#with that for myself...+ sometimes i almost feel like a duty to? but that's silly. i have one duty when it comes to presentation
Text
Blushes and Daisies
Prologue: 'A Rose Between Thorns'
Aemond Targaryen x OC!Niece!Reader
Summary: Aemond and Aelora chatter idly in the comfort of their hideaway - the hidden beauty of the gardens of the Red Keep among the wildflowers and cherry trees.
Warnings: Sickly sweet childhood sweetheart fluff, I’m talking blushes and giggles - twirling my hair and kicking my feet.
Word Count: 945 (normal chapters will be much longer don’t worry)
A/N: Hi lovelies! If you have any ideas/notes feel free to comment! There are a few changes to canon: The ages are adjusted slightly for the children (Aelora = 110 AC, Aemond = 110 AC, Jacaerys = 113 AC, Lucerys = 115 AC, Aegon = 106 AC, Helaena = 109 AC), and the timelines of Rhaenyra’s relationships are slightly altered too.
༻❁༺ 117 AC, THE GARDENS OF THE RED KEEP
“Aemond?”
“Yes?”
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be… normal? You know - not a prince or princess, not a Targaryen, not… anything.”
“Not really.” The young prince muses. He turns his head to the side from where he lay on the grass to look at his young niece, “Do you?”
The early morning breeze gently brushes over their cheeks as the two lay among the wildflowers deep within the gardens of the Red Keep, hidden away. The young Velaryon princess sighs softly, her face remains pointing to the sky - blue and clear, yet there’s a hint of grey that threatens to taint its hues.
“Sometimes.” Aelora admits almost silently, the only thing carrying the sound to Aemond’s ears being the warm breeze. “I think about going to Flea Bottom - maybe even Lys or Myr - about living among the people. No silly titles, no duties, no stupid corsets.”
Aemond laughs softly, to which she smiles.
“I think normal women still wear corsets.” He comments, “Just maybe not as tight.”
“Maybe.”
There’s a peaceful quiet that falls between them, a blanket of calm and serene isolation. Here, in their little hideaway, they have their own reprives: the young prince is free from teasing, from expectations, and from disappointment; and the young princess is free from whispers, from duties, from the conflicts of family and court. They share a silent understanding, a silent agreement, to speak only of pleasant things, to ponder only the oddest of dreams and queries, and to never share a word of it. The carvings in the trees, orange peels discarded, plucked flowers - the only testaments to human life this deep in the gardens.
“Mother and Father are already thinking about suitors.” She says after a minute or two of silence.
“How lovely.” Aemond replies, though his teasing tone conveys their shared distaste.
She lets out a breath of a laugh, though the matter is not amusing to either of them, “I just hope he won't be cruel.”
Once more, Aemond turns his head to look at her, the blades of grass tickling his freckled cheek, “If he is, I’ll see to him myself.”
“Oh, truly? I’m sure any grown lord will be scared of the a little prince like you.” She giggles, her warm brown eyes glistening in the beam of sunlight that floods through the trees above.
Aemond, who was being deadly serious, blushes a little, facing the sky once again, “They will be once I’ve trained more, once I’ve grown.”
Upon realising his seriousness, the princess maintains her smile, but it grows more appreciative than amused, “Well, I’m sure you will be the bestest swordsman in the world, and the bestest prince.” She smiles, brushing some of her hair from her face.
His blush deepens and he smiles, “Thank you.”
The silence returns.
“How is your training going?” Asks Aelora, “Ser Criston is always nice about you.”
“Well - I think so, at least.” Aemond replies, pulling at the grass absentmindedly, “Aegon is still mean though, and your brothers.”
She sighs softly, understandingly, “I can speak with them if you like - my brothers? But not Aegon…” she giggles airily.
Aemond smiles, though it’s sad, “Yeah, I’m not sure he’d be too easy to talk to about it.”
Noting his sad tone, Aelora shuffles a little closer in an attempt at comfort, the two of them laid side by side, eyes looking to the sky.
“I don’t know why my brothers are so mean.” She muses, “I promise they aren’t like that, they’re just… stupid sometimes.”
Aemond sighs, “I know… It’s Aegon mostly. But it’s fine, I’m manag-”
“No,” She cuts him off softly but firmly, turning to look at him, “it’s not fine; it’s not fair, Aem.”
“It’s okay,” He takes a breath, “we all have to go through something I suppose.”
Aelora thinks. She sighs and nods faintly, “I suppose.” She muses in agreement, “Doesn’t make it fair.”
Another silence. A bird sings from a tree above before taking flight, joining another mid ascension, flying off towards one of the many turrets together.
“Is your mother still being odd?” He asks, looking up and between the leaves of the trees and cherry blossoms above them - that hide them away.
“Yes… though I’m still not sure why.” Aelora frowns softly as she speaks, “One minute she’ll be fine, and then the next... she acts like I'm not even there.” She tries to explain for the umpteenth time, the dull ache in her chest forming as she ponders over her mother’s continued behaviour towards her. “It hurts.” She admits, a tinge of pain in her tone.
Noticing this, Aemond offers her a small, sympathetic smile, “I’m sure it’s nothing. She has no reason to have anything against you. You’re wonderful.”
Aelora blushes, “Thank you, Aem.”
Aemond pulls at the grass slightly, accidentally plucking a daisy. He looks at it for a moment. He turns and, in a moment of courage, gently tucks it behind her ear, within her soft brown curls. She finally turns to look at him, smiling.
“Here,” she, too, plucks a daisy, mimicking his actions and tucking one behind his own ear and within his own white curls, “now we match.”
With both having daisies in their hair, deep pink blushes, and twinkling eyes, they did indeed match - their souls mirrors of one and other as they always had been, and always would be, as they inwardly hoped, unaware of the turmoil to unfold, the blood to be wasted, lives to be changed. For now, all they had were their daisies, blushes, and whispered words. ༻❁༺
#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x you#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell#asoiaf#asoiaf fanfic
191 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little reward
Iceman x Reader
He works hard, so he deserves a little reward. You just want your husband to know he's appreciated every single day.
A lil something for @ladylanera in this fic 😘
♡♡♡
A lot of people rely on Ice for a lot of things. In the Navy and outside of it too. He works hard and receives a lot of respect. Keeping Maverick where he is needed is just one of his jobs, and he has to make a lot of calls for him sometimes.
Ice was always doing something.
Naturally, you want do something good for your hardworking husband. He deserves time for himself. No phone calls, no paperwork, no organising anything. No Maverick for a while.
You knock on the door to his office. There is a slight pause before you hear his voice. Pushing the door open, you enter.
Tom is typing something up on his computer. He has his back to you as you enter the room. Sighing softly, you make your way over to him.
You come to a stop beside his chair and hope that he will look up at you. He does not. He types away, seemingly tense with whatever it is he is responding to. Hating seeing your husband so worked up, you place the treat you brought to him on his desk and place your hands on his shoulders. He eases up almost immediately.
"Finish that email and then turn your computer off."
Tom's fingers hover over the keyboard.
"I can't," he whispers.
You dig your fingers into his shoulders and squeeze slightly. You lean down a little and press a kiss to the top of his head.
"Please."
Tom closes his eyes as he leans his back, eager for the feel of you. He wished he didn't have so much to do. He wants to spend his time with you, but duty calls. It calls far too often these days.
"Can't I have my husband for myself for an hour at least?"
Ice sighs.
He could spare an hour. Surely.
His fingers continue their typing and you watch as he sends the email. With the click of a button he shuts his monitor off and then turns his chair. He halts when he sees what you left on the desk.
"Strawberries?"
You smile and look at the little dish of strawberries you brought him.
"You do still like them, don't you?"
Tom smiles.
"Yes."
He reaches out and takes one from the top. You chuckle as you watch him bite into it and eat it. He smiles up at you.
"Lovely."
You chuckle and reach for his hand. Tom stands from his chair and let's you guide him, bringing the rest of the strawberries with him in his free hand.
You take him to the bedroom. Tom looks at the bed and then at you.
"We're a bit old for fooling around, don't you think?" He says, smiling at you.
You laugh.
"Don't be silly! I want to cuddle with you. You deserve a break and some relaxation. Come on," you let go of his hand to climb onto the bed.
Tom watches you get comfortable and chuckles softly. Placing the strawberries on the table on his side, he gets onto the bed with you and lies back. You shuffle closer and he lifts his arm, letting you get cosy. You rest your head on his chest and wrap your arm around him. His head rests lightly against yours as you both get comfortable.
"You work so hard and don't take much time for yourself."
He remains quiet.
"I miss my husband sometimes."
Tom closes his eyes as he gives you a gentle squeeze. He misses you too, but when duty calls he has to answer.
"I know," he whispers.
You look up at him and see the expression on his face. Softly, you press your lips to his cheek and he opens his eyes, gazing at you with so much love and adoration.
"It's nice to just have a moment to sit back and relax. To cuddle and just hold one another," you remind him.
Back in the early days of your relationship, there was a lot of cuddling and kissing. Tom often had an arm around you wherever you both went. A reassurance that you were there and you were his.
"I miss it," he whispers.
"Then let's make sure it never stops," you tell him. He nods his head softly. "Now, do you want to take a break and rest quietly, or shall I read to you?"
Ice smiles.
"Read to me, darling."
You smile softly as you reach for the book on his nightstand. You get into a comfortable reading position where you're still close to him and still touching him. Tom closes his eyes as be listens to your voice.
He had almost forgotten what it was like to rest and take it easy.
But it's okay. He has you to remind him. Tom Kazansky would be lost without you.
282 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tagged by: @sindar-princeling
Are you named for anyone? Nope, not really. I have a name I might switch to irl, which is my name here, Lif. So really I just named myself after the human woman who survived Ragnarok by sleeping through it.
When was the last time you cried? Last night at midnight. I had to hold in my sobs so hard, and it was literally just over a character death. It really hits me.
Do you have kids? Does a very needy kitty boy count? I'm on mom duty with him for hours every day, and I lost sleep in high school doing all the mom stuff: feeding him, burping him, giving him medicine, giving him baths, reading to him so he could sleep okay, singing him to sleep (these were all vet recommended, and they helped his temperament a lot [he's mentally ill]). I do want kids someday. Almost had one in 2020. I still think about her, especially as May is coming up, and she was supposed to be born then. I don't bring this up to make anyone sad, or feel pity. It's just, part of my life, you know?
What sports do/have you played? Archery!! I haven't been able to do it since an injury in 2013 (yes, I realize this happened forever ago at this point), but it was fun. I should maybe try getting back into it. The lanes are expensive though, and I would need a lot of good places to sit down in between shooting.
Do you use sarcasm? That I do.
What's the first thing you notice about people? Same as sindar-princeling, I think. Probably the facial expressions. Next I look for something to compliment them on.
What's your eye colour? Really dark brown.
Scary movies or Happy endings? I feel like these are not opposite ends of a spectrum or anything. I want to say happy endings, but my favorite Star Wars movies are the tragedies: Revenge of the Sith, Rogue One, The Siege of Mandalore.
Any talents? Oh heck yes! I can play the clarinet, sing, compose, act, write, cat photography (trust me, it is a talent and a skill), edit pictures, and bake (I'm better than average at decorating though, but still kinda suck at it).
Where were you born? New England, USA.
What are your hobbies? Right now it's mostly reading, watching TV and movies, listening to music, playing video games, and writing.
Do you have any pets? I have 2! A maine coon girl named Alley Cat who will be turning 17 this Saturday! She's so silly, and a sweetie, and just full of love. Sometimes she annoys me because she thinks I'm her littermate (we were kids at the same time). She also still snurgles (suckling while kneading at the same time)!! And she loves food. She’s just so stunning and adorable. And then there's Loki! That's my baby boy. He picked me to be his mommy when I was 15. I've been there for him through almost everything (sadly couldn't be there for a scary hospitalization when I was in college a few states over). He's silly, he's lovable and loves giving love, he loves kissies, he likes to be brushed, he loves making biscuits. He loves playtime, and he loves getting into trouble. I have the best kitties.
How tall are you? 5'4 (I still want to cry about somehow growing an inch in my early twenties)
Favourite subject in school? PHYSICS AND BAND!!!
Dream job? I really don't know anymore. I wanted to be a professional clarinet player, but that couldn't happen, I wanted to be an actor, but that wasn't able to happen, I wanted to be an editor: again, nope. Screenwriter? Maybe? Author? I don't know anymore.
And here are my kitties!
Alley is on the left, and Loki is on the right. I forgot to mention that he’s an American Ringtail.
Tagging: @miss-mouse99, @feeling-uncomfy, @evilwriter37, @cascigarette, @knowerofuselessfacts, @err404r, @poisonedyouth, and @vanillachip101.
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
writing Wednesday!!! best day of the week!
My prompt, if it suits you: During the first uprising the circle won and took over rule of shadowhunter society. Fast forward about 2 decades and reluctant circle soldier Alec gets thoroughly seduced to join the downworlder resistance by Magnus 💜🖤💜🖤
It’s so sweet that you think it’s the best day! But it’s also the best day of my week where I get amazing prompts like this one.
Uh okay so this is super dddne (not malec) okay? Canon typical implications of: torture/genocide/war/incest/obsession/brainwashing/homophobia
suicide mention/ideation and graphic mention of self harm to the degree that it could be considered a suicide attempt but is also an attempt at getting free.
Ahahaha… I’m not even sure I can should say ‘I hope you enjoy’ with this one but I really do hope so. Also this was a super complex (and enjoyable prompt) because it changes the dynamic of the entire shadowworld.
This is not morgernstern friendly btw
—
Alec sits as still as possible but with his muscles loose and his spine straight but relaxed.
He’s in a predator's den and even if his mother were here with him, he would still be on his own.
“So, Alec—“ and Valentine smiles at him, lips curled in an utterly charming and fake smile. “You’ve impressed your mother and myself, neither of which are easy things to accomplish.”
And Alec, oh he hates where this is going.
Because he’s almost nineteen and his mother gets colder and sharper and more deadly with her disappointment every year. Never once has she complimented him and to hear this, Alec knows it’s nothing good.
“You’ve never once asked to leave Alicante and you’ve never slacked on your training.”
Alec has asked for both of those from his mother, at the same time.
Once.
He learned quickly to never ask anything from anyone ever again.
“It’s my duty.” Alec recites as he twirls his noodles and he hates how good the meal is. “You wish for me to be here, so here I’ll stay. Every nephilim requires training, it is our honor to fulfill it, and a blessing to do so in the divinity of our homeland.”
Alec has practiced small phrases here and there on his own parents, he knows almost everything that is safe to say around Valentine.
Valentine's grin grows a little brighter, a little more real and Alec swallows another bite of noodles instead of shuddering.
“Well, despite your issues—“ and Alec’s stomach shrivels as Valentine frowns, the reminder that everyone knows Alec doesn’t like girls hanging over Alec’s head like the blade of the soul sword. “Maryse and I feel as though you’ve earned a reward. For all of your loyalty and hard work.”
Valentine is talking like he’s one of Alec’s parents and Alec can’t stop himself from paling because he knows nothing good comes from Valentine’s rewards.
They are traps wrapped in filigree promotions and satin words.
“Your mother has been my most loyal and she and I agree that it’s a pity our family legacies haven’t been joined before. I’ve been very careful with Clarissa and sometimes she does act a little silly, but she’s fifteen now. Sixteen by the time you’re twenty, I think it would be a good fit, for both of you. Our labs will ensure there are no issues with having heirs.”
Alec can understand exactly what Valentine is saying. They want him to marry Clary. To get her pregnant as many times as Valentine asks, to be her protective shadow and her strategist and also the chain around her impulses.
Because Clary is spoiled and doted on and while she’s a spitfire fighting — violent and vicious and slightly deranged — she lacks any of the qualities for leadership that Valentine wants. Because she does what she wants, when she wants and if she doesn’t get her way, it goes poorly.
She’s a mad dog, waiting to be put down and Alec is the prison they want to chain her to.
She is also secretly dating Jace Herondale.
And Jace is the closest thing that Alec has to a friend, even if Alec doesn’t get to actually have friends. And while Jace doesn’t know Alec knows, it’s hard not to with how obnoxiously blatant they are.
Jonathan is smiling too.
But his smile is less fake and more considering, appreciation that Alec doesn’t trust in his gaze.
“I’m honored.” Is the only thing Alec can say even though this is the worst thing to ever happen to him and even by nephilim standards, Alec knows his life has been pretty miserable.
“I thought you would be!” And by the angel, Valentine looks really, honestly thrilled and Alec wants to throw up.
But that would be insulting and he can’t afford to insult Valentine.
No one can.
“You and mother lead us for a reason.” Alec demures. “You’re only looking out for the future of all nephilim. How could I disagree with the betterment of our people?”
Because he can’t. He can’t say no even though the word is dancing on his tongue.
“Well since that’s finished. Then I’ll leave you boys to chat, get to know each other as future family.” Valentine says and he claps his hands together before leaving.
Alec wants nothing more to exhale but there’s still another predator in the room and as shaken as he feels, Alec knows it is only going to get worse.
“I—“ he starts and then stops because he doesn’t know what to say. Just something that will convince Jonathon that Alec’s going to do his level best to never even touch or look at his sister.
“Oh Alec.” And Jonathon is laughing and it’s a charming and real sound, which makes it more distressing.
Jonathon is always the most dangerous when he’s being honest.
“I know, don’t worry—“ Jonathon promises and he’s getting up from where he’s been sitting across from Alec and walks around.
Alec swallows and forces himself to let go of his silverware, hands going to his lap.
Jonathon would know if he took the fork.
So he doesn’t, even though he wants to.
“It really is a pity that Robert ended up raising your siblings at his family home, I think you’d have been an amazing older brother.” And Jonathon is watching him with an interest that is normally reserved for his sister.
Alec swallows and turns, keeping his eyes on Jonathon.
“Oh.”
And Jonathon is smiling even softer now and Alec doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. “My father isn’t wrong, you know. It really is a pity our legacies aren’t already tied. Who knows, perhaps you could have been my brother.”
And Alec isn’t even going to try to touch that demon nest with an answer.
“Yeah.” Is all he tries to say and then because Jonathon continues to look at him eagerly he takes the risk and adds, “it would’ve been nice.” And then because Alec slips and he thinks of Izzy, the glimpse of her pudgy toddler face and the one picture he saw in Max’s dossier, he can’t help the soft smile of wistfulness that crosses his face.
And he doesn’t see the way Jonathon notices but he does notice when a hand is on his chin, forcing him to look up at the younger boy.
“My father has goals, Alec. But he doesn’t care how he gets them. He wants a Lightwood in the family and I agreed. He offered your sister for me, but I think you’ll fit into our family much better.” And Alec can’t breathe because Jonathon is too close and he’s being gentle.
Jonathon is never gentle unless it’s something he wants to break slowly.
“It’s amazing how you’ll never have to touch her, but you’ll have so many children. I wonder who they’ll look like the most, Clary, you, or me.”
“Clary doesn’t want kids. Especially not with me.” Alec tries because he knows how much Jonathon cherishes his sister.
How covetous of her he is.
“I know—“ and Jonathon pats his cheek tenderly. “But they’ll have you and they’ll have me. I’ll step up where Clary can’t, hmm? Keep it in the family.”
And Alec realizes as Jonathon’s thumb brushes the corner of his mouth that Valentine's heir isn’t just talking about helping raise his hypothetical nieces and nephews. He’s talking about having Alec, in the way Alec will never let Clary.
And Alec smiles and lowers his eyes in the way that prey is supposed to and internally, the small secret part of himself that he keeps tucked away unlocks.
—
Magnus finds him by chance.
He’s in Portugal chasing a lead on a poisonous ward array when an old woman taps his shins with her cane.
Magnus follows her into her shop and exits with a lighter pocket, the array sent to Ragnor and a piece of information burned into his mind.
Young. Lots of tattoos. Lives on the water. Smell off.
Magnus has the scent and for once, he is the hunter.
—
Alec swallows and tries very hard not to be disappointed in himself.
He’s learned a lot in the eight months that he’s managed to live as a mundane. And he knows he’s doing it poorly, but he’s still alive and he’s mostly free so he figured that was enough.
He was wrong.
So very wrong and as the warlock comes closer to him — the magic bringing him lighter but stronger than anything Alec’s tied up with before — Alec resigns himself to either a brutal death or being tortured for information.
And Alec finds that both options are still more preferable than being tangled with both of Valentine’s kids.
“Now what’s a shadowhunter doing here, living like a mundane and hiding on a boat.”
“Nephilim.” Alec corrects automatically and he winces, flushing when gold eyes narrow at him — and how can eyes be so beautiful.
“I—“ and Alec hesitates because he’s not sure if he’s about to get himself into more or less trouble. “I never became an official shadowhunter, not really.”
Because Alec has never officially left Idris and has never led a solo or team mission.
And Alec made sure he never would.
Because Valentine puts unblockable tracking runes on his shadowhunters but he doesn’t bother for his nephilim.
Why should he, when they can’t leave Idris alive.
“Is that even possible?”
Alec is asked and he realizes that he’s going to have to explain. Quickly, before his captor grows impatient.
—
Magnus watches as the young —so young but still not as young as so many murdered downworlder children — nephilim shrugs. He looks uncomfortable but not scared or disgusted.
“It’s not supposed to be.” The nephilim mutters and then he raises his hands, slowly, to rub his palms across his face. He smears blood across the edge of his cheek and even ten years ago Magnus would have been tempted to reach out and wipe it off.
But he knows better than to risk it.
“Tell me.”
Is all Magnus says and his captive responds to his order like it’s automatic.
“It doesn’t work on corpses or bodies near death.” Is blurted out and then the nephilim looks both tragically horrified and upset at his admittance.
“Oh? And what crime is so heinous that someone like Valentine would sentence a young, promising soldier to such a fate?”
And Magnus didn’t mean for a compliment to slip in there but, then nephilim is very easy to compliment.
“I did it to myself.” Is spit out and dark eyes are glaring at him mulishly, as if Magnus is going to judge a nephilim for wanting to escape Valentine so badly. “Valentine wouldn’t have wasted a still breathing body by letting it pass the wards.”
Magnus is delighted.
“Couldn't handle the megalomania? The torrid speeches? I know it wasn’t because of a love for the downworld.” Magnus hopes the nephilim isn’t stupid enough to try the last one. Magnus would burn his lying tongue in his mouth, no matter how pretty it is.
“Couldn’t handle marrying Valentine’s daughter—“ is confessed and there is a dark spark to Magnus’ nephilim. One that says he’s serious and Magnus finds it intriguing.
“I’m going to keep you for a bit.” Magnus says, casually pulling the nephilim closer with magic. “And then we’ll find out if you get to live, hmm?”
—
Alexander, or Alec as he introduced himself, sits like he’s afraid to take up room but afraid to look afraid. He gives Magnus all of his attention and tries hard not to look at anything else, like he’s not supposed to.
And he stays polite if not terse and he agrees to everything asked until Magnus summons a needle, because he requires blood. And then Alec is like a trembling statue, the kind you might see before an earthquake shatters it.
Magnus had thought the syringe would be easier, but it appears not.
“I need your blood.” He reminds his prisoner, losing his patience because he’s already being nicer than he should be as it is.
“Can’t you just use your magic?” Is blurted out and Magnus freezes, his fingers tightening in disbelief around the needle.
“You want me to use magic, would in fact prefer it to this?” Magnus asks and he raises a hand with the syringe and one with magic and Alexander flinches.
From the syringe and towards the magic.
“Anything is better than that.” Is spat out with true fear and vitriol and the second Magnus vanishes the syringe, Alec relaxes. He’s wary in a way that’s new and Magnus realizes that despite considering him a threat, this is the first time Alexander has shown actual fear of Magnus.
Magnus finds that shockingly, he doesn’t enjoy it.
Normally, he would revel in it.
He holds out his fingers, wreathed in angry red flames and Alexander offers his hand, not even flinching even though Magnus knows his magic burns when it’s this agitated.
“Thank you.”
Is whispered when Magnus is finished and leaving the room and Magnus pretends he’s hearing things.
He’s dehydrated, he reminds himself.
He needs a drink, he thinks as he summons a glass.
Half a bottle later Magnus finds himself watching Alexander stand at the balcony and marvel at the city below and he can finally admit it.
He wants Alexander.
Desperately.
Magnus lets himself wallow a full hour before he decides he really doesn’t care if Alexander is a nephilim.
Magnus has slept with his fair share of enemies. Has killed and had others try to kill him during sex and Alexander is hardly as bad as all that.
He is nephilim, but why shouldn’t Magnus gain something from this war. If the Council of Elders dislikes the trophy Magnus is going to take for himself, then they can fight without his power.
Magnus will take his people and his nephilim and keep them safe somewhere else.
He can even take them to another dimension and tie the wards to Alexander’s blood, ensuring no other nephilim can ever pass.
But while Magnus is willing to take a risk, he’s not willing to take a leap of faith and so he’s either going to keep Alexander or make sure he never sees him again unless it’s to kill him.
He walks to the balcony and startles for a moment, magic flaring before he realizes Alexander is the dark puddle curled up with a blanket on Magnus' sofa.
Magnus pretends he knew where Alexander was all along.
“So darling,” and the endearment slips out before he can help it and Alexander blinks up at him in wary surprise, but no protest.
“You have three choices before you. One, I can bind your nephilim blood, your Sight and your memories and throw you to the mundane world and let them deal with taking care of you. I can let you run back to your little boat with a geas on your tongue that will never let you speak of anything you learn and alert me if you encounter others with angel blood.”
Alexander is watching him with hope and desperation and Magnus wants to see what he looks like for the last offer.
“Or, you can be mine. Take all that loyalty that Valentine tried to beat and bribe into you and surrender it to me. Because unlike Valentine, I don’t break what belongs to me and I don't let it go.”
—
“Yes.” Alec says because he knows exactly which option he wants. He’s only made it to nineteen so far because he tried to live like a mundane and keep his head down but he doesn’t enjoy it.
It’s a better life than what he had, but it’s not the kind of life Alec wants. Not after the risks he took, not after he almost succeeded in killing himself just to have a better future.
And Alec doesn’t want to forget himself or how hard he fought to survive.
How for a time, he won.
And Magnus is… Alec can guess what Magnus is implying and he can be good, he’s been trained to be good, to obey.
But most of all, he wants to stay near Magnus. Who gives him options and doesn’t force Alec to do something because he is afraid of it.
“Yes—“ and Magnus trails off leadingly.
“Yes, sir.” He adds, because it doesn’t feel like torture to call Magnus that, even if the word still tastes wrong on his tongue.
And twin moons are blinking at him and then there is a dark, reassuring chuckle.
“I was asking what part of my offer the yes was to, but I suppose that answers that.”
And Magnus leans down and magic surges through Alec’s body and Magnus is kissing him.
Magnus tastes like how Alec imagines magic does.
Tingly and powerful and too wild to ever chain and Alec sobs brokenly into the kiss.
Because Magnus tastes like the future.
Alec’s future.
—
It’s been two weeks since Magnus claimed the spoils of a war he didn’t start but he’s certainly trying to finish.
He’s limited himself to a very few excursions with Alexander, mostly mundane and with a very firm hand on the small of Alexander's back.
And a tethering charm.
And several tracking amulets.
And an earring containing a shard of hellfire hidden under Alexander’s soft curls, in the cartilage of his left ear.
And it’s been going splendidly, until today. When Alexander pressed closer than usual and pressed his lips to Magnus' ear and mouths, “shadowhunters.”
And Magnus knows it’s a warning and not a threat but he pulls Alexander in even closer and loops magic around Alec’s waist to keep him near.
“Where?” He whisper-breathes back and Alec is nodding to the side when his gaze catches somewhere in the middle of the crowd of mundanes approaching them.
“Jonathon.” Alexander whispers and he is shocked and pale as he says it, horrified even. And Magnus concludes that this Jonathon is not someone he needs to worry about Alexander missing.
And then Alec is ducking around and behind Magnus, making himself as small as possible without forcing Magnus to turn his back.
“A friend?” Magnus asks, his magic only staying in place because Alexander came closer to him instead of closer to this, Jonathon.
“Valentine’s son.”
“Ah, your would-be-brother-in-law.” Magnus says with some disdain and eyeing the shadowhunter with more intense scrutiny. He wonders if he can manage to take out the boy without hurting the mundanes and exposing the shadowworld.
“He wanted a uh, little more than that.” Is muttered against his neck and Magnus’ magic swells and thrashes as anger bubbles in him.
“He’s really talented. The best of the best.” But Alexander doesn’t sound like it’s meant as a compliment, “and he really loves his sister.” There is a wealth of unspoken information there in the emphasis, “he implied that he suggested me as Clary’s future husband to his father. Mostly because he knew I wouldn’t fuck her. He promised he’d help me get her pregnant without me touching her and he was very uh, touchy himself.
“Oh?” Magnus asks, voice cool and even despite the stuttering of anger in his veins.
“He’d never touched me outside of sparring or lessons before that.” Alexander tucks his head closer to Magnus’ shoulder like it can hide him, “he basically said that Valentine doesn’t care which of his kids fucks me as long as he gets Lightwood genes out of it one way or another.”
“And his sister?”
“She stopped me when I was leaving and told me she was ‘glad I and Jonathon were getting along so well’.”
Magnus feels very much like the calm before an avalanche.
The slightest bit more pressure and everything will break but he still asks, keeping his voice soothing to not spook Alec.
“And did you consider it?” Magnus asks because he has always loved tempting fate and his own temper.
“Magnus, the night I ran I climbed the tallest tree I could find at the brink of the ward lines. I set myself up on the highest branch that held my weight and I stabbed myself in the heart with one of my own arrows. So that when I fell from blood loss and shock and pain, I’d still fall over the barrier.
“I had the arrow tied to the tree so it would come out and I activated a bunch of runes first. And when I woke up, I had to lay there in agony and alone and quiet at the boundary of Idris until my body decided if it was going to give up and die or struggle to continue. I ran that night and picked that method because Jonathon came to me that morning.
“He promised me that my wedding night would be a ‘memorable one’ and he called me his brother and told me he was looking forward to having a new sibling.”
Magnus blinks as he remembers what Alec had said earlier,“because Valentine wanted you to wrangle his daughter and didn’t care if his son fucked out as long as you also sired a lot of babies for his future armies.”
Alexander nods, miserable and exhausted as he closes his eyes and trusts Magnus to protect him.
“Then I’ll just have to keep you far away from him.” Which is a fortunate timing for their conclusion to reach, as Magnus knows his eyes have finally been spotted.
While he has a mundane-proof glamour on, Magnus never hides his warlock mark anymore.
Let them see him.
Let them fear him.
Let them attack him.
He will incinerate all that try.
However, Magnus is currently in a small mundane town and Magnus will not risk Alexander being snatched away from him.
“They’re coming.” He whispers, lips brushing Alexander’s ear and Magnus sees the exact moment Jonathon Morgernstern recognizes who is in his arms.
The vindictive glee of having found a warlock to hunt turns to shock and then feral rage.
“Alec!”
Is shouted across the court and only a few in the crowds of mundanes twitch, downworlders who can’t afford to be as open as Magnus is.
Alexander simply keeps his eyes closed and his cheek to Magnus’ chest.
“Give him back, warlock!” Jonathon is saying, blade drawn and Magnus can see shadowhunters gathering to his call.
“Who would I give him back to?” Magnus queries in mock confusion, “he already belongs to me.”
Valentine's heir spits at the ground and then gives a vicious curse before demanding, “Alec come here.“
And it’s an order and Alexander looks across, at the life and people he left behind and Magnus tightens his hold but Alexander leans back instead of forward.
“Why?” Alexander asks and his confusion is as beautiful as it is fake, “I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” And he tilts his face up, lips parting like petals beckoning for a taste of the sun and Magnus kisses him.
Magnus kisses him and lets his magic visibly dance on Alexander’s body for several dangerously blissful seconds.
And then there is the scream of an enraged animal who has had its prey stolen and Magnus laughs, throwing his head back as he opens a portal behind himself.
“He’ll never be yours, he’ll never be anyone’s but mine.” Magnus promises with a vicious, victorious smirk as he tips them back, letting space and magic absorb them and take them away, Alexander exactly where he belongs.
And later, in Magnus’ lair and behind his wards, Alexander will frown and say “I think maybe I should have said something else. What if he thinks you bewitched me? I’d rather be a traitor than have them trying to ‘save’ me.”
And Magnus will kiss him and hold him down with magic so that his hands can cup Alexander’s face.
“It wouldn’t have mattered, it doesn’t matter, I have you.” He will promise.
Because Magnus recognizes the look Jonathon gave Alec and it’s not one that will let Alexander go, not without a bloody fight.
Which is fine.
Magnus will enjoy making Valentine’s heir bleed.
#shadowhunters#magnus bane#malec#alec lightwood#immortal husbands#writing wednesdays#writing wednesday#lumine writes#my fics#my fanfics#my ficlets
64 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something just like this : Matt Murdock x reader
inspired by Coldplays's "something just like this"
"She said "where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk?
„Matty?”
„Go back to bed.”
“I can’t .“
I was standing in the middle of the kitchen floor, dressed only in shorts and some old T-shirt, rubbing my eyes, sore from the hours spend in front of the computer. The clock was showing the hour I haven’t seen in a while and the dim light was not helping my coordination when I took a step and almost tripped over my own feet.
“You clearly need rest” Matt was quick to catch me before I met the floor, his hands gripping me tightly to him, making sure I was safe.
“What about you?” I asked running a hand through his soft, black hair.
“What about me?”
“You talk like you don’t need a proper sleep. Not just a nap.” I muttered looking at his bruised face “even devil needs a break sometimes.”
I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts.
“It’s different” he pulled away and I shivered from the cold that came for me in the absence of his body next to mine. “I am different.”
“No, you’re not. Don’t walk away from me, Matty. Please.”
“Go back to bed.”
“And what if I won’t?”
He was now standing in front of a window, half of his face illuminated by the neon lights from the bar across the street. The reddish aura did nothing to hide his scars and puffiness and once again, just a simple thought of his night activities were a kick in the teeth for me. And the worst part. His martyrdom. He put himself on the cross, not really wanting to come back down. Not for Foggy, not for Karen, not even for me. I never wanted to take away that part of him, I knew what I was into when we started dating, but still. He shouldn’t have to handle things all by himself. He shouldn’t have to be up every night, listening to all the sounds on the streets, focusing on everyone who needed his help. Exactly like he was doing now, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.
“Matt.” I took a step forward, just to see if he was going to run away from me again. He didn’t so a few more and I was hugging him tightly from behind, feeling his tensed muscle and stress and sense of duty. “Please” I kissed his shoulder lightly.
“Go back to bed.” God, he was so implacable. However, a slight lean into my touch gave him away.
“No” I pressed myself closer to his back “I’m not going to leave you like this.”
“I’m not bleeding anymore.”
“What do you mean anymore?! Are you hurt?!” I tried to spin him around to I could see him frontally and he turned unwillingly.
“Y/n.....” he sighed deeply realizing he said too much. Such a silly mistake for a lawyer.
Some superhero, some fairytale bliss
“Please, let me take care of you…… You don’t need to be strong all the time. Not around me. I won’t judge you, you know that. I love you…..” my voice was now becoming a bit desperate. “Please, I am here for you.”
“I’m tired, Y/N….” his body following the words as he slouched, turning from the devil into a wiped out man.
“I know Matty. I know. But you can rest now.”
“I don’t feel like I can. “
“Then focus on me, ok? Let me help you forget about the pain.”
just something I can turn to somebody I can kiss,
“Ok…..” he closed his eyes, hiding all the pain and fears inside as I let him to the bedroom forcing him to lay down, tucking him in and laying right next to this childish person I loved. It’s been a while since he was this close to me and all of a sudden I realized how I missed this. Our little, brief moments of peace and serenity. So rare, almost non-happening. It made me wonder whether I made him come to bed for his sake of out of pure selfishness, but I shook it off. It wasn’t about me, but him. He was the one to always protect me (sometimes much to my displeasure given the methods used), comfort me and hold me when I was down. It was my turn to return a favor. We both needed this. I needed to remind him he didn’t have to hide from me or act stronger than he really was.
“Y/n…..” he whispered sleepily
“Yes, Matty?” I started finger-combing his hear in a reassuring matter, humming slightly under my nose.
“Can you just hug me like this?”
“I wouldn’t dare not to” I grinned “come here, baby” he was more than willing to rest his head on my chest, his arms circling around my waist, holding me desperately.
“Thank you….”
“Anytime, Matt. I mean it, anytime. Don’t run from me….”
“I don’t want to put you in danger……..”
“Matty” I put a hand on his cheek forcing him to look up at me “you’re not putting me in any danger, you hear me. I chose this. I chose to be with you. You and me against the world. Even if at the end of the day I’m just the one to give comfort. I can’t go out with you on the streets, but I can make sure you got your safe space here.”
“What if….” He tried to get up but I forced him down.
“Stop it. Stop thinking for a while, all right?” I started to caress his side, mindful of all the fresh scars and injuries I patched up the night before, and two nights ago. “Breathe with me. Everything is good. You’re safe. I’m safe. It’s all good.” I tried my best to make my voice soothing and it seemed to work as he nodded, hiding his face in the crook of my neck.
“I love you……” he muttered, his breath tickling. “What was that song?”
“What song?”
“The one you hummed a minute ago.”
oh, I want something just like this.
“Oh…. That one. It’s just little something that reminds me of you every time you are away. Something about how I don’t need superhero, but someone to hold and have for myself. Something just like this. Like now.”
“Is that enough?”
“Always.” I kissed the top of his head “Now sleep. Even the devil needs a break sometimes.”
“How did that devil end up in a relationship with an angel?”
“The angel saw something more to him…” I smiled and upon my words he shifted himself closer
“you are so warm and soft…..” he chuntered and a second later I heard his light snoring, feeling myself drift off as well. Calmer than before, just because he was by my side.
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock#matt murdock imagine#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x you#matthew murdock#daredevil#daredevil x reader#daredevil x y/n#daredevil netflix#daredevil x you#mcu imagine#mcu#marvel imagines#marvel
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
Josuke post grad
I was inspired by @/yossarianirl (not fully tagging for the sake of notifications) posting their josuke head canons i feel like posting about my ideas especially for the nijimura au.
First off, homie definitely has adhd. School was rough for him especially with constant stand drama and trips to the hospital. A lot of people, myself included, always like to imagine josuke in the medical field, but don't really realize the grades you have to have to get into med school are lowkey insane. You gotta be at the top of your class; advanced placement classes no less. Josuke would no doubt really struggle getting those grades. Especially given the Japanese education system being notoriously cut throat.
But josuke feels like its his duty to help people and goes to med school regardless through the speedwagon foundation. They do offer him a lot of accomodations and even hook him up with tutoring and extended time to turn in work. (The spwf is disability friendly because i say so.) And after ungodly hours spent studying all those silly medical terms and such, hes able to pass and INSTANTLY goes into being a paramedic. One of the worst mistakes of his life.
My heart goes out to anyone in this position because of what you have to deal with. Josuke had thought "i can just save them with crazy diamond!" And learned his lesson way too fast. Sometimes the paramedics arrive too late, and crazy diamond can't help with strokes, heart attacks or overdoses. Theres some emergencies... You just cant help with. Mortality is an unfortunate part of being a living being. And life is incredibly fragile. The position lasts at best 1 year before josuke has an incredibly horrible week full of death. The mental toll and survivors guilt is far too much. Even with counselling hes met his limit. The dreams and nightmares are too much to bare so he has to quit. Since he didnt want his suffering through med school to go to waste he decides to become a physical therapist.
With all this said, it's no mystery that josukes a mess of an adult. Tomoko cooked almost all his meals and he has little to no adult skills other than laundry. After moving out post grad he lived off instant meals having no idea how to cook. He completely lost his appetite because of soggy freezer meals and fake food. Doubled with amounting credit card debt from retail therapy and shopping to relieve stress, to the point when hyakuko meets her fkmt fixation keicho cant help but feel kaiji seems all too familiar, he was not in good shape.
After moving in with the nijimuras however after okuyasus ex wife walked out, things got better. Living alone was not for Josuke, and with the added family members, some things get a lot easier to manage from meals, to laundry, and so on. Yeah, a 6 person family (7 including josuke) is a lot. But... Okuyasus cooking and keicho doing a fair share of the cleaning took a huge burden off him. Josuke being able to help with the kids was a HUGE help amidst okuyasu recovering from insomnia and the plethora of issues keicho lives with. Keicho helps him with paying off credit card debt and honestly, josuke wouldnt have it any other way than to be with that family.
#jjba#jojos bizarre adventure#diamond is unbreakable#jojo no kimyou na bouken#jojo part 4#nijimurarecovery!#josuke higashikata
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Water Fights with the OM Bros
it’s 90 degrees outside at my place and you know what that means!!! water fight headcanons because I refuse to go outside in the heat in real life asdhgskjdgks
once again i’m only doing the brothers bc i do not trust myself with the dateables just yet lmao
Lucifer:
Literally only agrees to join because you’re so excited about it.
“...If it makes you happy, MC,” are his exact words. Simp.
You did agree to make the game have no points though, to keep things from getting competitive. Both at the advice of Lucifer and because you knew he would not join if there was any chance he could lose. (Also because Satan is a menace but we’ll get to that later.)
When all the brothers are gathered he suggests everyone pairs up into teams.
“You’re only saying that so you can cozy with M-” Asmo tries to say before being sprayed in the face with water.
“My hair!” “Oh, look at that. I suppose the game has started,” Lucifer hides his water gun behind his legs, but he can’t hide the shit eating grin on his face.
He takes your hand with a “Come along, MC,” and leads you away as everyone splits up.
You two make a surprisingly good team for this sort of thing! He knows the gardens well and also knows where each of his brothers is likely to go. You are quite skilled water water guns and balloons. He’s basically the brains and you’re the brawn.
He snatches a few kisses now and then when you look back at him excitedly after smacking one of his brothers with a balloon. You’re just so cute!
When everyone is all tuckered out and goes off to shower and whatever, Lucifer hangs back with you to thank you for organizing everything. With a kiss to the back of your hand, he says, “I’ll admit, I was...skeptical, at first. But, as usual, you brought my brothers together in a way I haven’t seen in a long while. Thank you, MC.”
Mammon:
“I’m MC’s first man, so I get to team with them!” “You’re also literally my boyfriend, but okay hun.” Cue Mammon blushing beet red at the nickname and muttering at you not to call him that in front of his brothers. (He doesn’t mean it; he loves that they know you’re his and vice versa.)
Strategically, the two of you are the absolute worst. But that’s because you’re both just there to have fun!
And have fun you do! You actually get in quite a few fun chases with Levi! He’s probably the most into the water fight out of everyone, the three of you are just running around the gardens pelting each other with balloons. It’s super cute.
Mammon is absolutely the type to yell “I’ll avenge you, MC!” every single time you get sprayed.
Eventually, you and Mammon follow Levi’s advice and start hiding in places to catch some of the other brothers by surprise. Which would be fine if Mammon didn’t blush super hard and start grumbling because of how close together you were when kneeling behind the garden wall.
You roll your eyes and surge forward to kiss him. He’s so shocked he has no idea what to do with his hands at first. But, after a second of pause, his water gun falls to the ground with a clatter and he wraps his arms around you.
“Get a room,” Is all the two of you hear before Belphie dumps a whole ass bucket of water on your heads. Mammon growls and jumps up to get the youngest before Beel can scoop him up, but you grab his hand and stop him.
You’re laughing super hard, and the sun is shining on your hair. You almost look like you have a halo...Mammon gives up the chase before it even starts because his MC is simply ethereal.
“Mammon!” You smile brilliantly at him when you finally stop laughing. “I kissed you to keep you quiet! And then you managed to make even more noise!”
He just hugs you then so you can’t see his blushing face. Stupid lovely human making fun of him. (He likes it, though.)
Leviathan:
This boy is literally the MOST excited when you tell him your idea. He was in on it from the very start.
He actually helped you get all the supplies! He opens his Akuzon account right away and starts showing you what water guns would be best and picking out huge packs of balloons made specifically for being water grenades. (Definitely had looked all this stuff up before in case he found a LARPing buddy.)
You ask him how much Grimm all this stuff will cost and he tells you not to worry. “I’ll cover it!” “But, Levi-” He interrupts you with big blush on his face.
“L-Listen MC. You’re m-my Henry! And I know this will be fun, s-so...I’ll cover it.” You leap forward and give him a hug, triggering a surprised but equally happy screech.
Honestly he is so excited you proposed an idea like that of your own volition. Like...it just makes him feel like all the games and stuff he finds fun truly don’t bother you. You haven’t been lying; you genuinely are interested in the same things as him. It makes him feel so warm.
When everyone is still arriving, you grab one of your water guns and do that cool spinny thing. You know the thing. The cowboy gun spin. You’re like, “Hey Levi! Check this out!”
BAM. Boy is OUT. So red his face is steaming. That’s the hottest thing he has ever seen in his entire damn life. What the fuck, MC. He is basically frozen on the spot out of sheer overwhelmed-ness as how hot that was. You have to drag him away when the water fight starts. Totally worth staying up all night figuring out how to do the spin trick with a water gun.
Once the action gets going, you two are unstoppable. No one escapes the fight unscathed thanks to y’all. All those late night Call of Duty sessions trained you for this!!
Your favorite tactic is definitely camping, though. You and Levi would pick a spot and hide there, waiting for one of his brothers to come by, and then...ATTACK!
If it actually were a competition, you two would’ve won by a landslide. But honestly, Levi didn’t really keep track. He was having too much fun watching you. You were so mesmerizing when you were in the zone and so gorgeous when laughing as you gave him victory high fives after a successful ambush.
You let him take a picture of you posing all tough with your water gun and he makes it his DDD background immediately. And his lockscreen so you can protect his DDD from intruders.
Satan:
THIS ASSHOLE. THIS MAN IS THE REASON YOU MADE SURE THERE WAS NO COMPETITION.
If there was any sense of competition, Satan would’ve gone absolutely out of his mind to beat Lucifer. He would make sure to destroy that man’s dignity as thoroughly as possible.
So, for the sake of both him and the eldest brother, no points. No contest. He grumbles about it, but, much like said eldest brother, he still joins because he sees how happy the idea of a family water fight makes you.
Satan treats is almost as seriously as Levi does. EVEN THOUGH YOU MADE SURE IT WASN’T A COMPETITION, HE DAMN SURE STILL ACTS LIKE IT IS. UGH.
Literally pulls a map of the House of Lamentation’s gardens out of his back pocket??? And puts it on the side of the fountain?? And starts planning maneuvers on it with you??? He pulls a pen out of his SWIM TRUNK POCKETS to use to point with and emphasize his points. You just blink at him. This is your mans. Good lord.
Considering his expert knowledge of the layout of the entire surrounding area of HoL from that map, he actually knows of some secret passages the other brothers don’t even consider. He takes you to them so you can use them to spy on what Lucifer’s the other brothers’ strategies are.
It’s only once you’re creeping around the tunnels that he realizes something: none of his brothers know where you are. They can’t bother you...time to make out.
Grabs your attention with a quiet, “MC” and gives you a smooch. Soon enough he is backing you up against the wall. A water balloon you have tied to your belt pops against the rough brick, interrupting the two of you.
Satan disregards it and move to kiss you again, but you let out a gasp. He’s worried for you for a moment: did you scrape yourself? But when you turn to look at him, there’s a mischievous glint in your eye that he loves to see.
“My water broke!” You whisper-exclaim dramatically, covering your mouth in fake shock. Satan has to nuzzle his face in your neck to avoid laughing and filling the tunnel with the echo that would alert his brothers. The two of you basically just canoodle in the passages until the water fight is over LMAO
Asmodeus:
Pretty much just to show off how good he looks in a bathing suit to you and anyone else who happens to be lucky enough to witness his glory.
He’s not the best at water fights and ends up using you as a human shield sometimes adjgfkjshf
“Asmo! Stop hiding behind me!” “I am not letting Lucifer mess up my hair twice in one day, darling!”
He comments quite often on how hot you look. Both in your bathing suit and also when in the zone looking for victims to douse in watery fury. You look like an action hero, MC! Have you ever thought about becoming the next Bond? Asmo could definitely pull some hypnotic strings.~
Every time you successfully pull him out of the way of an oncoming water balloon or block a blast of water from hitting, he totally melts. He presses his back to your chest, swooning against you and batting his eyelashes.
“Oh, MC, my hero! My dashing knight in shining armor!” You scoff, but think it’s super cute. You even play into it sometimes and pick him up bridal style.
“The king is looking for you, my prince,” you say once as you lift him, and he actually blushes. Asmodeus, avatar of lust, blushes at a silly pet name. He was not expecting you to get so into the role!!! He loves it, though.
For the rest of the water fight the two of you are basically roleplaying a royal and his knight bodyguard. It is stupidly fun and the both of you have an absolute blast.
“Oh, MC, my darling knight! I have amazing news!” Asmo says after the fight ends. You’re drying his hair off with a towel. “Yes, my liege?”
“In exchange for your wonderful and dutiful protection, you have been given permission by the crown to court me! Isn’t that wonderful?” He smiles and you throw your head back in a laugh. You lean down and give him a nice, long kiss on the lips before pulling away. “That is absolutely splendid, your highness.”
Beelzebub:
He loves the idea because it’ll get his whole family together and he knows it. He has to carry Belphie out there but that’s normal.
He helped you and Levi plan!! Excited boy. You filled him in when he joined you and Levi for a game night. He totally volunteered to go get some extra supplies from some nearby stores for y’all. So cute.
Once everyone is actually fighting, this boy WILL NOT STOP BEING A HUMAN (demon?) SHIELD FOR YOU. LIKE NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU TELL HIM IT’S FINE, YOU’RE FINE, HE WILL NOT STOP.
“Babycakes, it’s okay. It’s water. It can’t hurt me.” “But I love you. I want you safe.” O H. O K A Y.
Someone call a doctor Beel just shot MC through the heart!!! He’s so genuine you just bright red and kiss his cheek because he deserve it.
“Well, I guess that’s settled then, huh?” He gives you a big Beel smile and nods, ruffling your hair affectionately.
Y’all get sprayed with water A LOT because your hungry boy is very big and hard to hide. Er, I should say HE gets sprayed a lot because he is a fantastic meat shield and you’re practically dry by the time the fight is over. He, on the other hand, is soaked to the bone.
He still insists on drying you off with a towel, though. The two of you dry each other off back in the twins’ room while Belphie dozes nearby in his bed.
You’re in the middle of drying his shoulders when he just starts talking. “That was really fun, MC. I’m really grateful for you. Ever since you’ve been here, things are always more fun. And you bring all my brother together. Thank you.”
You damn near burst into tears!!! Ahhhh!!! You sniffle and jump into his nap, wrapping your arms around him. “But MC, I’m still wet.” “I don’t care!! I’m giving you snuggles!!”
Belphegor:
Literally does not give a single fuck about a water fight until he realizes it lets him throw shit at Lucifer with absolutely zero consequences. Then he is all in.
Beel doesn’t even have to carry him around during the fight! Once he is outside and realizes all the shenanigans he can pull, he is perfectly content to grab you by the hand and be the one dragging you around, for once!
You two will probably team up with Satan and Beel at various points. Beel because he’s Beel, and Satan because he and Belphie absolutely set water balloon filled booby traps for Lucifer.
That’s his preferred strategy: set up a trap and wait in the bushes, watching for the target to approach.
He’s definitely the type to yell “Every man for himself!” if someone catches you guys hiding. Unlike his twin, he lets you get totally soaked while he runs away laughing. Dickweed.
You guys have a lot of fun, though!! Seeing Belphie excited is always a treat for you. And, though he doesn’t say anything about it, Belphie also thinks it’s a treat whenever you scheme with him. You don’t join in on his mischief often, so he always cherishes the times you do.
Eventually, after soaking Lucifer thoroughly, Belphie eventually gets a bit tired. You, however, want to keep the fun going. So, just as he begins to dose off in your hiding spot...you spray him. Right in the face.
He opens his eyes and sees you raising an eyebrow at him challengingly, giggling to yourself. He growls playfully and grabs his own water gun, quickly giving chase as you bolt.
Being a demon, he’s much quicker than you. But he lets you think you can escape for a few minutes before catching up to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind.
As you squirm and laugh in his embrace, he feels thankful he joined in on the fight, even if he was hesitant at first. After all, it led to this moment, where he can turn you around in his arms and give you a nice kiss as you melt against his chest.
#ta da!! another idea i've had for the longest time#posts#my writing#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me x reader#lucifer#mammon#leviathan#satan#asmodeus#beelzebub#belphegor
552 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tangled starlights
(working title)
Also hc that Hypnos is also working when he sleeping, he does his job as God of sleep. He can also do a normal sleep so he can get rest. But he doesn't get nearly as much he needs.
Part four of marriage AU
No beta.
🌙💤💤🌙
You stood in the dusty room as Hypnos floated around, lighting the candles on the walls.
You didn't think you would return to this room. Not after what happened a few days ago. Your stomach twisted in anxiety. You weren't upset exactly but you didn't expect such a strong response.
"And no one has kept up with the library?" You asked. You didn't want to think about *it* right now.
You walked along the shelfs, the scrolls seemed to be calling for you.
"Mother made this place before Hades took over the house for her and he didn't deem any of this stuff important." He replied, and pointed to a door at the far end of the room.
Hypnos waved a hand around. "There are more in that room also. When she was younger, she used to collect as many stories and knowledge as she could. But she never took the time to actually organize it."
Hypnos lit the last candle and floated down to stand. He kept some distance between You and him. Only his bright eyes followed you around the room as you wondered.
"If you don't want to, it's totally fine. This is a lot-"
"N-no. I want to!" You shook your head. "I helped Athens with her library the few times she needed to update it."
You stopped and turned with a smile. "Also I like a good story and I don't doubt that your mother has some great ones in here."
Hypnos returned your smile and you tried not to think about how close he was last night.
"Great! I'll get Dusa to help you clean up the dust in here." He glanced around the room, "And maybe some chairs and tables."
"Yes. Might be helpful." You teased him. And felt a little warm at his laugh.
🌙💤💤🌙
Several hours in and you were bone tired and dusty.
So.Very.Dusty.
"Hey Dusa! How is it looking up there?" You called out. Dusa quickly floated to You. Her green, shiny skin was now dark gray with dust but that didn't stop the beaming smile.
You smiled back, already so fond of Dusa. It felt like You had spent a day with one of your sisters.
"I think we got all the dust! I'm just sorry we had to remove all the scrolls out of their place." She glanced at the piles of scrolls in the corner, carefully stacked together.
You shook your head, "It's okay. I've been told it was already a bit of a mess so no harm done."
"O-oh good!" She bobbed in the air. " I think-"
"Oh wow, I didn't realize we had so many scrolls." An male voice drifted through the door.
You and Dusa both turned toward the door, surprised at the visitor.
Zagreus stood, hands on hips as he looked at the pile that loomed over him.
"O-oh Prince! Be careful!" Dusa rushed over to him. You followed, of course he will show up when you and Dusa were both a mess.
"Don't worry, I won't touch it." Zagreus smiled at You. " Sorry for coming at a bad time. I heard from Mother Nyx that Hypnos' wife was taking over the library. And I realized I haven't induced myself yet. I'm Zagreus.
"My name is Y/N and I would shake your hand but…" You held up your hands, covered in dust and grime.
"Of course. If you ever need anything, just let me know." Zagreus' mismatched eyes studied your face as he said it.
"Thank you, Prince Zagreus. Dusa has been an amazing help already." You tilted your head to Dusa who blushed.
"O-oh it is not a problem! I'm happy to help!" Dusa murmured.
"Dusa is amazing isn't she? Our hardest worker for sure." Zagreus praised, he sounded so proud of her.
"Oh oh my, excuse me! I- I need to get cleaned up." Dusa rushed out, her blush visible even with the dust
"Oh dear." Zagreus said. "We might have been a bit much. But it is good that she hears it. Goodness knows Father doesn't understand how hard she works for this house."
You weren't quite sure what to say. You didn't want to take sides yet or ever if it can be avoided. You have seen too many times what happens when two gods get into a fight with each other.
"You'll have to forgive me but Dusa is right. A hot bath sounds like a dream right now." You smiled at him, glad for the excuse.
"Of course! I will leave you to it, Y/N!" Zagreus nodded and waved goodbye as he left.
You sighed. Hopefully this room will be worth the trouble.
🌙💤💤🌙
You couldn't remember the last time you felt so relaxed. There was nothing like a hot bath, you mused.
You tore off a part of the warm bread and popped it into your mouth. You eyed the pomegranate but went for the olive. Save the best for last you thought.
You laid on top of the covers, feeling like the most spoiled being alive. You went for another olive.
What a day. But at least you were moving forward and now there was a job for you to do.
inevitably, you thought about Hypnos. He was still at work, you last heard. You knew he slept on the job but that wasn't a rest. Not really.
You thought about what he said before. How being more powerful than your sisters. No one ever said that, why would they? It is clear what the gods liked.
Hermes may have the only exception (at least until Hypnos) that enjoyed her powers but even then he never said what Hypnos did.
Hermes had always pushed a little more, made her try harder to be a little more quick and clever. Your older brother in everything but blood. Hermes had been one of the few people You missed other than your sisters.
He did travel to the underworld sometimes. Maybe you could see him again. Give him letters for your sisters.
Your eyes drifted closed, the dark red
canopy were the last thing you saw before sleep overtook You.
🌙💤💤🌙
There were sounds outside your door. You blinked at the candles by your bedside. They were much lower than before you went to sleep. The only sign that any time had passed at all.
You frowned at your door. It sounded like an argument. You stood and quietly walked to the door. You pressed your ear against it.
But the bloody thing was so thick, you weren't sure what was being said.
But you weren't going to just stand there especially after being woken up so rudely. You looked around your chambers for a weapon. Just in case.
You frowned when you realized there was nothing. You would just have to be ready to slam the doors.
With a deep breath, you pushed your bedchambers open.
The two men outside went quiet. Hypnos and another man You didn't know stood before you.
"Great, just great. Now look at what you did." Hypnos snapped at the other man.
"Me?" The man snapped back. He was about the same height as Hypnos but unlike Hypnos he wore only dark colors. His scythe loomed over all three as it gleamed even the candlelight.
"Yes you!" Hypnos grumbled. He turned to You, his normal smile gone. And you couldn't help but notice how much deeper the black circles have gotten.
"Y/N, I'm sorry. You will have to forgive us for our lack of manners. You can go back to sleep now." Hypnos turned back to the man. "Brother, I think our 'little talk' is done for now. You should be getting back to work right?" Hypnos' tone was sharp.
You didn't realize he could sound like that. Also brother?
The man frowned, and looked at You then at Hypnos.
"Fine, but you have a duty to the house. You need to grow up at some point."
Then he turned on his foot and walked away.
Once he was out of sight, Hypnos sighed as he looked at you. He was floating, the candles highlighted his face.
"I didn't know you had a brother." You stepped out of your bedchambers. You were only in a draped linen gown, a little inappropriate but you were too curious not to know.
"Two brothers, Thanatos and Charon. You just 'met' my twin, Thanatos." Hypnos said.
You could hear the exhaustion in his voice and your heart twisted. You will ask more about his brothers later.
"Have you gotten any sleep?" You felt silly asking the god of sleep if he got any rest. But those dark circles were all the proof you needed.
"Sure, I fall asleep on all time especially on the job!" Hypnos' smiled meanly, his hands spread out in a mock shrug.
"I mean real sleep." You crossed your arms. "Surely, the naps you take aren't enough."
Almost out of nowhere, a thought came.
"Wait, what exactly are you doing when you napping?" You asked.
Hypnos raised an eyebrow and silent took over.
"Does it matter?" He finally responded.
"It matters. At least to me." You didn't know what to make of this whole argument. There was something you were missing but you don't know what.
Hypnos was silent as he stopped floating. He walked closer, his light golden eyes not leaving your own eyes. You resisted stepping back, staying in place with your arms crossed. You cursed how warm you felt when Hypnos stopped in front of you.
"My brother is the God of Death. He gets those last few minutes of a human's life. Unbelievably terrifying for those poor humans I imagine." Hypnos leaned forward, his hand pressed against the wall, next to your waist.
You could feel a blush crawl up your neck and cheeks. "And what do you get?" You asked, hating the small tremble in your voice.
"One third. Sometimes more than that. Slowly over the years. When I sleep, I can go to humans and give them sleep or take away any sleep they want."
Hypnos' eyes were beautiful and you felt so exposed.
"So you haven't been getting much real sleep at all." You said, tearing your eyes away. On impulse, you reached up to touch the obol. You heard his breath hitched.
You had to put a stop to this. Or you would do something very foolish.
"Right then come along." You grabbed his wrist and pulled him into your bedchamber.
"Ah…" Hypnos sounded unsure.
"You need some sleep. I can't trust that you will if I leave you alone in your bedroom." Your blush was getting worse. "Also I doubt I will be able to get any more sleep. So I'm just going to keep an eye on you while I finish up some letters."
You cleared off the bed and gestured towards your bed.
Hypnos just stood there. "You don't-"
You waved his words away. "No one will bother you in here, so just try to get a nap in."
You sat down at your desk, feeling very foolish. You grabbed a blank paper and started writing down tasks for the library.
You heard Hypnos moved around and settled in your bed. You thought you heard him murmured something but didn't turned around to look.
Eventually you heard his soft breathing. This time you did look. He didn't get under the cover but did take one of the pillows and was on the opposite side you slept on.
If anyone asked why you allowed this, you just say you were helping your husband as a wife should.
Nothing more, nothing less.
You nodded, and tried not to think how your heart fluttered earlier.
🌙💤💤🌙
Your eyes blinked open. Frowning in confusion, you looked down at your papers. A blanket slipped off your shoulders and pooled around your feet.
Last night ( or day) memories flooded back. You had fell asleep at your desk.
You turned to look at your bed but Hypnos was gone. You didn't like how disappointed you felt. No need for that for that, you scolded yourself. You grapped the blanket to return it.
Only when you got closer, did you see what Hypnos left behind.
On the bed, a bottle of nectar and a note was tucked under the bottle.
'Thanks.' No name or anything, not that You needed one.
There was however a picture of an smiling face next to it.
"Oh Hypnos." You laughed.
Oh...
Oh dear what have You gotten yourself into to?
🌙💤💤🌙
#hypnos x reader#hades game#hades hypnos#this fic had taken over my life#the brothers love each other#they just having a rough patch rn#Hypnos could be bit of a jerk though#i love him
141 notes
·
View notes
Note
hanahaki fic with any character?
Sure thing! Thank you for your request <3 I’ve never written Hanahaki before, so I hope I did it justice :D Thank you again!
By Author Blade <3
Title: Hanahaki (C!Schlatt x GN!Reader)
Summary: You’ve developed Hanahaki disease. And the cure seems out of reach.
Warnings: Angst (with a happy ending!), lots of mentions of death, also lots of mentions of vomiting & coughing (related to flowers), cursing
Word Count: 1212
Recently, your illness has been getting worse.
What started as coughing up a few petals every couple of days has gradually grown into choking on full bouquets.
Your doctor had told you it was Hanahaki, the disease of unrequited love. Your face had paled at that. The only way to cure Hanahaki was to have your beloved return your feelings. And God knows that wasn’t going to happen, on account of your “beloved” being kind of a dick.
Schlatt’s a self centered, rude, annoying, fucking dick.
But all the same, you loved him.
It’s gross.
The flowers started forming when you began working for him. It was hard moving and starting a new life, but you found yourself very close to your boss- the President. He was kind to you… sometimes. Being his secretary, you had the power to fuck him over a bit, so he usually leaned on your good side.
That doesn’t mean you were free from his teasing and overall cockiness.
As the disease progressed, you started to wonder why you were in love with someone like him. Why go through all this pain for him? What’s the fucking point if nothing is going to come out of it? You’d be leaning over the toilet, choking on your third rose, wishing you could just Get. Over. Him.
But then he’d gently knock at the door, ask if you were okay, and your heart would squeeze. You’d quickly flush away the flowers, tell him you were fine, and hope to God that he didn’t see it as important enough to prod.
It worked for a while, but then it became a daily occurrence.
You’d have to slip away from your duties after a terrible coughing fit to go get it all out of your system in the bathroom. At first, Schlatt was angry that you’d leave your desk or skip out on meetings, but then he noticed the pattern. He never pushed you further than asking if you were alright through a closed door whenever he passed by and heard the coughing. He did feel like his secretary’s health was something he should know about, though. He just never knew how to approach you about it.
Caring would look vulnerable, and he’s got a fucking country to run. He was never good with feelings in the first place anyway, so he just stuck to the sidelines, making mental notes on your health for the day. Maybe one day you’d tell him and he wouldn’t have to deal with it. Or you’d die and he would know the answer.
What he didn’t know was that thoughts like those were what was killing you.
After a particularly hard day, you spent the whole night over the toilet. He had touched you. A light graze of the fingers, sure, but it was enough to send the flowers into overdrive. You called in the next day, hoping everyone would assume that you were just overworked and needed the day off, but Schlatt was more aware of the situation than that, to your dismay.
He had showed up at your house. You could feel the flowers building up your throat. You held them down as much as you could as he talked to you, but it was hard.
You could barely register what he was saying as you started to cough so hard that you fell to your knees. He reached out and caught you, but that just made it worse. You couldn’t hold them back anymore, and the flowers started to fly out, all over the floor and all over him.
He stared at them with curious concern. He held you in a gentle way he didn’t think possible, taking one of the flowers between his fingers.
Hanahaki.
Of course, he’s heard about it. Who hasn’t? The death rate for Hanahaki’s way too high.
The two of you moved to the bathroom where you finished your fit.
His voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he spoke, breaking the silence, “Who is it?” You almost didn’t hear him.
“It.. it doesn’t matter, Schlatt.” Your voice was hoarse, it hurt to talk. You could feel the flowers fighting to come back up as he got closer to you, sitting down on the floor next to you. You coughed hard before continuing, “I-I’ll be okay.”
“Well I really fuckin’ doubt that, sweetheart. You just threw up my dead Grandma’s bouquet.” Usually, that would make you laugh, at least a little, but you could feel the flowers pushing at your throat and squeezing your lungs from just how close he was to you.
“Just tell me, (Y/N). Maybe I can help.”
You smiled at him, though it was sad. Those words only made it worse. He didn’t realize that the kindness he was showing you was only feeding the flowers.
“You aren’t going to be… mad? Or laugh?” It felt silly, but you needed the reassurance right now.
“We’re not fucking 12, (Y/N).”
“Right.”
You cleared your throat, hoping to suck down any stray flowers so you could speak. Your brain found it hard to find the right words, so you just went with the shortest, simplest thing you could think of. Something he’d understand immediately and you wouldn't have to repeat yourself.
“I love you.”
He paused, then looked at you, eyes wide and mouth open a bit.
“You what?”
Okay, not the best reaction, but he didn’t seem mad, at least.
“Schlatt don’t make me repeat myself, my throat hurts as it is.” A tease, a joke. Lighthearted enough to distract yourself from the fact that if he doesn’t reciprocate, you’re dead.
“No, no. I get it. I’m sexy as fuck- I’m the president, for God’s sake. And any one knows that everyone and their mom wanted to fuck Obama-”
He rambled on for a bit like that, inflating his ego a little in the process. You stared at him blankly, waiting for him to finish to give you a proper answer.
“You’re my secretary, though! Isn’t that kind of weird? Actually it’s kind of hot-”
You rolled your eyes.
“But if people found out? My name would be smeared. Then again, you’re really pretty. Have I told you that? Oh fuck, maybe now isn’t the right time-”
“Schlatt?”
He turned to you, having looked away during his rant, “Yeah?”
“Are you going to kiss me? Or just ramble like an idiot?”
“I’m not an idiot. Maybe a fool, but I’m not an idiot.”
“So are you going to kiss-” And before you could finish, he leaned forward, cutting you off with a kiss.
And it was a damn good kiss at that, for this kiss was enough to seal that he did, in fact, give a shit about you. You felt a weight lift off your lungs, your throat cleared up, and for the first time in months, you felt happy.
His hands on your hips, your arms around his neck, the way he had to bend down to reach your lips and you had to push yourself up to reach his... It was uncomfortable, actually. You’re on the bathroom floor for Christ’s sake, but you wouldn’t trade this kiss for the world.
You were finally free of that wretched disease, and now you could kiss him whenever you wanted.
Masterlist
#thank you for your request!#authorblade#schlatt x reader#jschlatt x reader#c!schlatt x reader#c!jschlatt x reader#dsmp#dsmp x reader#hanahaki#angst with a happy ending#death mention#vomiting mention#jschlatt dsmp#schlatt dsmp#attempt at humor#sometimes i think im funny tbh#enjoy!#thought to be unrequited love
314 notes
·
View notes
Text
yes, captain
fred weasley x fem!reader
words: 2,675
a/n: thank you so much for all the love on ‘a christmas treat’ it’s been crazy how many of you enjoyed it <333
warnings: smut , 18+
“What do you mean he’s sick?” The twins cried out in unison. I had heard voices before I’d reached the common room, but seeing them shocked wasn’t what I had been expecting. In fact it was a rarity to see them surprised at all.
“What’s up?” I asked them both, just as Lee was leaving. George had his head in his hands and Fred’s lip was blatantly chewed up.
“Wood’s sick, he’s off for 2 weeks.” He explained.
“Oh shit, that’s not good. So does that mean you two ar-”
“Co-captains.” They groaned in unison, used to having people follow them but not usually having to be in charge of anyone.
I put my arms around Fred, who was still in his quidditch uniform from practice, and gave him a much needed hug.
“You guys will be great, I’m sure of it.” I promised the twins, letting them clean up before dinner.
-
“So… how does it feel to have a boyfriend who’s the quidditch captain.” Hermione teased me, finding this to be more interesting than her book of all things.
“Fred’s co-captain, remember, and besides they only found out today.”
Harry came and sat in front of us with Ron as his side, who was more bothered by his food than his older brothers.
“I think they’ll be great captains,” Harry said, excited to have the troublemakers taking charge.
“Well of course you’d say that,” Hermione scoffed, opening her book again.
“What do you mean?” I asked. Ron looked up, clearing his throat as though to speak but the girl beside me cut him off before he had the chance.
“Harry’s the team’s seeker, he just has to do his job. That’s easy. It’s the chasers that cause trouble, they’re always squabbling over who goes where and how many goals each of them scores.”
“Yeah, what Hermione said.” Ron rolled his eyes and carried on eating.
“Guess we’ll see tomorrow afternoon eh?” Harry sighed.
“Do you think you guys will be ready for the match against Ravenclaw?” I asked.
“Hard to tell, we’ve got some time… but we’re out of a keeper now Wood’s off sick.” He huffed.
Just on cue both Fred and George turned up, looking as confident as ever as people congratulated them on their temporary promotion. Fred sat down beside me, giving me a kiss quickly before any of the others could complain.
“Ron, we need you to be our keeper.” George told his younger brother without hesitating.
Poor boy almost choked on a mouthful of potato when he realised what the twin had told him. Harry had to slap his back to get him to look alive again, making Hermione giggle from behind her book.
“Me!”
“Yes you, come to practice tomorrow and we’ll see if you’re any good.” Fred added, giving my hand a squeeze under the table.
-
“So I guess this means you’ll be too busy with captain duties,” I teased Fred as he tried to write an essay on the common room sofa.
“Oh yes, too busy for girlfriends. Especially when I have so many.”
I rolled my eyes and mindlessly played with his long hair.
“You don’t have the energy for too many girlfriends, me and George are enough for you.”
“You’re not wrong.”
He closed his potions book with a sigh and threw it to his feet, finally able to relax a little bit and lay with his head in my lap.
“Are you nervous Fred?”
“About what?”
“About being captain silly, you do have a practice tomorrow remember?”
“Oh no it slipped my mind, because I really have so much more going on right now.” He huffed sarcastically.
“I’ll take that as a yes then,” I laughed and he nodded sheepishly. “It’ll be fine, I said I’d help Ginny with some homework tomorrow though so I can’t come and watch.”
“That’s actually a bit of a relief, I’d hate to embarrass myself in front of you.” Fred sighed.
“You’re the most confident person I know, not to mention the goofiest. When have you ever been worried about embarrassing yourself?” I pointed out, and he couldn’t help but agree.
-
The next day, after practice, the team filed into the common room kinda quietly. Making both Hermione and I frown at their sudden gloomy nature.
Fred and George were last and stopped at the two of us leaning up at them on the sofa.
“How was it?” I asked, still hopeful.
“Pretty bad,” George grunted before kicking off his boots and flopping into an armchair.
“Two of the chasers got into a fight and targeted each other any time we tried to play, it was useless!” Fred exclaimed as I played with his quidditch robes.
“Told you so.” Hermione hissed, but I just ignored her.
“They’re bound to be a bit unruly, it’s probably because they’re used to Wood.” I tried to reason with them, but neither twin seemed convinced by my theory. “It’ll get better.” I whispered to Fred.
-
It could’ve been possible that I cursed it, because things seemed to spiral from then on. Ron had doubts about being a keeper, Harry was always turning up to practices late and leaving early. The chasers refused to talk to one another, and things just took a turn for the worse when the twins started to argue over how to fix things.
It was 3 days before the match and the team was more divided than ever before. Making Fred feel responsible for the downfall.
“It was two weeks, that was it. And I couldn’t even control things for one day!” He complained aloud as I sat on his bed, hoping he would chill out a bit. I opened my arms, letting him crawl into them as if he was a child.
“I’m helpless y/n.” He huffed.
“No you’re not.” George walked in, saw his brother and immediately went to walk back out. They had been avoiding each other ever since their argument, and it was time for things to go back to normal.
“Oi stop right there.” Both boys froze as I spoke, I moved Fred off me and stood up. Not that it was intimidating to either of them, but it was worth a try. “You two need to forget whatever you were mad about and forgive each other, because nothing’s gonna go right if neither of you can agree.” I stated, their heads hung in the realisation that what I was saying was right.
“If we did things my way we could actually win.” Fred grumbled from his bed.
“I don’t care,” George seemed caught off guard that I wouldn’t immediately take my boyfriend’s side. “If you did win, it wouldn’t feel as good than if you did it together.”
“She’s right.” The boy by the door finally spoke up, holding a hand out to his brother. Fred shook it with an awkward smile.
“Sorry Georgie.”
“Now. let’s figure out what to do with this team.” I sighed.
-
After a whole night of negotiating, Fred and George settled on a game plan and went to the last practice with hope in their hearts. Hermione and y/n watched them fly about from the stands, unable to hear the boys talk, but unable to spot any problems as they played through the upcoming match.
Once it was over Fred came straight over to y/n. He was grinning wider than she’d seen all month.
“Better?” She laughed.
“So much better.”
-
“I like seeing you happy,” The girl told her boyfriend later that night, promising not to keep him up too late. They needed to be awake early of course. Her and Fred were standing at the top of the astronomy tower looking over the grounds as the sun went down.
“Thank you for helping us,” He whispered. He loomed behind her and rested his arms on the balcony in front of her, caging her in.
“Yeah well you owe me, big time.”
“Oh don’t worry, you’ll get a reward.” He smirked, making a chill run down her spine.
They’d had sex before, plenty of times, and many after winning games. But something more rested on this game, if he won there would be an even bigger feeling of achievement for the boy. Who was usually quite happy to take sidelines as one of the two beaters in the team. Now, he was a captain and it would look good if he won.
“Stay with me tonight?” He asked y/n.
“I shouldn’t distract you, rest is the only thing you need Fred.”
“It’s not what I want though,” She felt his body press up against her and she wondered whether getting fucked by him up there would be all that bad. However, she decided to wait, knowing it would be even better after they won.
“Fred. I’ll see you in the morning okay?” y/n smiled and slipped out from under his trap, giving his cheek a kiss and running off.
“Oi, that’s not a proper goodnight. Come back here!” He called out with laughter, a chase beginning on the twisting steps back down to the castle.
-
Hermione always claimed she couldn’t care less about quidditch, but as soon as she saw Ron as Gryffindor’s keeper she suddenly became yet another teenage girl screaming his name in support. Y/n laughed, seeing her friend switch up so quickly.
Then again, her voice always went hoarse after cheering on Fred and George so violently it sometimes felt like she’d never talk again. But she would never do it differently. Seeing the twins in their captain’s robes made her heart swell with pride, especially when Fred flew past their stand to give her a wink like he did before every game. It was practically tradition by this point.
“Go Fred!!!!” She screamed as he swung his bat around, sending bludgers flying through the air and towards Ravenclaw’s chasers. One of them almost fell to the ground trying to dodge it, and in turn losing possession of the quaffle to the Gryffindor chasers who had finally learnt to work together. They flew in formation, passing the ball between one another to throw off the other team. Then as one of them went to score, the other two held off opposing beaters so they could score.
To Hermione’s joy; Ron was amazing. He barely let a single goal in, kicking them off and thwacking them away with his broom. After a while he began to show off, but no one minded because he still managed to defend the goal.
Fred and George were working their asses off trying to hit off bludgers, not stopping for a single second to notice what else was going on. Y/n could watch her boyfriend work like that all day, his face laced with determination and joy whenever he hit one off successfully. Even more so whenever they scored another goal. Ravenclaw had never had a chance against them.
The match ended as always, with Harry just about catching the snitch before the other team’s seeker got there. He flew down to find the team hugging one another in joy, the rest of Gryffindor house racing from the stands to join the celebration. It wasn’t long before Fred and George were carried back to the common room, their names being chanted like gods.
Y/n caught a flash of her boyfriend’s red hair disappearing into the crowd as her and Hermione followed the flow of people into the castle.
-
“There you are!” Fred had called, finally finding y/n amongst the people partying later that night. “Thought you’d sacked me off.”
“As if, you’re the winning captain now I’m basically a celebrity by default!” She joked, taking the drink from his hand and sipping it hesitantly.
“Oi, what was that for?” He complained.
“I don’t trust my own drinks round you and George.”
“You’ve learnt then,”
“Yep, the hard way.” He smirked at my words and pulled me aside to talk quietly.
“Speaking of hard things, I’m on an absolute power high and really need you.” He said, never one to beat around the bush, well they’d done it once in a bush.
“Give me 10 minutes,” she told him.
“I’ll be waiting in the secret hallway, near potions?” y/n nodded and Fred disappeared off to wait for her, hoping no one would stop him on his way there.
Y/n went up to her dorm room, quickly knocking back a few shots before fixing her makeup and making her hair look less flat. Hermione saw her sneak through the common room and sent her a wink, making the girl blush as she slipped out into the main castle.
It was a Saturday night, and everyone would be gathered in their common rooms by now if there wasn’t already a party going on, so the castle was quiet as she walked through it. Footsteps sounded from somewhere in front of her. The girl slipped inside the transfiguration class, keeping the door just ajar to see filch walk past. Seconds past before she ran back out and straight to the secret passageway her and Fred had discovered a few months prior.
“Fred?” She called out quietly, not able to see him yet. He came out of the shadows with a smirk on his face and rested on the cold stone wall.
“Hello beautiful.” He said, as she took no time to jump on him. Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, immediately enthralled in his kiss and the slight taste of licorice that seemed to constantly linger on his tongue.
“It’s been so- so hard not to just come f-fuck you right away,” She moaned admittedly between breaths, struggling to speak over the sheer lust coursing through her body.
Fred’s hands played across her neck, rough as always from the cold air, and travelled across her body. He didn’t dare waste time taking off clothes, and grabbed her waist to push her away. She gasped at the sudden lack of touch, but obeyed his every move as the boy laid himself down on the cold steps. Y/n knew what to do. Fred pulled out his cock as she took off her panties from beneath her skirt. She straddled his lap, letting him slip inside her.
In that moment, as their heads were involuntarily thrown back, both groaned out with immense pleasure. Y/n knew how cocky Fred would get after a quidditch win, this position being their own kind of celebration. But there was something different about the boy this time.
He was pounding harder, and deeper, and encouraging the girl’s sweet moans every time one slipped from between her beautiful lips. She could feel his grip, tighter than ever, leaving little finger sized bruises on her hips as she rocked back and forth.
The sheer size of his cock inside her made y/n tense up, Fred having no choice but to speed up.
She screamed, suddenly very appreciative of the passageways seclusion, her chest heaving as the girl had to take a second to adjust to the growing desire in the pit of her stomach.
“You’re close aren’t you?” Fred laughed, revelling in how good he was making her feel. Y/n could only nod in response, her lip tight in her teeth. The boy laughed again, but she could never feel nervous around him.
A hand came up to her neck, she felt it first before she saw it. He clenched the sides with his long fingers as y/n gasped out. He watched her moan lightly, almost begging incoherently as he got her closer and closer.
One last push with his hand made the girl scream, her pussy tighter than he’d ever felt it before. The boy struggled to hold back much longer, pushing her off so he could cum.
“Fuck,” Fred groaned.
“Please, promise me one thing.” Y/n asked, making her boyfriend frown.
“What?”
“Never let anyone else be captain again,” She gasped, still worn out from how ruthless he’d been with her.
#fred weasley#fred and goerge weasley#weasley twins#weasley#fred x y/n#fred x reader#fanfiction#fanfic#harry potter#smut#weasley smut#weasley twins smut#fred smut#fred weasley smut#y/n#reader#quidditch#captain#daddy
951 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi 🥺 can i have "It's lonely here without you" from list 2 with Jack? 🥺 if possible some hurt/comfort situation? love you 💖
Hi bb, you can have whatever you want 🥺💕
Agent Whiskey x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none
Pedro Characters Masterlist
»»————- ♡ ————-««
You sighed to yourself as you looked around the dark, empty bedroom. It was early still, and the day was just breaking over the horizon. The sky was an inky blue, melding into orange and pink as a new day was beginning. Birds were softly chirping outside the window, traffic was starting up, and the world was slowly waking.
And yet you wished you weren't. Not alone anyways.
You missed him. You missed Jack. Everything about him - his smile, his laugh, his touch, his kiss. Every little thing about him was so golden and after having been in his glow for so long, it was hard to go with it. It was for work, missions sometimes called him away for extended periods, but it was always hard.
Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you quickly unlocked it and scrolled through your notifications, swiping away most of them. Only one really caught your attention - a very early good morning text from Jack. A smile tugged on the corners of your mouth as you read over the text and some of your previous conversations. Jack was the epitome of an old man when it came to texting, but damn he tried, and he never failed to make you smile. Your favorites were always the silly selfies he sent in his down time.
Gods, you hoped he would be back soon.
I miss you, you quickly typed out, it's lonely here without you.
Before thinking too much about it, you quickly sent it and turned the phone upside, burrowing back into your pillows. They still smelled like him no matter how often they were washed - not that you minded.
It was only a few moments before the phone vibrated. Surprised by the quick response, you snatched it back up and hastily opened the message.
Get up, your brow furrowed at the cryptic message, go to the kitchen.
You quickly replied - what?
Just do as I ask for once, Sugar, without any sass.
Fine!
You beamed at his message, still confused as to what he meant, but decided to indulge him. Pushing back the warm, plush blankets you slowly climbed out of the bed, letting your feet hit the carpet with a soft thud. You grabbed a nearby sweater, which just happened to be Jack's, and pulled it on before slowly padding downstairs and to the kitchen. The house you shared with your husband was decently sized, but when you were alone it felt gigantic and cold.
You were humming to yourself as you walked into the kitchen, stopping dead in your tracks as you spied a large bouquet of your favorite flowers on the counter. Your face lit up as you walked over to them, completely forgetting that you should be worried about the fact that mysterious flowers had appeared in your kitchen.
You looked for a card or some of indication of their origin, touching a few of the soft petals. Unfortunately, you found nothing. No card, note, anything until -
"Hi Sugar," you almost jumped out of your skin as you looked around the flowers and found Jack grinning back at you. You almost squealed in delight as you ducked around the corner as you threw yourself into his arms. He held you tightly, easily wrapping his arms around you as you buried your face into his chest, "hi baby, I've missed you so much."
"Jack," you pulled back to look at him, studying his face, watching as his soft brown eyes crinkled with his smile. You touched his cheek, watching as he keened into your touch, "I've missed you too. I didn't expect you back so soon."
"Maybe I pulled your leg and said I was going to be gone longer than I was," he teased as he kissed you softly. It was easy to melt into his touch, to get completely lost in him, "I wanted to come and surprise my favorite girl."
"Whatever for?" you asked softly as your heart fluttered gently. Gods, you were so in love with him, and you couldn't imagine a life without him anymore, "I don't think I've missed anything...its not our anniversary...no plans? Why…?"
"I didn't think I needed a reason," he insisted with a gentle shake of his head, "I just don't want to be away any longer than I needed to be. And I figured this would be a nice little surprise. I know how hard it is for me to be away from you, and I imagine its the same for you…"
"I detest even being away from you for even a day," you promised, "anything longer is practically torture. I was thinking about stowing myself into your luggage this time around."
"A most welcome surprise that would have been," he swiped his thumb along your cheek before kissing you again. He hand went to the back of your neck as he held you close and you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing him in. If you could have stayed like that forever, you easily would have, "I love you."
"I love you," you trailed a few kisses along his jaw before going back to his lips and giggling as his mustache tickled your lip. You always teased him for it, claiming it would look ridiculous on anyone else, but it worked for him. And it did - of course he looked handsome without it, but there was something about that was just so...him.
"I suppose I do have one thing I've been wanting to tell you," he cleared his throat as you pulled back, a worried expression etching onto your features. He shook his head fervently before tenderly cradling your face in his hands, "no, no, no, sugar, don't worry - it's nothing bad!"
"Jack! You can't just spring something like that on me," you pouted at him, sticking your bottom lip out as he chuckled softly, "out with it! What is it?"
"Well, I was thinking," he started and immediately held up a finger to your lips to silence you. He knew you well enough to know that you were about to make a sassy comment, "I know its a shocker, but hear me out."
"Sorry baby," you grinned at him, "go on."
"I know we've talked about it and I was just thinking...we've been married for a while now and well, if we're serious about starting a family in the near future, I want to be home more," you listened carefully to his words, but you couldn't help yourself as a grin stretched across your features, "I don't want to miss a thing, and want to be here for everything and I think its time I took a step back from statesman. Besides...I'm not the same young man I once was."
"Jack," you put your hands on his broad chest as you tried to blink back the years that threatened to well up. You'd been waiting to hear those words for some time, although you never would have told him that. You knew how much his job meant to him and you'd never have thought about getting in the way of that. But it never stopped you from worrying about him, even if he was one of the best and most seasoned agents. He was your Jack, and you'd always worry - but this? This was everything, "do you mean it? I'd never ask you to do such a thing, baby. I know how much it means to you."
"I want to do this," he promised gently as he wiped away the single tear that had rolled down your cheek, "for myself and you and whatever else comes down the road. You are more important than anything else."
"I...I don't know what to say," you said softly as you could already picture long leisurely days with Jack at your side and in the near future, maybe a baby of your own, "besides the fact that I love you so much. You mean more to me than you will ever know."
"I'm hoping you'll say it sounds like a good idea," he almost seemed nervous as he searched your eyes for approval. It hadn't been a rash decision by any means, but he hadn't quite discussed it with you before making the decision to significantly cut back his duties. He didn't think you'd have a problem but still… "or otherwise I'll feel like an old fool."
"Of course it sounds like a good idea," you promised, gently carding a hair through his dark locks, "you continually make me the happiest woman. I don't know what I did to deserve you-"
"Oh Sugar, I think its the other way around," he insisted gently, "after...everything with...I never thought I'd get the privilege to love again, or to meet someone like you. You came into my life like a tornado, but I wouldn't change a thing. You have made me believe that there is good in the world, that there is a reason to get up every morning and be the best. I don't think you truly understand the magnitude with which I love you."
"A gentleman and a poet," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his middle and held him close, "if we weren't already married, I'd say that sounded like a proposal."
"Well, I suppose it is a proposal of sorts, I propose I work less hours and spend more time with you," he teased, "if you'll allow it."
"Always," you beamed at him, "but right now I have a favor to ask of you."
"Of course," you reached for his hand and started to tug him away and towards the staircase, "we go back to bed and be lazy and spend the day doing nothing, "its still so early."
"Well my plan had been to make coffee and breakfast and surprise you with it," he admitted and if you it was possible to be anymore in love with him, you would have fallen in love then and there, "but someone was up early and I couldn't keep a secret."
"I couldn't sleep," you confessed softly, "I missed you...and there's been a lot on my mind lately."
"Oh?" he seemed concerned for a moment before you shook your head to let him know it wasn't anything serious, "everyone's alright?"
"More than alright," you grinned, "let's go back to bed and I'll tell you everything. We can make breakfast - later when the world is actually awake."
"Now you have me intrigued," he admitted as he let you pull him along upstairs. His hand was warm around yours as he held tightly onto it, the simple action causing a warmth to settle all over you. Jack was home and he wasn't going anywhere - what more could you want?
"Its nothing to worry about," you promised as you thought of the little surprise you had for him stashed away in the drawer of the nightstand, "just come with me and hold me and sleep. I've missed you."
"And I have missed you greatly," he paused at the landing of the stairs before pulling you into his arms and kissing you until you were practically drunk off of his touch, "my love."
"And I you," you nuzzled your nose gently against his, "now come on, let us be lazy and relax. Tell me everything about your trip and I'll tell you all about what happened since you've been gone…"
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie
#agent Whiskey#agent Whiskey x reader#agent Whiskey x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#agent jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#forever rogue's follower celebration#jack daniels x fem!reader
520 notes
·
View notes
Text
pineapple express (irl!quackity x gn!reader)
request: just a quick side note - love your writing! if you’re comfortable with it and it doesn’t cross any boundaries could you do a getting high with quackity for a gn! reader? tyty. (anon)
a/n: I DO NOT SUPPORT THE USE OF DRUGS OK. i just thought this was a very fun ask. do not take drugs underage and if you do take drugs, please do so responsibly. don’t end up being a f*ck-up like me lmao. also i’m sorry this is so short, i have been so busy with uni work and i am doing this while i have a night off. hopefully sometime after 4th may i will be writing for frequently.
pairing: irl!quackity x gn!reader (platonic)
summary: the reader has been having a stressful week and alex has the perfect remedy to make them loosen up. and of course, how could the reader deny spending time with their smoking buddy? (inspired by this hilarious clip of paul rudd and jason segel high during an interview.)
tw: use of drugs (cannabis), intoxication, cursing.
Thank God, it was finally the weekend. I finished all my duties for Friday and I could finally anticipate personal time to myself. I expected to just drive home and become vegitated from exhaustion and stress up until the next week, until I received a text.
Alex: I got some stuff today, smoke buddy. Wanna come over and hang out?
A smile immediately came to my face. I texted back in approvement and prepered myself for arrival; quickly heading back home to change into fresh clothes and fix myself up. I brought my rolling kit in case Alex was on short supply and made my way to my best friend’s house.
“Hola Amigo!” Alex swung the door open the minute I rang the doorbell; his voice exaggerated and welcoming. I engulfed him in my usual hug as my way of entering his apartment. Routinely, I dropped my backpack into the living room and idly chucked my jacket over the couch. I could already inspect the event that was coming; Alex had a ton of shit. Normally Alex counted on me to roll the perfect joint, but when I became too high to do so, he always had emergency cone joints and even a fuck-off bong for special occasions.
“So are we cranking up the hot water and smoking in the bathroom or in here?” I asked for reasurrence, gesturing around the living room.
“Nah, it’s just me and you today. Even the neighbours are out of town.” Alex said, taking a B-turn to his usual spot of the couch. “Have you rolled anything yet?”
“Sorry, didn’t have time. Pretty hectic day.” I apologised, sinking next to him on the couch and running a hand stressfully through my hair. “I’ll quickly do one now. Want your own?”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re a busy-bee.” Alex said understandingly. “Oh and- Yes please.”
I soon got to work, taking my papers and grinder out of my pocket. Alex insisted in dealing with the grinder, putting the buds into the container and got to twisting. At this point, we were a couple of stoners. We never expected to be smoking buddies until I realised that out of all my mutual friends, Alex was the only person that had the same tolerance as me. I could never vibe with anxious high people, since they made me anxious myself. I had fun when I smoked; I giggled profusely and the most aburd theories would pour out of my mouth. Sure, I also got the munchies, but not as bad as Alex. One time Alex ate six packets of hot-flaming cheetos to the point his mouth was on fire. He was so high and flustered from the spice he throught he was breathing out fire. However, that experience does not beat the time I thought his cat was floating in mid air. In conclusion, me and Alex had the funniest experiences when under the influence.
After a few intricate minutes of rolling, I succeedingly rolled two joints. Alex liked his thick at the beginning but thin at the end, and I preferred a medium gurth all throughout. Alex admired my creation, muttering a ‘wow’ and praised my efforts, then took a lighter out of his pocket.
We said our cheers and began to blaze up. Leaning my head back on the couch, I stared at the ceiling as I took slow draws, engulfing the smoke deep into my lungs before deeply exhaling. Alex at this point began to play a playlist (that we specifically created for being stoned) and took his first inhale. He always coughed at the first inhale before slowly easing into his usual rhythm. When my joint was halfway, I began to feel my body outlining with a buzzing sensation. My teeth felt isolated from my gums and the ends of my limbs felt invisible. Our combined exhaled smoke began to intermingle, everytime I took a breath it entered back into my lungs. The sound of Alex’s chuckles flowed into my fuzzy ears and as if almost contagious, I became to chuckle as well.
“That’s some strong stuff.” I commented, my eyes beaming at the ceiling before my eyelids began to grow heavy. Alex hummed in agreement, taking the last straw of his joint before smothering the brown-stained tip into his ashtray. The ashtray was one of those clay creations that had the eyes and mouth on them. I gave him it as a gift for his birthday.
An hour went by and at this point, Alex and I powered through another joint. We mobilised ourselves onto the floor as we lay on large pillows and blankets; a nook that Alex made up before my arrival. We laughed at the most mundane shit and lay on our backs, our heads closely together as we stared at the ceiling.
“Have you ever had a best friend?” Alex asked in a stoned haze.
“I mean . . . you’re kinda my best friend.” I admitted, a sentence that would probably not leave my mouth if I was sober due to hesitation.
“Really? That is so sweet.” Alex said, his tone of voice so idle it was borderline adorable.
“Am I your best friend?” I asked, my eyes glancing over to him anticipating a response.
“You know this, (Y/N). I have had the same best friend since I was twelve years old . . . and he is imaginary.”
“Oh my fucking God . . . Not Pablo.” I cringed, squeezing my bloodshot eyes closed. The amount of times Alex has talked about his childhood imaginary friend while high is annoyingly been multiple times. At this point, I don’t know if he was joking or being serious. Or just completely and utterly stoned.
“He’s fucking amazing, (Y/N)! I’m not fucking kidding!” Alex exclaimed, looking at me in shock but also trying to hold back a laugh.
“Oh yeah sorry . . . I didn’t mean to offend Pablo.” I said sarcastically, “Pablo who visits you in your dreams!”
Alex howled at my words and laughed from his chest, clenching his ribs from the pain. A laugh also escaped my throat harshly and I coughed from the suddenness, slamming my hand into a pillow as I was paralyzed from the hilariousity.
“Oh my God . . . I’m literally sweating” Alex mustered out in between wheezes. He was bent double on the floor, still clenching at his ribs. The sight of him made me chuckle even when my laughter became to calm down.
“Then take off your hat, silly!” I said, noticing the beams of sweat that formed on his temple.
“You jerk! I can’t take off my hat.” Alex exclaimed, his fingers clenching onto the hem of his beanie as if he thought I was going to yank it off him. “It’s a mental compulsion!”
“A mental compulsion?” I emphasised in confusion, his random reasoning retracting me back into a fit of laughter. “Why’s that? Will Pablo come and kill us all if you take it off? Is that why you have been wearing one for all these years?”
Alex at this point laughed so hard at my joke, I was convinced he stopped breathing. When his body allowed him to exhale, he let out the loudest cackle I have ever heard come out his mouth. It even beats the ones he makes on streams. His sudden burst of laughter made we want to make him laugh even more.
“Don’t take off the magic hat, Alex! Otherwise Pablo will come visit you!” I mocked a spooky voice as I sat up from the floor and began to tickle Alex into submission. Alex squirmed, his red eyes now pouring with positive tears. His belly laughs continued as I physically taunted him in a joking manner.
“I’m sorry Pablo, I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” Alex jokingly pleaded, his voice becoming so high-pitched that his vocal chords let out a squeak. I flopped back onto the pillows in laughter as we were squirming like idiots for several minutes. Once our jester behaviour came to a close, our laughters died out and we lay exhausted on the floor. The music from the speakers now dominated the sound in the room. Alex breathed heavily next to me trying to catch his breath. It was moments like this were I felt the least anxious, were I could just let go and not worry about the world. It felt absolutely bliss.
TAGLIST ! / @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069 @obsidiyan (join my taglist!)
#quackity x reader#irl!quackity x reader#quackity x you#quackity x y/n#gender neutral reader#quackity x gn!reader#quackity imagine#quackity fanfic#mcyt fanfic#mcyt imagine#mcyt x reader#youtuber imagine#quackity fluff#platonic quackity x reader#stoner!quackity#quackity one-shot
124 notes
·
View notes
Text
“losing game” || fukuzawa yukichi
gif does not belong to me, nor do the anime & characters
fandom: bungou stray dogs
pairing: fukuzawa yukichi x gn!reader (1st person pov)
warnings: angst, lots of hurt and no comfort, emotional distress, barely mentioned mental instabilty, plot twist
a/n: just a little something i managed to write during the few moments of free time from uni. read as a letter to yukichi from the second paragraph onwards!! hope you enjoy, let me know if you like the new lyric-prose style i’m experimenting with!
word count: 1434
synopsis/prompt: “a broken heart is all that's left, i'm still fixing all the cracks” ― arcade, duncan laurence
there is something noteworthy and indistinguishably patronizing which marks the mere presence of one fukuzawa yukichi – be it his wise and almost all-knowing gaze or his imposing posture, the way he manages to command respect without so much as a gesture anywhere he stands. he is authority and justice and that’s the only manner he allows himself to be, the only partial impression he allows others to make of him. sometimes i fret there really might be nothing more behind the carved, relentless shadow than the steely stares and unmovable frowns, lines so deep and intensely depicted that one might think of them as unforgiving – of what one may never know, if the unforgiveness staggers from the same place where the thoughts in his mind convince him that peace is something to be fought for but to never be attained. though sometimes the rough edges, the hollowed lines marking a tiredness which some days, some way feels all too familiar for comfort give way to a softer, unmistakably caring look; it’s almost imperceptible, the way he manages to turn the cold and unforgiving watercolors into a beautiful masterpiece, the true talent of the unrecognized artist – his eyes lose the usually guarded edge which serves to protect everything but himself, his strained lips imperceptibly curl at the edge of a smile and the way he almost lets his shoulders abandon the weight he carries as if it were an old, battered companion brings to mind a tender sort of sympathy that sticks and can never really be forgotten – or forgiven for that matter.
akin to the flourishing of the most precious cherry blossom, you never allow for these moments to last too long, nor do they recur as often as to make those you care for expect them – in that, i think of you as more alike to the orchid than the cherry, for whenever the mysteriously grim orchid blooms, one knows not to hope for more time than its evanescent beauty can offer. cherries come to be expected, granted, but orchids never kiss and tell and you end up entangled either way. and after all, is it not the inevitable transience of things that makes them all the more desirable? if you heard me talking this way, with flowers and art and everything fulfilling in this life on my lips, singing your praises as if you were my last day of spring and sunlight, i’m sure you’d scoff the silliness away – this is your way, the way things have always been and always will be. no matter what you seldom sternly say, i’ll always be fonder of orchids than cherry blossoms anyway, for in their grave allure i found my own kind of tragic beauty.
by now i am convinced that you know and have always known exactly how much power you yield and how little you’d need to make me forget my own sadness – those moments, the careless slips of that bleeding heart of yours, are never meant for me. it pains me so to stand by your side without being able to bask in your praises, but that’s just how things are supposed to be – i am in your life, and that’s all i will ever need. sometimes you look at me as if you expect to see something - or someone – else in my place and i always end up trying to fill the void left behind by an illusion i don’t even know the name of. there is a hole that feels like an aching fever permanently carved into my soul, it spreads like an illness each and every time your voice creeps into my mind; even now i think of you and suddenly i feel much worse and better at the same time because you can never be the cure, but you sure as hell turned into my favorite medication. when i’m not by your side, in your beloved agency with your beloved family – the only ones allowed to walk alongside you into the sun - i delude myself into thinking i somehow may get over these terrible feelings that stretch my mind and hollow my heart, desperately convincing myself that time will wash away all of the promises kept in your sleeve. but sometimes, times that are just some and so unbelievably others, far in between and still so unfathomably precious to me, sometimes you let me hope and crave and i am almost convinced it could maybe be enough. the truth is that i have only ever known pain and i learned to make an addiction out of it.
once you called me by your side and i was quick to follow, as i always am because it’s you after all. under the feeble setting sun, the words spilled faultlessly from your lips, as if they had been composed to the likelihood of those poems about tragedy and grace i was stubborn enough to keep reading at night, and i stood in awe as you let me sip the most bitter of nectars, an aftertaste so haunting i knew it would forever ruin any chance of escaping this, of escaping you. welcoming the sudden flood with far more haste and yearning than i’d like to admit, you told me many things that day – about the agency, about your duty, about mine-, but you did not dare to utter my name even once, as you never did. you thanked me – me, little old, battered and faded, wide eyed and heavy-hearted me with no home to turn to and no more dreams in my closet to spare. you who had retrieved the pandora box and sealed it shut with your bare hands, you who had showed me another way, another path that nearly splintered my spirit all over again. i smiled still and for the briefest passing moment i almost hoped for you to reciprocate the minutest hint of affection; you raised your hand and rested it on my shoulder – it was warm, and it felt like water, like the purest form of unattainable salvation and i almost found myself crying in front of your unshakeable stance.
there was another time when you did gift me the smile i so desperately wished to keep for myself and i burn still, because look at what you made of me and what did you reduce my integrity to – i am neither blessing nor curse, the limbo of your love turned me into a willing martyr rejoicing the smallest act of kindness. you ruined me and i let you. i let you because a singular moment of bliss was worth the relentless tortures of your inferno.
i follow you around and keep you company still, but you never seem to acknowledge my unyielding pestering (just like before). when you let your guard down, my eyes lose themselves in yours because i can never completely understand what goes on in that obliviously rigid mind of yours – you look apathetic or sad or something that’s quite in between. oftentimes i worry for you, but you have always managed to cope and stand strong even as the tide came to wash away the last footprints of a decaying era, i believe you ought to keep doing so for another lifetime still. you have people who are dear to you as you are to them and for how much you’re unwilling to admit it, i also know that you keep a picture of me in your pocket, the one hidden on the inside of your austere kimono, somewhere between your contrite self-loathing and the lovely remnants of the day. when you think i can’t see you, i notice you make a habit of touching the spot where it’s concealed as if to remind yourself i am something right within your grasp, but that you’d never allow yourself to have. you never take me out of that pocket to properly relish the view and i will never ask you to. you grew fond of another illusion, as you’re prone to always do.
“the road to hell is paved with good intentions” i chant to myself when no one is listening, for my good intentions have only ever been inspired by you and burning and rotting in hell now barely sounds like a threat at all if i got to hear your praise just one more time.
today as you once again kneel pathetically curved upon my solitary grave, i can hear you weep yet; it’s been a while since you came to see me but finally for the first time, you call my name –
maybe you really did love me after all.
#bungou stray dogs fukuzawa#fukuzawa yukichi#bungou stray dogs#fukuzawa yukichi x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#bungou stray dogs imagine#oneshot#fukuzawa x reader#angst#bsd#bsd x reader#fukuzawa x y/n#bsd x y/n#armed detective agency#inspired by music#arcade by duncan laurence#i love this man ngl
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
By Fireflies’ Glow (Bagginshield)
Soooo I made a Bagginshield fic based off of this post and it’s on my Ao3 if you prefer to read it there, but here it is! The firefly scene didn’t make it into the movie’s cuts, so I made it myself and made it gay for good measure.
Word count: 2237
Warnings: None, unless you count unreasonable amounts of pining
Rivendell’s magnificence only extended into the evening, after the last light of day passed over the mountains surrounding it. Streaming waterfalls cascaded over the cliffs below, leading into rivers and streams down past the elven borders. Dusk crept up on Eastern skies in parallel to the setting sun, until the moon above followed its path high into the sky. Where there was sunlight cast into the water, silver moonlight now shone upon its surface. Bilbo had never seen an evening so beautiful, not in all his years.
The beauty of Rivendell had so captured him that the hobbit had spent nearly all his time wandering about the kingdom. While his dwarrow companions dined together, Bilbo explored the main halls of Rivendell, and the hobbit was quick to continue his self-guided tour just after Thror’s map had been translated. There was no doubt that Bilbo had fallen in love with the Valley of Imladris. He had to see as much as he could before their journey picked up once more.
At least, that was his excuse to distract from the real reason he had put distance between himself and the others. In truth, he did not feel welcome at their table. Bilbo was acutely aware of his outsider status to the dwarves; he may have been a contracted burglar of this company, but the hobbit knew he was still viewed as little more than a burdensome stranger without any experience of the larger world. The worst part was that he couldn’t blame them.
It was no secret he was inexperienced. What he had in his skills of gardening and baking (the best cakes from scratch in the Shire, you see), he lacked in the practical adventuring repertoire of sword fighting and travelling across Middle Earth. He was a Baggins of Bag-End after all, such respectable hobbits didn’t just up and leave on journeys with strange dwarves who ate his pantry stock.
But then, Bilbo supposed he wasn’t a respectable hobbit anymore. He had left that title behind as soon as he grabbed his signed contract and rushed out of his rounded door all that time ago. Instead, he was a member of a perilous quest to slay a dragon and reclaim a dwarven kingdom. However, the title of “adventurer” didn’t seem to belong to him either.
Another rounded corner of the path led Bilbo to find himself back where his exploration had started in the gardens. He hadn’t meant to come this way again, but it seemed his feet had started wandering on their own when the hobbit became lost in doubt. Bilbo didn’t mind, though.
The gardens of the elves were some of the most enchanting he’d ever seen. Hedges encircled the area, trees sprung up their lanky limbs that seemed to welcome all who ventured there. It was well-kept, organized, and filled with flowers of all colors he’d only ever seen in books. The colors seemed to glow by moonlight as well, transforming into translucent blues, purples, and greens. Bilbo used to daydream about places like these from reading his books, wondering what it would be like to live in a place where such beautiful things can grow. Lord Elrond’s offer of staying in Rivendell returned to his mind.
“Master Baggins,” Came the rough voice of Thorin Oakenshield, pulling the hobbit from his thoughts in surprise. Bilbo’s head turned to see that the gardens had already been occupied by said dwarven king, who sat upon the backless, stone-carved bench alone. He held an expression that Bilbo could not place. At the least, it was not a glare or look of disdain toward him as usual. “I was beginning to think you’d run off. You made quick leave after reading the map. You weren’t at dinner, either.”
“You’re right, I was..”The hobbit shifted to his other leg. The words didn’t find him to explain that he didn’t think himself welcome in their company. Exploring didn’t seem much like a Baggins pastime either, so Bilbo’s sentence hung unfinished. “I didn’t realize someone else was here. I expect you wish to be left alone, I’ll take my leave-”
“The others are resting,” Thorin said before Bilbo could take even a step away. His gaze turned away from the hobbit and back to the open trees. “I couldn’t find sleep.”
“...So you came here?”
Thorin bowed his chin in a nod. The halfling recalled many sleepless nights of his own being comforted by the fresh air found in his garden back home. He allowed himself to wonder if this was something he and the dwarf had in common.
“I never took you for a lover of nature.”
Perhaps on better terms, Thorin might have seemed amused. “I assure you, I am not. The gardens just happened to be far enough away from the sounds of Bombur’s snores.”
“I see. It is rather peaceful. In the gardens, I mean.”
“Indeed.”
Moments of silence stretched between the unlikely pair while the two admired their surroundings, even if Thorin wouldn’t admit to elvish work capturing his attention. Bilbo remained awkwardly at the steps of the garden where he was first stopped. He didn’t mind standing since Hobbits had more resilience in being on their feet for long amounts of time, but to Bilbo’s surprise, Thorin made room on the bench beside him.
The halfling’s lips twitched in figuring what to say, should he say anything at all. Finally he decided that he ought to try and test the waters. If Thorin was offering him a place to sit, he would take the opportunity and see where it took him. The Tookish part inside told him that this could be his chance to reconcile their strained first impressions. Bilbo walked over and took his seat at the far end of the bench.
“I have my own garden, back in Bag-End,” He started, after the silence became too heavy to hold any longer, “You might have seen it when you arrived that night. It’s certainly not as impressive as this, but then I’m just one hobbit compared to many elves. Besides, it has all the flowers I really need, all of my favorites. The Shire has perfect weather for my hydrangeas best of all.”
The dwarf didn’t speak as he watched him ramble. Bilbo didn’t think Thorin much the type for listening about gardening techniques and therefore spared the details, but a quick glance over to the dwarf proved that he was, indeed, listening. Still silent as ever, but this was a bit different. The exiled king seemed at peace for once. Like he was grateful to hear of a hobbit’s silly affinity for plants instead of a mountain kingdom to be reclaimed.
It was a sight Bilbo found himself having trouble looking away from. He willed himself to focus on the fireflies gathering around the bushes instead.
“Gardens were not to be found in the mountain,” Thorin’s voice softened at the mention of his old home. He always regarded the Lonely Mountain with careful, almost protective, thought. Bilbo’s eyes settled back on the dwarf and clung to every word. “Nothing grows underground, of course. No grass or soil to grow it, and there was no true light, save for the forges and fires burning.”
“None at all? Did you never go outside..?” Bilbo asked. He had known dwarves were the type to mostly stay underground, but such a concept still seemed so foreign to him. Hobbits were known to spend practically all of their time outdoors, and there was light everywhere he could remember. Thorin, however, shook his head.
“Dwarves in that time were born into the darkness of caves. They grew used to seeing rock instead of sky, and I was no different. From the moment I could walk, my time was devoted to training, watching my grandfather as he ruled so I could one day take his place. Learning of the kingdom and its people, of how to protect and serve them, everything a young prince must know,” Thorin explained. His eyes cast toward the ground as he hunched over, deep in thought. It seemed a painful memory sprung from his words without his meaning to. “There was no time for anything but such duties, especially as my grandfather’s health began to fail...”
Thorin trailed off with regret held in his eyes.
“There was little I knew of the world outside of Erebor’s halls, and that’s how it would have stayed were it not for the snake residing there now,” The exiled king finished with bitten words. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“I have no need of your pity,” Thorin’s words were said without malice. Instead, they were filled with shame, like he believed he did not deserve sympathy. Like this horror was his fault, somehow. “Especially from someone who knows a very different life.”
“Actually, it doesn’t sound completely different.”
The dwarf’s taken aback look was all he needed to continue.
“I mean, I certainly wasn’t an heir to a kingdom, but in the Shire you didn’t go much of anywhere else. Sometimes to Bree if you were the type, but that would get you odd looks from the rest of town, and by no means were you considered the respectable sort. In fact, I’m sure by now I’ve probably been declared mad beyond all reason, going off on adventures with strange dwarves and a wizard.”
The light brown curls framing Bilbo’s face bounced when he chuckled. Thorin found himself wondering why he noticed this.
“Hobbits simply don’t care much for learning what outside the Shire borders holds. We don’t get visitors, and we don’t do any visiting of our own. So..I suppose in that regard, I understand not knowing much else but what expectations you’ve been born to,” Bilbo finished with a hesitant smile. It was a smile simply for Thorin in that moment, reserved for his eyes and his eyes alone. And yet, the dwarf looked away, startled by its intimacy.
“I see both our clans have deemed us mad, then,” Thorin said, clearing his throat to hide the sudden topic shift.
“How do you mean?”
“The other dwarrow leaders called our quest a fool’s death sentence. I made mention of it before we left your home, but in truth they did not use as-- encouraging-- words as I led the others to believe,” The words of mockery bounced back bitterly to the forefront of his mind. “They believe we won’t make it alive to even reach the mountain. It is why we take on this task alone.”
Bilbo’s mouth twitched in thought again. “Well,” He began, “Perhaps they’re right.”
Thorin’s shock bubbled up instantly, paired with a list of insults in Khuzdul that he had half a mind to repeat from the aforementioned dwarrow council. The hobbit knew that look and raised his arms in defense.
“What I mean to say is, yes, perhaps you won’t reach the mountain, perhaps that’s how we’re fated to finish, but,” Bilbo took a breath, calmed his nerves, “It is still a noble cause to see through the end. And I know each of those who’ve followed you this far would agree. Anyone who doubts you hasn’t got the courage to see it as such.”
Thorin’s eyes softened. He looked down at the smaller creature, such a curious thing by anyone’s standards. A hobbit of the Shire, fond of books, green gardens, and the comforts of home, and yet it is he who has remedied his doubts of his birthright.
“...Thank you.”
Bilbo simply nodded. Even if he himself wasn’t fit for this journey, he truly did hope these dwarves would succeed. They’d all lost so much when their home was taken from them. Especially Thorin. Thorin Oakenshield, who’d braved unfathomable death and destruction and still stood, facing up against an almost impossible task. And here he was, thanking a small hobbit for mere words.
Their lives could not be more different-- and still, they were familiar.
A soft, shining glow from the middle of the garden grove brought their attention away from one another. Dozens and dozens of fireflies had snuck their way closer and completely surrounded the pair on the bench. Their patterns blinked and glimmered for all to see, with shimmering water nearby to exemplify the view. Thorin, surprisingly, was the one captivated most. His cobalt blue eyes shimmered from their reflection, trained on their light.
“Perhaps you were right. About us being raised too differently,” The hobbit mused. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched the king become a prince again. “I don’t remember being so enthralled by the nightly fireflies.”
Thorin chuckled. A small, but genuine, bout of humor. Honestly, it almost shocked Bilbo into the next age.
“Forgive me. I suppose I just never stopped to notice them before. Not in all my journeys across Middle Earth,” His smile lingered. Bilbo’s brightened.
They held such a gaze for some time in comfortable silence. At first meeting, Thorin had sized up the simple hobbit for a commoner, unfit for the wilds of the journey the company had planned to cross. And perhaps that was still the case. Only time would tell if Bilbo was truly a loyal member of this quest, but for now, they had this moment to share.
That is, until Gandalf’s voice was heard passing along the bridge mentioning the dwarven king by name.
#Bagginshield#the hobbit#bilbo baggins#thorin oakenshield#thilbo#thilbo bagginshield#the hobbit: an unexpected journey#Rivendell#Fanfics#lil bit of both canon compliance and canon divergence#obviously in my AU no one dies tho#did i mention the pining
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
♦ Anon asked ~ Okay how would guys and their darling react to being slapped by Eliza? Feel free to write for any of those who got slapped ^^ Gender is neutral
Aaa this one was really sweet so I did it for all guys (who got slapped-)
I reached my 10 pic limit and had to sacrifice twins ixkskxksos
[note : re-posted his because my tags weren't working]
♦♥♠♣
Poor boy remained silent for a few minutes after that mess with ghost princess , still unable to talk
His cheeks are flushed that proved him being embarrassed , making him look greatly...cute
Just as much as you loved seeing softer sides of him you can't see him this sad , so now it is your responsibility to lift him up
He is upset with both failing to help and being an idiot in front of Eliza
The whole thing proved how soft he can actually be , which fascinated you . You hadn't ever thought of him being like this ; shy and... helplessly childish with girls
Deuce is a bit worried with the way you see him now , he doesn't want his picture ruined . But as a matter of fact you like him even more now , he could be serious and strict at times but still , he's a soft boy inside
You ask if he feels any shy around you and it makes him turn his head away to add a nervous : " M...me? Absolutely not- why would I .??"
You now know that he actually does but it isn't something he needs to hide , that actually makes him look awfully cute
He still seems sad though so you give him a small kiss on forehead , making him blush even harder
Well even if he's shy with you you aren't ; after all he is your boy
Trey himself couldn't help laughing at what had happened. He tried his best to be a gentleman , and he really was . But seems like Eliza had more different standards than he was expecting
Trey's mind just wasn't ready to go from his normal self to a high-level prince , but he doesn't find singing a part of a prince's duties either
"My my , it really messed up," he says as he joins you and the others in the losers' bench
You knew that the proposal was all fake , but Trey just wasn't one who could act it all ; he didn't have Vil's pure talent of an actor or Leona's charm of a prince , yet he did his very best
You tell that you really liked the way he presented himself , pretty much of a mature young man he really is and he gets blessed . He isn't much of a romantic guy and he appreciates that you like him as he is
You give him a "Ghost bride surely lost a great option , " to lift him up and it did , making him wink adding : " Well, perhaps she knew that I have a better one myself ,"
Finally after posting 34 pics of his slapped face along with other supplies such as his fake tears , dead flowers and some broken-hearted captions with tons of #Ghostbride #Puishmentoflove #illfate #brokenheart and and and you managed to have him looking off his phone for a second
You tell how he's making an issue out of nothing but he'll just laugh : " Who cares that it's all fake ? Teens are gonna love it ! ,"
He must be thankful that Eliza didn't see this part pf him or he should've spammed pics of his broken legs and hands instead
He takes the best advantage of being slapped and you wonder how he's just being all excited about it , what if the same thing happens while he's seriously proposing to someone ?
You ask if it bothers him , the feeling of being rejected and he goes silent for a moment not looking at his phone but the ground now , perhaps thinking of an logical answer
You drop your head regretting what you asked and then , he cuts you off with a small kiss on your cheek : " That's simple , my dear (y/n). Not a single soul likes being rejected no matter what the reason is , so that's why I always make sure that I won't get rejected before asking ; today was just an exception ,"
You get a bit confused at the answer , wanting him to give you an example
He slightly smirks before adding :" Well , you didn't reject me , did you ?"
For the heaven's sake ; you couldn't be any more thankful that he got rejected . From the very moment they announced that princess was looking for a prince you feared of her picking Leona , a real prince
Leona is already prince charming of his home town ; Not a single soul could say no to him
The second he got slapped , his eyes - You were trying to feel sorry about it but the way he glared at Eliza as if he was a chubby cat pushed into water ; it was beyond hilarious
Leona has his own ways when it comes to attracting ladies , making him almost irresistible to many including you , but not the ghost bride
He seems really pissed off at the whole thing ; not that he liked the ghost bride that much , he just hates being rejected
With him being a growling cat for the rest of day , you decide to spoil him a little ; letting him take naps on your lap and rubbing back of his ears make him a whole lot better , but he won't say a word of satisfaction
You are used to his cringy behaviors and can't help loving them , you are really thankful that your cat would still be all yours - even if it was supposed to be a fake marriage
He just - Froze
Sword skills ? Were they a thing he lacked ? Was it just one of those royal fancy rules or could it be a serious problem ? He now was concerned
You found him getting slapped pretty unfair since not many these days are familiar with sword skills ; but there were no argues on that point since Eliza once lived as a girl from more than 500 years ago , so she surely ends up having more complicated standards comparing to you
You tell Jack about it and that it's fine , but he refuses to believe
He had heard of Sebek together with Silver being well-trained sword men which meant that this tradition still remained necessary , so he now is seriously thinking about picking it up
You couldn't blame him though , once he feels like he needs to be stronger that's it ; but you don't want him overwork himself
You insist that sword skills are pretty silly to him while he's got his powerful fists and the secret unleash the beast , but he still seems to have a doubt about it
Since he looks pretty certain with his choice , you don't try to stop him but you make promise that he wouldn't overwork himself , which he does
He intends to get stronger to protect his beloved ones , including you so there was nothing that could hold him back if it was because of you
♦♥♠♣ Jade Leech
Jade still doesn't get why Eliza didn't like the flowers , yes he didn't like them either but aren't flowers ladies' most appreciated gift ? How confusing , he thought
You slap the ice-pack against his face , just who on earth would give away unwanted flowers from his terrarium as a bouquet ?
Jade doesn't get why he shouldn't have , he was benefitting both himself and Eliza , right ? Or could that be that surface girls followed different romance traditions from underwater ? He needed more information then
He asks for ways to make a girl fall in love , which made you laugh , you told that if he's going to retry the thing with Eliza , he would end up needing way more than one ice-pack
He agrees with you on that point , so he wonders if he can practice tactics with you since you are a pretty gentle and calm partner , and it makes you blush
You tell him to focus on not being slapped again as long as this ghost marriage lasts and in return , you then can teach him some tricks with ladies
♦♥♠♣ Floyd Leech
He didn't really like Eliza from the very beginning so there was no way the two of them would end up together even if he wasn't slapped
Floyd isn't into this type of girls which are too strict and loud ; he prefers softer and cuter types , something he can dominant
You expect him to get moody and pissed off , but he just doesn't seem to care
thanks to him Jade as well got slapped -very hard- and that successfully lifted his mood up
You ask him if he wants to take a walk and he agrees in deal of you paying for his candy , and you gladly agree
The two of you have candies together and make fun of others getting slapped back there
Both of you agree on Jade's expression being way more hilarious than Azul's
When you finally get back to others trying to find a way , he whispers into your ears : " If I ever were to propose to someone , I'd prefer it to be to someone like you"~
Man , he's really pissed off. Talking too much will usually be beneficial while dealing on a contract , mostly because of the way it confuses dealers and gives them an unconscious vibe causing them to believe you ; strange yet helpful
Azul hadn't thought of proposing being this different from making contracts , and it was odd to him
He now is supposed to be looking for a way to save his boardgames club friend , but another thought keeps haunting him :
What are the correct ways of... making someone fall for you ? To attract a lady ? Isn't having a good face and using sweet words like enough ? He needed more lessons if he wanted to be an ideal dealer
You sigh as his serious replies , disappointed to see how he really had no idea about emotional terms
You tell him how life isn't always about business and benefitting , but sometimes about feelings and well , loving
He mumbles saying how useless emotions are , a waste of time and brain cells to him
You suggest teaching him more about emotional situations which may be helpful , and charming to others , which sounds like a great deal to him , but he doesn't accept you giving it to him for free, saying that you as well must set a price
You aren't really sure what to ask , so you just want him to invite you to a fancy dinner after having this case with the ghost bride solved
Just as you hear the sound of him getting slapped , you know that it was bad news
Vil is trying his best to be calm but...it doesn't really seem to be working . His fist's shaking in anger as if he's gonna slam it against the wall or maybe someone . He got rejected and he couldn't take it ; he
wasn't one to accept such a thing
Although he isn't a real prince , he had anything needed to be a real one : Elegance , Charm , Nobility and maturity ; he was perfect
He is really furious now , specially thinking at how Lilia intended to avoid Malleus from showing up in fear of his high chance of being accepted . He wasn't one to say that he would surpass Malleus , but he wasn't any lower than him either: if a dog was the only reason he got rejected then Malleus as well would've been...but wait- doesn't it mean that Idia too shouldn't have been chosen since he loves cats ?
In that case..it must've had another reason : He wasn't good enough
You knew that Vil would never be satisfied no matter how many times you told him that he was already gorgeous , he wanted to be better
It was useless trying to take his mind away from being rejected through the same ways so you had to sacrifice yourself :
You go to Vil asking is he can join you for a second -until others get slapped try to propose because you are having some... beauty issues
You try to get him talking to you as much as possible ,from importance of having an organized sleep schedule to forbidding laughing too much since it will bring you wrinkles
You know that if there's one thing that Vil would always be proud of , that would be speaking of his high-key beauty skills which he couldn't ever get enough of
He could go on all day if Leona didn't cut him off : " Oi , aren't the two of you done yet ?"
Even with Leona pissing him off , he now seems to be a lot better and that was a success for you . Even if he doesn't notice how you were trying to secretly lift his mood up
Lilia is...crying ?
Your heart melts at the sight of his soft tears falling down his pale face , making you as well cry
You don't know why you are being overly emotional but who on earth would slap others because just because of being too cute ?!
You can't help but to be mad at Eliza , wanting to punch her in the face just as she did to Lilia , but Lilia stops you , wondering why you might want to do such a thing
You angrily express how unfair you think what she did was , telling that she shouldn't be treaten las if she has the right to do whatever she'd like
"Just HOW is cuteness considered to be a bad thing ?!" you argue , loud enough to gain attention to yourself . Lilia takes you out before Eliza could've heard
He then sits beside you , trying to see what could've been wrong with you ; were you sick or just in a bad mood maybe ? He couldn't tell
" I'm sorry I just , got really mad with what she did and after you cried..." you mumble slowly , making Lilia giggle
" My my darling , I wasn't the only one who got slapped and also , I just cried at how my whole presentation keeps getting ruined by my... appreance . You know , it's a bit frustrating to be called cute after living hundreds of years as a terrifying dark fae ," he says , shaking his head in a playful manner
You are relieved knowing that he wasn't crying of pain or being heartbroken , and now he as well seems to be better
He asks of you're ready to return inside and you quickly agree , admitting that you might have been a bit too emotional
Just before you two get to others , he brings himself closer to ask you something : " You as well agree that I'm cute , don't you ?"
"How dare she- I see now why master Lilia didn't let master Draconia approach - this disgraceful spirits don't deserve having the slightest sight of him..."and and and were the words you keeped up with untill you grew tired which was 20 minutes later . You really wish him to have a turn off button sometimes
Sebek feels really offended specially because he was just about to get to the best part of his speech about Malleus but got slapped in face
The sight of his mouth getting shut as Eliza slapped him was priceless , perhaps she and Malleus were the only ones who had ever got to shut his mouth
When he finally cools down , his puppy side is brought up : " (y/n) , maybe I didn't present myself good enough in front of her and caused her to take young master lightly . Is it my fault ? "
You keep telling him that Eliza just didn't like how he brought Malleus out of nowhere and started to ramble nonsense about him when he was supposed to be proposing
Sebek doesn't take your comment as a polite one at first , bit he had to agree , maybe it would have worked out for her if this ghost knew who the great Malleus Draconia is and that was why it all went wrong
You sigh at how he doesn't get your point at all but you don't say a word , he deeply appreciated Malleus after all ; Thought Malleus had to be removed surgically from him
Since he doesn't seem to be giving up , you say that you'd really like to hear that best part about Malleus , making him flatter and start talking like a parrot again
You don't really care what he says or how great Malleus can actually be , but if that's what makes him happy you are fine with it
#twst#twisted wonderland#Deuce Spade#Trey Clover#Cater Diamond#Azul Ashengrotto#jade leech#Floyd Leech#leona kingscholar#Jack Howl#Vil Schoenheit#Malleus Draconia#Lilia Vanrouge#Sebek Zigvolt#Twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#Deuce Spade x reader#Trey Clover x reader#Cater Diamond x reader#Azul Ashengrotto x reader#Jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#leona kigscholar x reader#Jack Howl x reader#Vil Schoenheit x reader#Lilia Vanrouge x reader#Sebek Zigvolt x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#Ghost marriage
979 notes
·
View notes
Text
In Your Hands--Ch. 2 [Peony to Lotus!Verse]
[Chapter 1]
[This whole fic is the second chronological installment of the Peony to Lotus!Verse]
[First Installment] [Ao3 Series]
Yanli is determined to set about evening the exchange of their gifts after she finds a little chest full of her favorite floral incense on his pillow next to her when she wakes. She would like to collect information as he does, sifting through conversation to remember errant tidbits about interests but he is as frustratingly tightlipped on the subject of himself as he ever is. Agreeable to any attempt to draw out his preferences to the point of obfuscation. “Don’t you love this color, A-Yao?” elicits a kindly, “It’s very lovely,” no matter the color in question. She thinks it might be his way of not being a bother, because he certainly isn’t doing anything intentionally. Little does he know that, in reality, it’s making things more difficult on her.
I will know you, she thinks, watching him with keen eyes as they all eat breakfast together and talk. I will give you what you want, if only I could find out what that is.
He catches her watching and tilts his head, smiling in question.
“How are your dumplings?” She asks as an excuse, gesturing.
“Oh, very good. Would you like some more?”
This man.
His plate holds a bit of everything on the table, including one of A-Xian’s favored spicy dishes--while it’s something, she already knows he had grown up in Yunmeng and can tolerate spice. She just doesn’t know whether he likes it or not.
It has almost become a game, to her, if not to him--though she thinks it might be, at least a little, for she sees the flash of satisfaction in his eyes when he lets her take his arm and breathes deeply, taking in the scent of the incense she had let envelop her as she dressed that morning. “You smell wonderful,” he murmurs and she feels herself flush up her neck, even though it had been the whole point of steeping herself in it to begin with.
“Thanks to you.” When she lays her head on his shoulder--partially in thanks, partially to hide her pink cheeks--she feels him lean closer.
She wants to delight him, to see him pleased and surprised into a genuine smile. But more than anything, she truly wants to know more about him.
There is an inkling of a clue when she buys a guan for him made of graceful silver arches that form a lotus that seems to sit upon water that is reminiscent of the hair pin he had gotten her. When she presents it to him at bedtime, he seems surprised. He lets loose a soft, “oh,” turning it this way and that in his hands. Watching him, triumphant, she slides out her own pin and twirls it next to the guan, allowing her hair to begin its tumble down. “We’ll match.”
For a moment, he simply looks between the two ornaments, one hand coming out to slide his fingertips down the beaded chain of hers. Then, he smiles at her, and it’s wide and very nearly new. “We will.”
“You like it?”
“Of course, it’s beautiful! I will like everything that you choose to give me.”
She scrunches her nose and tweaks his cheek. “Well, that’s hardly fair! How will I know if you truly do and aren’t just pretending for my sake?”
Turning, he picks her hand up from the bed and chastely brushes his lips across her knuckles. “I will like them because you are the one who gave them, A-Li.”
And at long last, it’s something! Because she thinks it’s true. Perhaps, for him, like it is for her, it is not the usefulness, or the beauty of the thing, but the loving it was given from. She has kept the little drawings A-Xian has given her since he was young, the little carved creatures of wood and soap that A-Cheng used to whittle her (though, realistically, they are little more than blobs she was told are bears and the like. Whatever they look like, they are blobs of love.) She has them lined up on a shelf in her old room, and has brought a few over to the room shared by A-Yao. They make her smile to see because they were made for her; love in a little scene she can revisit through touch again and again. Sometimes, she simply holds them and remembers how it used to be.
This, she decides, is probably what she should focus on for A-Yao--a shelf of happy memories and the knowledge he is loved.
So, when she is sitting in her favorite pavilion one bright and breezy morning and He Si, one of the servants, delivers a gorgeous new calligraphy set to her and informs her with a barely contained grin that her husband has sent it, Yanli sets to work. After she unpacks and marvels over shiny new things, of course. It’s all sleek and beautiful and of the highest quality.
All morning, she uses his new gift to write him notes that she spends the afternoon ferreting away into places he will find them--like in his pockets or his desk drawers or under his spare boots. Some of them are little lines of poems she cherishes, one or two are shy sketches of the butterflies that had visited and twined through the fluttering, gauzy green curtains as she wrote, and more, still, are idle little thoughts she thinks will warm him. ‘I will be pleased to see you at dinner.’ ‘Remember not to work too hard.’ ‘Have a good day.’
She even gets the joy of seeing him find one while on a walkway, tucked in between 2 delivered missives with the help of He Si’s sleight of hand. The brisk, dutiful stride to business pauses and Yanli watches his slightly bowed head as he reads, the sunlight sliding down his hair like silk. When he looks up and around, she slips behind a delicately carved pillar on impulse so that he can’t see her. Then, she peeks back around. He’s looking back down at the slip of paper in his hand, his mouth a small curl of aching fondness. This one had said, ‘thinking of you.’ Warmth spreads through her when he folds it, neatly and carefully, into his fingers and presses his knuckles to his lips, closing his eyes. It is a moment of him with no mask in sight and she would feel sheepish for intruding if it didn’t bring her such happiness just to see his own. Even after he resumes his purposeful stride and disappears indoors, she is grinning, glowing, and allows herself a moment to seek out He Si to review the heist. “Did it please him?” the girl demands, excited. “What did it say?”
“It’s a secret,” Yanli teases. “And oh yes it did.”
It continues in this manner almost daily, when his gifts allow it; he gives her a parasol and she invites him on a walk under it with her; he buys rich embroidery thread and she weaves a delicate braid for him to wear or display a pendant from. He presents her with a fine silken handkerchief that she returns only days later, embroidered and thoroughly infused with the incense he had given her, draped over his pillow. Sadly, she didn’t get to witness this discovery, but she does see him slip it from his inner pocket as he removes his outer robes, that evening. As she watches him from the bed, Yanli resists the most absurd urge to bashfully pull the covers up over her nose and asks, “You...found it, then?”
Instead of answering, he slowly sits on her side instead of his and spreads it between them on the covers with deliberate care, one side of his mouth tucked up, that dimple pressed in sweetly in the lantern-light. “A pair of mandarin ducks,” he observes, voice quiet, eyes on the handkerchief as he runs his fingertips over it.
“I stitched them myself.”
“They are masterfully done and the colors are beautiful.”
“It was the thread you gave me. I wanted....” The intentions, the symbolism gets caught on her tongue and she blushes. Husband, she has to remind herself. It’s allowed! It’s expected! A long and happy marriage is what one is supposed to want. He makes the prospect of closeness and affection all at once so mysterious and alluring, almost a forbidden thing (though the thought is a ridiculous one, she admits.) “Do you like it?”
He raises his eyes to her and they are night soft. “A-Li, may I kiss you?”
Yanli’s heart jumps to her throat in an anticipatory sort of apprehension and her hands twist in her lap. Anxious without fear; she trusts this and him. “You may.”
Though she had kissed his mouth once before, he had been still, accepting the simple press and nothing more. Now, as he leans in, his hands settle lightly on her jaw, tilting her face up to him, his lips are a sure, gentle slide over hers. It’s odd to have someone so close to her face, and it’s warmer than she would have thought--not to mention wetter. But not bad.
Oh no, definitely not bad.
A-Yao kisses her with the same keen attention he gives everything else; controlled and intent. It feels as if he is slowly sampling her, sometimes the pressure feather-like and almost tickling, and other times an earnest press, inviting her along. The entirety of her skin grows hot at the realization she is being experienced and she can feel her heartbeat as if her entire chest is a drum. He makes it easy, a song that sounds vaguely familiar without completely knowing the next step. She doesn’t feel lost or stupid or silly. She feels wanted. Precious.
When he draws back, her lips are tingling--who would have thought such an ordinary part of her face could produce that much sensation? One would think she would have noticed this before!--and he is watching her carefully. His own lips are slightly pinker and without thinking, she reaches out to touch them, wonderingly. His watchfulness melts at her touch and he smiles against her fingertips--his mouth is warm, like her own when she lifts her other hand to compare.
“That was….”
“Good?”
“Oh, it was strange but I think I liked it. I--can we try again?”
A-Yao laughs and reaches out as she eagerly shuffles forward on her knees. Yanli allows him to draw her onto his lap sideways but, this time, she reaches out and draws him down. And being the good, patient man that he is, he lets her try again and again as she wishes, moving as she does.
There is no sudden revelation or awakening as she had secretly hoped there might be with such a kiss, (how easy that would have been, if all the whispers and stories and songs had all aligned with ultimate clarity and understanding within her, if it was all at once as easy as everyone else made it seem). But it is new and oddly pleasant to simply be in his arms, closer than she has ever been before, sharing with him. He pulls away and takes her wrist, eyebrows pinched. “You’re shaking. Are you alright?”
Oh. It seems she is. It isn’t fear, but instead a sort of deep trembling that seems to originate from her core, almost like excitement or the kind of giddy terror of a friend chasing you in a game of tag. She smiles up at him. “It’s...new. I think I’m just getting used to it. You’re my first kiss.”
Something she can’t define as positive or negative before it’s gone passes over his face and he gathers her up, burying his face in her neck, squeezing. She curls back around him, hands stroking his soft hair. “I’m so glad it’s you,” she murmurs, the ghosts of the kisses still shimmering on her lips. “You’re so sweet and kind to me. How did I get so lucky?”
Against her throat, he sucks in a deep, shaking breath before pulling back to deliver an almost perfect smile, the slight tremble in the corner of his mouth the only thing betraying whatever depth of emotion he is feeling. “Jiang-furen,” he says with playful reproach. “You simply can’t steal my lines like that. What will I be left with?”
In response, she clasps his face and leans up to rub the tips of their noses together. "Oh, you're so very clever. I'm sure you'll think of something."
#peony to lotus#yaoli#UPDATE CORNER HELL YEAH#This one is much less angsty than the first chapter (and that's saying something) but in planning...this has grown a proto plot#(I mean we have 2 maladjusted people pleasers trying to make each other happy there's bound to be a few bumps in the road)#So there's going to be a bit of sadness and a dash of angst in the future but I'm going to keep with the theme#This is primarily just going to be me giving them nice things because I can#And there isn't going to be any dumb and avoidable misunderstandings#There's going to be at LEAST 1 more chapter. Maybe 2. We'll see how much they wanna be all gushy and shit#my stuff#my fic
99 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
lenaluthorisasoftbaby
Hope, help and homo for all
djmusicbest
NEW RELEASE MUSIC
a-bold-departure
Beetlejuice The Musical - Musical - Musical
viktuuri-salami-blog
YOI • KS
muznew
Best New Dj Music