mother stuck around long after bringing her into this world anyway.

“Ares said he doesn’t mind,” she says.

“Of course he doesn’t,” she sneers, looking her up and down derisively. “Everyone is talking about you and pursing you and nothing else is getting done.”

She draws her shoulders back. “That’s not my fault.”

Athena shrugs, not willing to say it is outright but clearly comfortable with implying it.

“What do you want me to do about it?” she asks, and knows it’s a mistake as soon as it leaves her mouth.

Athena doesn’t miss a beat. “Put everyone out of their misery and get married. They’ll cool off and get back to work if you’re ineligible, even if only in name.”

She’s not a goddess of loyalty, but the implication still stings. She’s been going through all this effort to avoid either bedding or offending everyone, after all. “I can’t just marry someone.”

“Why not? Hera will probably even officiate it, considering the interest she’s taken in you,” she says.

Before Aphrodite can respond, Ares appears at her side, slipping out of air as easily as taking a step. He’s covered in viscera and for a moment she puzzles over his newly red hair before realizing it’s soaked in blood. She doesn’t even want to know how that happened.

“Hello Athena,” he says brightly. “It’s so rare to see you outside of a library, we should really catch up-”

She disappears mid eyeroll.

Ares grins. “What did you do to her?”

“Thank you,” she says first, then, “I have no idea. She’s so angry. Is she not well liked in the pantheon?”

He shrugs. “Depends what you mean by liked. She makes a lot of enemies, but she’s not that bad. She gets frustrated a lot because she thinks she’s smarter than everyone around her.”

“Is she?” Aphrodite asks.

“Usually, yeah,” he looks around then bends down to whisper in her ear, careful to angle his filthy body away from her, “Hestia says that when she sprung from Father’s head, she took all his intelligence with her. Mom says that’s giving him too much credit.”

She laughs before she can think not to, then claps her hand over her mouth, as if Zeus is standing around the corner ready to smite her for mocking him. He is the king of the gods. Maybe he is always watching.

“It’s alright,” he says warmly, “just don’t repeat it where he can hear it. Or Athena. She’d throw a fit at the implication that her intelligence is anything but her own.”

If she ever decides to invite trouble rather than avoiding it, that seems like an excellent way to do it. “Are you okay? That looks messy.”

“Battle’s won, for now,” he says casually, rolling back his shoulders and wincing at the motion. “I’ve got some time before another one calls me there. I could use a good soak. Want to meet my brother?”

“Which one?” she asks even though she already know the answer. Of all his siblings, Ares claims only one of them.

“You don’t have to play dumb when we’re alone,” he says, which is suitably stunning that when he holds out his filthy hand, she doesn’t think to clean it before taking it. She hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “Come on.”

There’s the strange rushing sensation of being pulled along rather than moving herself. They’re in someplace dark, compared to the outside, and it takes her several seconds to adjust to the low lighting.

Everything glitters.

There’s shining metal twisted into exquisite shapes and liquid gold dripping like fondue and even the walls themselves shimmer in the light of the magma, the mica flickering silver.

There is a man with deep, dark skin and narrowed amber eyes. He has broad shoulders and a tapered waist and as her gaze drops even further, she sees the golden legs supporting him below the knee, as delicate and beautiful as all strange things scattered around his workshop.

“I hope that’s not yours,” the man says.

He has a nice voice. It’s low and yet it almost echoes around them. It takes her a moment to process what he’s said, and her confusion lasts only until Ares’s lips twist into a not quite smile and he replies, “It never is,” and she realizes he’s talking about the blood and worse covering Ares.

She wonders at her place here, what to do or how to act around this man surrounded by beautiful things who doesn’t even look at her.

Ares pulls his hair from its braid and blood splatters on the floor. “I’m going for a dip. This is Aphrodite. Be nice. Aphrodite, this is my brother, Hephaestus.”

“Goddess,” Hephaestus murmurs, inclining his head.

She returns the gesture, trying to untangle the strange frown and the look in his eye. It’s not like Athena’s anger but it doesn’t exactly seem friendly either. She’s still pondering it when Ares’s words catch up with her. “Take a dip where? There’s no-”

She turns to see Ares slipping into a vat of lava, fully clothed. The blood and dirt and everything else is burned away, along with every stitch of clothing he’d been wearing. He tilts his head back into the magma to give his hair the same scouring treatment.

“Water,” she finishes faintly.

“It never gets any less disconcerting,” Hephaestus says. The strange tone is gone and when she turns back to him, he’s smiling.

He has a nice smile.

“What are you making?” she asks. “Are you the god of creation?”

She’s said the wrong thing again and she’s aware of it as soon as his amusement dims. She desperately wants to take it back, to say something different, but it’s too late. “I am the god of nothing.”

“People pray to you,” she says. “I have seen them.”

Her temples are all still being constructed but several of his already exist.

“Mortals pray to lots of things,” he answers, going back to tinkering. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yet,” she says. He survived being thrown from Olympus and being raised in the underworld and now he makes things he still hasn’t told her about. “When they pray to you, what do they pray for?”

“Same thing they pray to every god for,” he answers. She doesn’t say anything and he sighs. “It’s not exciting. Hotter ovens. Faster chariots. Sharper spears. My brother’s a better candidate for that one.”

Aphrodite turns to Ares, but finds him curled against the edge of the crevice, the lava lapping at his shoulders as he sleeps with his head tipped back.

“Heat always knocks him out. Hestia used to hold him as she sat it front of her fire.”

This time she knows it’s the wrong thing to say before she says it, but she can’t stop herself from asking, “How do you know? I thought that you didn’t come to Olympus.”

“Didn’t,” he echoes, “is a soft way to put it, when it’s can’t.”

Even nymphs sneak their way up the mountain. A god with temples, even a minor one, should be able to walk freely across Olympus. Then again, Hera insured he wouldn’t walk freely anywhere.

Or tried to. His shimmering gold calves are in defiance to that.

He clears his throat then says, “She told me. Ares badgered me into setting up a hearth in the center of the volcano, even though arguably the whole thing is a hearth, but,” he pauses. “She visits it, sometimes.”

Aphrodite is impressed. “I thought she never left her own hearth.”

“Any hearth is her hearth,” he says, shrugging.

He’s sidestepping her, but she’s brought up enough sensitive topics for now. “What are you making?”

“Nothing useful,” he says ruefully, looking around his workshop. “If I wanted to get more followers, I’d focus on making things people can use. A lot of these are godly tools – only we can use them effectively.”

“Will you show me?” she insists. “They’re beautiful.”

His lips part, his dark eyes catching hers, and there’s a breathless moment where neither of them move. Then he turns and says, “Sure, come with me,” and she follows behind him, watching the smooth gait of his handcrafted legs.

Next time she’s on Olympus, she goes to Hera to ask her advice.

Aphrodite is currently under both her and her son’s protection. This isn’t a decision it’s politically smart of her to make on her own.

She waits until Zeus has left. His absence tends to put Hera in a foul mood, considering what he’s likely to be doing out of her sight, but it’s worth that to make sure that they’re not overheard. Aphrodite doesn’t think that any advice Zeus gives will be in her self interest.

Hera’s might not be either, but so far whatever she’s doing for her own self interest has been beneficial to Aphrodite, and that’s enough for her.

She bows and offers her a bouquet of lilies that she’d picked herself, each one a bright orange reddish hue and perfectly in bloom. Hera reaches out to touch a petal, but pulls back and says, “Weave them into my hair while we speak.”

Aphrodite can’t help herself from being touched. Hera always does her own hair, not even allowing her servants to touch it. She delicately combs out Hera’s curls, giving her hair waves to match the curve of the lilies’ petals. Aphrodite tells her what Athena said to her, then waits.

“She’s right,” Hera says. “As the goddess of love and beauty, you’re inherently desirable. Until you make your own desires known, others can decide what they are, and decide that they qualify. Marriage at least sets your standards.”

Aphrodite frowns. “So you think I should marry?”

She shrugs. “Gods like to pretend that beauty is cheap and love is something bought.” Suddenly, Hera’s appointment of her domain makes a little more sense. “But if that were true, they wouldn’t be pursuing you so ardently. Marriage won’t change that. What it does is give you a tool that you can use.”

“That’s not very romantic,” she says, put out.

Hera laughs, tossing her head with the motion, and Aphrodite has to pull back to keep from crushing the flowers. “Is that what you value?”

“Yes,” she answers, but it comes out more like a question.

“Then that’s what you should marry for – romance. Apollo will likely come ahead on that scale.” She moves back in place so Aphrodite can continue. “There is a reason that as the goddess of marriage, love does not fall within my domain. Marriage is about getting what you want. Some want love, or beauty, and so that’s what they marry for. Other for money, for power, for protection. Decide what it is that you want and then marry the person who can give it to you. That’s why your marriage will be a deterrent to others. It will tell them what you value.”

Hera did not marry for love. Aphrodite doesn’t need to be a goddess of it to know that. “Do you think I should marry your son?”

Ares is the most obvious answer. She’s spent the most time with him, and he’s kind to her, and he protects her. He’s not especially romantic, but he cares for her. No one else pursuing her knows her enough to care for her.

“If he’ll give you what you want,” she says. Aphrodite finishes affixing the last lily to her hair, and she turns to face her, her amber eyes bright with an emotion Aphrodite can’t name. “Choose your spouse. We’ll hold the wedding on Olympus and I’ll marry you myself. No one will question it after that.”

“Thank you, Queen Hera,” she says.

When Hera walks away, it’s with fire weaved into her hair.

Ares is silent for a long time when Aphrodite tells him that she’s looking to marry. She thinks he’s about to offer, and the ball of dread in her stomach is both surprising and informative. She loves Ares. She does not want to marry him.

This is an inopportune time for her to realize that.

“If we were to marry, would I find peace?” he asks. “Everything is so loud sometimes.”

Her heart clenches. In this moment she hates for the first time. Zeus did this to Ares and that makes Zeus her enemy.

“When you find love, you will find peace,” she says, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I can’t be your peace. If that’s what I was, you would know by now. But when you do find that person, that loudness will fade.”

There’s a pressure around them and centered in her head, giving her a searing headache, and then it’s gone and its only Ares’s hands on her elbows that keep her upright as she staggers, suddenly exhausted.

“Your first blessing,” Ares says, smiling as she blinks up at him, dazed. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she says fuzzily.

He laughs. “You’re a goddess of the pantheon. There’s very little you can’t do. You’ll discover that in time.”

She thinks he’s trying to be comforting, but the idea that her abilities are beyond her own knowledge is terrifying. There’s a reason most gods have to earn their domains rather than be assigned them.

The problem is if not Ares, then who? It would be easier to narrow her options if she knew what she wanted, like Hera told her to do, but she doesn’t. She wants people to leave her alone. She wants to learn how to be a proper goddess. She wants to claw Ares away from Zeus’s grasp with her bare hands.

None of that is anything a husband can give her.

“Say that you’re willing to be courted and see what they offer,” Ares says. “Maybe you’ll know what you want when you see it.”

“But what if I don’t want any of it?” she asks. “Then I have to choose someone I don’t want.”

He hums, then says, “I’ll ask for your hand too, and offer more than anyone else. Then, if you don’t find someone you like, you can just pick me and we won’t marry. Mom will understand if I tell her.”

The thought of getting on Hera’s bad side is chilling, but if anyone can soothe her temper, it’s her son, so she agrees.

The news travels quickly, gods from all over climbing up to Olympus’s peak to ask for her. It’s spread to the point that she thinks some of them that are here don’t even want her, that it’s just a big show about what they’re able to offer. Which, of course, makes her choice even more difficult.

Ares, Apollo, and Hermes offer her the most, of course. They’re gods of the pantheon and have more influence and power at their disposal. But the minor gods still make a good show of it, stepping forward to off her castles and servants and land, nymphs even offering to grow a her a living manor from the forest and perfectly plump fruit every day of her life.

In one way or another, they all off her protection, luxury, and beauty. She struggles to find any of it of value.

She’s resigned herself to picking Ares just to get it all to stop when a hush falls over the crowd that’s then replaced with frantic whispering. They part like a wave retreating from shore and her breath catches in her throat when she sees who’s walking towards her.

Hephaestus is on Olympus for the first time since he’s been thrown from it.

He’s gilded gold as he passes by everyone else, his eyes on her alone, from his legs to the way the sun illuminates his amber eyes to the chiton wrapped snug around his waist with a golden belt. He could have worn a long robe to hide his legs. She likes that he didn’t.

He stops in front of her and she tries to think of something to say, but her throat is too dry.

“Goddess,” he murmurs, then pulls a single copper rose from thin air and offers it to her. “For you.”

She takes it, her fingers brushing his, and his hands are still warm like he’s just pulled them from the forge.

He came to the place where the worst thing that ever happened to him occurred. He’s given her a gift with no strings. He’s offering her only this – the skill of his hands and the bravery of his heart.

What she wants is someone who will take her as she is and grow with her, who will explain the world patiently and know her well enough to make her something beautiful.

She is the goddess of love and beauty. She cannot be bought with castles.

“Yes,” she says, holding the rose between their bodies as she pushes herself up to kiss Hephaestus in front of all of Olympus.

There are shouts of protests, people yelling in anger or betrayal, and Ares’s bright, warm laughter over it all.

Aphrodite expects Hera to be furious.

Instead the goddess says nothing of her choice, only holds the wedding as she promised. Zeus won’t even look at Hephaestus, but Hera stands in front of them and recites the vows for them to repeat back to each other as if it’s all normal, as if Hephaestus is just like any other god to her.

She has that same look in her eye that she had before while she does it, but Aphrodite barely notices it before her husband pulls her attention back to him, his promises of love and loyalty more worthy of her attention than anything going on in Hera’s mind.

She and Hephaestus walk down Olympus, hand in hand, husband and wife.

#this wasn't written as a prompt but i'm taking it as one #gods and monsters series #ares #aphrodite #hephaestus #hera

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happiest-hotch · 1 year

Text

The Valentine's Day Make Up

Summary: Aaron knows he's fucked up when he says something mean to you, by the time Valentine's Day comes, he's just hoping you'll forgive him.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (angst then fluff)

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warning: some sexual references

There are a lot of qualities that are honorable about Aaron Hotchner. They’re probably what initially attracted you to him. From how noble he is to how dedicated he is to his job, you admire it all.

Things have been different ever since you found out how much you like the darker sides of him. From the first night it happened at a random motel in north Florida to the frequent late-night meetings in one of your apartments or hotel rooms, you've become accustomed to seeing and exploring a more intimate but not loving side of him.

Because nothing is loving about the way he fucks you against doors, walls, desks, and into mattresses. The after is what confuses you. He's hot -literally as well as figuratively- and then he's cold to you, totally freezing you out. That's another new side of Aaron that you don't like. He can be kind of a dick.

But maybe it's all your fault for letting yourself slip too far in love with him. That's what you come back to every time he leaves you.

It's so hard to be around him at work and under or on top of him in your free time that it had to slip at some point.

"You know you don't have to go." You say, watching Aaron walk around your bedroom, his dress shirt on his shoulder as he jumps into his pants.

He looks at you with that stern Unit Chief look like it's back to business. "That's sort of the deal." He reminds you.

There was no deal. Not an official one. The lawyer in him knows it was a dumb thing to do, and the human in him wishes he would have laid some ground rules to avoid that longing look in your eyes.

You've had enough. You can't go on being near him with all the beating around the bush. He likes being straightforward, so your thinking is he's going to like you for the same quality.

"How am I supposed to believe there's some strict no-feelings deal in place?" You ask. Something subconscious in you makes you wrap your arm over your chest to protect yourself. "We cuddle and then you just leave. That's confusing."

"Because I'm telling you there's a deal." He replies. "I didn't sign up for you to fall in love with me." He strictly tells you. It's the professional talk that makes your heart sink in your chest, him acting like you're discussing the BAU's budget. "Pathetically."

He doesn't just drop your heart with that. He breaks your heart with one apt yet gut-wrenching adverb. "I can't help what I feel." Your voice breaks, tears clouding your vision before they start falling. "I'm sorry."

Like a machine, he doesn't give you a second look. "Bye, Y/n. I think we're finished here."

You should have known that he'd fuck you and leave, that he wasn't any different from other guys. In fact, maybe he was worse. No one ever cared about you- or pretended to care about you- like Aaron did.

You cry all that night over a guy who apparently was never yours. You know you're allowed one night of sorrow, but your plan for the BAU on Monday is to ignore him. If Aaron can toss you out like trash, you're going to double down on his apathy.

A part of you feels bad for creating such a hostile work environment, filled with unresolved tension between you and your boss, but Aaron broke your heart, and you're just reacting.

For months, you either drop your reports off when he's not in his office or walk in and out without saying a word. He doesn't question it. He barely even looks at you, and although you think it's disgust, it's because he cannot look at you without seeing how much he destroyed you that night.

You don't smile or laugh anymore, you seem unenthusiastic about your work, and he knows he caused it. Your desire was what he fed off, but it's gone. He took it from you.

New cases always give you something new to think about, getting your brain off Aaron Hotchner and your heartbreak for a few minutes.

After your case is finished, you're more than ready to go home. Aaron goes straight to his office, and you're glad for it. There was too much love about this case for you to stomach seeing him.

Morgan knocks on his door as his pen signs off the reports he filled in on the jet. It's a habit now, finishing as quickly as possible, from when you were sleeping together because you both struggled to wait much longer than the car ride home, let alone Aaron's dozens of pages of diligent writing and ticking. Back then, being done sooner either meant having sex sooner or not having to deal with cleaning up a mess in his office on the occasions he was taking too long.

"Come in." He calls, looking up. "Hey."

"Hey," Morgan replies, stepping further into the room but leaving the door open. It's usually a sign a conversation isn't going to be heavy, which is really what Aaron needs. "I thought I was the one supposed to be burning the midnight oil."

Aaron explains why he's taking on some of Strauss's work, trusting Morgan like he did with her big secret. "I'm actually looking forward to having her back."

"Right," Morgan says understandingly. "It's not the greatest way to spend Valentine's Day, now, is it?"

The connection clicks in Aaron's brain in a flash as a look of realization comes across his features, and his pen gets dropped on the pad of paper. How could he have forgotten? It's not a day he has marked in his calendar anymore, underlined in bold, so he's not the husband who forgot to get flowers for his wife for the third year in a row.

"I forgot, too," Morgan admits. "Some of the singles were gonna go find a bar and grab a drink, if you want to come along." He offers.

It's genuine, but they both know Morgan's hinting at something else, a situation everyone on the team has been speculating about for a long time. None of them really know where your relationship stands. While the longtime debate started over whether things are romantic, sexual, friendly, or professional, it's since changed topics to the shift in tension between you and what that could mean.

Aaron realizes he's the one that has to answer to the team or Morgan, who will relay it to the team. If he takes them up on the offers and goes out for drinks, he's clearly stating he's single. If he doesn't... well, the guesses will keep the rumor mill running.

Whether Morgan notices his boss's hesitation or wants to push for more information, he continues. "Unless there's someplace else you could be."

Aaron says nothing, but his brain works at a hundred miles an hour. He's thinking about you like he always is, wondering what he should do, if he should make an attempt to spend the romantic holiday together.

Thankfully, Morgan knows he needs one last push. "She's not here, Hotch. And she knew we were going out." He informs Aaron before adding his own opinion. "If that's not her telling you something, I don't know what is."

He can't lose you.

Not again.

The decisive force has him packing up his things while he gives Morgan his answer. "I think I'll pass on drinks, but thank you."

Morgan's eyebrows raise a little. He bet there still being feelings there which was why he volunteered to invite Aaron in the first place once you turned down the offer.

"Uh, what about the paperwork?" He asks, frowning at the odd actions of his boss.

"When Strauss comes back next week, I don't want her to be bored," Aaron says- jokes.

He jokes and he's smiling, and Morgan's a little unsure of what you've done to this man- his stern boss- but it's something beautiful, remarkable even.

"Have a good night, Hotch." Morgan farewells him, turning back around to leave with a smirk.

"You, too, Morgan," Aaron replies, but he's too wrapped up in getting out of the BAU to notice Morgan looking back at him.

Once he's roughly thrown his stuff together, he races to the elevator as fast as he can without attracting attention. He pretends to not notice Dave watching him.

He hasn't been nervous like this in a while, his hands shaking and heart racing. It's what made him so afraid of getting attached to you in the first place. If it's the same type of nervousness he felt joining the theatre department to talk to Haley Brooks, what stops you from ending up like her.

Since then, he forgot how much he liked having a crush, how his stomach flutters with child-like butterflies when he looks at you, and the world makes a little more sense having someone to love.

He goes to the only florist he knows is open late, paying with shaking hands and getting a judgemental look from the cashier since he clearly looks like he forgot to get someone a Valentine's Day gift until the eleventh hour.

Nerves vibrate off him when he knocks on his door, and he scrambles to work out an opening line.

Aaron doesn’t cross your mind when someone knocks on your door. You don’t hope for him anymore. It’s a waste of time that never fails to break your heart.

"Agent Hotchner." You greet him, wrapping your arm over your chest as you look him upside down. Everything in you is screaming for you to not read into him being here.

He had guessed you would still be icing him out. "Hi." He says. He feels really stupid for being there now. "It's Valentine's Day."

"February 14th, I know." You tell him sternly. "And for future reference, I have a calendar on my phone."

"Can I talk to you?" He asks. "As in not here."

You sigh, moving aside and letting him into your apartment despite the panic alarms going off. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry." He starts. Pointlessly. You really don't need to hear a worthless apology. "I shouldn't have said any of what I said."

"Well, I would call that pathetic, but I wouldn't want to hurt your feelings." You tell him, obviously referencing a specific comment of his.

He looks at his shoes like he's figuring out what to say, how to fix this, and quickly because he can feel the way you're slipping away from him. "There's nothing pathetic about how you love. That was me being a dick. I love the way you love, Y/n."

"I never said I love you." You hold firm. "That's your ego talking. If you're here to get back to where we were and just forget what happened, I will." You know how pathetic it sounds, but you'd break yourself a hundred times to get to be with him. "There just can't be kissing, cuddling, or anything romantic."

He shakes his head, stepping closer to you. "No, that's what I want." He says, surprising, confusing, and annoying you all at once. "Y/n, I want to be with you. I want to take you out on dates, kiss you whenever I like, and..." He steps closer, holding out his flowers as a peace offering... "Bring you flowers on Valentine's Day because getting to be loved- or liked, sorry- by you is the best feeling in the world."

You can tell he means it when you look deeply into his eyes. "You know I'm not fully forgiving you." You warn, earning a nod from Aaron as he tries to hide the excited smile on his face. "But there's no one I'd rather be with."

Aaron smiles. The most gorgeous, rare thing you've seen. "Will you be my valentine? And my girlfriend?"

"I've wanted you to ask that forever." You admit, taking one of his hands in yours while you hold your flowers in the other. His other hand travels to your cheek, thumb tracing over your skin. "I didn't think you would. Ask, I mean."

"I'm going to ask every year." He vows.

Before you spent too much time looking at him, his eyes dart down to your lips, and he leans in slowly to kiss you. It's different than your other lust-driven, hungry kisses. This one is full of tenderness and devotion, and you smile internally knowing you've been promised many more.

#aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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crepe-of-wrath · 3 months

Text

insane levels of wish fulfillment (soft dom Aizawa x very insecure f reader scenario)

mdni; again this is just absolute wish fulfillment and not a how to/guide for anything; Reader has major esteem issues bc Reader grew up in an environment that heavily stressed conventional feminine beauty and attitudes toward aging and it left a mark; if you personally grew up in an environment that was more open about those things and so this Reader's insecurities don't vibe with you, I'm sorry--most of my other x Readers are not like this but I'm just kind of in a place rn i guess; in case it wasn't already obvious, reader is skirting even closer than usual to "author self insert;" consider this a continuation of THIS

It's your first time together with Aizawa since you and he officially agreed to your dynamic. When you two had been discussing things to see if you would be a good match, you had stressed the need for cuddling after sex, explaining you were scarred by an encounter where your lover had basically pumped and ran, leaving you cold and alone on the mattress.

At first you were elated when Aizawa explained that, for your first time together, all you were going to do was cuddle. Without thinking, you settled into his arms, nuzzling his neck, playing with the tendrils that cascaded down from his ponytail, shivering with delight as his fingers lightly danced over you.

But then doubt set in. "Are--are you sure, Sir?" you had asked, so timidly (one day you hoped to call him Master, but that seemed like such a big and scary and heavy step, so you had both agreed on Sir for now). "I--I don't want to be, you know..selfish, I guess? I mean...shouldn't I have to do something to earn affection like cuddles?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wrapping you up tight. His arms and chest were so muscular; he was so handsome--why had he chosen lowly you when there were so many younger and prettier subs who wanted him too?! You were about to spiral into self-doubt when his baritone voice reached down into the depths, caught you and pulled you back up to the surface, where you could breathe again.

"Angel," he explained, "what we've agreed to is a mutual exchange of service and protection that is supposed to make us feel extra special. Everyone"--here he smiled and stroked your cheek--"even little angels who have been too harshly treated by this world and don't value themselves like they should, fundamentally deserves affection. You never have to earn that--"

Whatever else he had to say was drowned out by your very, very loud sobs. They came out of nowhere--eruption, tsunami, tornado, no destructive metaphor seemed to quite suffice for how they simply overcame you, leaving you completely incapable of stopping them. The tears that flowed out of your eyes carried the sediment of literal decades of pain and loneliness and sorrow caused by your internalized belief that you just weren't pretty enough, weren't worthy of being cared for, were somehow even more wretched than you had been in your supposed bloom of youth now that you had reached your expiration date, and all other sorts of nasty things that part of you had always known weren't true, but that a more insidious part of you could never shake.

Aizawa just held you in those unwavering arms of his, murmuring little hums and nothings in that voice of his for heavens knows how long before you calmed down.

"Good girl," he said. "You're such a good girl. You lie here for just a second and I'm going to go get you some water. I think you'll need it." Exhausted, you let yourself fall into the comfortable mattress and pillow. You heard him pour something from the pitcher, and then you heard the faucet. He walked in with a glass and a towel draped on his shoulder. He handed you the water and began to gently clean up your face.

You felt so warm and fuzzy inside; being cherished, even a little, was more dizzying that even your wildest dreams. Without thinking, you said, "Thank you, Master." Then, you gasped a little, but not in a bad way. It had felt...exciting to call him that.

Aizawa drew you into his lap, and you put your arms around his neck. "Angel," he said, "I would be a liar if I didn't say that hearing you call me 'Master' is"--here he sighed again and you thought you felt something twitch in his lap--"extremely alluring. But, I also know that you had said you weren't 100% comfortable with that title yet. It's been an emotional evening and on nights like this sometimes good girls who just want to make their Sirs happy will push themselves too much and then be scared later because they want to take a step back. I promised to take care of you, sweetheart, so I don't want that to happen. So, you will call me 'Sir' for the next week--that's an order--and at the end of the week we'll have another discussion to see if you're truly comfortable with 'Master.'"

"I understand, Sir. And...thank you for taking care of me."

"I wouldn't be worthy of the honor of hearing 'Master' fall from your sweet lips if I did otherwise, Angel."

All you could do was beam at him and try to hold him as tightly as you could.

"You're so pretty," he said softly. "Why don't you give me a little kiss?"

You felt your face warm up and quietly said, "Yes, Sir," before giving him a peck on the lips.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta

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seriowan · 1 year

Text

star-crossed lovers (tech x f!reader)

“I could name every star after you,” he whispered honestly, eyes latched onto your own, “But none could ever compare to your beauty.”

summary: the one where tech and his starry-eyed lover go stargazing

rating: X (18+ ONLY) — outdoor sex w/o protection (don't be irresponsible irl!), PiV, lots of fluff and cheesy love

note: I AM BACK!! this is my first fic on tumblr in a really long time and i'm so excited about it!! this is also the first installment of my valentine's day special (which I know will probably last until the day after because *college lectures*) so if you wish to be added to this taglist, let me know in the comments or in my inbox! there will be one lovey-dovey-spicy ficlet for each batcher!

masterlist ♡

“Okay, what’s that one?”

The blanket shuffled. Tech tilted his head, pressing his temple against your own as he followed your pointed finger to the stars. You smirked, certain to have caught him at a standstill, only to groan when he stated confidently, “Canerius Minorus, though it is more commonly known to the natives of this planet as Fenios.”

You sighed, palming your face. “Every time we stargaze on a new planet, you know all of their constellations. Are there any that you don’t know?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, “But I will not say which.”

You shifted onto your side, propping your head in your hand as you gave him a suspicious, narrow-eyed look. “I smell deception. Please tell me you’re not looking up the information before we land so you have the upper hand.”

He pursed his lips, slowly smiling. “Ah, then I suppose I won’t.”

You gasped, playfully shoving his shoulder. Though you tried to look betrayed, you couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes when he turned over, curling his arm around your waist to pull you back into his side. You caught the slip of a smile before he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, his cold goggles causing your skin to prickle.

Silence settled as you basked in the moonlight, enjoying the cool wind and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. You couldn’t recall the name of this planet but it became apparent that it was now one of your favorites — even at night, the winds weren’t too cold for your dress and the moon was large enough to see every crater and beautiful blue shadow. The stars formed shapes in the beautiful navy sky — constellations that looked like warriors and animals and, at least to Tech, a model-3 speeder he once saw in a catalog back on Ord Mantell.

He had no idea, but you fell in love with him all over again right then and there.

With him leaning into your side, his arm around your waist and his face pressed tenderly against your neck, you ached to freeze the moment. To capture the vulnerability that he rarely showed. Tech wasn’t always affectionate but when he decided to be, it was as physical as it was affectionate. He loved you in his own way, just as you loved him enough to follow him across the stars. Through toil and trouble, you would always be there for him, just as he would be for you.

“Tech?”

“Yes, my love.”

“What about that constellation right there?” You stretched your arm up to the sky, pointing at a cluster of flickering yellow and blue stars. “The one that looks like an astromech.”

He chuckled. “Your imagination never fails to amaze me. That is Etrion, the fabled prince of Kamut.”

“Tell me about him.”

“Well,” he hummed, raising his arm to point to another constellation. “The tale follows Etrion and his love for the warrior Lem. It is that constellation a few meters off…” Raising your hand, you dragged your fingers up his arm before placing your hand atop his own, mimicking his pointed finger. You purposely pointed in the wrong direction, giggling when he chuckled and murmured lovingly, “No, it’s right- I know that you are humored by this but I did want to tell you the story.”

“Okay, sorry,” you chuckled. With a dip of your chin, you kissed his head. “Keep going. I like when you tell me stories.”

Even in the dim white moonlight, you caught the slight flush in his cheeks and bit your lip, holding back from peppering his entire face with obsessive kisses.

Clearing his throat, he pulled at the collar of his civilian’s shirt. With a huff, he scooted up the blanket, intertwining his fingers with yours as he pressed his temple to your own once again.

“There are various adaptations of the story, but the general consensus is that Lem and Etrion secretly fell in love in the sacred palace gardens. As the years passed, Lem grew tired of their silence so he went with confidence to ask the king for his son’s hand in marriage. Because Etrion’s father would not allow his son to marry someone of low status, he sent Lem to complete an impossible task: to name every star in the night sky before he could return to the kingdom and marry the prince. Because of his devotion, Lem set off to do as he’d been told. He went to a barren planet of sand and forced himself in solitude. The first constellation that he ever named was Etrion as a tribute to his beloved.”

Keeping your hands intertwined, Tech raised your knuckles to his lips and kissed them.

“Many rotations passed before Etrion realized that he could no longer last without his lover.. Leaving behind his riches and status, Etrion fled to the sand dunes. Nothing was heard of the two for years before a scavenger came across a prince’s robe, folded and laid neatly beside a warrior’s armor and an astronomical map with the names of thousands of constellations. Most were written with the hand of a warrior while the final, most eloquently written constellation was labeled Lem.” He pointed back up to the two constellations. “There is no assurance that the two were real, nor is there any evidence that they truly disappeared, but nonetheless, Etrion and his lover remain immortalized in the stars.”

“Bound together forever,” you whispered, turning to look at Tech. He followed, facing you with a distant, loving smile on his face. “Immortalized by the stars… Would you do the same for me if you were in Lem’s place?”

Tech didn’t hesitate to nod. “Of course.”

You were definitely in love. In fact, you were more than just in love. You were infatuated with his starry brown gaze and that gentle but present smile on his lips. You adored his knowledge and his stories; his enthusiastic info dumps and that adorable red circle that’d crease around his eyes when he’d remove his goggles.

With one smooth swing, you curled your leg over him and sat up atop his waist. His hands sought the warmth of your thighs, sliding up to your hips. Slipping your fingers underneath the hem of his shirt, you slowly moved your hands up his chest, smiling when you watched his adam’s apple bob up and down with a thick swallow.

“I could name every star after you,” he whispered honestly, eyes latched onto your own, “But none could ever compare to your beauty.”

Right then and there, you melted into love like Etrion and Lem melting into the stars.

Leaning down, you pressed your lips to Tech’s, offering the gentlest kiss that you could. The sweet gesture burned brighter as he returned the kiss with stronger fervency, moving a hand up your back while the other cupped your head, holding you close.

Your tongue glided across his bottom lip, sliding into his mouth to elicit a faint little moan. Tech’s hands slid higher up your hips, lifting your dress higher… higher… until you finally realized his goal and smiled into the kiss. Tech sat up, keeping you on his lap while he took off your dress. The breeze was warm but ticklish, causing you to shiver and him to chuckle.

“Are you cold?”

“With you here? Not at all” you teased, giving him a wink when he scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. Clothed in just your undergarments, you lifted Tech’s shirt in an attempt to even the playing field. He pulled it off of his head and tossed it onto the grass, grinning when you pointedly tapped your nail against the lens of his goggles.

Tech cupped the side of your face, eyes of adoration dancing across your face. When his lips returned to your own, his kiss was slow and timed, patient and indulgent in the moment. He kissed you as if he wanted to savor every moment, sculpting hands touching your marble body. Slender fingers unclasped your bra, exposing you to the moonlight as he tossed it aside. The same touch traveled down your spine, a fingertip caressing every bumpy ridge of your back.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips, moving a hand down his chest. He reached down, guiding your fingers to the zipper of his trousers. Tech’s breath hitched when your fingers slipped behind the waistband of his pants, fingertips skimming his erection.

Someone’s eager, you amusedly thought to yourself when you noticed his slight grimace of sensitivity. You tilted your head, lips stamping kiss after kiss along his jawline, down his neck, all the way to the dip in his collarbone where you sucked just lightly enough to make him shiver.

A sudden ripping noise made you break away, eyes flicking right at the knife in Tech’s hand. He’d sneakily retrieved it from his bag, using it to tear the edges of your underwear and make way for a clean removal. Tech gave you a loose smile as he tossed it alongside your discarded underwear, arching his brows as if asking, Impressed?

You giggled, slipping his stiff cock out from underneath his grays and aligning it with your impatient heat. With a slow descent, you sheathed yourself atop his dick, eyes rolling back as the fullness of his length and girth filled you up. You didn’t stop until you were sitting flat atop his cock, watching with a drunk gaze as his eyelids flickered, lips parting for a gasp.

With your hands on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, you slowly began moving, alternating between a grind and lift. Up and down, back and forth, you moved with the ease of a calm ocean, gentle waves guided by his hands. Tech looked jaded with ecstasy before he leaned forward, dipping his head into the crook of your neck.

Sliding your hands around his shoulders, you curled your fingertips through his hair, raking your nails along his scalp while riding out the high of his touch; the stuffed fullness of his dick as it moved in and out, hitting the very spot that made you see stars. With a deep, shaky breath, you rocked your head back, breasts lifting just enough for him to dip his head and capture your nipple between his teeth. He rolled the hard nub between his lips and traced his tongue in circles.

Tech let go of your nipple with a pop, wet kisses shifting to the valley of your breast. He suckled the sensitive skin, glancing up at you through his long brown lashes. A fervent adoration of beauty sat in his gaze as he watched you, bodies moving in synchronization while chasing a shared high.

Tech’s hands returned to your hips in an effort to help you move faster. He guided you up and down, eyes flickering back and forth between your blissful expression to your bouncing breasts. Wetting his lips, he stamped kiss after kiss across your chest and up your neck, biting and pulling on your earlobe to make you exhale a giggle.

You could feel it then: that bubble just begging to pop. It built up slowly but surely, edging you closer and closer towards the edge of satisfaction. When his hand suddenly grabbed the back of your neck, pulling your head down as to press your foreheads together, you barely had the chance to moan before Tech fiercely kissed you, biting and pulling on your bottom lip out of pure need.

It took just a moment before you felt a shiver jolt up your legs. The pressure between your thighs became hot, nearly overwhelming as you ground against him, clit rubbing against his adonis with every wave of your hips. Tech’s eyes screwed shut as you scraped your nails down his back, relishing in his faint moans and whimpers.

One final grind was all it took before Tech immediately lifted you off of his cock, darting a hand between your thighs to fulfill the emptiness. His long fingers curled right where you needed it while the heel of his palm rhythmically ground against your throbbing bundle of nerves. It didn’t take long before you were gasping and trembling, clenching around his fingers. Tech fell into step right after you, white ropes of release spraying across your stomach.

He slowly eased his fingers out of your sensitive cunt before lifting them to his lips. It sent jolts of electricity buzzing through you when he carefully and nonchalantly licked his fingers clean of your release. Then, as if he wasn’t tired at all, Tech stretched an arm toward the edge of the blanket, plucking a small yellow flower right out of the ground.

Gentle hands tucked the flower behind your ear before sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you in for another slow, love-filled kiss.

“You cannot fathom how much I love you,” he murmured into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist. Pulling you close, he laid his head on your chest while you combed your nails through his hair. Briefly glancing up, you caught the constellation Etrion and followed the path of stars leading to the prince’s lover Lem. Their story made you smile and when you glanced back down at Tech, he was already looking up at you with his chin on your sternum, the stars twinkling in his eyes.

“Enough to name every star for me?”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he nodded.

“Enough to spend eternity in the stars with you.”

taglist (+ people who might be interested !) : @discarded-beskar @lucyysthings @corona-one @eloquentmoon @maulslittlemeowmeow @misogirl828 @theclonesdeservebetter @frietiemeloen @pinkiemme @torchbearerkyle @witchklng @ivela3 @kaminocasey @daddykin-skywalker @sunflowerrex @agenteliix @twistedstitcher27 @neon-junkie @tech-deck @queenquazar @nahoney22

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#tech x reader #bad batch tech #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tech bad batch

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nova--spark · 3 months

Note

Heya! ^^ Could we get a one shot of how Optimus found Bumblebee? It's be so cute.

This drabble was in fact supposed to be max, 800 words

It is now double that.

KINDRED

It has been said that since the start of life on Cybertron, since the Well of AllSparks first ignited, that there is an instinctual pull between familial units.

Known as the Tether, this pull, string, whatever have you, is what brings together sparklings and caretakers.

That when gazing upon one another, they just…know.

That this is a gift from Primus, from the 13 who gave themselves to the Well, and from the universe itself.

The Tether brings them together as a sign that ‘I am yours, as you are mine. Spark of my Spark,’ as some ancient traditions went.

But when the war began, the Well and many of its hotspots began to cool down. It was as if the planet itself was trying to protect itself, and the future sparks to come. To prevent loss of lives that had yet to be lived at all.

And just like that, one day…

They went out.

No more sparklings born of the Well.

No Forged to be born, and the few sparklings found, were guarded heavily by both factions.

They knew better than to kill any innocent souls, unaligned. But there were also the extremists, who used that to send a message.

So, patrols began, around these now dormant places.

With the hope that perhaps….there were still lives out there, to be saved.

It was a grave and solemn duty, to go on these patrols.

Not many took them, not because they did not wish to, but because few had the spark to truly handle the things they would see, when walking to the cooled hotspots, where sadly…not many living sparklings remained.

And where they would often return with, at best, another to bury, and return to Primus far too soon.

It made many a bots’ Spark ache.

It was mainly the medics and a few of the war frames which would take these patrols. Those that could save the lives of a sparkling, or offer a shield as they made their way out.

Optimus had been insistent on joining many of these patrols. No one could blame him, he was the most gentle sparked of them all, and would mourn the loss of the ones they found too late.

And yet still, despite every single patrol, no matter how saddening they could be, he still went.

Ratchet had insisted he take a break, but none could deny the Prime, when he merely shook his head, and his mask slid into place as he prepared to lead the rescue squadron once more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

None could recall what the name of the sector they were in was, long turned to rubble by the time the war had started.

It was once a bustling marketplace, or so they assumed, from the now torn apart plaza they stood in.

The hotspot had been ice cold to the touch, no sparks to be found anywhere.

Yet, though others had insisted on moving out, after distant sightings of Seekers, Optimus has chosen to continue surveying.

He sent everyone else back, save for Ratchet, who refused the order from his superior.

‘’You may require a medic, be it for yourself…or for the sparklings you may find, if Primus wills it’’ had been his explanation.

Optimus could not disagree with this statement. He had sent a message to Elita, knowing he would perhaps worry her, having not returned with the rest of the patrol.

Assuring her they were fine, he simply stated that himself and Ratchet were taking one last look before heading back–

The crashing of what sounded like one of the booths caused him to end his communication quickly, glancing at the medic with a small frown. A nod from the medic, both prepared their weapons, as they headed to the source of the sound.

It was odd, however. The Prime felt a certain pull, something leading him, nagging at him even, and it seemed Ratchet had noticed this, as he called out to Optimus, when suddenly a portion of the ruined plaza tumbled down from above onto them both.

It was harmless, thank the AllSpark, just worn canvas cloth banners that had once decorated the market, and a few scattered pieces of metal sheeting that had served as roofing long ago.

Sure, it was rather annoying, but all that came from it was just some dust they would need to clean off, and nothing more.

The question was, what had caused it? Was there someone there perhaps , an enemy or–

He could have sworn, out of the corner of his field of vision, he saw a blur of color, for a moment but-

Ah. There it was, that nagging tug once again.

Stiffening slightly, Optimus turned, looking over his shoulder.

‘’Is everything alright, Optimus?”

Yet Ratchet received no reply, as the leader of the Autobots instead walked towards a crumbling structure.

Perhaps a home, long ago at some point or another?

Confused, the medic simply followed after his commander, watching the Prime duck down to walk through the mostly collapsed doorway, and holding it even for Ratchet, but never looking back at the medic.

It was like something was calling to him, something Ratchet himself did not feel there.

Perhaps it was the Matrix, a mysterious relic of the Primes long past, that made his leader act this way.

He didn’t have time to ponder for long however, as the medic had to quickly dodge a projectile coming at them.

Or rather, would have dodged, had Optimus not caught the offending item, which was…

A rock?

A raised brow, Optimus allowed his mask to slip back, before looking in the direction of where the item had come from…

And looked down, optics wide as he felt something snap into place in that moment.

There they were. The reason for the pull.

It was the Tether.

And it had pulled him right to where , or rather who, needed him.

A sparkling, of sunshine yellow, with small bumps along his helm that resembled horns, and winglets on his back, was hidden in a corner of the ruined building, holding a makeshift slingshot, and a pile of rocks at his side.

He looked terrified of the towering Prime before him, holding up the slingshot, servos shaking as he aimed.

In an instant, Optimus knelt down, lowering as much as possible and showing his servos free of all weapons or ill intent.

Which, had seemed to do the trick, as the young bot shakily put down the makeshift weapon of his.

So small…not a Newly-Forged, but at the very least a Smithing spark…

By the AllSpark, how long had he been by himself like this? Had there been anyone caring for him at all?

‘’It is alright, young one…we mean no harm’’ he whispered, voice low and soft, so to not frighten him. Primus, did his own Spark sing, as he saw the little one’s optics blink owlishly up at him, before slowly standing up.

Offering an open servo to the sparkling, Optimus offered a kind smile.

The sunshine sparkling looked at the Prime's servos, up at him, then once again at his servos, nervously.

Tentatively, he reached out, putting his own tiny servo in that of the larger mech.

Ratchet watched all of this in awe, off to the side, and kneeling down as well, getting his medical kit out slowly and quietly as possible.

“Have you a name, young one?” inquired Optimus, and the sparkling shook his head, but tapped a marking on his forearm plating.

B-127, a Spark-Carer's designation clearly. So he must have at one point indeed been in the care of someone, or perhaps some sort of facility.

“B-127? Is that what you are called?”

A nod, he saw a small glimmer in the sparklings's eyes.

His winglets bobbed in almost excitement, and Optimus felt how his Spark sang with pure elation, as he felt it all snap into place.

He had been called here, for this young spark.

For his sparkling, one last gift from Primus.

After a brief look over by Ratchet, who noted that B-127 required some further attention yet minor and to refuel, Optimus looked to the young bot with a warmth in his gaze.

“Well…it would appear then, that you will be coming with us, if that is what you wish to–”

Optimus did not have time to finish that sentence, as B-127 quickly jumped into the arms of the Prime, with a slight hum of joy, his EM fields practically bubbling with joy that could be felt by both commander and medic.

There was no doubt in his mind then.

Though it was not the way he had hoped for him to become a caregiver, Optimus Prime would not turn down this final gift from Primus and the Well.

This little one was his.

And that is all he needed to know.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a sight to behold, truly, thought many soldiers.

The Last of the Primes, once Orion Pax, returned from what could have been another fruitless patrol for surviving sparklings.

It usually left him so solemn and quiet.

And now, here he was walking in, holding a young one who's paint was the color of golden amber, and who's beaming smile as he was held in the Prime's arms rivaled the sun itself.

And his laugh, Primus, his gleeful laugh as his newfound caretaker bounced him oh so gently in his arms.

It was a small mercy, but it brought so much peace to the worn soldiers of this war.

To see someone so innocent, and so joyful, in a time like this…

To see the start of a family.

When Elita-1 caught sight of the Prime and his- no their- newfound sparkling, she felt like she was flying, spark soaring at the welcoming sight.

Because if only for these small hours, these little wonders, they were a family.

B-127 reached out for the rose-hued femme instantly upon seeing her, squealing gleefully, and they knew that their Tether had surely been forged of platinum, the way Elita swooped in and took him from her beloved’s arms without hesitation.

For in that moment, in the war, for a few hours of what was to be centuries of hardship, they were at peace, they were whole, and there was the sound of gleeful laughter.

From Elita, listening to Ratchet’s story about this sparkling who had almost nailed him with a rock.

From Ratchet, as B-127 gasped in awe of the Energon candies handed to him as a reward for being well behaved in his check up.

From Optimus, as he saw this sunny little bot running around the base, greeting everyone, and wanting to learn who they all were.

And from B-127, who would go on to be named ‘Bumblebee’, as his caregiver scooped him up in his arms, and would bring out a squealing, joyous giggle as he hugged him close.

Fate would not be kind to this family, as time would go on.

But just for these small few hours, they would get to enjoy each other’s presence without fear.

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #transformers prime #tfp #tf prime #nova writings #tfp bumblebee #tfp ratchet #tfp optimus #transformers optimus #optimus #optimus prime #tfp optimus prime

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fatterfigure · 2 years

Text

A Fat Girl's Influence

There's something about her that draws you in.

The way she talks, the way she looks at you, her smile, her energy...

You can just tell that she's full of love and happiness.

She's also the biggest girl you've ever dated, easily over 400lbs.

You don't mind though, because being around her makes you feel good and she says the same about being around you.

It's only been 2 months but you feel like you've known each other for so much longer and it feels like you could talk to each other forever.

Life moves at a slower pace with her.

Whenever you go on walks, you have to consciously slow down to match her pace.

Whenever she gets ready it takes a little longer than most.

But you've gotten used to slowing down to match her pace.

Being with her has introduced you to a different lifestyle.

At home you're fairly active and disciplined with your diet, but with her it's mostly cuddling and snacking.

You've put on over 5lbs since seeing her, but you don't really mind.

Last time she came over she brought a bunch of homemade cookies with her.

She loves cooking and knows they're your favourite.

But as you enjoy each other's company, she barely touches them.

Instead she leaves them at your place for you to enjoy later.

You wake up the next day and grab a cookie to eat with your breakfast.

Nobody can make cookies like she does.

It's not just the delicious recipe but the fact that you can feel her love in every bite.

It's like the cookies somehow contain the feelings you have for each other and every bite fills you with her love.

You tell her all of this and it seems to inspire her to cook for you even more.

Leaving treats for you becomes a regular occurrence.

A few months go by and you've put on another 10lbs.

Lately when you cuddle or get intimate she caresses your new little belly and the other softening parts of your body.

It feels good and makes you more comfortable with the added weight on your body.

But then one day you get a call from work that upsets you.

They need you to go away for 3 weeks for a business trip.

It makes you both sad because you haven't been apart for more than 5 days since you started dating months ago, and 3 weeks seems like a long time.

Every day you're away you talk to each other over video chat, but at night when it's time to sleep you get lonely.

About a week into your business trip she says something to you before wishing you a good night.

"give that cute little belly of yours a rub for me, I miss fondling it"

So that night when you're in bed and feeling lonely, you start rubbing your belly and a feeling comes over you.

It feels like she's right there with you...

This extra weight you're carrying came from spending time with her and her gestures of affection.

She loves food, she loves making food for you, and she loves playing with the bit of fat you've gained from enjoying her food.

And that's when it suddenly dawns on you.

You're not just carrying a little extra weight...

You're carrying her with you.

The little bit of pudge you've gained came from her loving you.

You are wearing her love and it protects you from being alone.

While you're away you start to walk slow on purpose because it makes you feel like she's right by your side.

You buy her favourite snacks and eat them as you stream shows online together at night before bed.

Doing all of this makes the remainder of your trip go by quickly.

You don't feel lonely anymore.

But you do get some more bad news...

This trip isn't a one time thing and you will be going away for weeks at a time every few months.

When you get finally get back from that first trip, you go over to her place and she treats you with your favourite cookies.

You eat them all in one night.

"wow those were supposed to last you a few days, I didn't think you would eat them so quickly!" she says with surprise.

You ask her if she can make some more for you to enjoy at home.

Food and feeding is her love language so she smiles at you and says "I'd love to", but then she adds,

"you know if you get into a habit of eating a full batch of cookies in one sitting, you're gonna be as fat as me before you know it"

You smile and get close to her like you're about to kiss her, put your hands on her hips and say,

"I hope I do, because every inch of fat on my body reminds me of our love and I want to carry it with me wherever I go".

You kiss her.

*****************

It's been 3 years now.

You have no idea how much you weigh these days, but you're just as fat as her now.

And when you go away on business trips, you never feel alone because every moment reminds you of the love you share.

Every bead of sweat that forms on you from being so heavy.

Every jiggle that happens from even the slightest movements.

Every time you're hungry and eat.

Every time someone makes a comment about your size.

Every time you're out of breath.

Every time you're reminded of how physically slow you've become.

You're morbidly obese now but you couldn't be happier because you know it's a symbol of how much you love eachother.

And that's how you spend the rest of your lives together.

Fat, happy and in love.

#soft feedism #wg fiction #wg kink #wg text

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charliedawn · 1 year

Note

request for all 3 Sinclair brothers (only dating the reader obv) Where like when taking care of a decent group of victims, they notice reader isn’t anywhere to be found? They look everywhere and can’t find any signs. Turns out she is asleep on the roof of the house, chilling. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense.

This is my first time trying 'fluff' I guess ?

Enjoy !

It was a lovely night and—instead of following the rest of the brothers who had decided to spare their victims and actually help them—you climbed up one of the empty houses of the ghost town Ambrose had become. You looked up at the stars and realized it might be one of the only places in the country where the stars showed so clearly. You just wanted to have a moment away from the other survivors and thought it would be a good idea to come here without warning the Sinclair brothers—unaware of the worry you would cause them. They started searching for you frantically in every house, afraid you might have escaped. They split and decided to cover more ground in hopes of finding you.

But, it was Bo who found you first.

He looked at you from afar, frowning as he saw you smile...smile at the stars. He had never seen you smile like that. His fists clenched as he realized you were smiling for something so stupid...while you had never smiled at him for anything—certainly not like that anyway. But, he relaxed when he saw your tears. He thought you were hurt and immediately got out of his hiding place to sit down next to you.

"What the hell are ya doin' here, sweetheart ?", he asked and you seemed stunned for a second at his presence. You didn't think he would be the first one to find you, but you should have known. He was always a good tracker. A hunter in the bones. You weren't sure as to whether or not you should be talking to him first, but you answered nonetheless.

"I was...watching the stars.", you confessed and Bo frowned a little before leaning forward to look at your wet cheeks and empty expression. It seemed you weren't even seeing him. He wanted to shake you awake.

"Why in the bloody carnation would ya go and do sumthin' like that ?", Bo asked—clearly not understanding the reason behind your behavior. Had they done something wrong ?

"...I just needed time to think."

The survivors had asked if you wanted to follow them, but you weren't sure. You had hence decided to go up here and think—even catch some sleep maybe...But, sleep didn't seem to come. You loved the Sinclair brothers, but you could feel that something wasn't right. You weren't right.

"Yar seriously worryin' me, sweet thing. What's the matter ?" Your bottom lip trembled and your eyes watered once more. It wasn't right...The feelings you had for him and his brothers. They were killers, and even though they were trying to change for you, it wouldn't erase everything. You knew that. And yet...you had still managed to fall for them. Hard. It was more than a little crush. More than a fling. You were in love, and the sole notion was crushing you from the inside, because how were you supposed to love them and protect them when you weren't even a slasher ?

"I'm just...happy we've met. And I was thanking the stars we did.", you smiled weakly. It felt fake.

A half-truth.

But, he seemed to buy it.

"Aww...Sweet thing.", he kissed your forehead lovingly and somehow, his kiss burned you. "We sure glad we met ya too."

Your breath hitched and you wished the kiss didn't feel so sinful. You wished Bo was a man. You wished you weren't one of their victims. You wished your heart hadn't grown attached to the three serial killers. You weren't delusional, just in love. And it hurt.

Lester found your hiding spot next and stopped as he saw the both of you intertwined. His jaw twitched and he marched to you before getting Bo away from you.

"Hey ! Paws off, Bo !" Bo seemed annoyed at being interrupted, but only shrugged before licking his lips and smirked.

"What's wrong, little bro ? Jealous or sumthin' ?" Lester rolled his eyes before sitting down between the both of you and ignoring Bo. He looked at you instead and frowned worriedly as he saw your thoughtful face.

"...Are ya alright ?" He seemed genuinely concerned, but before you could answer—Bo did it for you.

"Of course they alright ! I ain't done anythin' !" Lester eyed Bo suspiciously before shaking his head. He would deal with Bo later...

"It would be the first time...", he mumbled and Bo's eyes widened.

"HEY ! What's that supposed to mean ?!"

Alerted by Bo's protesting, Vincent found the three of you and silently approached you while studying your expression carefully. He knew that look. It was the same he had when Ma and Pa had decided to separate him from Bo. He was afraid it might have snapped whatever connection they had—but he was sure glad when it didn't.

Vince stayed silent and sat down at the empty spot next to you while the other two started bickering. He looked up and let out a soft sigh. It was a beautiful night indeed, and he wasn't about to ruin it. Bo and Lester seemed to understand it wasn't the time to fight and eventually calmed down. Vince scooted closer to you and the other two brothers soon followed. You were shoulder to shoulder and the brothers decided to respect your wish for peace.

You stayed in perfect silence for a few minutes before you smiled to yourself and laid down on the roof—still looking up.

"I wonder if there are people up there ? Watching us like we are ?", you asked—a clumsy way to change the subject. Bo let out a small skeptical snort before shaking his head.

"Nah. If anything, they'd be laughing at us."

Lester sent him a warning glance before looking at you with a smile.

"I'm sure they are, darls'. And they' jealous. Because they don't got ya'."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before smiling—feeling safe with the three brothers surrounding you. It felt like home. But then, the feeling came rushing back—threatening to burst out of your chest.

"...I wonder if you’ll still like me if I told you what I felt for you...for you all."

You hadn't actually meant for them to hear that. It was supposed to be a question for the stars—but of course Bo would decide otherwise.

"And what exactly are ya feelin' ?", he asked with a small playful smile and you sighed. It was no secret the brothers had been fighting over you. Lester and Bo kept shouting at each other for no reason whenever in your presence. Vince had closed himself off in his work and barely showed his face anymore. Bo had decided to do the same at the garage. At the end, it felt like you were alone in the house. A mindless ghost going from door to door. It was almost like you missed the days when you were their victim, at least they were together and you knew that no matter what—they'd be a pack. But, now ? The pack seemed rather split and especially with he decision not to kill all the victims. Bo was against it. Of course. Vince was was rather sad to have lost his life models—but had stayed silent as always. And Lester...even though Lester was very talkative—he hadn't spoken up on his opinion.

At the end, you had had no choice but disappear to finally gather them all in the same place.

"I love you." None of the brothers spoke or reacted for a few seconds and you decided to share what had been tearing you apart. "And I see that it's driving you against each other that I don't want you to kill anyone. And I don't want that. And I don't want to choose either. And it's driving me insane."

Vince couldn't take it anymore and pulled you into his arms. He had been shy to actually do it for weeks and felt guilty at making you feel in such a way without noticing.

"Hey hey. Look at me. We love ya too, sweetie. We always have. And if you don't want us to kill ? Then, we'll stop. Gladly. It's okay.", Lester tried to comfort you and smiled reassuringly at you while stroking your arm lovingly.

"And who said anythin' about choosin' ?!", Bo asked with a small frown of incomprehension. "Ya think we kids or sumthin' ? We men. We take our goddamn decisions. Who ever said you had to choose for us ?! Or, that it had anythin' to do with ya ?!"

"You all became so aggressive between each other since I arrived, so I assumed...", you started and Bo tsskd.

"We brothers. We rednecks. We basically made for fightin'.", he explained and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He wasn't good with all that complicated feelings' stuff...

Fuck. He needed a damn smoke !

He let out a small sigh and cracked his neck to the side. When he reopened his eyes, both of his brothers were holding you and he then realized that you had stopped crying. You were now looking at him with a small sheepish smile and held out your hand to him. He shook his head and raised himself on his feet to leave.

"Oh hell no. Nope. Ain't gonna be all mushy and stuff !"

But he was pulled back down by Lester who gave him an annoyed look.

"Come on, Bo ! Stop bitchin' and get over here !"

Bo seemed surprised. He was usually the only one cursing, but Lester seemed determined to get him to show some love.

"Fine ! Jeez ! I swear y'all make me wanna barf with all this emotional bullshit !", he grumbled before finally indulging and wrapping his arms around the three of you.

You closed your eyes and smiled. You felt...safe.

"Would you...stay with me a little longer ?", you asked with a small shiver and waited as the brothers reluctantly released you to answer.

"Of course, sweetie. Anythin' ya want.", Lester said with a reassuring smile.

"Whatever...", Bo added and Vince nodded suit. You all looked up at the stars and weren't aware of the same wish you all made at that very moment. It wasn't much, but but you all wished to stay together forever.

You knew it would be difficult, but you were certain everything would be alright—unaware of the worried glances the brothers exchanged behind your back. Truth was, they had no clue where everything was going and preferred to lie and reassure you than confessing it.

The bloodthirst was still there, lurking in the dark.

Being slashers meant more than just wanting blood. It was need. Pure instinct. Even now, the sparks of murderous intents could be felt at the back of their heads. You didn't notice as their shadows enveloped you. One way or another, you would never leave them. They would try to change for you, but either way...It'd be at your risk, not theirs.

You didn't notice the way Vince's grip on you turned possessive, or how Bo's eyes darkened as he kissed the back of your hand. Lester saw it, but didn't say anything.

Afterall, he was a Sinclair too.

He smiled.

Goodnight, sweet rabbit...

#bo sinclair x y/n #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x y/n #house of wax #fandoms #imagine #fanfic

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averagemrfox · 2 months

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2 for the ask game for each member of team RWBY!!!!!

Alright I’m home from work and have had time to think

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

First of all this goes for every single one of them and my individual answers might overlap with this we’ll see. I love how much they’ve all grown and persevered! They’ve been through so fucking much both together as a team and separately and have come out on the other side of it. They were kids!! They made bunk beds and had food fights and were starting to figure out the types of people they wanted to be and then got thrust into Remnant’s Worst Divorce™️ and throughout all of it have only grown closer as a team (not friends family!!) and still have hope that they can make the world a better place (Keep moving forward!!!) (They all need therapy tho fr)

Ruby: she’s perfect just the way she is!! This is supposed to be about the canon things I love about these character but god do I want Ruby to see herself as an individual separate from Summer. I think she’s getting there after her talk with the blacksmith. She’s just so accepting of people without hesitation. Penny is a robot? Don’t care new best friend. Little is a talking mouse? Don’t care new best friend pt 2. I’m sure there’s other examples but she’s always so ready to just let people be who they are and I wish she’d give herself that same grace

She’s also just a giant fucking nerd. About weapons about comics about video games

Weiss: 🗣️🗣️I DONT KNOW WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE BUT LET ME TELL YOU WHO I AM. I AM THE GRANDDAUGHTER OF A HERO AND THE CHILD OF A VILLAIN. I AM A CITIZEN OF A FALLEN KINGDOM AND AN HEIR TO NOTHING. I WILL NOT BE DEFINED BY MY NAME BECAUSE I WILL BE THE ONE TO DEFINE IT. I AM WEISS SCHNEE AND I AM A HUNTRESS🗣️🗣️

Also I love that she’s canonically a fairly well known (at least in atlas) singer. Now I’m not sure she’d do that by choice based on what we saw in v4 but it’s super cool that that This Life is Mine is canon to remnant because of that. Also Jacques made her sing and she was like alright bet and then roasted him in song on stage in front of all those people and we don’t talk about that enough I think

Blake: I say that’s my baby and I’m really proud

Blake tells Sun she joined the white fang 5 years ago in v2. She was TWELVE she was a BABY!! If I had to give Blake a word the way she gives others a word it would be conviction. She never gives up on what she believes in. And she does her best to support others in doing the same, in v7 she tried to encourage ironwood and in v9 she tried to encourage Ruby poor girl got shut down both times but she tried!!

I also love how Blake is canonically a good artist and would like to see more of that. crwby show us a drawing Blake made of Yang

These:

Yang: this girl can fit so much love in her god. She goes to any and every length to protect the people she loves even if it’s to her own detriment (which someone really needs to have a conversation with her about) the Yellow Trailer tells us straight away that there’s more to her than meets the eye and yet there are people who fell into that trap anyway and criticize her character for “not being fun anymore” as if that isn’t the point!!

She’s so confident and cocky until a pretty girl Blake flirts with her I love the disaster lesbian representation.

She punched god in the tiddies!!! And she’d do it again I bet! Maybe we’ll see her punch one or both of the Brothers next I’d like that

This:

#answered #thanks Stevie!!!#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long

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hotcheetohatredwastaken · 3 months

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Febuwhump Day 5 -- Rope Burns

Tw: description of injury, kidnapping

“Why did he do that?” Wind rocked himself back and forth on the edge of the inn bed, his arms clutched to his chest so tightly that Hyrule couldn’t manage to draw them out to be treated. Tears rolled down Wind’s round cheeks, and he made no move to wipe them away. “Why did he do that? Why?” he whispered, over and over again, like the answer would come if he asked enough, “Why did he do that, Hyrule?”

“I…” I don’t know “...because he wanted to protect you, Wind,” Hyrule answered, uncomfortable with Wind’s tears. Crying was considered a waste of water in his world, and he spent most of his time alone—he didn’t know what he was meant to do with this emotional display. Was he supposed to ignore it, to spare the boy's dignity? Was he supposed to attempt to comfort him? “He…”

Hyrule wished for Sky, for Twilight, for one of the heroes that would know what to do with Wind’s upset, but they were alone in this rented room. Once the rest of the heroes were assuaged with the sight that Wind was really okay, Time had herded them away before they further overwhelmed Wind—already a sobbing, incoherent mess, at that point—and handed him over to Hyrule, telling him to call for him on Wild’s Slate if he needed help or Wind divulged something actionable. Hyrule’s heart swelled at the show of trust, even in the middle of such circumstances, and he was determined to do his best. Still, he wondered in the back of his mind if he really was the right person to handle this.

The ruckus of the boy being kidnapped from his bed by traitors of Warrior’s world, right under their noses, had awoken them in the early hours of the morning, but they hadn’t been able to stop them before they disappeared into the night. Then, he had been delivered to the inn’s doorstep before the sun had even risen, bound hand and foot with coarse rope that he’d clearly fought, given the burns decorating his wrists. Which led them to where they were now, with Hyrule trying to heal him and Wind obstinately refusing to let him touch his injuries as he cried over the whole situation.

Warrior would have known how to comfort the boy, how to soothe his tears. But Warrior wasn’t here, not anymore.

“He… he didn’t want you to see you get hurt,” Hyrule finished lamely, looking away. Ignorance it was, then. He straightened up, forcing a firmness into his voice in his best imitation of Warrior’s medic voice. “Let me see your hands, Wind. I have to heal them. Warrior wouldn’t want you to sit here bleeding all over yourself and refusing treatment because of him.”

Wind only cried harder at his words, shaking his head and sputtering out some refusal or apology, but despite it he finally allowed Hyrule to draw one of his arms away from his chest. The lacerations around his wrist weeped red, rubbed raw and flecked with dried blood. The marks disappeared easily—it felt almost too easy, like their removal discredited everything the boy had gone through in the past few hours—underneath the pink glow of Hyrule’s hands.

But their removal did not erase the past few hours. “It’ll…” it’ll be okay. Hyrule couldn’t bring himself to voice the lie. “You’ll be okay. We’ve got you.”

“But now they’re going to hurt him!” Wind protested, tears making his voice thick. “They’re—they’re gonna kill him, and it’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have gotten captured in the first place but I—” he choked over a sob “—I let my guard down, and then he just… he just gave himself up, and now they’re going to—they’re-they’re going to hurt him, Hyrule!”

“You were asleep, it wasn’t your fault that they got the drop on you,” Hyrule murmured. With Wind’s left wrist healed, he moved on to his right. “And Warrior… Warrior made his choice.” The words were difficult to force out. “He did it to save you.”

“But he went all by himself! And he just—Hyrule, you didn’t see them. Didn’t hear them.” Wind swiped awkwardly at his eyes with his arm, his movements delayed and clumsy. He’d been up all night too, no doubt, sleepless and terrified in the grasp of those traitors. “The way they were talking, and–and-and the little room they had me in h-had all these knives and —they’re-they’re gonna… gonna hurt him,” he whimpered, “real bad.”

Wind couldn’t seem to bring himself to say the words kill him again, like saying it would make it true. Hyrule knew it was true whether or not it was spoken aloud. They’d been warned, when they first arrived in Warrior’s world, to pretend not to know him if asked, to hide their identities as heroes until they reached the castle, and to never ever go alone. The rebellion that had risen against him in his war against Cia had mostly been squashed, but nevertheless, rogue actors still lurked among the general populace, waiting to strike. Warrior had warned them of their cruelty, their cunning, and he warned them above all to not let themselves be captured by them, no matter what they threatened.

But Warrior had slipped away without a word to anyone, alone, in the wee hours of the sleepless morning before the sun even rose. And Hyrule knew it wasn’t a coincidence that Wind was returned to them not even an hour later. Suddenly, tears pricked at the back of his eyes, and Hyrule wanted to cry with Wind. He swallowed the urge down.

“The rest are looking for him right now.” Hyrule spoke as confidently as he could manage. “They’ve sent notice to his Queen, everyone’s on the lookout for him. They’ll…” They’ll find him. Another empty comfort he couldn’t bring himself to say. Instead, he took Wind’s hands in his own, ducking down to look him in the eyes. “Wind, you can help us find him, but I need you to focus. What do you remember about that room they took you to? How long it took you to get there, what you could hear, anything? If—if you can handle it, that is,” Hyrule added uncertainly as Wind only sobbed harder. “It’s okay if you don’t remember anything.”

“No, no it’s okay. I—I want to help.” Wind stared down at his own lap as he gathered himself up, scrubbing away the tears staining his face. “I—I remember. Well… kind of… Once we got there… they had a bag over my head, but there was this… this ruckus in the room overhead, like…”

As he spoke, Hyrule nodded along, rubbing his thumbs over Wind’s scraped knuckles. He couldn’t imagine how scared Wind must have been, yesterday, caught in the clutches of those traitors Warrior had warned them so strongly against. He was so brave to still be willing to go and speak through it again, not hours later, all to help them find Warrior. And the others were looking for him, too, along with all of the Queen’s forces.

Hyrule just hoped it would be enough.

Once Wind had exhausted himself and was slumbering uneasily in the inn bed, Hyrule reached for his necklace on the nightstand. Its string had been torn in his fight to escape his kidnappers, left abandoned in the street outside the inn the night before, but its pendant still worked. It lit up a light blue underneath Hyrule’s touch.

“Time.” Hyrule spoke into the crystal. “Wind told me some information that might help your search.”

Visit me on ao3! HCH Febuwhump Day 5 — Rope Burns

Or come check out the whole series! I'll be doing a prompt a day for the whole month! HotCheetoHatred's Febuwhump 2024

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #cheetowrites #febuwhumpday5 #febuwhump 2024 #wind linked universe #lu wind #hyrule linked universe #hyrule lu #linked universe fanfiction #linked universe fanfic

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vimara00 · 5 months

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Hi everyone, it's Vi! ✨ Today I decided to write something with the trope "she fell first but he fell harder" because I can. Also, I wanna wish u a Merry Christmas!!! 🎅 🎄

Hope you enjoy! ❤️ (Again, sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language 🙈)

Pd: It's gonna be a part 2

All characters reservations to Horikoshi

Warnings: jealousy

Too blind to see (Kirishima x F!reader)

(Image created with AI)

Kirishima and y/n have known each other since birth as both of their mothers were friends. They dreamed of the two of them getting along and, in an ideal future, getting married and giving them grandchildren, but it was too early for the last part. They became inseparable and did everything together; They went to the same kindergarten, same high school, and even managed to enter the UA. However, because of y/n "sanation" quirk, she was at another class. But that wasn't an impediment for seeing each other every day. And when she wasn't with Kirishima and his friends, she would be helping on the nursery as part of her training. Her mentor, Recovery girl, always said that she'll take her place when she retired, so y/n needed to work extra hard if she wanted to be able to save heroes' lives during battle.

Kirishima was y/n's number one fan; she was his muse, his rock, and his 'best friend' while for her...he was way more than that. She was in love with her best friend and came with the realisation, at a very young age, that he didn't see her as a potential partner so she kept her mouth shut for all this years, scared of rejection.

However, lately, Kirishima's been more protective than normal; At first, she thought it probably had something to do with the LOV's recent attack, but certain actions made her think otherwise...

The other day, Deku came in with new injuries, and because he was a regular patient, he talked a lot with y/n while she treated his wounds. They became very good friends as she was one of the few who knew of OFA. Kirishima hadn't noticed how close they were till he came in later that day to check on Midoriya and found them siting next to eachother (shoulders touching and being VERY VERY close for his liking) reading and talking about his notes. He was standing at the door annoyed by the scene happening in front of him, and suddenly, a new sensation came with it, one he couldn't put into words, but it felt similar to fear. Of what? He was yet to find out...

He decided enough was enough and entered the room, making his presence known. Izuku might have noticed the intense look Kirishima was giving him cause he tensed and moved a little so his body wasn't touching hers at all; He knew that, even though the redhead was such a great guy, when it came to her, he sure as hell would beat someone up just because that person looked the wrong way (Midoriya has seen it many times). Y/n didn't think much of it as she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and kept doing some reports that Recovery girl has left for her. After she was done, they left so Izuku could rest, but not before she gave him a quick hug and said their goodbyes. Kirishima was rather quiet all the way to her doorm, and once they arrived, he said 'You are really close with Midoriya, ah?' 'Yes, he's a really nice guy! He comes almost every day so he's my favorite patient by now' His face turned into a frown to that and respond 'Is that so?' He hadn't stopped looking intensibly at her, and it was making the e/c girl nervous. <Why does he sound like he's jealous?> The girl was wondering when suddenly, he grabbed her forearm gently so her body was now facing him. His eyes were no longer on her but the floor, and he whispered 'I don't like you being that friendly with him. I'm supposed to be the one who receives your hugs and the one you tend their wounds of!' He paused for a few seconds and finally looked at her as he continued 'I don't like sharing your attention or you affection. I know it's selfish but lately, when I see you with others, it hurts and it annoys me...I feel kind of left out and I don't like it one bit' Someone would of assumed this 'sensations' Kirishima was having were of pure jealousy or envy because of the threaten of her finding someone else and that this might have been his confession but no. He's convinced himself, and her, that it was his mission as a 'big bro' that he needed to be sure the guy she settled for was a nice one. That night, both of them went to sleep with a huge weight of their hearts. Y/n because she realized that nothing has changed and that she'd always be his friend no matter how cute she dressed or how mature she acted, she'd never be his first option. As for him... He felt his chest tighten at the thought of her being with some other dude.

The next few days, he did everything in his power to not let Midoriya or any other of his friends near y/n, but he couldn't control everyone for too long, could he? It wasn't long enough until UA most handsome guy, had to pay a visit to the nursery and even took the chance to invite her to endeavors agency to work with them. She was very excited to tell him about what happened and that she accepted their offer, but Kirishima had to pretend that he was happy when he actually was feeling sad)?

Since then, mister cute face has spent too much time with her and did everything together; from eating lunch to going on missions alone and then having dinner at his house (Midoriya and Bakugou were there too but still) The redhead was going crazy to say the least. However, he began to wonder if these emotions were similar to the ones a brother would have for his little sister or more like a boyfriend would have for his girl. The word 'jealousy' came along with those thoughts and so he understood why he got so annoyed and anxious whenever she was with someone else or how worried he got by just the idea of her having a boyfriend or even marrying someone; marrying someone who wasn't him. He was in love with her! All this time, he actually thought he was doing the right thing by being protecting her from praying eyes but he was just keeping her to himself instead. He realized how mistaken he had been and needed to make his intentions clear for her even if she rejected him. He just needed to find the right time

....

Part 2 in a few days 😉

#mha #bnha #bnha fluff #mha fluff #mha scenarios #bnha shoto #bnha kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #kirishima fluff #jealous kirishima #kirishima x y/n #eijiro kirishima #bnha scenarios

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