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vivwritesfics · 3 months

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Jester Stole His Thorny Crown

Chapter One

He never had a choice in his life. His dreams were nothing more that that. Dreams. But then he met a lounge singer at his brother club and everything changed.

Mafia!Au

1.2K

Warnings: drugs (not taken), gun violence

Series Masterlist

This wasn't his job. It was beneath him, usually a job for his inexperienced little brother. But Arthur was at home, being looked after by their maman as he nursed a non-fatal gunshot wound.

Charles was pissed as he drove through the streets of Monaco. This was Arthur's job, not his. If he had listened to Charles and Lorenzo, and hadn't run in with guns (quite literally) blazing, they wouldn't be in this position.

The people of Monaco knew about the people who, essentially owned them. They had a royal family, but they didn't have as much Power as the Leclercs. As soon as they saw the black Ferrari SF90 Stradale, they knew to get out of the way.

On this day, the only thing stopping Charles from driving into everybody in his way was his love for his precious car. As soon as he had checked through the clubs, he was going to go to his mamans house and murder Arthur.

Charles parked his car. Well, parked is a term used loosely. He stopped the car wherever he wanted and every other driver on the roads of Monaco had to work around him. This was maybe one of the best demonstrations of power that the Leclerc family had.

When Charles walked into the first club, the twenty six year old was reminded of why he hated it so much. He had loved it when he was a fresh faced eighteen year old, receiving his first assignment from his father.

But now this was Arthurs job, appointed by Lorenzo. He had taken over as head of the family when they lost their father, just a year after Charles had received his first assignment.

The family didn't handle it well. The Leclerc's had almost started a full on war with the Gasly family of France. But Pascale, the matriarch, kept them in check.

The club was disgusting. It was the middle of the day so it was empty, aside from the club manager. The floor was covered in cups and bottles and odd sticky patches that that Charles was sure to avoid. There was the odd condom on the floor; Charles turned his nose up at that.

He checked the books, make sure the money was in order. He swapped out the cash in the safe for the drugs that the club sold. "Get this shithole cleaned up," he commanded the club manager and left.

The second club was much the same. He inspected the books and swapped the money in the safe for the drugs. This club was somehow dirtier than the first one. Several of the stall doors in the bathroom had been kicked in (Charles wasn't happy about leaving money for such things).

The third club Charles knew it be Arthurs favourite.

It wasn't a night club, more like a lounge. The lighting was low, with tables covering the floor. Comfortable, cosy booths lined the walls and the tables in the middle of the of the floor looked equally as comfortable. The art on the wall was tasteful and the air didn't stink like beer and piss.

Soft piano music greeted him and Charles realised why this was Arthurs favourite club. It felt legit.

Charles looked to the piano on the stage at the back of the club. There was a spotlight pointed towards it, illuminating the instrument and the girl playing it. As he approached, Charles watched her fingers dance across the keys. The tune was soft and melodic, not something that he recognised.

She seemed to be the only person in the club. "One second, Arthur!" She called, not looking up from her piano.

Charles stopped short. "I'm sorry?" He called and the piano music stopped. "Are you always familiar with my brother?"

Her eyes were wide as she stood and closed the lid of her grand piano. "Shit," she hissed, but Charles still heard it. "I'm so sorry, Mr Leclerc. I was expecting your brother."

Charles stepped onto the stage. His presence alone was terrifying, a far cry from Arthur, who treated the pianist like an old friend. She couldn't stop her knees from buckling as he approached. "He got shot," Charles said as he sat at the piano. "He'll be back in action soon."

He lifted the lid of the piano and pressed a key. As a boy Chalres had loved the piano. His father had encouraged him to play, but he hadn't touched a piano since Hervé dad passed. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to play more than a few notes.

"Are you the manager here?" Charles asked, again shutting the piano lid. She shook her head, eyes looked towards the bar while he continued to stare at her. "You shouldn't be in here, then."

She sucked in a breath. The gun in his waistband had become apparent the moment he sat at the piano. "Uhm, Arthur gave me a key so that I could come in and practice," she said as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Charles let out something of a controlled huff and stood from the piano. He headed past the stage, to where the office was, and instantly began searching through the desk for the books.

The pianist followed him. "You shouldn't be in here," he said and pulled out the papers he needed. She was still standing in the doorway as he checked through it. "Seriously, get out."

"I'm sorry," she said, still leaning against the door frame. "I just... is Arthur okay?"

Charles stared at her for a moment before nodding his head, but he didn't look happy. "A minor gunshot wound," he said. "He's sleeping on our mouths couch at the moment."

Letting out a relieved breath, she walked away from the back office, allowing Charles to swap the money in the safe for drugs.

When he returned to the main floor, the piano was empty. The lid was open, but the pianist wasn't there. Charles didn't check for where she was.

He sat himself at the piano and pressed three keys in a specific tune. It was all so familiar to him, flooding back to him. It had been so long, but it was natural. It was right.

The pianist, Y/N, was at the bar, getting herself a glass of water. The moment she saw Charles walk to the piano she stopped and watched.

He was hesitant at first, allowing himself to get used to the keys. But it didn't take very long for him to get comfortable. Soon enough he was playing like it was the only thing he knew today.

It wasn't perfect, it was barely good, but it was full of heart and soul. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him as he sped up slightly, getting more and more comfortable. There was nothing in the world but him and the music.

Finishing up the song Charles sucked in and rolled his shoulders. He looked around the club, looked at the empty tables, at the art on the wall and at the bar.

He narrowed his eyes as he stood up and walked over. "Were you watching me?" He demanded and she quickly shook her head, looking down at the glass of water in her hands.

"Don't," he barked and marched out of the club.

Permanent taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @minkyungseokie @formulaal @darleneslane @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris

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euovennia · 1 year

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oh oh - and if it’s not too much trouble to ask, an addition to mom/dad friend simon, maybe another hc where reader takes a bullet for him and he’s like "why would you do that" and she’s all like "because your my friend" and he’s like "🥹" rubbing my hands together deviously

so for anyone new, this post is a continuation of this request, but it can be read as a stand alone if you so choose! i will say simon may be a bit ooc but you've already been besties forever so it's fine. thank you to the anon who requested this, i hope i did it justice. now please, enjoy <3

so by this point it's become well established that you and simon are pretty much a package deal

one can never be seen without the other trailing too far behind

unless of course one of you (usually simon) is actually trying to do their job

but even then you both have a tendency to hover

well

the hovering is usually done by simon who will take it upon himself to sit somewhere in the same room as you while you work

but you're more direct in your approach

which basically means you have no hesitation in pulling up a chair and talking his ear off

depending on his mood/what he's working on he'll either slide something your way in hopes of distracting you into silence or he'll take part in your mindless chatter

it's usually the latter much to the annoyance of price whose come to notice that simon tends to submit his mission reports just a tad later than normal when you're around

but he doesn't dare say anything because he's just happy simon finally has someone to keep him company

even if it does mean him missing a deadline here and there

now with the amount of time you two spend around one another, there was the small concern that you two may become a bit more reckless on missions together

but honestly?

that couldn't have been farther from the truth

as much as you like messing around with simon, you're very aware that your line of work requires your full attention

so, despite how hard it can be at times, you limit your jokes and general shenanigans to the bare minimum so you can get the job done

and obviously it goes without saying that he does the same by shedding the name simon riley and becoming the infamous ghost

it was a bit startling for the team to witness this change at first

they honestly thought you two were mad at each other

but after the mission was said and done, you and simon started hanging out again and it just kinda clicked

simon probably uses you as an example to soap to be honest

anyway, point is

you both know how to keep your friendship out of the way in the field, you've practically mastered the art of it

but the moment you see him get into a knife fight with an enemy soldier on a mission, you can't help but worry

and you can't help the way your worry morphs into panic as you see a tiny red dot plant itself on his body as he finally drives his knife into the neck of the rival soldier

and you certainly can't help the way your feet seemingly begin to move on their own as you sprint toward ghost and practically ram him into the ground

and you most definitely can't help the yelp of pain that drops from your lips as you feel a searing hot pain rip through your lower abdomen

so much for those bullet proof vests

simon looks up from his position on the ground, knife in hand and ready to stab it into the poor soul dumb enough to tackle him like this

but then he sees you

he sees your face, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape

his eyes trail down your body and he swears his world nearly crashes as he stares at the dark red spot currently staining your shirt

he can only fear the faint sound of yet another gun going off before you're tumbling onto the ground

he snaps out of his daze to catch you and he can't help but feel horrified upon seeing another bullet wound lodged into your thigh

he can hold in his cry of agony and heartbreak as your breathing soon becomes labored and your eyes fill with tears

he gives your struggling form a once over before sucking in a sharp breath and dragging you to a nearby hill that was littered with enough rocks and boulders to offer shelter from the incoming storm of bullets

he settles your head onto his lap as he harshly barks out words you can't even begin to understand through the comms

you can barely register the way his hand gives your face a small smack

your eyes connect as he pulls a roll of gauze from his tactical backpack, "come on, kid. don't do this to me. just a bit longer."

even with the searing hot pain that was overruling all your other senses, you can't help but smile

you grab onto his inked forearm and he stops as he looks back at you, eyes wild and frantic

"hey simon?"

"what?"

"thanks for putting up with me."

your eyes begin to flutter open, a small hiss of discomfort escaping your mouth as you cringe at the bright overhead lights

you make a move to bring a hand up in front of your eyes to shield yourself form the harsh fluorescents, but stop your movements when the lights suddenly begin to dim

confused, you begin to look around the room only to see simon standing by a wooden door with his hand on what you assumed to be a light dimmer

he stares at you through the eye holes of his balaclava, "better?"

you offer him a nod paired with a small smile and open your mouth to offer your thanks but stop when he puts the lights back up to their full brightness causing you to let out a groan

you open your mouth once more to vocalize your complaints and throw a half-hearted insult his way, but stop when you hear the heavy footfall of simon's boots making their way over to your hospital bed

he comes to a stop by your bedside as he glares down at you, a swirl of emotions darkening his already hardened gaze

after giving your eyes a few moments to adjust he speaks, "you're the stupidest person i've ever fuckin' met."

your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, "excuse me?"

he leans down and stops just a few inches short of your face, "i said you're stupid and i'd yank you off the field myself if i could."

you can feel your heart drop at his harsh tone but decide to soldier on, "you're in a good mood today, aren't ya?"

his eyes narrow and a growl of anger and frustration escape the lips hidden by his mask, "don't give me any of that shit, you know what you did."

you sigh, "i'm in a hospital bed, simon. i don't think i could've done any–"

you don't even get to finish your sentence before he's interrupting you, "why'd you do it?"

you stare up at him, confusion and annoyance evident on your face

"simon, what are y–"

he scoffs, "the fucking bullet! you took the fucking bullet! why'd you do that? what made you think that was a bloody good idea? do you have any fucking clue what you put this team – what you put me through?"

right

your expression melts into one of sheepishness as you attempt to get in a word, but stop when simon decides to continue

"i had the situation handled, i could've taken care of myself! i'm smart, i'm capable, and i have years more experience than you do so tell me, i can handle myself! i don't need you steppin' in and throwin' yourself in front of bullets! you coulda fuckin' died!"

"simon–"

he points a finger in your face as he continues on with his rant, "no, you don't get to call me that, not anymore. from here on out, you either address me as ghost or lieutenant, nothing else until you can learn how to handle yourself on the field. we need soldiers, not daredevils. do you understand?"

you exhale, "no."

before he can continue with his angry tangent you sit up with a painful grimace and grab the pillow the pillow your head once rested upon and fling it at him

he narrowly dodges it and stares at you with a mix of rage and pure disbelief with a glare that practically screamed, "what the fuck."

hit block limit again. i'm afraid this may become a habit. anyway.

taking his silence as your cue to speak, you do just that, "okay fine, you're right. i probably shouldn't have tackled you down like that and taken a bullet for you, i probably should've remembered that you're a fully capable man with more experience than me, and i probably should've remembered that the field is no place to be playing favorites. you're right, i should've kept that all in mind but–"

you let out a small sigh as you avert your eyes to the think blanket draped over your body, "when i saw that gun pointed right at you i...i couldn't bring myself to care about any of that. at that moment, all i saw was you in danger and i couldn't have that so i did what i did. you can reprimand and punish me all you want for doing it, but i don't care. i stand by my actions."

simon eyes you for a few moments longer before grabbing onto a chair nearby and settling it beside your bed

you watch as he sits down with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving yours

"why?"

your brows knit together in confusion

"why what?"

"why'd you take a bullet–no, why'd you take two bullets for me? you and everyone else on this team know i could've handled it, so why?"

you frown, "because you're my friend, simon. why else?"

once those words leave your mouth, you're greeted with his blank ghost stare

again, he's just 👁️👁️

and you feel a small wave of concern wash over you

this is the same man who was torturing you with the bright fluorescent lights and lecturing you to hell just a few minutes ago and now he's just staring at you

still and silent as ever

you almost ask if he's okay, but stop yourself when he brings his large hand up to the edge of your hospital bed and begins inching it closer to yours before eventually resting it over yours

it's quiet for a few moments longer before he speaks in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard from him, "you took that bullet cause i'm your friend?"

you can't help but soften your own voice as you respond, "my best friend."

upon hearing you say that, simon can just feel the small well of tears that begin building up in his eyes

and as much as he wants to fight them off, he just can't

you, already being able to sense the internal war he's got going on inside his head, simply turn your hand so you can grip onto his and give it a firm squeeze

and by god he hates you for that

because now he can't help but disconnect your hands in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you

you swear you can feel the small rumble of his shoulders as he tries and fails to conceal his quiet sniffles but you decide to overlook it because oh my god simon 'ghost' riley is crying in your arms and it's all your fault

so you decide it's best to just hold onto him as tight as you possibly can

he notices this and he just melts

what did he do to deserve you?

what overpowering force of life felt that he was good enough for the sunshine that is you?

who gave him the honor of being blessed with you?

he's not sure but quite frankly, he doesn't really care

not when you're holding onto him like your life depends on it

not when you pull back from the hug, look into his eyes, and offer him the brightest smile he's ever seen

and certainly not when you grab onto his hands and speak in that sweet honey voice of yours, "i'll always take a bullet for you. i can't lose you, simon."

jesus christ you're going to make his heart burst

he sucks in a small breath and squeezes onto your hands, "i can't lose you either, kid."

you only smile, "you won't, i'm always gonna be here with you."

words that once would've annoyed him to no end now set his cold heart alight

"you fuckin' better."

your smile widens and you lean forward to capture him in yet another hug

with his arms wrapped tightly around your body and you pressed up against him, he can't help but smile

it's definitely nice to have a friend

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hausofneptune · 4 months

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songs that give the same energy as these aspects/placements

[astro notes no. 008]

hey y'all! i'm sure this has probably been done before, but i thought it'd be fun to do a post where i can talk about music and astrology bc i'm very much so a nerd when it comes to both of those topics :) (i'm dipping my toes into synastry/composite placements in this post, and i'm still learning about those subjects so any of these notes sound like surface-level baby shit, that's why, i apologize in advance lmao)

also, if it don't apply let it fly, we all have different charts and so therefore aspects and placements will manifest differently for all of us.

disclaimers | masterlist | ask

༊*·˚ ˗ venus in the 12H | scorpio / cancer venus: unknown / nth — hozier

you called me angel for the first time my heart leapt from me you smile now, i can see its pieces still stuck in your teeth and what's left of it, i listen to it tick every tedious beat going unknown as any angel to me do you know, i could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, i still carry for you? that i'd walk so far just to take the injury of finally knowing you?

i feel like it's worth mentioning that hozier has venus in aquarius in his 12H, which makes so much sense when you listen to his music. these placements are, i feel, indicative of loving extremely hard, even to your own detriment. they tend to crave deep, nurturing, spiritual connections in love. and although they might have the capacity to understand people on a deeper level, rarely is that level of understanding reciprocated to them in love (especially the venus 12th housers), which can result in this feeling of being "unknown". y'all's suffering usually results in amazing art though, which can be an upside depending on how you look at it lmao

༊*·˚ ˗ moon in the 8H | moon square / opposite pluto or saturn: good days — SZA

said i'm not tryna be a nuisance, it's just urgent tryna make sense of loose change got me a war in my mind gotta let go of weight, can't keep what's holding me choose to watch while the world break up and fall on me all the while, i'll await my armored fate with a smile still wanna try, still believe in good days

as an 8H moon native i literally cannot listen to this song without crying lmfao. i feel like there’s so much inner emotional turmoil that people with these placements experience, and these experiences can definitely harden somebody into the type of person who’s emotionally avoidant and seeks to escape through their work or self-destructive habits. or, they become someone who, despite of what they’ve been through, utilize their understanding of the “darker” side of life to help others, and at least attempt to seek out things that bring them joy recognize that you don't have to view life through the lens of the fucked up shit you've been through.

༊*·˚ ˗ venus in the 9H / taurus ruling over the 9H: bliss abroad — masego ft. sheléa

i'm a boss, i know you like that spend it all, and make it all back see the sea view right from the cockpit just a preview to one of god's gifts i love the way we have no limitations, every night a celebration you take me there you exceed my expectation, beyond imagination

this is such a cute placement to have, both in natal and synastry. in the natal chart, it can indicate being someone who finds pleasure in traveling and learning about cultures that are vastly different than yours, and even finding spiritual fulfillment through doing so. it also shows being someone who enjoys traveling and exploring uncharted territory with their partner (or finding love in a different country), as well as feeling the most fulfilled in a relationship with someone who you feel "enlightens" you and brings newfound wisdom to your day to day life. these natives could also end up attaining wealth through these endeavors as well.

༊*·˚ ˗ sun trine or sextile black moon lilith | mars conjunct uranus | venus aspecting mars / pluto (synastry): stroke — banks

it’s always in my head everything is always about you tell me you’re a book that i misread you just wanna tell me what to do you want me, you want me want me to stroke your ego beg for it, die for it i got the touch placebo

i like to refer to aspects and placements like these as the "you not finna tell me what the fuck to do" indicators. with the natal aspects, these are typically the type of people who like to push against the boundaries just to see how far they can go, and enjoy ruffling other peoples' feathers for fun. they're also visionaries, and tend to prioritize their individuality above all else and enjoy encouraging others to feel empowered as well. on the other hand, the synastry aspects can indicate a strong level of physical attraction and sexual compatibility, when they're afflicted it can very much so lead to power struggles, with mars/pluto being the one attempting to assert some form of dominance or control over venus. how that ends up playing out depends on the context of the individual natal charts of those involved, personally i'd rather eat a denim jacket than let somebody (especially a man) tell me what to do, but i digress.

༊*·˚ ˗ moon / mercury in 3H (synastry) | sun in pisces / taurus (composite): are you even real? — james blake

all i can do is trust in her late nights, i can see the lust in her acid rain is a first for her skies open up, share a cup with her cracking seals, guilty no appeal trip down the hill, strawberry fields are you even real? she said, "tell me how you feel" are you even real?

3H synastry is so sweet and so underrated, probably because it's not a house that people typically look at for an indication of "romance", but i feel like communication is an integral part of relationships that (clearly) nobody really takes into account. moon and mercury in the 3H can be indicative of giving/receiving words of affirmation with someone, as well as an ease in not only expressing your emotions to someone but having a very strong intellectual connection to them. it could also be indicative of having a strong bond with their siblings or immediate family as well. i also mentioned sun in pisces and taurus in the composite chart because the production of this song is so ethereal, and the lyrics are very domestic in a sense? i feel like it's representative of the spiritual connection and compassion that pisces brings, alongside the pleasure and security found in building a home with the person you love.

༊*·˚ ˗ pisces moon / mercury: count me out — kendrick lamar

i care too much, wanna share too much in my head too much, i shut down too i ain't there too much, i'm a complex soul they layered me up, then broke me down and moralities dust, i lack in trust

pisces moons are truly god's strongest soldiers lmfao. i spoke on this in a previous post and i'll reiterate it again because it's so real, but pisces is the only water sign without "armor", and therefore the water sign that tends to get hurt the most. and i'm speaking in terms of the archetype and not necessarily every person with prominent pisces placements when i say this (pls do not come up under this post talking about a pisces that hurt your feelings, we do not care), but pisces are very sensitive and kind-hearted by nature, and with the moon in pisces that can very easily manifest as becoming "captain save a hoe" and trying to help and fix everyone around you, even to your own detriment. in regard to having mercury in pisces, i feel like the upside is having a very romanticized way of speech and a general "poetic" ideological approach to life, and the downside is getting lost in your thoughts, as well as being misrepresented or not clearly understood in communication/connection to others, and therefore "shutting down" and opting not to speak at all.

༊*·˚ ˗ sun / venus trine or sextile neptune (natal or synastry): two weeks — fka twigs

i'll put you first, just close your eyes and dream about it higher than a motherfucker, dreaming of you as my lover i'll quench your thirst, just chase the high and stop your doubting flying like a streamer, thinking of new ways to do each other

i'm not gonna hold you, i feel like this is the perfect example of a song fully encapsulating what an aspect feels like. i feel like these aspects can make someone very ethereal, they may have a tendency to come off as impersonal or "out of reach" to those around them, and are typically very intuitive and spiritually-inclined. in synastry, this could make someone view their partner through a dream-like lens. aside from neptune's malefic characteristics (which typically show up more with conjunctions or challenging aspects) it's energy paired with the sun and venus can make a relationship feel like a fairy-tale in a sense. they may have a telepathic connection with one another, visit each other or communicate through the astral realm, and their intimacy can feel like a very spiritual experience for both parties.

as always, if you have any of the aspects or placements mentioned let me know how it manifests in your own life! and if you have any songs that you feel like are representative of any placements feel free to drop them below, i'm always looking for new music to listen to!

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thehighladywrites · 6 months

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The Airhead chronicles

…and the run-in.

-> Pairing: Cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> Summary: suggestive themes, cassian getting bricked up bc reader is super cute, reader being an absolute sweetheart, daddy cassian radiating big dick energy. cassian runs into you while he runs errands, peaking his curiosity. he’s determined to find out more about his mysterious mate. what were you doing in velaris and how the hell did she have a house in the most fancy and exclusive neighborhood? cassian himself had been on the waiting list for over 60 years… he asks her out on a date to find out more.

-> Author’s note: This one is my favorite so far, I’m trying to build a mysterious air around reader bc she might not be bright but best believe she’s a baddie. Also if you see any typos, no you didn’t

Part one Part three

Cassian was going insane.

He only knew your name and where you lived and it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know everything about you. What made you smile, cry, laugh, pissed off. What kind of food you like, your favorite color - He wanted to know you inside and out.

Your little kiss had left him with a thundering heart and a hard cock. It was a wonder that he didn’t break down your door and storm in just to be in your presence for a few seconds.

He almost felt embarrassed as he stood behind a building, watching you enter the coffee shop across Feyre’s art studio. Cassian wasn’t stalking you or anything, he genuinely happened to spot you strolling through the streets while he was running errands. Panic took over and his first insight was to hide.

The streets of Velaris echoed with the enchanting click of your 5-inch, black platform heels, announcing your arrival. You had such a light around you, smiling at strangers and kids. Your outfit, showcasing a black, sexy yet sophisticated skirt paired with a white top, black sheer tights, and a maroon bag thrown over your shoulder, exuded a captivating sense of style. The only reminiscent element of your previous style Cassian saw that night, was the attention-grabbing almost stripper heels.

Your unconventional fashion choice, though beautiful, set you apart from the usual attire of Night Court women, revealing that you were not a native of this place. What brought you to Velaris? Cassian pondered if your stylish yet professional outfit hinted at a specific job or occupation.

Decided that he wanted some answers, he made his way to the coffee shop. His ears picked up on your sweet voice as it was heard throughout the shop.

“Hi, how are you? Can i please have a caramel latte with extra caramel and whipped cream on top? Okay, thank you!!” You had your hands behind your arms as you hummed a little song. The ring of the door bell caught your attention as you whipped your head to the door, your freshly styled hair swaying. Your heart started beating faster as you saw who walked through the door. Letting out a shriek, you threw yourself in Cassians arms as you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle. “ Hi Cassie!! Whatcha doin here?” His hands tightened around your waist as he smelled your intoxicating perfume when you pressed your soft body against his hard one.

“ Hi there, darling. I was just walking around town and decided to stop for some coffee. What are you doing?” He flipped the question, praying that you wouldn’t sense his lie. Curiously, Cassian also wondered about your destination as you appeared business-ready and on the move. The barista called your name and you skipped over to get your sweet drink. It was honestly a wonder your teeth hadn’t rotted away, you loved eating sweet things. “ I’m just getting a little something to drink. Um, actually, can you hold my drink, I just need to get my money out.” Your painted lips had a cute pout as your brows furrowed in concentration, pulling out your money. “Nonsense, I’ll pay for your drink, since I owe you one, remember.” You looked up at him with big eyes. “ Thanks Cassie, you’re such a nice guy!” He merely laughed, “Paying for a lady’s drink is a standard courtesy, sweetheart.” You smiled and sipped on your drink, blushing furiously.

Oh, he looked so good today. Perhaps because it was night, you didn’t see his face clearly, because he was looking a million times hotter than he did thst night. So ruggedly handsome and manly, ugh you were totally turning into mush…

After paying for your drinks and ordering his own, he opened the door for you and offered you his elbow but you opted to grip his bicep instead. Your stomach flipped as you felt the hard muscle ripple with each step. Wow, he must work out like everyday to look like this. “ Wanna taste my drink, Cassie?” you offered as you pushed the hot drink in his face.

He didn’t have it in him to tell you that he absolutely didn’t drink sweet drinks, in fact he hated them. It was too much sugar and he always stuck to his strict routine and food habits, and you had ordered not only a caramel latte, it was also one with extra caramel and whipped cream on top. Basically death in a cup, a stark contrast from his black coffee.

But Cassian took one look at you and folded. Your eyes had hope in them and he’d rather have his wings shredded than kill that shine. “ Sure, I’ll have some, pretty. “

It was an effort not to make a face as the sickly sweet drink hit his tongue but you seemed so happy and he’d drink the whole thing with no complaints if you’d ask him. Your giggles brought him back from his thoughts as he looked at you curiously.

“Whatcha laughing at? Something on my face?”

You flashed him an adorable smile and said,

” You got some of my lipgloss on your lips, just give me ooooone second. There we go! You looked so silly!” He froze when you took your thumb and wiped away the gloss on his soft lips. His legs felt like jelly when you just grabbed his bicep and dragged him along, telling him about your plans for the day.

Man, you were going to be the death of him.

“You have everything? Or is there something else you need, sweetheart?” Gods, you wanted to plant a fat kiss right ln his lips. Would that be wrong? No, of course not!! Hmm… Maybe at the end of the shopping spree? “ Mhm, I have everything, Cassie,” you coo’d gently, watching as his arms bulged from carrying so many bags.

He had spent the entire day with you, bouncing from store to store. He absolutely didn’t let you pay, insisting that you’d never pay for a single thing in his presence. Carrying your bags was out of the question aswell, he told you to just look pretty and grab his arm, which you didn’t say no to. Finally he escorted you home again, and this time he truly payed attention to where you lived. You lived in a massive townhouse in the nicest neighborhood of Velaris, he was curious on how you managed to snag something like this. These neighborhoods had been incredibly difficult to find houses in, let alone such a fine house such as your own. It made him wonder what you worked with or if you had inherited it somehow.

There was a mysterious air surrounding you that he was just dying to find out about. In his eyes, you were something of a puzzle that needed solving. He recognized the hypocrisy of his statement as he also hadn’t told you much about himself, but he could feel it in his bones that there was more to you.

No, he couldn’t let this be, Cassian wanted to get to know his mate, so he asked you out.

“ Go on a date with me, Y/n. Does tomorrow work for you?” You tilted your head and meekly told him something that made him smile.

”Yay, that sounds so much fun, I’ll be wearing something pink. Hmm, or maybe green… No, no definitely pink! What heels should I wear though?… “ Cassian felt his heart beating faster as his cheeks heated. You stood infront of your stairs as you pondered over what hairstyle you were going to pick.

He stepped closer, towering over you as you felt his heat radiating from his chest. “I’ll pick you up at 8, be ready by then sweetheart.” Cassian was hit by deja vu as you once again stood on your tippy toes and gave his cheek a kiss, leaving a lipstain print on his cheek. “ Can’t wait, Cassie!! See you tomorrow.”

He gave your forehead a kiss, right by your hairline as he got a wiff of your shampoo. You smelt heavenly and he didn’t want to let you go. But it was only until tomorrow evening and if he didn’t have the power to wait until then, then he had some serious issues. “ It’s a date then, pretty girl.” He watched as you smiled at him before skipping inside and locking your door.

Cassian felt your excitement through the bond, and felt happier than he had in a long time. He simply couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

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tarjapearce · 8 months

Text

Crimson Crown (Pt. 3)

Royal! AU Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing fanart for this fic ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Angst, Sibling bonding, awkward talks, mild squeeze of jealousy if you squint, Bit of fluff, meaningful talks, slow burn, apologies, tension, arranged marriage.

Summary: In the admist of a feely chaos, a common ground is found.

Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 <3

Every bendable joint stretched, and some popped as you awoke, but in all honesty, functioning today wasn't something you wanted to do. Thoughts rooting heavier in your head upon remembering last night's events.

Your face sunk into the pillow, allowing its plush and warm embrace to cradle your face longer. Bloodshot eyes turned glossy and soon one tear fell. Another followed and so on, as if your body had finally released all the bad things that you had been bottling up.

You didn't cherish it, just finally dwelled on it, giving in to the sadness you had pushed away for so long that it came biting back at you before reaching for your diary and writing all your suffering away. Some tears certainly had stained the pages as you wrote.

Dainty hand scribbled angrily and pained but eventually stopped after a couple of pages. The servants announced their presence to bring your first meal of the day. A bit of gruel and fruit.

One of the servants stared at you for a second, but quickly returned to her duties, leaving you alone once more. Appetite wasn't something you wanted to indulge in too much, but certainly, you'd need the energy if you wanted to go out.

You ate in between stacking all the paintings back in the wooden box. The colorful landscape of your room was slowly returning to its dull color. The sheets and the hardened tainted tips of the paintbrushes were the only things that popped out.

The paintings were stacked into a corner as you made the space for another hobby, almost leaving the place as you had originally acquired it. Cold, empty, home of the darkness that loved to sit and watch you from the corners.

You'd miss your mother's comforting words after a terrible day, you missed Lucille. Sometimes you'd indeed wonder what would she be doing. Why Miguel forbade to bring her in was a mystery to you. The only thing certain is that you needed your friend. You needed a friend.

Of course, you missed the little cherry tart Lucille gave you every time she'd find you crying. The strolls through the castle she'd take you to whenever your parents discussed things so carelessly before you. But none of that mattered anymore.

A princess's duty was far more than just training oneself in the arts and being well-versed in many things. The ugly side of it, something you'd recently been acquainted with, had taught you the real meaning of being a royal. Sacrifice.

Even though your kingdom was now under the protection of Arachne, the price in return seemed a bit too high. Your happiness. But again as your mother had said

Our wishes matter little when men decide it's fun to play war.

Those words have stuck with you ever since. Marriage was something you didn't though too much, despite your father's attempts to marry you to a king of abroad lands. He even had considered offering your hand in marriage to Kraven if it meant to keep the peace. Of course, your mother had opposed greatly, but she was only saving you up as her last card under the sleeve and handed you over to the biggest player in the war-waging game, Miguel.

Miguel had won. Like usual. You were to marry him within two months and a week. It finally dawned on you—cold and bitter truth. You dreaded marrying him and just acting like a public figure for both kingdoms. He didn't need you, much to your maudlin reasoning, you knew he was more than capable of leading the kingdom on his own.

He doesn't need you

Your mind chanted. And for a moment you believed it. The way he acted, showing little glimpses of kindness to then completely ignoring you until he saw fitting not doing so, either by his counselor's advice or a little guilt.

Guiltiness

Of course not. The man had slayed without remorse anything that meddled with his kingdom. You were sure that if your realm would have much more resources, you'd be at war with him.

But this kind of war, an inner one, was something you were losing.

You had seen his little to no reaction to what his brother had called you. The word made you sick, but it made you sicker to know he let everything unfold.

So so cold.

Mere politics. A game in which you were a pawn. His pawn. It kind of made you wonder what kind of mistresses he had.

Had you met them without realizing it? Hopefully not, and you prayed for it to never happen. You wouldn't be able to stand it. A reason why you admired so much your mother.

On rare occasions, you had seen her cry because your father preferred a mistress' than her own company, but she always held her head high, face cold and proud. Never allowing the rest to see her waver.

Fresh tears were wiped off your face as the servants came once more. You bathed and prepared for the day. Peter came in once you were ready, frowning for a moment at your reddened face, his eyes noticed you had cleaned up the painting area, leaving it bare.

"Your Majesty" Peter greeted

You bowed at him.

"Could I have Lady Gwen and Lord Hobie to accompany me today?"

Peter tilted his head in confusion, "Beg your pardon?"

"I will go to the city, I need some supplies."

"You could ask and the king-"

"He's done enough. I don't wish to keep using his good faith when I can get them myself, ser Peter."

The words felt sharp as they came out of your mouth, but in truth, you didn't want to keep adding to his stress.

You sighed as your fist clenched for a moment on the skirt of your dress.

" And I need to clear my head. A trip to the city would be good."

"You've got to understand that I cannot leave your side, right?"

"If you get in trouble, I'll take full responsibility for it."

Peter's eyes softened and nodded.

"I'll call them."

-------

"Are you awake?" Gabriel spoke as he entered Miguel's chambers. The king received him with a grunt as he looked at some new reports Jessica had brought him.

"Of course you are. Did you even get some sleep?"

"No."

"Surprise, surprise." Gabriel shook his head and took one report. Miguel's gaze fixed on him, a little hidden smile creeping on his face.

"What are you doing?"

Gabriel's hand unfolded yet another report, "Helping you."

"I can do it myself."

"It's my kingdom too. Of course, I need to know what is happening around."

Miguel chuckled and let him. They remained quiet, going through the many reports. Some weren't as urgent as the others, surveillance of areas, economics, politics, and letters incoming from other kingdoms.

A couple of ones directed to you. Your parents mostly and one from a woman named Lucille. He put your cards away and let one of his agents, Margo, deliver them to you. He didn't trust regular servants to deliver such personal things, too much of a risky move.

"What are the plans for today besides pouring yourself to work?"

Miguel sighed and went through the last report before looking at Gabriel.

"I need to test some things before making advance in something else."

Gabriel rested against his chair and put his feet on the table, which Miguel quickly removed.

"Thought you'd like to apologize to your future bride."

"She doesn't want to be disturbed, and you're the one at fault. Not me."

Gabriel's eyes widened softly and he nodded.

"Still, I might send her a letter."

"No. You're to ask an audience with her and apologize. Make it right."

"What about you?"

Miguel waved him off, a sign to which Gabriel understood as 'I'll find a way later'.

"You know... heard the servants talking"

"I don't have time for gossip, Gabriel."

The younger O'Hara snorted and gestured towards him.

"They say they have seen your little princess crying. A lot, ever since she came here actually."

Miguel tensed for a moment and put the papers down.

"I know it's been forever since you've courted someone. But-"

"Courting doesn't lead a country"

Gabriel shrugged and stood. "In any case, I will apologize once she returns from her trip."

His words snapped Miguel's attention back at him.

"What trip?"

Gabriel smirked at his demanding tone, "She's in the city, looking for things."

Miguel pinched his nose bridge.

"She could've asked..."

"Peter sent her off-"

"What do you mean Peter is here?! He is supposed to be her guardian!"

Miguel secured the sword to his hip and darted out of his room. Gabriel seemed pleased as he followed him. He thrived in seeing his brother antsy and panicky over silly things.

A present reminder that he was still human, and not a belicista monster at heart like everyone made him to be.

Peter's eyes darted away from him upon his arrival.

"Why aren't you with the Princess?"

"She asked me not to come with her. Asked for Gwen and Hobie instead"

Miguel's icy glare remained on a scowling Peter.

"Why?"

"Ask her yourself."

Gabriel's excitement died upon sensing the tension between the both.

"Ser Peter, my apologies for interrupting your duty. But, do you know by chance where she has gone to?"

"She needed some space."

Away from you both.

Peter's mind wanted to say but it would surely gain his title removed. His mouth kept in a straight line as Miguel kept on glaring at him.

"She wanted to get some things for herself."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Peter sighed and shook his head.

"Because she said you'd done enough. And she doesn't want to be disturbed."

Gabriel cringed, his eyes darting back and forth between Miguel and Peter. He didn't mean to offend you, but something worse was happening. And it was his fault, yet Miguel was already seizing that burden as his own.

" Will you let us know when she arrives? I understand her wish to be left alone, but the distress I put her through yesterday needs to be addressed as soon as possible."

Peter just nodded as Miguel entered your chambers. His frown immediately deepens upon seeing the current state of your room. Just like he had given it to you. Bland, dull, and with no colors, just like your ongoing emotions.

The paints were carefully stacked in a corner, his gift stored back where he had sent it. The faint scent of your perfume, the only indicator you had been here, was subtly overpowered by the smell of dried oil paintings.

Your desk was neatly organized, but a couple of crumpled sheets ruined the pristine image. He took one and unfolded it bit by bit. A single word scribbled and scratched with such violence it tore the page.

Concubine.

He rubbed his face and crumpled the sheet once more. Angry steps guide him away from your room. Gabriel was out of his sight.

Good.

----

The trip had surely made your brain ease the anguish and bad thoughts your mind was spiraling into.

One thing you certainly liked about Arachne, was the many imported products you could find. That would mean, finding the golden Thelerian thread you used for your embroidering back at home.

Crimson, golden, green, indigo blue, and black along some hoops and needles. You also got some other materials. Hobie and Gwen followed you but kept their distance when sensing the gloominess taking over you. They just followed wherever you went. They gave you your space.

You'd stop at the baker's for his tarts, obviously. You got half a dozen of them. Along with some more books about Arachne.

There were a couple of interesting things that caught your attention. The machinery used was something you'd never seen before; and surely the affluence of foreign people.

If you paid close attention, you could distinguish the people from their origin country. Erunians’ upper class always dressed in fine linens with subtle armoring pieces, a couple of them paraded through the market.

You could spot some fellow Thelerians in the art and fabric shops. They'd be probably looking for supplies, as well for a new upcoming activity in the arts academy. A wistful and longing glance was thrown their way before your eyes met a flamboyant man, dressed in the silkiest fur coat you had seen so far.

An Onerimian. You saw other people, probably people from even further kingdoms of Enethor.

It made sense for Miguel to go to such extent as to marry himself in exchange for his country thriving. He was a king after all. No monarch would want their land suffering unless it was a terrible one. Which you had heard stories about.

Once your shopping ended, you got back into the carriage and returned to the palace.

-----

The news of your arrival fell upon both Miguel’s and Gabriel's ears. The latter got himself ready to talk to you.

"See you later, Miggy"

Miguel just grunted in response as he watched you from his window and rubbed his face on your melancholic expression.

The servants always talked, but seeing your face with saddened and dull eyes, made the headache grow gradually.

The council held less power than him, but even so, their influence was something he couldn't deny. An extension of his power. They helped him as well with so many other things, or else he'd never had a break.

Being a ruler wasn't easy, being the head of a whole nation was worse. For once, the questioning of his worth came into mind after so many years.

He had even sacrificed his health to keep the kingdom striving and together for the past seventeen years on his own. And in all that time a marriage never crossed his mind. Until now.

----

"Princess!"

Gabriel bowed with a serious face, and your discomfit grew, but you still pushed that aside and bowed back.

"My lord."

Gabriel sighed and clasped his hands before you.

"Could you spare me some minutes of your time for a hearing, your highness?"

Your heart thumped with violence inside your chest but you nodded

"Certainly, sir."

"Good. I... Thank you. I know you wanted to be left alone for the day, but I must apologize to you for my actions yesterday. It was completely out of line."

Gabriel sighed and looked at you, honest words and eyes fixed on your defeated form.

"I didn't know my brother had gotten engaged. I was out on duty and found out when I got to the castle. It has never been my intention to insult you, your highness."

"Your honesty is quite admirable, ser. Thanks for that"

"Do you accept my apologies?"

"Yes. Now if you'd excuse me, I must go"

Gabriel bowed and left you be.

The servants took your things inside your room as you bowed to everyone that greeted you.

Dinner time approached and the food was brought to your room.

Your mind gravitated towards Miguel. Thankful that he had respected your wishes to be left alone for the day.

What about tomorrow and the day after that?

Your hands faltered and a heavy sigh escaped your lips.

As long as you were kept busy, the rest didn't matter, right? He seemed way too contemptuous of being away and meddling with his affairs.

Probably with a mistress

Your breath hitched as you rubbed your face in disgust at your thoughts. What he did in his spare time was none of your business. Yet it was unavoidable to feel your chest constricting at your hurting thoughts.

Enough

Your mind rumbled as you focused on the new task before you. The embroidery was one of your favorites, it was calming and required your full attention. It helped you back at home.

-----

The next day went like nothing had happened. You were still in your room, embroidering. You were so engrossed in your task that got startled when a woman in her elite uniform cleared her throat, finally making her presence known to you.

"My apologies for startling you, your highness. I am Margo. One of the king's agents."

She bowed and you followed

"He sends this to you."

Margo delivered a little paper with a note scribbled on it. Penmanship sloppy and hurried but legible enough.

Meet me at the main hall within an hour.

You frowned upon reading the note and sighed.

"I'll be there. Thanks for your service, Lady Margo."

"Please, just Margo. I'll let him know of your reply right away."

She left, and you groaned inwardly.

Nervous steps guided you through the main halls of the castle. Finally, they stopped a few meters away from what you thought was his office. He was talking to Jessica and then excused himself as soon as he saw you.

Oh dear.

-----

He was before you within a couple of strides, long legs reached your presence, and his forever stoic yet deep eyes settled on you. Breathing felt heavy and stuffy.

"Princesa" his voice held a bit of a gruff. He cleared his throat and pointed the way ahead.

"Walk with me."

It wasn't a suggestion or an order. And still, you followed. His hands clenched and relaxed as He walked with you, matching your pace.

"Is there a specific reason why you have requested my company tonight, My lord?"

He chuckled, glad that you were addressing things without sugarcoating them.

"I want to apologize."

"Whatever for? Prince Gabriel has already apologized. We have... reached a truce regarding that situation."

Miguel glanced at you with curious and soft eyes as you both kept walking through the castle.

"I know you are aware of what our marriage implies, Princesa."

"Of course. Even though my family was the one to orchestrate such union, I’m a firm believer that our kingdoms could mutually benefit from it."

"My thoughts exactly. What are your prospects for Theleria? "

"We might not be the realm we used to be centuries ago, but I believe we have been turning into something better. I don't favor war, and many might see it as a weakness, but as long as there are more options, I won't be afraid to explore them."

"What if war is the only way?"

"Is it truly, though? I know there are times when war is the only way out. And as much as it pains me, it must be seen through. To me, war is the last resource."

"On that, we agree."

Miguel nodded as you stared at him with a curious gaze.

"Contrary to what everyone outside my kingdom's walls believes, I don't engage in war because they're fun. Wars are the result of several failed attempts at dialogue. My last resource."

You smiled softly at his words and he smiled back.

"I must apologize to you, then. My initial judgment has been proven wrong. And I'm glad it did."

"How so?" Miguel inquired as you both walked wherever your feet took you. The soft and sweet scent of the gardens tickled your nose.

"This arranged marriage was quite sudden for both. I know much. You weren't looking for such a thing, neither did I. Yet-"

"Here we are."

Miguel slicked his hair back as Peter's words finally started to sink in.

"I know a kingdom is the most important thing for a good ruler. It is important to you as it is important to me."

You spoke as you faced him.

"My parents might have arranged this, but... It doesn't mean we can't influence the path it takes. As your future... ally"

Your words hesitated, "I want to be seen as more than just a public figure, but someone you can rely on if the chance presents itself."

Miguel's heart thumped with strength at your words. His gaze remained on you a little longer than it should.

" What do you aspire to accomplish in Arachne, Princesa?"

" The same thing I'd want for my future kingdom, My lord. For it to keep striving, improving, and marching towards a better future, where its citizens know they can have the same opportunities they'd get in abroad lands. For them to know that we have their back. Like it should be."

Miguel's hands tingled upon your words. The urge to reach for you and hug you at finally finding someone who understood his reasoning was a bit overwhelming, in a good kind of way. His heart seemed to be pumping in excitement.

"Seems we share a vision."

"Indeed. Our kingdoms' well-being is the thing that brought us here. Would be foolish to think differently."

"I apologize if... I've underestimated your reasoning, Princesa."

You shook your head with a lax smile.

"It's alright, sir. It's only natural to be guarded towards stranger's opinions."

"You're certainly no stranger"

Your brows rose in surprise "Oh?"

Miguel blinked at his own words

"I mean..."

He rubbed his neck softly

"I think allies would be too soon since I've got yet, to prove my worth to you and your scary council. Acquaintances, it's the right term."

You spoke with a soft smile. The kind of smile one would wear when facing an awkward truth.

"Acquaintances, then."

He didn't like that word, as true as it was. It didn't sit right in his head and it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I must know though, Princesa. Why would you order Peter to stay behind?"

"Well, poor man needed a break. He's always looking after me."

His jaw clenched softly at the compassionate words for Peter.

"You must understand he can't leave your side, right?"

"I take full responsibility for that, my lord. I know I shouldn't ignore your authority. I'm sorry for that."

The servants ran around the castle, some looked your way with keen eyes, whispering among them as they saw you and Miguel.

"In any case, thanks for listening, my lord. I hope your doubts have been cleared a bit with our conversation. Your company is always enjoyable"

"Certainly."

His mind slapped himself inwardly as you chuckled.

"Then I bid you a goodnight, ser."

You bowed to him and made your way back to your room. He went back to his office.

His mind ran a mile per second with all sort of thoughts.

"Certainly" He groaned in annoyance. He also wanted to say your company was good, but instead, he came out as a self-centered man.

"What's wrong?"

Peter entered his chambers in casual dressings and Miguel glared at him upon remembering the other bits of the conversation.

"You don't need a fucking break. I do."

Peter's brows knitted together in confusion at his sudden words. Your genuine concern for Peter didn't sit right either.

"Then, spend more time doing what you like. Or more time with the princess."

"She said we're acquaintances."

"Which is not far from the truth. Why are you upset?"

"Because you were right. And I hate it when you do."

Peter's smile grew wider "Told you."

"Cállate."

Peter chuckled and sat before him.

"What did you talk about?"

"She told me that she wanted to be a reliable ally. She... understands my vision."

Peter's eyes widened softly as his smile turned into a smirk.

"Seems you did right in approaching"

"Told you to keep your allies closer."

Your sincere words regarding your concerns about the kingdom had his attention fully enraptured into you. The attention that he only put into little selected things. A sort of attention he'd gladly address you again with, just to hear you talk so fervently about your common goals.

"Si si, ya. Vete." (Yeah, yeah. Leave)

"Sleep. Tomorrow's a long day."

He just nodded and watched Peter leave.

Acquaintances were better than strangers. It was a progress, a baby step, but a step closer nonetheless.

-----

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#king miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #astv miguel #miguel atsv #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x y/n #t writes✨

497 notes · View notes

primrosebow · 2 months

Note

Do you draw or write for the girls? Because I would love seeing any type of Lute, Charlie or Vaggie art in your style

Also I would eat your art 20/10

Short answer: yahhh xoxo💞

Long answer:

_-->Various hazbin hotel women x reader // art

!Content warnings!:the usual nsfw, this has the gals listed in the ask🫡 a few headcannons added for flavor, gn reader cause I never specified literally anything, more words than usual.

We are SO BACK 💪💪💪 request things ‼️ My activities would get me perma banned from the vatican, I'm afraid.

Charlie //

I, unlike most other people here, believe that charlie most often tries to take the role of a dom! She's used to trying to fix everyone else's problems, but, she'll crumble if she ever gets treated like the perfect princess that she is. Call her beautiful, praise her, give her that affection she desperately needs. She's been helping her citizens for so long, she deserves to get taken care of!

Honestly, when you slowly push that vibrator inside her after what felt like an agonizing ammount of time for prepping, she was ready to cry on the spot. She can barely believe you even talked her into being in the receiving end of this -she's the one supposed to be pleasing you!- Getting this much attention and love made her brain go all fuzzy and tears well up in her eyes as her limbs felt weak; she was trembling far too much from the overwhelming pleasure she felt right then to truly care about what this whole situation did to her ego.

She doesn't realize her horns have made an appearence as she pleads with you: come on! You were giving her so much attention just a minute ago! Please! Being as close to you as possible is her only wish right now. Her pitiful tone and cries for you directly contradict how her tail is shaking at it's tip, much like that of an excited cat -she's enjoying this far more than she expected-.

If you do decide to give in and finally rub on her already overstimulated clit just as you had been doing before, she'll cling onto you for dear life- practically sobbing as you give her precisely what she needs. Maybe she can get used to being treated nicely by you. (She learns that she cannot get enough of the overwhelming passionate act of letting you be in control, it's far too good for her to only experience it once.

She'll soon get a little cocky though... she isn't the daughter of the king of pride just because of her name, if you catch what I'm throwing)

// //

Vaggie //

Vaggie has placed quite a notorious quantity of expectations on herself. She's always been this way, and, continues to be despite your affirmations of her worth. Your constant and relentless words of praise to her: how beautiful she is, how strong, how perfect, how brave, how hot- it all got to her head very quickly. Your words contradicted her thoughts on herself but the way you kiss along her neck makes any thought melt away from her brain and be replaced with pure emotion.

// //

"Mh.. please, darling- I-" she tried to form a sentence, eventually getting cut off by her own moans. Her nightgown was pushed up as she laid with her back against your bed, squirming slightly as she feels your fingers rub against her insides. She clenches around you as you drag your thumb over her swolen clit, which was begging for your attention since the very start of this. Her hips stutter as she can't pick between indulging the stimulation and running away from the pleasure.

Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open, but you had told her to look at you during this. She couldn't let you down. Not when you were saying she was "doing so good f'me". Those are some of the few words that can pierce through the thick veil of the ecstasy-like feeling of your attention and carve themselves into her very soul. She was good. Good for you. She couldn't ask for anything better, and, won't- can't be letting you down.

You.. leave her easy tasks such as looking at you and being a little quieter just so she feels like she's still, in some way, being useful to you. Slow and steady wins the race, and, soon enough you hope to remove the constant anxiety of servicing you from the act of love you want to give her.

Lute //

Lute is quite interesting because she has this weird duality between wanting approval and not being able to take said approval. Sometimes, she'll activelly attempt to rile you up enough that you'll punish her (something you have already told her is not necessary, since you can be harsher on her if she simply asks) but please don't blame her! She's just used to being treated roughly, it's "safer" for her to stay in her comfort zone of thorns and cruel words at first.

But only at first. Like I said, she really does want to feel loved. One of the first times you attempted to give her the affection she craves, after having learned that she can't deal with the purely lovey, sappy affection yet, you had to get resourceful with bringing her the love she needs.

"Awh sweetheart, you can't handle this?" You dig your fingers even deeper into her, a squelching noise arises from the action because of just how wet she already is. She groans at your words, and, if you didn't know any better, she'd have sounded like any other cheap sinner from lust with how aroused she was at your teasing. But you do know better. Your comment- it was slightly mocking, it was maddening; it was a challenge. For her to keep her composure for as long as she can. Lute grabs onto you even harder so she can regain some sense of stability, finally locking eyes with you. She moves her hips slightly against your fingers. Despite it being her own action, she groans. She says in a shaky tone

"Do your worst."

Ah, you can't deny such a request, now, can you?

// //

BONUSSSSSSSSS‼️

Velvette //

"Agh- fuck you! H-ah-" she tried to act mad, don't get her wrong. She really did. But that's astoundingly hard to do when your lover has their hand in your panties and is currently relentlessly and harshly rubbing against your clit like it was the last thing they'll ever touch.

You really could not have picked a worse time to do this; right before one of her new collection showcases? Did you want her to die? You forcefully push her thighs apart when she pressed them toguether, not letting her even attempt to get back a semblance of composure. As if that wasn't enough, you had locked her bracelets toguether behind her back, and, even if she wouldn't admit it to a single soul, it really turned her on.

She tried to think as hard as she could, try to offend you, try to play her own pleasure down, but she really couldn't. Empty remarks about your incompetence or appearence or literally anything she could get her mind around slowly melted away into moans and whines, the much too familiar shame from getting overwhelmed so easily by you also pushed aside by a desperate search for her own release.

When she finally did cum, she doesn't hold back on how loud her moan of your name was, her thighs trembled as she leaned on your body for support. She intentionally turns her head away from the mirror so she won't be faced by her own overstimulated self, and much less your self-satisfied grin as you watch her panting against you.

Oh gods... what was she doing again? Hmm.. OH YOU BASTARD YOU RUINED HER PANTIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THAT FABRIC WAS? FUCK YOU.

Let's just hope that the fashion gossip blogs don't catch onto how uncharacteristically out of breath she was during that showcase!

I love piracy so much RAHHHHHH‼️‼️ if buying ain't ownin, piracy ain't stealin, but I wish it were. IMAGINE‼️ you download idk ratatouille and they just don't have it anymore. "Guys they took ratatouille again..." I wish. I wish watching media through torrent sites was like taking various items from ikea.

I WOULD download a car.

@bigfatbimbo cause of the little bonus of velvette

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel charlie x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel vaggie x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel lute x reader #woah thats a lot of tags

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wlwloverwrites · 2 years

Text

Everything’s in Check

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Reader x Dark!Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Dr. Romanoff has a check up appointment with the help of her nurse assistant, Wanda Maximoff.

Warnings: medical kink, latex gloves kink, fingering, humiliation kink, dark themes, smut (18+) crying, vaginal dilators, numbing with the use of injection

stop reading if it makes you uncomfortable! ALSO i’m not a doctor and refuse to do research, so if i say something medically incorrect… ignore it.

Main Masterlist

DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORK. YOU DO NOT HAVE MY PERMISSION TO DO SO. DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, OR PLAGIARIZE MY WORK ON AN OTHER PLATFORM OR “GIVE ME CREDIT”

To be transparent, you feared coming in this morning. You never really had a good experience with doctors. You remember your first doctor, his hands were rough, eyes looked bored, and he barely talked to you. He was a big meanie. Your second doctor was almost the same, only his eyes wandered and asked question you knew had no relation to your visit.

This meant if you needed to go to the doctors, you would make sure to postpone that trip as much as possible. So that’s what you did, only you had a new doctor.

“Are you scared?”

The voice makes you jump. The thin medical gown did little to protect you from the cold or cover your backside. You tried leaving your underwear on, but Nurse Maximoff insisted you took them off to ‘make things easy for Dr. Romanoff’.

“A little,” you reply softly.

You try not to move because you know the medical examination table will squeak. Plus, you know the disposable paper beneath you will tear with a single flinch. You’re trying to save yourself from that embarrassment.

“You can always hold my hand if it gets too much, how does that sound?”

You eyes light up from the kind offer before you shyly nod. “Yes, please. I’ve never done this before and all my friends said it hurt them.”

“It can be scary, but Dr. Romanoff is very good at her job. She’ll do her best to keep you comfortable.” You smile at that and giggle when Nurse Maximoff send you a wink before closing the door.

It isn’t long until you hear muffled voices just outside the door. An unfamiliar woman walks in with Nurse Wanda not far behind. Her presence automatically makes you nervous, you don’t know if it’s her bold hair or the way she briefly smiled at you. On autopilot, the two women wash their hands with such grace. It’s almost like watching ballerinas dance, it’s art.

“How are you doing today, Y/N,” she asked before turning over to look at you. You can’t determine whether or not she is truly asking. Did she care?

Her eyes were pretty, delicate but fierce. Enough green to get lost in and think or the plant stems that carry the blooming flowers; however, they were firm enough to make you stutter.

“I-I am doing good, Dr. Romanoff,” you nod awkwardly as you fiddled with your thumbs.

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart.” She pauses looking down at her click board before continuing, “Please call me Natasha.”

Okay… maybe she does care.

“I take it that my best nurse, Wanda, walked you through everything?” She assumes as she grabs the abnormal latex gloves for a doctor. They aren’t their usual light blue, instead they are black.

Nervously, you answered that she had and said no when she asked you if you had any further questions. She motioned for you to change positions on the examination chair. Latex-covered hands tap your ankles as they are moved on their correct position on the stirrups.

“Just as a precaution we’ll need to strap you down, okay sweetheart?” She doesn’t really leave room for discussion when she nods to Wanda. But you think nothing of it, because Dr. Romanoff’s hands rub your calves gently.

Your breath hitches when Wanda tightens the buckle over your thighs. You’re shy when it’s blatantly obvious your parts are fully exposed. You avoid eye contact the second you see Dr. Romanoff’s eyes look between your legs. Your hands go to cover your face when you hear the two women whisper to each other.

“Oh no, honey. Are you shy?” Natasha coos. She motions for Wanda to comfort you. You almost want to burst into tears when your nurse rubs your arms. The friction is a bit awkward her her gloves on, but you think it’s sweet nonetheless.

“A little.” You whine whine softly and choke on your breath when you feel fingers rub between your legs.

Your teeth bite the inside of your cheek when you see her grab the rather large speculum. Your doctor is more then generous with the lube, something you’re thankful for. You’ve heard the horror stories. Wanda’s hand slips comfortably in yours when Natasha pushes the tip of tool inside you.

Hissing at the cold temperature of the metal incanting your most private area. You try your best to hold in your tears, you do, but it hurts. If it wasn’t for your doctor’s worried eyes looking back at you you’d think she was doing this on purpose.

You would truly believe that Dr. Romanoff was just another meanie.

The grip you have on your nurse’s hand is enough to make your fingers cramp. You can’t imagine how Nurse Maximoff’s hand must feel. Restraints wrapped around your thighs and calves only tighten with every flinch. You can already see the marks and imprint on your skin later.

“I’m hurting you too much,” Natasha sighs, defeated.

You want to scoff in her face, as if the tears rolling down your cheeks and small sniffles weren’t enough, but you cry in relief when she pulls the tool out. At that point you couldn’t think about doing anything else but thank her.

“I know a way it will feel better, okay?” Natasha hums. She hums a second time to get your approval. Butterflies fly in your tummy as you watch her snap the gloves off her hands. Your eyes on her hands and widened when you see she is staring at you, staring at her.

“Yes doctor.”

“And if that doesn’t work I have something else we can try,” she shrugs casually as she shuffled through her medical tools.

You nod as your blink away your dried tears. Anything but that. Glossy eyes glance up at the nurse in the room. Even with her mask on you can tell how beautiful she is. Subconsciously your walls clench around nothing when she sends you a flirty wink. Shy, you break eye contact and try to close your legs. You swear you hear a light chuckle.

“Nurse?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Clean her up.”

Confused you watch your nurse walk around to the corner of the room. You hear the plastic before you see it. Nurse Maximoff settles down where Dr. Romanoff once was with a small pack of wipes.

You throw your head back connecting the dots. This has got to be the most humiliating thing ever. You want to protest and tell both your doctor and nurse that you’re more than capable to clean and wipe yourself away, but your hands are shaky and your heart is racing.

As soon as you feel the first wipe your eyes water once more. You’re ashamed and feel so useless when the nurse grabs the second wipe. She gentle and wipes away all the excess lube left behind from your doctor. You hide your tears and sigh in relief when the redhead sitting between your separated legs is finished. You count to five slowly in your head, blocking out the two intelligent women who seem to have no issue with your nakedness and discomfort.

The colorful box in your doctor’s hands sparks an interest. You barely have a chance to read the label before Dr. Romanoff tears the unopened box. With new clean gloves, she carefully placed these multi-colored, plastic inserts on her sterile tray. There’s five different rod-like devices, each bigger and thicker than the last with a rounded tip.

“I know they look scary, honey,” your doctor paused as she gathered the rest of her tools, “But we will take it slow.”

You nodded, but gave a verbal answer after Nurse Maximoff raised her eyebrows. Once again, the red head found her place between your thighs with the smallest ‘vaginal dilator’ in her hand.

She was quick. Wasted no time.

You gasped when she pushed the small tool passed your entrance. This one wasn’t so bad. Your nails digging into the poor chair could finally relax. Whispers are shared between the two scholars as your doctor carefully switched the tool for a bigger size. This one didn’t sting too much. There was a slight burn.

“Relax.”

The third one hurt. The stretch stun and had your fingernails dig into your palms. Muscles you never knew existed felt sore from the sudden and abnormal stretch. You want to protest when your doctor reaches for the fourth one.

“Too much?”

You nod with shiny eyes.

A silent conversation is shared through the medical professionals with their eyes. Wanda taps your hand before moving to grab something behind you. Your doctor tries to distract you by rubbing her hand on your inner thighs.

“Honey, we are going to try that last thing, m’kay?” she pauses and you swear you have a finger flicking thin glass. “You’ll feel a small pinch,” she squeezes the meaty part of your inner thigh before continuing, “but we will give it a couple seconds to kick in and you won’t feel a thing.”

An intimidating needle is passed onto your doctor which leaves you shaking like a leaf. She explains the small dose will leave you numb for the next thirty to sixty minutes and shouldn’t have any side effects. Your eyes overflowed with tears the second the needle pricks your skin. It’s only for a second and then the pain is gone. Sweet nothings are whispered into your ear as the doctor between your legs waits for drug to kick in. At first it feels funny and weird. Those words are the only ones that can describe it.

“How does that feel?”

You want to laugh at first, because you can’t feel anything, but your doctor is quick to get the message. She works between your legs as a very professional nurse distracts you. Nurse Wanda asks about your day when you see your doctor grab the cold, metal speculum. The same tool that made you flinch before was the least of your worries.

You don’t feel it, but you hear it. You hear how wet the space between your legs is. You can see the fascination in your doctor’s eyes when she replaces her tool with her fingers and you don’t even notice. You don’t notice she has three fingers inside you until she brings the soaked, gloved fingers to your nurse’s mouth. You watch, horrified and embarrassed when Wanda lets your taste sit before letting go of your hand and jotting down some notes. She studies you as if you were unconscious.

Your nurse is no better then your doctor. Humming when your slick hit her tastebuds. She even looks up at the ceiling so deep in a thought before she writes to the words ‘tastes sweet’. Settling her notes on a sterile table, your nurse, Wanda, stands behind Natasha staring hard between your legs.

“Doctor, what about this area here?”

Natasha eyebrows furrowed as her eyes followed her coworker’s pointer finger. She pointed to a small bud you never even knew existed, untouched. Numb between your legs, you jump at the feeling and overwhelming feeling of someone’s touch on the most sensitive part of your body.

“Oh no, looks like our anesthesia didn’t work here,” Natasha pouts with fake sadness. Brushing her latex covered thumb over the bud again making your eyes roll back and mouth fall open. She hums to herself as she continues, “But that doesn’t seem to be a problem, huh?”

A small chuckle that leaves Wanda’s mouth pulls your out of the pleasurable trance. Suddenly, you’re excessively aware of the position you’re in. The straps holding you down are tighter then before, fingernails are now digging into your palms, and the heat between your legs was growing profoundly. Panic start to set when you hear the wet noises. Your whole rocks with each thrust of your doctor’s fingers. The pads of her fingers hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your whole body cry.

Tears fall down your cheeks when you hear side comments like, “if I didn’t know any better I’d say she was a big whore” or “Look here, she can’t even control it.” The image of your doctor’s soaked fingers entering her mouth to “get a taste” for herself was something you knew would haunt you for the rest of your life. You’ll never forget the way she hums at your taste or the intense eye contact she shared with you while she suck her fingers clean. You can’t bare it. The way the two educated women completely disregard you, yet took notes off your body and its reactions. You want to bury yourself in a hole.

“Nurse.”

“Yes, doctor?”

“Bring over a mirror and grab a tissue for our sweet patient.”

If it weren’t for Natasha asking for the tissue you never would have known she cared for your tears. The mirror was something that threw you off. Scared, not knowing what was coming next your eyes follow Wanda as she grabs a circle mirror. The two women share a silent conversation which results in Wanda holding the mirror above Natasha’s head giving you the perfect view of your own body.

You can see Natasha’s fingers glistening with your slick and her spit. You can see the way you drip. You can almost see the way you throb.

You can see it. Her fingers inside, the four fingers stretching you. Your muscles straining to fit the sudden fullest, the fullest you couldn’t feel. You can see the way your muscles contract involuntarily. But you can’t feel it. Not until Wanda’s fingers rub your clit. Your whole body jerks as if Wanda had some type of power. You didn’t see them, but you hear the smirks on the women’s faces.

“There she is.”

Moans fall pass your lips uncontrollably. Wanda’s thumb doesn’t seem to rest as she circles your clit over and over again. Every time you closed your eyes are turn away from looking at the mirror Wanda landed a firm slap on your clit. Each time your thighs flinch and involuntarily vote to shut, but the straps tying them down only tighten. Your eyebrows scrunch in both confusion and pleasure. You’re confused by what you’re feeling. There’s heat in your belly as your hear beats faster than a racehorse.

“Come on, honey. Let go.”

Her directions are comforting, but your mind is foggy. The view of your doctor and her nurse towering over —what used to be— your untouched body. Her fingers inside you move faster, you can hear your body’s reaction and see Natasha’s concentration in her eyes. Weakly you shake your head no. Your skin on your chest feels hot. The medical gown you wore felt itchy on your skin. Your nipples pebbled through the thin material. With every move you whined at the feeling of the cotton dragging against your nipples. So sensitive.

“Let go, Y/N. I’m not asking.”

Natasha’s voice is enough to have you shaking in fear. She has all the power, she’s calling the shots.

“I don’t know how.”

Natasha sends Wanda a look that has the nurse smirking before nodding. You don’t know how her hand wasn’t tired from holding the mirror. It felt like you spread out open for the two of them for years. Natasha leans forward, blocking your own view of yourself. Bambi eyes meet Wanda’s because you don’t yearn for her hand to roughly meet your clit again. Her touch send tingles up your spine from the pain. Instead, you’re meet with something sweeter. Warm lips press a soft kiss on your clit. Eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel her tongue lick parts of you, you never even thought people wanted to taste.

Your hands have a mind of their own when your finger bury themselves in her red strands of hair. Pulling her mouth impossibly closer, whining when the pleasurable sensation would disappear if she lick too low. Your teeth clench when Natasha’s teeth lightly graze your clit. You want to let out a loud moan, but it’s swallowed by Wanda’s kiss.

Wanda, feeling a bit left out, took matters into your own hands and stole your first kiss. The kiss is messy. An inexperienced mouth paired with a brain clouded with first time sex wasn’t a smart choice. Teeth clash together, but Wanda doesn’t seem to mind. Her notebook and mirror were long forgotten as her hands slip beneath your medical gown and reach your breasts. Her lips find themselves wrapped around your tongue as she slowly pulls away there’s spit dribbling down his chin, it’s exotic. You have much time to process the wet dream of a woman right in front of you when Natasha works harder with her mouth and Wand’s fingers find your sensitive nipples. Rolling your nipples between her fingers while Natasha sucks, licks, bites, and kisses between your legs.

You feel your very first orgasm running you over like a truck. Your thighs shake as your body throbs in want. Natasha’s mouth doesn’t stop and Wanda’s fingers found their new home in your mouth. Latex-covered fingers trigger your gag reflex causing your eyes to blur with tears. You can’t see the way you soak your doctor’s face, but you get an idea when she pulls away and drags your hands away from her scalp and onto her face. Fingertips are met with a wet substance, then brought to your lips. Lips smeared with spit and a small hint of Wanda’s lipstick are now taking in a sweet taste.

“Such a sweet girl.”

Tuckered out, you don’t fulling understand the comment. You’re drained, literally, to a point you have no idea who spoke. You hear small shifts and feel hands on your knees. Wanda’s hands find the leather straps holding you down. You sigh, grateful for freedom. Only it never comes, the straps only tighten, you’re not sure how, but they do.

“Let’s try that again.”

Finally, the fic that’s long overdue. Don’t forget to reblog! If not comment :) also thanks for 4.3k followers!!

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popquizhot-shot · 10 months

Note

O my gosh do you think you can do a Miguel x teen reader. Where the reader has been in a depressed mood lately and no one can figure out what's wrong till they reveal that their headphones broke on their last mission and it was the last thing their remaining family member gave to them before they died and they blaime themselves for not being more careful with them.

Headphones-Miguel O’Hara x teen!reader.

As someone who’s emotionally attached to her heradpjones yes I can and will write this. Thank you all so much for the love and support from my last post! I’ll be taking a short break after this and I hope you all like it! Please comment and reblog if you do :D love you<3333

Warnings: Implied Hobie brown x reader; mostly fluff dw, crying.

ART BY THE AMAZING @thattripleabattery

“Is it just me, or is something off about her?” Miles nods towards you who is sitting all alone away from and sipping juice desolately as they all listen to Miguel’s newest monthly goal meeting.

“Something looks off about her, like something’s missing.” Gwen narrows her eyes at your figure.

You just keep nodding at intervals and try to pay attention but all you can think about are the headphones your brother had given you.

You considered them an extension of you, going so far as to even sometimes wear them during light missions while you waited for the threat to show up.

Your last mission had been gruelling, so bad to the point that both Jess and your dad had suggested you take a break from fighting to recuperate.

You were so devastated on the inside, all you did was just nod.

You knew that Miguel knew you were off. It was obvious that you joked less and acted tired. Not to mention the little amount of sleep you got.

It was stupid really, all this drama over a pair of headphones. Yet, they were the last connection you had to your brothers and it felt like you had truly lost your family when they broke into two.

Your mind was literally empty as you nodded at whatever Miguel was saying. You just dipped your juice and kept zoning in and out. It felt wrong that they weren’t there around your neck where they usually were.

Miguel started to notice your constant fidgeting and the way your hands kept rubbing your neck. He had also noticed your dull nature and the way your sweet smile stopped making its way onto your face.

Even to his lamest dad jokes, you’d respond with a huff and small twist of your lips.

As he wrapped up the plan, his eyes flit to yours and he saw you still nodding, your eyes glassy.

He takes a deep breath, “Dismissed, all of you leave. Now.”

The shuffle of chairs fills the room as everyone files out one by one.

He says your name, “Stay back.” And turns around to look at the hologram.

Miles and Gwen look at each other and then at you, who breathes in and nods without a word.

Once everyone has left, he turns back around to find you looking at him with your hands behind your back.

“What happened?” He asks and you sign.

“Nothing.”

“It’s rude to lie.”

“Manners maketh man and all that jazz.” You reply with a roll of your eyes.

“Seriously.” He raises his eyebrow and his hand rests on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yeah, god I’m fine! I was just an irresponsible shit and I broke my headphones.”

His eyebrows furrow, “The ones your brother gave you?”

You clench your jaw and nod, eyes smarting as you struggle not to cry at the thought.

He shrugs, “They’re just headphones, kid. You can always get another.”

You just scoffed, “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, you get it right?”he tips his down to make a point.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” You smile wryly and turn away so that he can miss the tear forming in your eye, “Cool, I’ll uh catch you later boss man.”

He stares after your retreating figure with remorse, did he say something wrong?

“You dumb idiot.” Lyla pops up.

“What?” He snarls, whirling to look at her.

“She was really attached to those headphones, Miguel.”

“She can always get new ones, Lyla. I’m getting them for her anyway.”

“Miguel it’s as if her brother died all over again.” Lyla replies firmly, “She’s hurting, ans you made her feel worse.”

Miguel hangs his head, “Shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but after years of shutting himself out, he didn’t understand people’s feelings like he used to, and he wanted with every fibre of his being to cheer you up, and he managed to screw it up.

“You need to go apologise and fix this.” Lyla points towards the doorway.

——————-

“It’s okay. Let it all out.” Hobie’s soothing voice is calming as his hand travels up and down your back to soothe you.

You breathe deeply before letting out another broken sob that only makes you more embarrassed, and in front of Hobie of all people. The guy just oozed absolute “don’t care” energy while still simultaneously being one of the most caring people you’d ever met.

Your apologies are hushed and he takes your face between his hands and wipes your tears from your cheeks, “You look pretty even when you cry.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

You hug him again, “Thank you.”

“I know what it’s like to lose something like that, and I’m sorry. But I know you will get over it and I salute you for being so brave.” He winks, “I’ve gotta run, catch you later.”

He quickly kisses your forehead and dashes off, leaving you stunned. After a few moments, a smile makes its way onto your puffy face.

“I’m going to kill that kid.” Miguel seethes as he watches from the camera.

———-

You were exhausted after a long day of training and you couldn’t wait to just go and fall asleep in your quarters.

The door swung open easily and your eyes flitted to the shabbily wrapped present on your bed. The bed that was unmade in the morning but was miraculously made and cleaned now.

Your eyes narrow as you tear away the wrapping to find a near identical pair of headphones to the ones that broke and your eyes widen in shock as you hold them up in front of you.

There’s a post-it stuck to the wrapping paper and you read the note that is unmistakably written by Miguel. You can recognise his chicken scratch handwriting.

“Im sorry for hurting your feelings this morning. And I hope this makes up for it. Don’t blame yourself, it was an accident and accidents happen. Im proud that you learnt your mistake and that you act so wise for your age, despite the fact that you decide to go to a weird British punk spider for advice, I am still proud of you. No es tu culpa, none of this is your fault.

Love,

Dad.”

—————-

“She seems to be in a much better mood today.” Gwen nudges Miles.

“She’s smiling and trying to get him to laugh.” Miles grins at your antics.

“Wait her headphones! They were missing, they’re back around her neck, that’s probably why she was in a shitty mood!” Pavitr reasons as Gwen nods in agreement.

“Are the three of you paying attention?” Miguel looks pointedly at the three kids and his glare then falls in Hobie who is seated next to you.

“Everyone dismissed!”

As everyone files out he says yet again, “Hobart, stay back.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #mini miguel<33 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara #atsv #atsv x reader

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bishopsbeloved · 3 months

Text

the art of falling in love (part three)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

read this fic on ao3!

But that awful feeling doesn’t go away… quite the contrary, it grows and grows. It’s a dark and hidden part of you, diseased, something you seek desperately to rid yourself of — but it only festers and worsens with the more time you spend with your love.

Yet being away from her is out of the question. The feeling only worsens whenever you’re away from her; an unbridled monster that dwells deep within the caverns of your chest, and bursts out at the most inopportune of moments. A tiny voice in the back of your head warns you that you’re turning into someone unrecognisable. You ignore it. Because you finally have the girl of your dreams, Natasha Romanoff, the one you’ve loved as long as you can remember.

“Whoever is this mystery girl you are dating, I do not like her,” Yelena says to you one day. It’s about a month now since the catastrophic spring break party at Tony’s house, and five months since the New Year’s party which began this whole mess. The two of you have been tasked with slicing vegetables for Melina, who is bustling busily around the stove. When Yelena speaks you have to physically pause to process her words, for fear you may otherwise slice straight through your own flesh as if it were another carrot.

“Mystery girl?” says Melina interestedly. “I did not know there was a mystery girl. How did I miss this? Y/N, sweetheart, you have a mystery girl and you have not brought her home yet?”

You glare at Yelena, and she smiles sweetly back.

“Nothing serious, ma,” you say to Melina as levelly as you can before turn to Yelena. “What do you mean, you don’t like her?” you ask, resuming your vegetable cutting. You try to ignore the shake of your hands and the beat of your heart. “You don’t even know who she is.” You hope, anyway.

She shrugs nonchalantly, as if she were discussing the weather rather than the affairs of your heart. “I don’t have to, to not like how she makes you feel. You are so different now, I do not like it. You are all sad and quiet and far away.”

“No I’m not,” you say in a small voice, fighting to hold back a tremble. You can only imagine the words she’d be saying if she knew it was her sister she was talking about.

“Yes, see!” says Yelena triumphantly, like you’ve just proven her point. “I say one thing and you are about to cry. Before you would hit me and we would be done.”

“You should not waste time on anyone who doesn’t treat you right, my sweet heart,” says Melina more tactfully, setting down her wooden spoon to cup your face in her gentle weathered hands. “You deserve the world. Find someone who gives you it.”

Your eyes do well up after she says that, and you have to turn away and blink rapidly so that Yelena doesn’t give you one of her knowing looks. To her credit, if she sees, she doesn’t say anything.

But Melina’s words weigh heavy on you, even after the conversation moves on — as though they’ve placed a physical burden upon your shoulders. They echo in your mind as you excuse yourself from the conversation and trudge upstairs, past the door of the very one they’re unknowingly warning you of. They play on repeat even as you’re beckoned into the bedroom of your secret paramour, who tells you to lock the door behind you. She’s sat on her bed, watching a Bond movie on her laptop, mouthing along to every word like she usually does.

“C’mere,” she says to you, patting the space between her legs. You obey wordlessly, sitting down between them with your back against her chest. Her arms wrap around you, tugging you closer, and her chin settles comfortably on your shoulder.

“Missed you,” she mumbles, sending shivers down your spine even as your troubled mind dwells on Mama Melina’s words.

You deserve the world, she repeats to you as Natasha begins to drop kisses along your neck, and you shift involuntarily in her lap. She groans and bucks up against you.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs against the skin of your collarbone, tugging at your shirt to trail her kisses lower. Natasha is your world, you think to yourself. And when she gives herself to you in moments like this, who are you to say it’s not enough? You remind yourself to be grateful every day that she sees fit to give you anything, to engage with you at all after she’s been so out of reach your entire life.

So as her kisses become lower and more insistent, you submit yourself to her completely, willing to do whatever pleases her. Because she is your world, and you would do anything for her — for better or for worse.

Unfortunately for you, though, Yelena does not seem to be the only one who’s noticed a shift in your behaviour.

Prom isn’t for another six or seven weeks, but already your classmates have begun the most over the top promposals you could think of, with each trying to outdo the last. It was only a few days ago that Bucky Barnes asked Steve Rogers to prom by writing “PROM?” on his back in sunscreen and then laying in the sun until the rest of him burnt. Rumour has it he tore off his shirt in front of their whole homeroom like some budget Superman knockoff. (Rumour also has it that Steve said yes. You’re not quite sure what to make of that.) (Well, at least you don’t have to worry about Bucky and Natasha anymore?) The halls are filled with hushed whispers of who might ask who next, and what methods they might choose to do so. And naturally, with Darcy being one of your closest friends, it is literally all you hear about when you are on the school premises.

…and Loki Laufeyson tells me Vision is thinking of asking you to prom, Wanda, Darcy signs triumphantly. You and your friend group are huddled around a table in the corner of the school library, supposedly studying, but with prom on the way that was never gonna happen. (The school librarian, Ms Harkness, is deathly serious about her no noise rules, but naturally as a friend group with a Deaf person in it that doesn’t really apply to you, so you often find yourselves in here.)

Since when were you on such good terms with Loki? asks Makkari with sceptically narrowed eyes.

Since the Stark party at Easter, comes Darcy’s confident reply. We did a science fair project together and now we’re totally friends. And they are very sure Vision has something planned.

I wouldn’t take it too seriously if it’s Loki telling you that, Wanda says dryly. They love to gossip. I don’t know Vision Stark, I’ve barely ever spoken to him. He kinda runs in the opposite way whenever he sees me.

He’s nervous, Darcy tells her knowingly. The guy’s scared of his own shadow, but he’s not too bad once he relaxes a bit. Give him a chance, I think you’d really like him. And also he apparently has neared a state of cardiac arrest several times trying to pluck up the courage to ask you out.

Wanda hums, and chews on her lip thoughtfully.

And you, Y/N, Darcy turns her gaze onto you now, you’ve had nothing going on for months. Have you got your eye on anyone?

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you shake your head no. I’m content where I am now, you say, which isn’t really a lie. Because you are happy. Right?

Darcy only shrugs before turning to Yelena, who is sat next to you while she gazes out of the window, zoned out as she often is whenever talk turns to romance. You nudge her gently with your foot and she turns, blinking out of her daydream. “Hmm? What—?”

“Shhh,” you all remind her instantly, as Ms Harkness’s head snaps up from the paperwork she was just bent over at her desk.

Sorry, Yelena rectifies hastily. What’s up?

Prom, you inform her, biting back a laugh at the way her face comically drops into one that’s very unamused.

I know you and Bishop didn’t work out, but do you have anyone else who might ask you to prom?

You look over at your best friend anxiously. Yelena has not really come out to anyone, only casually mentioning her aromanticism over dinner, to which Melina and Alexi barely batted an eyelid. Darcy does not seem to be picking up on the hints, though.

If anyone asked me, I would say no , Yelena tells her bluntly . I don’t do that stuff. Me and Y/N go together. Right, Y/N?

With matching outfits, you add helpfully.

We are going to serve, Yelena agrees, and the two of you low-five.

You can tell Darcy has more questions, but before she can press either of you any further the bell rings, signalling the end of free period. The four of you get to your feet, piling belongings back into your bags, and Makkari follows your example once she sees what you’re doing.

You end up falling behind at the back of the group, with Wanda next to you. She’s looking at you curiously, as though she’s seeing right through you, and you fidget uncomfortably.

Are you sure you’re happy? she asks you. The question hits you like a punch to the gut. Because you have not seemed it, lately.

You nod and smile weakly at her, and to her credit she pushes no further, but much like Melina’s words it weighs heavy on your mind long after she’s forgotten about it. You are happy, aren’t you? You are. You are happy. You have the girl of your dreams, for fuck’s sake. Of course you’re happy.

And that’s true, for the most part. You’re happy when you’re with her — and when you can switch your brain off around her, instead of pining what more you could have. Because this is all you have. All you’ll ever have. And every day you wake up, fearing that this is the day she’ll end whatever is between you, and cast you aside like the doll she’s done playing with.

But you must not seem that happy to other people, because it’s only a few hours later that you are questioned yet again — this time by Sam Wilson, who it is considerably more difficult to be upset with.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he calls down the hall as he spots you, awkwardly half-running to catch up with you. Last period has just ended, and you’re making your way to the science lab that you know Yelena just had a class in. You smile at him when you recognise him, and slow down until he matches your pace. Since that night he helped you out at the party the two of you have been talking a lot more, and you’ve found yourself really enjoying his company. You’ve never really been too good at making friends — if you didn’t have Yelena, your other half, you don’t know what you’d do — but things seem to come naturally with him. He’s very calming to be around, and he never makes you feel as though you’re supposed to be something that you’re not.

“What’s up, Wilson?” you greet him.

“I gotta bone to pick with you,” he says with half-hearted annoyance, even as he grins at you. You blink up at him in quiet confusion. “How come you stood me up yesterday night? You said you’d meet me out by the east block and you left me hangin’. We were supposed to go to Boulevard, remember?”

You groan and tilt your head back as you realise he’s right. The two of you have recently picked up a habit of hanging out at the arcade on the Boulevard after school for a couple nights a week. (He’s a beast at Donkey Kong, and you will never in your life be able to beat his high score, but you always manage to put up a good fight when you versus in Mortal Kombat.)

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“Are you sure?” he asks jokingly. “Cause you skipped out on the one before that too.”

“I’m really sorry,” you weakly offer. “I just…” Well, what the fuck kind of excuse are you supposed to offer? I’m sorry, my secret girlfriend slash love of my life will only spend time with me in private because she’s ashamed of me? “…I don’t know. I’ve kinda been all over the place lately. Sorry.”

“Yeah, no shit. What’s going on, man, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, and you’re horrified at the moment at that your voice trembles. “No, I’m good. Seriously. Just stressed for finals,” you try tentatively, and you’re relieved at the way he just nods sympathetically.

“Well if you need a distraction, I’m free tonight,” he offers hopefully. You instinctively open your mouth to deny him, but when you see the way he’s poised and ready to accept your inevitable denial you pause guiltily. Why are you saying no and standing him up if he’s your friend? Your alternate itinerary for tonight is sitting around annoying Yelena and hoping that Nat will want to spend time with you tonight. This sounds way more fun.

A distraction. A distraction from the feeling clawing at your insides, which won’t let you sleep at night until you get that goodnight text.

“A distraction sounds good,” you say, and he grins back at you. Only a moment later Yelena’s class comes flooding out of the science lab, and your beloved blonde Russian approaches you. You’re glad to see she’s recovering some of the usual bounce in her step, after last month’s mishap.

“Come on, Natasha is giving us a ride,” she tells you excitedly, offering Sam a brief nod.

“Actually, can you tell her make my own way home? Me and Sam are hitting the Boulevard.”

“Alright. But if you win enough tickets can you get me that stuffed otter they have in the window,” she asks hopefully, and beams when you nod. “You are the best. And don’t forget to call Ma if you won’t be home till late, or —”

“She’ll have a heart attack, I know,” you say patiently. “Love you.”

Natasha probably won’t even notice you’re gone. She won’t mind.

Famous last words.

Sam ends up dropping you home, and the two of you stop by a fast food place on your way, so you’re not home until ten. You stumble into the house with bleary eyes and a bug-eyed, oversized otter tucked under your arm, but a heart fuller than it’s been in a long while, and a smile on your face to match. That smile is quickly wiped off of your face as you turn around and lock eyes with Natasha, who is sat on the top of the stairs. She’s evidently waited up for you.

“Hi. Is Lena still up? I won this for her.” You hold up the otter lamely.

She shrugs, a gesture so small you nearly miss it in the half-light. “I don’t know.” Late at night when she’s tired, tinges of Russian begin to creep back into her otherwise perfectly ironed American accent — she always scowls and makes an effort to fix it whenever you point it out, but to you it’s adorable. It’s like an ever so slight glimpse into the real Natasha, the one who makes you heart-shaped pancakes and remembers the names of all your favourite movies. And in the months that are passing in your relationship you feel like you’re seeing that side to her less and less.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly after a few moments. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah?” you say uncertainly. This feels like a trap. “Y— uh, yeah, I did, thank you.” You swallow, hard, as a pit opens up in your stomach. “Are… are we okay?”

She hesitates. “Are you happy?”

“Huh?”

“With me. When you’re with me. Do you have fun like you did tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is small and quiet. “I— I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She’s silent. Like she doesn’t even know what she wants from you. Cautiously, gingerly, you speak again.

“I had fun tonight in a way that I can’t with you,” you say carefully. “You never want to spend time with me unless we’re alone. I don’t really know what we are, I know we’re not dating, but it feels… I don’t know.” You pause for a second, and your next words sound uncertain of themselves. “It feels like… you’re ashamed of me.”

The words are finally out of your mouth, at long last. For a moment it’s like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, but it comes crashing back town twice as heavy when you see the be way your words physically crush her.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” she whispers. “I’m not… I just…” And then she says something so quiet that even as you strain you can’t catch it. “Um. Don’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And while you do see her in the morning, nothing is the same. So you’re once again the bigger person in this relationship, the one taking care of her (and you’d do it forever, of course), and you give her exactly what you know she needs — some space, and some time. You’re not really sure what’s going through her head right now (you never are, to be honest), but what you do know is that she’d hate to feel smothered as she figures it out for herself. She’s more similar to her sister than she’d like to think. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. You’ll give her what you know she needs, because sometimes you know her better than she knows herself, and trust that when she’s ready she’ll come to you.

But she doesn’t, and things are rocky between you and your love in the time that passes. Since the night you came home from the arcade, she’s been almost avoiding you. No more good morning or goodnight texts, no secret movie dates in her room, no more stargazing on the rooftop or late night drives. With every day that you wake up and meet her vacant gaze at the breakfast table you lose a little more hope. The end is nigh, you fear; the thing you’ve known all along, the fact that you were just a toy to her that she’ll dispose of when she’s bored, comes creeping back from the distant corner of your mind it was banished to, into the forefront — and you see it everywhere you go. In every tight-lipped look and sleepless night you pray for the end of this purgatory, whether that comes in the form of her embrace or her denial; anything but this wretched liminal space. This in-between where you don’t feel human to her.

Prom night rolls around. You and Yelena have indeed coordinated your outfits, just as planned, and the two of you are going together. (A slight and tiny part of you had hoped that maybe, somehow, Natasha would ask you to prom, and she would be your date. A much bigger part of you knew that would be her idea of purgatory.)

The two of you are carpooling with your friend group to the school, where your prom will be, in a limo that you all pitched in for. Darcy and Jane Foster, Makkari and Druig, and Wanda and Vision are all already piled in when the limo rolls up in front of your house — the last stop before the night truly begins.

“Interesting choice of interior decor,” Yelena muses, taking in the limo’s pink velvet seats and rhinestone-studded handles with thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

“Darcy picked it,” says Wanda monotonously.

She said we had to go all out for prom, Makkari adds with an eyeroll. The two of them earn lighthearted smacks from the target of their teasing.

You aren’t really sure what you’re actually meant to do at prom. Even in the movies, they’re never really very specific about what prom actually entails.

“What do you think we’ll do?” you ask Yelena, as the two of you hand in your coats to the concierge (a member of the student council who looks very stressed).

She snorts. “Judge people’s outfits, get drunk, take photos and dance, I’d say. I guess some people will be hooking up, too.”

“We will,” adds Darcy with a shameless wink as she passes the two of you, being dragged along by Jane. Your cheeks flush slightly, while Yelena sighs in affectionate long-suffering.

“Any updates on your super-secret girlfriend?” Yelena asks, and the usual guilty feeling pricks at your gut. She, of course, hasn’t been told of the conflict, because you’ve told her as little as possible. You don’t trust yourself to not break down out of guilt otherwise.

You try your best to be optimistic at first, but Yelena’s very quickly proven right. As soon as everyone’s arrived you tick off your first scheduled item on the prom itinerary — judging them — and you move swiftly onto the second.

“This tastes like shit,” you grimace as you sip gingerly from the drink Yelena presents you with. She bursts out laughing.

Before long, you’re feeling pleasantly fuzzy, and perfectly willing to embarrass yourself in front of your classmates on the dancefloor — so when Sam Wilson comes up to you proposing that you dance, twitchy as anything and evidently nervous out of his mind, it doesn’t feel as significant to you as it does to him that you accept.

He kisses your cheek when the dance ends, and you flush violently. But when he offers you his arm you take it, and he’s led along to a quiet afterparty back at Wanda’s house. It’s okay, you tell yourself, to be having fun with someone else. Natasha’s shown no interest in you for more than a month. It’s not that you don’t love her, because you do, but you can’t exactly force her to spend time with you, can you? It can’t cause any harm to have some fun with your friends.

But only a little down the road a certain redhead has shut herself in her room, and begins to ask herself why she’s behaved the way that she has.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

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blackopals-world · 11 months

Text

I Found Home

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)(Part 6)(Part 7)(Part 8)

Implied relationship

Part 5

Notes: This wasn't supposed to happen yet but I'm working on several chapters at once so this got posted first due to timing. This chapter was meant to go last. (besides I'm not going to pretend that most of you didn't just come here for this guy. I just want to get this over with.)

Malleus

"The Hero"

Grimm wasn't the most social of the kids but he was finally learning how to play with others. From what the child development book says he had a rich imagination and took part in imaginative play with others. He had even shown interest in things like singing and dancing with other kids.

But when art time came Grimm looked upset and yelled at another girl. Yuu had to apologize to the girl and her father. They had an argument which caused Grimm to lose his temper. He wouldn't say what it was about either.

When it was time to go Grimm waited by the car and stared at the crumpled drawing he made in his hands.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Yuu asked helping Grimm into his car seat.

Grimm shook his head.

Yuu nodded and decided to leave it alone.

When they got home Grimm went to his room without much fuss. Even bathtime was quiet without his usual crying.

When it was time for bed Grimm still clutched the paper ball.

"Mama?" He asked for her while he was deep in thought.

"Yeah, sweetie?" Yuu pulled the covers over him.

"Where is our family?" Grimm unfurled the pater to reveal a drawing of her and him in crayon.

Yuu's voice was caught in her throat. She wanted to wait until he was older to explain this.

"We are a family." She said simply.

"But Erinn said that families were big like hers. A mommy, daddy, sister, brother, grandma, and grandpa. But I only have a Mommy." Grimm asked confused. "I told Erinn that I only had Mama and she said that we weren't a real family without that. So I got mad."

Yuu knew she had to control her emotions and try to explain but it was getting hard.

"We are a family. All the family we need. Erinn is lucky and has a big family already and she doesn't understand what other families look like." Yuu said stiffly "I'm sorry if I'm not enough. If I could, I would give you the family you deserve but I'm only one person."

Yuu quickly finished saying goodnight before retreating to her room. Tears of frustration blinded her.

It wasn't her fault.

She wanted a family too.

Ever since she returned to her world and old life she had tried to find her place. Friends and family were happy to see her again but they had moved on after years of her absence. Everything familiar was now strange. Then came the questions about where she was and what happened. She couldn't answer, no one would believe her. They turned on her with suspicion and called out her lies. News media caught wind and police had questions as well. Everyone wanted to know but she had no answers.

Rumors were everywhere and even the people who trusted and wanted to help Yuu had mud slung their way. She did what had to do to protect them and left. She escaped as far as she could to a place where no one knew her. She wrote her books in solitude and kicked out everyone who tried to profit from her newfound fame.

Conspiracy theorists and true crime fans still hounded her but she had a life where she could be in relative peace.

She had a son now and could live a normal life. Wasn't that enough? Can't she live her life?

Yuu cried for herself, for her son, for their future.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait until tomorrow, your Majesty? Yuu may be asleep by now." Silver asked pushing aside the foliage with a ball of light he cased in the other.

"Of course, my child of man has always stayed up late in the night. She is undoubtedly awake." Malleus said proudly leaving Sebek and Silver to clear the way. Trails of Will o'-Wisps marked their path to find their way back.

Lilia flew above the group as he enjoyed the scenery. He seemed even more relaxed these days. Silver and Sebek had finally taken over their roles as captains of the royal guards. Malleus was firmly established himself as the ruling king and let his dear grandmother retire to her castle on the coast. She was certainly enjoying the sun in her scales.

Malleus had been hard at work revitalizing his kingdom. Bringing his kingdom into the current Era took effort but he had reached out to Shroud's heir for his assistance. Now the youth of his kingdom had new jobs to look forward to and new citizens had begun to move into their land. Malleus had also reached out to over classmates and found their help invaluable.

Kingscholar and Viper had been invaluable political partners and expanded trade between their lands. Rosehearts had joined him in laying out new laws compatible with technological developments. Ashengrotto had great knowledge of how to take advantage of natural resources in the area. Schoenheit offered assistance in starting an entertainment business hub like filming to take advantage of the vista.

Malleus had developed strong friendships with each of them but none of them could compare to the one that changed his life. Something they all agreed on.

"This place is so nice. So many stars but you can still see the city lights in the far distance. Are we close to the shore?" Lilia couldn't wait to visit another world and go touring with Yuu. His boys may be reserved to just seeing her but he had plans.

"The terrain is dangerous. It's rocky and likely has many dangerous creatures lurking about. How that human can stand being so much peril is beyond me." Sebek huffed.

Silver shook his head and ignored his co-captain.

As the group journeyed through the forest they noticed a small sound break up the buzzing of cicadas. Small sniffles and whimpers echoed and wrapped around the trees.

Lilia as if sensing a child's distress told the group to be quiet as he tracked down the whining.

Tucked into a hollow at the base of a tree a small boy huddled with a stuffed cat clutched to his body for dear life. The poor child cried for no one but himself.

As the group got closer they lit up wisp light around the area. The soft light alerted the boy as he drew closer.

"Hey, there. What are you doing out here so late?" Lilia crouched down to the boy's level to not scare him. "You should be at home."

The boy shook his head.

"You're parents are probably looking for you." Silver said.

"I can't. I'm bad." The boy rubbed his red puffy eyes.

"You're bad?" Malleus asked holding out his hand to Silver who immediately grabbed Sebek and grabbed a handkerchief from the half-fae's pocket. He then gave it to his king.

Lilia took the handkerchief and held it up to the boy's nose and told him to blow his nose. (Crying gets very messy with kids his age and makes it hard for them to breathe with clogged sinuses. Not mention kids have a hard time blowing their nose on their own at a young age.)

The boy wrinkled his face as Lilia cleaned his stuffy nose with practiced ease. The boy tried to weakly fend him off the same way any child does when you try to clean a smudge off their cheek with your thumb. Once he was freed and cleaned up he finally responded.

"I'm a bad boy. I made Mama cry. She said cus of me." He said remorseful.

"Why don't you just say sorry then?" Sebek said tactlessly.

Silver elbowed him and the crocodile shrugged with an expression that said 'What do you want me to say! I'm right!"

"Because I always make Mama cry. Mama is always sad. So I'm going back so I can't make her sad again." He said defiantly.

He was going to help his mother even if he wasn't going to be with her.

"Where are you going?" Malleus asked kneeling beside Lilia.

The boy looked that Malleus's horns with wonder.

"Mama found me here in these woods. But she told me a story of a dragon that lived far in the woods. The dragon was nice and helped the lost princess so I want to find him and ask him to help Mama." The boy sounded really proud of his plan.

"A quest. What a brave boy you are." Lilia ruffled the boy's hair. The boy tried to dodge but failed.

"Hey, are you the dragon?" The boy asked pointing at Malleus's horns.

"I'm a dragon-fae. The king in fact." Malleus responded.

"And you can help my Mama? With your magic? Can you take her nightmares?" The boy asked pleading.

"I will try to help if you lead us to her." Malleus wanted to see Yuu again but he knew he had to help this child first. Reuniting this family was more important right now than petty wants.

Yuu couldn't sleep. She just needed the check. Maybe she was excessive but she just worried. Almost every night she would cheak on Grimm, just in case. She just need to see he was alive and breathing.

Some times she just had nightmares where he...

The parenting manuals said that this was perfectly normal. Her fears were natural and these impulses were a product of evolution and prevention of S.I.Ds.

Wait is there a cut-off point for S.I.Ds? Could Grimm still get it?

Yuu took a deep breath, she just needed to see him.

Yuu opened the door quietly to find...an empty bed.

"Grimm?" Yuu called out.

She began checking the bathroom in case he needed to go potty...nothing.

She checked the kitchen in case he wanted water...nothing.

The living room, The study, her bedroom, the attic, the garage

Nothing, nothing , nothing, nothing, nothing, NOTHING!

Yuu searched everywhere as she rushed outside and called for him. Soon the hysteria kicked in as she banged on her neighbors' doors. Frantically she gathered people to help her find her son.

The group was no less enthusiastic to help as they treated the boy like a little hero on a quest. Unfortunately, this hero was very tired and needed to be carried by the dragon king. Lilia was desperate to have his turn but the bat was way too energetic right now.

Lilia was secretly praying that Yuu lived with children so he could play with them.

Grimm was fascinated with Malleus. He studied the dragon's horns, eyes and fangs.

"Mama said the dragon was best friends with the lost princess. Is that true?" Grimm asked touching Malleus's sharp ears.

Malleus let the boy explore as he thought of a response.

"I cared deeply for a friend who was far from home. She was my best friend."

"What was she like? I like the princess most." Grimm said cheerfully.

"The princess, I mean she was beautiful like any princess. But she was better. She was kind and selfless. She made friends everywhere she went." As Malleus said this little fingers pulled at his lips to get a better look at his teeth.

"She's so cool. I wish I could meet her."

Malleus quickly handed the child off to Sebek. Sebek received no better treatment as the boy pulled on his ears and cheeks. He has pincer-like fingers and speed.

Lilia laughed. Silver was the same way.

Sebek practically tossed Grimm to Silver to deal with. Sliver was fine with Grimm but Lilia's silent pleading made him hand the boy over.

Almost immediately Grimm was asleep as Lilia rocked the boy to sleep. The group sighed in relief.

"So," Sliver spoke up only for a chorus of 'Shh' to stop him. He was just going to ask about the stuffed cat that looked exactly like Grim. Or the fact that his name was Grimm. Just him? Okay.

But the blissful silence didn't last as sirens and shouting were heard.

"Grimm?! Grimm?!" Voices shouted as groups of people searched for the boy.

Safe to say his mother was looking for him.

The group managed to dodge the cops as the found a familiar young woman still wrapped in her night clothes shouting Grimm's name. Bright searchlights haloed around her.

"Yuu?!" Malleus called out as soon as he saw her.

The woman squinted to see through the lights before she gasped. She quietly scrambled through the foliage. She had trouble due to still being in her house shoes, she couldn't even think of changing when her son was missing.

"Mal?" She called trying to see if she was hallucinating.

"Malleus please, you have to help me. My son, he's gone." Yuu begged her hand clutched over her chest.

Malleus didn't know how to respond at first. No words would help. The only thing to ease her is her child.

Lilia came forward and handed the sleeping boy back into his mother's arms.

Yuu's eyes lit up with unimaginable joy like finally breathing after unending suffocation. She fell to her knees as she held him close to her.

"My baby. My sweet baby." She mumbled pressing kisses to his head as tears of relief flowed down her cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you."

The situation took time to clean up as everyone was alerted that Grimm was found. Everyone sighed in relief and returned home. Except for that crotchety old woman next door. Yuu would expect a strongly worded letter soon.

The reunion wasn't what anyone expected but Yuu was no less grateful to her friends.

When they explained the situation, Yuu's eyes dimmed.

"I see, it's my fault." She sighed.

"He was just trying to help you. He doesn't know any better." Sebek rolled his eyes.

"That's the point. He's a child, he doesn't know any better. It's my responsibility not to make him feel responsible for my emotions. He should never see his mother cry. I tried to hid it." Yuu berated herself.

"Yuu, from one parent to another you need to hear this. It's hard, it's always going to be hard, but you're doing great." Lilia said gently pulling Yuu into a hug.

All the stress she had been carrying since she assumed her role as parent bubbles to the surface. All this time she had been carrying the heavy weight of expectations and constantly questioned herself. Everytime she got something wrong she panicked. Every crying fit and scraped knee she blamed on herself. Judging herself based on every parenting manual and blog she read. It all came to the surface.

She felt like she was going to break into pieces.

Suddenly another pair of arms wrapped around her then another and reluctantly another.

This was what she needed. Reassurance.

"Who dares intrude upon my lair." Lilia cackled wrapped in a black blanket.

"I do! Grimm the dragon prince!" Grimm stood proudly over Sebek's(slain in battle, r.i.p) body with a plastic sword in hand.

Grimm had taken to wearing a pair of fake ram horns and pretending to be a dragon recently.

Yuu raised an eyebrow as she drank her tea.

"If you wish to save the princess you must face my minions!" Lilia said waving a hand and sending Silver out to duel with the boy.

"Don't worry! I have my own minions! Go dragon king!Save the princess!" Grimm said sawing his hand this time.

Yuu snorted and held back her laughter as she looked up from her notepad.

Malleus of course assisted as he pretended to battle Lilia.

"Mal are you a king or a minion?" Yuu laughed.

"Are you a princess or are you just wearing a cone hat?" Malleus retorted.

"You've become more sassy with age. Now hurry up and save me." Yuu pouted taking off the pink cone hat.

Malleus picked up Yuu in a princess carry as Grimm cheered.

"My heros~" Yuu giggled as she wrapped her arms around Malleus's neck.

"Where too now my dear princess?"Malleus asked.

"To the study my stead!" She shouted.

Sebet tried to say something before Silver kicked him from their downed position.

"I'm a stead now, am I?" Malleus teased as he carried her off.

Grimm payed no mind. Grandpa Lilia said that they need space. The boy instead leapt onto his uncles who grunted as the air was forced from their lungs.

Upstairs Malleus placed Yuu on her desk chair as she began typing out her new book.

"Finally designed on a name for it?" Malleus asked resting his head on her shoulder.

"Yep, The Lost Prince and the Dragon King"

"Hmm, I like it."

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lnkedmyheart · 7 months

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The reason I dont like the whole take on Dazai's coat being Oda's coat or the blue bolo tie being a memory of Oda (blue eyes) is because i feel like there is already a key aspect of Dazai's outfit inspired by Oda.

First of all, Oda's coat has fuck all to do with Dazai's coat. Its like when my dad looks at a bright pink lipstick and a red lipstick and says they are the same colour.

Secondly Oda does not have blue eyes in the manga so the bolo tie isnt tied to him either.

However, Dazai's clothes are influenced by 2 seperate people in bsd. At 15 and 16 Dazai is in a pure white shirt and a tie and only wears Mori's oversized coat. It doesnt quite fit him right.

However in dark era he wears a 3 piece black suit mirroring Mori's suit minus the scarf, which he also has in beast. The only difference here is that in canon he never wears the coat and in beast he fully wears it.

Post defection however Dazai has a complete switchup of his wardrobe. Yes he includes more tans in his outfit but its a far cry from Oda's short beige jacket. And the tan fits better with the Agency's twilight status. The one key difference post detection however is that all Harukawa's art of Dazai will usually have Dazai in a light coloured striped shirt. Note that the one person who wore a striped shirt the entire time as a changed man was Oda. He wore a dark shirt as a child assassin and started wearing a black shirt with light stripes after he decided to stop killing. Dazai begins to wear almost exclusively light coloured shirts with dark stripes.

Dazai took Oda's advice and left the darkness behind but unlike Oda who was unwilling to take action and leave the darkness behind in any real capacity because he considered himself and Dazai inherently bad people trying to be good (dark with light stripes) Dazai has wholeheartedly embraced the light despite his doubts about his own capacity for doing good. He still has a darkness to him and Oda's personal philosophy is a bad idea for someone as hopeful as Dazai but he has incorporated Oda's influence into himself.

Also I'm pretty sure Harukawa themselves mentioned Asagiri always wanting to give Oda a black shirt with light stripes and Dazai later incorporating that style in his own way. Though dont take my word for it.

(Note that Dazai and Chuuya's outfits also mimic each other quite a bit and the bolo tie Dazai wears ties him to both Chuuya and Kunikida. Certain elements are important but not everything else)

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bambiimutt · 7 months

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hiii!!! Can you do masky as a father figure to edgy emo/scene teens? 👀

Father Figure Masky

Of course I can my love!! I actually haven’t thought of doing something like this so I’ll give it a shot!!

ೃ࿔*:･

Not any tw’s if I missed any please let me know. Just some wholesome Tim! Lots of fluff!

-I feel like he probably finds you in a Library. He doesn’t go often but when he usually spots you. you’re always reading a book or sometimes drawing. He never sees your parents so he assumes you must be old enough to be out on your own.

-he’s typically in there for.. well not really anything. To get away from the noise. From the typical people. He usually sits in a corner, book in hand slightly slouching in his chair, legs crossed over each other. His satchel usually sits beside the squeaky chair, occasionally he pops a pill, swallowing down water and going back to whatever he’s reading.

-you come in one afternoon, grabbing the book you’ve been reading the last couple of weeks and heading towards your spot. But when you arrive you’re met with a few teenagers from you school. “Shit.” You’re quick to turn on your heel before they see you and try to find some other quiet corner to sit in. And when you do someone else just so happens to be sitting there.

-you clear your throat. “Uhm..” Tim looks up from his book, eyebrow cocked. It’s you. “S-sorry. Uhm. Do you mind if I sit here. I won’t bother you or anything.” He’s silent for a moment, his fingers curling at the page before he closes the book. You’re quick to roll your eyes when you don’t get a response “hellooo?” You wave your book in his face before he speaks “g’ahead” he moves up slightly and watches you carefully. He takes note of your funky hair, how it isn’t natural. The piercings on your face and the clothes you wear.

- this is all where it kinda started. You’d start sitting with him whenever you knew he was there, he’d learn why you were always here, how your parents just never treated you the greatest and the only way to escape was to come to the library.

-you finally ask him one day why he takes so many pills, why he needs so much medication. And oddly enough he feels okay to open up to you about those things.

-I think he would feel some sort of comfort. He likes that your different then others. In a way you’re like him, but maybe not so violent. And he tries to keep that part of him away from you. He tries to just be the happy him, but it’s hard when he’s been out all night blacked out stalking innocent individuals.

-he ends up buying you some art supplies. He first took note of your artistic skills from the moment he seen you. He likes the weird things you draw, it almost eases his mind to know he’s not the only one with weird stupid scary thoughts.. though you are more of a edgy teenager.. he’s just not normal.

-your name in his phone is kiddo. He probably sends you stupid fucking memes he finds on the internet that he thinks are so Hilarious but they’re actually so fucking cringy.

-Calling him dad for the first time. Yeah it kinda just slips out and he’s shook. You think he’s angry, uncomfortable but he’s in pure SHOCK. Really? You look at him like that? That’s so… sweet. He cares for you deeply and wants to see you go far. So the fact that you see him like that.. damn you might have just wiggled right into his heart.

-it takes him some time getting used to it but at some point he fully allows you to call him dad. He’ll pick you up from school, he’s always the one to listen to you when it comes to bullies at school, he buys you lunch, makes sure you have school supplies that you need. You call him asking him to pick you up because you don’t wanna be there anymore? He’s on his way.

-“can you take me to the MCR comeback concert?”

“Fuck no.”

-Trust me he’d love to take you to those things but his money goes to his medications and his house, he’d rather have a roof over his head then be surrounding by teenagers crying and screaming. Butttt.. that doesn’t stop him from buying you things that you’re interested in. Band shirts, new hair dye, comics, etc.. he even goes out of his way to make sure you have new things, new phone.. whatever you want. I think he’s taking the dad role straight to the heart.. but it makes him happy.

-if you were ever in a situation to be put up for adoption. He’s 100% willing to adopt you. But if you’re old enough to be moved out, he’s got a bedroom all set up for you.

-he takes his road trips.. and fully takes pride on the fact that he listens to dad rock. He sings horribly to the music while you groan and plug your ears, and searching frantically for your headphones “dad please! Shut up!”

-he does let you play your music majority of the time though, and he actually doesn’t mind any of it. He thinks it’s pretty cool.

-“I bought hair dye..” you look at Tim and sway side to side, hands behind your back. He stares at you from the couch before shutting his eyes and sighing “alright, grab a plastic bag and get to the bathroom.” He always dyes your hair. And he’s always wrapping the damn plastic bag around your head too tight. “Gotta make sure that dye stays in there” and gives you the meanest dad back slap.

-if you ever graduate, he’s in the back of the stadium watching you proudly from afar. And of course he has gifts for you, what kind of father would he be if he hadn’t. Once you’re both in the car he’s got a small box and a large bag ready for you. Some new clothes, items and those damn concert tickets you always talk about.

-he’s a good papa. He’d never judge you for your interests nor what you looked like. He thinks you’re super bad ass and he’s proud to be such an important figure in your life.

#creepypasta #masky x reader #ticci toby #ben drowned #jeff the killer #tim wright #tim wright x reader #masky marble hornets

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