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councilofcastamere · 10 months ago

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WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

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a-lurking-fae · 6 months ago

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◇ SYNOPSIS ¡ — in which a girl is born, only to live in conplete and utter tragedy.

◇ WORD COUNT ¡ — 1.4K

◇ SERIES ¡ — BATFAM X FONTAINE! NEGLECTED READER

The sounds of a baby's wails plague the halls of the Wayne Manor, Richard Grayson— the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, who watches on his father's misery. His mother, well, adopted mother, has just passed away from childbirth. Her child (Name) is being held by their most trusted butler, Alfred.

Bruce holds his wife's hands as if it was his only lifeline, his screams of anguish mirror the infant’s cry for their mother. The night is filled with horrible memories, forever to be remembered.

────୨ৎ────

(Name) walks the halls quickly and quietly, afraid of the monsters that may take her if she is not careful. She opens the door to Jason's room. He was recently adopted by Bruce and was a delight to be with. Jason was her only refuge for warmth in this cold manor, although she was not oblivious to their… nightly activities.

She smiles at her brother, who just came from a mission, holding a book in her hand. “Hey bub! Do you want me to read you that one tonight?” Jason beams at you. A cute little sister to see him after he gets home? YES.

Jason lifts you to his bed, setting you near the wall to make sure you don't fall. He picks the book up and starts reading. After lulling you to sleep, Jason kisses your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.

Jason is dead. That is what you can think about. Your father held a funeral for him to honour his memory. You hold onto his stuff. Sometimes, you sneak in his bed and sleep in it. The remnants of him were preserved in that room. You wished he could have seen you sing the songs dedicated to him on stage.

Tim came into the picture. He saw you as a weakness in the family. You could easily be kidnapped, an innocent civilian never meant to be here. But he cared for you in his own ways, how could he not? You were a bit younger than him, a cute little thing with doe eyes and chubby cheeks.

He maintained his distance, making sure not to get attached. He never really knew how to handle things like family after all. Barbara came to the manor sometimes, although you both never really had much interaction. Damian came into the picture. He was cute but a demonic thing nonetheless.

Cassandra, Stephanie, and Duke came to the family, with them being Orphan, Spoiler, and Signal. You were pretty jealous of Cass. She always seemed so… loved. You truly wanted to bond with them all.

They always spend time with each other, and heck, Dick sometimes came to the manor to spend time with Damian! He had time for everyone except you. Jason? He's avoiding you like the plague! You don't really understand why though, did you do something you weren't aware of? Tim, the boy barely interacted with you!

Damian? Nope. Barbara? Too busy for you, apparently. Cassandra? She's a bit scary, but she's fine. Stephanie? Also too busy! Your own biological father (who should definitely just be called sperm donor), ignored the fuck out of you.

You went to the beach to let out some stream. After all, can tears be seen and shed underwater? You swim to the far sea, the waves soon taking you deep. You try to reach the surface, but you can't. You breathe and— wait, breathe??

You open your eyes to unfamiliar waters, you see land and quickly swim towards it. Coughing up some water, you see two men, a flying snowball, and a very pretty lady. You feel dizzy, your eyesight is blurry, and… you lose consciousness!

You wake up, lain in soft silk sheets that definitely beat yours. You look around to see some people surrounding you. “Hello, dear. I am Furina de Fontaine, the Hydro Archon, God of—” She gets cut off by the snowball, “Just get to the point already!” she huffs in the air, kicking in frustration.

“Fine, fine!�� Man in blue, My Iudex, Neuvillette. Man in black? The Duke, Wriothesly. Blondie, Lumine. Flying pet, Paimon.”

“I am not a pet!—”

Ms. Lumine— you believe, covers her mouth and takes her away with Mr. Wriothesly behind them. “Right, back to the topic, do you know this person, little one?” Mr. Iudex points to a painting, and you froze.

The painting looks hauntingly like the woman plastered on the walls of the manor— “Mom…” they both look shocked at your response, nodding at each other. “I am your grandmother, my dear. He is your grandfather. Do you think you could tell us what happened?”

“I… She's dead. She passed away after giving birth to me.” You look away. They're sure to hate you, too. Furina embraces you tightly, tears roll down her cheeks. The loss of a child is never light. Neuvillette pats her back, and you hear a light drizzle outside. It quickly becomes a turbulent storm, as Iudex weeps as well. The three of you embrace each other, unwilling to let go.

You eventually figured out how to get between the two worlds with your mother's diary. It was kept by Iudex, and not an inch of dust has reached its pages. You read about her adventures, how she ended up in Gotham, and how she decided to leave Fontaine.

“Your mother was a cheerful person. You certainly took after her the most. ”Neuvillettes's eyes softened at you. “My dear, do you truly have to return to that place? You could simply stay here—” Furina looks at you, you were an adventurer, she never really had the ability to keep you down. After all, she knew what that felt like.

“Nana, I like to explore, a trait from my mother. I have two vast worlds that allow me to see magical places. Who am I to refuse such sights?” You stuff your mouth with cake, it was your favourite flavor.

“The abyssal corrosion is taking me slowly, I believe I have enough time to explore more. That is my wish, nana.”

You smile at them, their expressions are unreadable. Neuvillette clenches his teacup, nodding at you. “If that is what you desire, then so be it my dear.” Tea time soon ends, and you return to Gotham.

You lay in your bed. ‘One last chance, then I'll stay in Fontaine forever.’ You think your performance was coming up soon. If they didn't come, then that is it.

The next few weeks were certainly nerve-wracking. On the day of the show, you get up on the stage, and do your absolute best. You sang your heart out like never before, people shed tears during your performance. They were nowhere to be seen. You should have expected this.

“Great job, (name)!” A stage designer came up to you, handing you some gifts from the crowd. You adorned a smile, pearls on your neck lit up at the lights. There are so many praises from people you don't know, yet not a single family came.

You return to the manor, quickly writing a letter to Alfred. You knew it couldn't be helped. You make your way to the beach, Alfred came home right when you left.

The letter sat on his desk, opening it shook him.

Dear Alfred,

It has truly been a delight to be with you. It is hard to simply leave you, so I leave you this letter. I hope that you may find your peace in this manor, thank you for all these years.

Truly yours,

– (Name) de Fontaine.

Alfred quickly went to the batcave, calling everyone on patrol. He accessed every camera nearby, trying to find you. Were you trying to kill yourself?

“Alfred?” Dick spoke first. The rest listened. “Ms. (Name) might be trying to kill herself, I'll try to find her.

Bruce is shook. What parent wouldn't be after hearing that. He doesn't know where to start looking, so he and Damian search the places your mother would go to.

Alfred finally finds you heading to the beach. You loved that place. “She's at xx-road, heading to xx-beach.” They all rush to the coordinates, hoping they weren't too late—

There you were, in a white dress, you could get sick in that! “Goodbye.” You start to turn to foam. They rush towards you, but they are too late. Your shawl floats to Bruce. He grabs it, trying to find a semblance of you. They'll find you soon, just wait for a bit.

You return to Fontaine, going to Palais Mermonia, munching on some pasta Furina made, as they both work.

────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────

NOTE : Whew, so that was chapter 1! I'm loving the gradient hehehehe. (If I learn more I will become unstoppable)

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iku-tihku · 29 days ago

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You're wife goes looking for you and finds that, unfortunately, you've walked into the sea.

Female Yautja x Human!Reader

Worry fills her heart to the brim. You are worthy, yes, that she never questioned, but her home was dangerous to her kin, never mind something like you, small, unarmored, unprepared, save for the spear that seemed to be missing from your shared home. A home she'd turned upside down as she frantically searched for you everywhere, first amongst the bedding, beneath every piece of furniture, amongst the trophies and shamefully, she would admit that she stuck her face into the ventilation of the house. Only when T'raka pointed out he'd seen you leave the nest some time ago, did she come to terms with reality that yes you'd left your home, and likely the encampment.

Con'feth's only respite were the still warm footprints you'd left behind, but the fact you were headed toward the sea alone was what worried her the most. Beasts of the land were difficult enough for her kind to kill, those who resided beneath the waves proved a greater challenge still. Thousands of her brethren had sunk to the sea floor in an attempt to fell a sea beast. Quick, clever, brutal, utterly merciless, no doubt how many saw her own kind. They were right, of course, except she'd shown mercy once, when she found herself on a small, blue planet, faced with one of its native inhabitants. It was a memory she'd often look upon with favor and a click of her mandibles.

The little foot steps wandered through the forest, avoiding the red swamps entirely, though no doubt it added no small amount of time to the journey. They'd stuck to the forest undergrowth, traveling on the wet patches as often as they could as to avoid heat traces, though leaving behind small trinkets, and hand built landmarks. Stacked sticks, broken branches, something they both could track, yet something a beast could not.

A simple trick, but one she appreciated nonetheless.

While they'd ignored her advice about staying close to the main encampment she and her people had built, they'd done everything else exactly as she'd asked, that, too, was some solace. With each step, there was a small, round divot in the ground, as to see if the mud hid any holes that might drown those unaware of them. Considering the few times the footsteps diverted from the straight path they were taking, it was clear there were more than one hole that needed to be filled up. The sticks near the holes indicated her mate had thought of the same thing. She was glad her mate was wise enough to listen, wise enough to think ahead, but she couldn't help but occasionally lament the fact that they'd also wander too far from the nest, nothing had happened yet, but, unlike her mate, tried to avoid the someday when something would happen.

'A kurn or two would be something to consider, if they were this insistent on walking into the woods alone' she thought to herself as she finally reached the shores of her home planet, and worryingly, her mates footsteps faded into the ocean, salt water and sand having filled the footsteps that went beyond the strand line.

Why?

Why, why, why on earth would you go willingly into the sea? Had she not told you about its monsters? Warned you of its dangers? The sea itself felt like a monster, as calm as it was now, it was unpredictable, ever changing, the calm could turn into a horrible storm in a matter of minutes, robbing the seaside of its peace, and sealing her mate beneath the waves forever more. She was faced with a monster she could never hope to kill, and her mate had willingly walked into its maw.

Why?

No time to wait, or ask further questions, she had to act if she hoped to have any chance of seeing them again alive. With swift movements her pelts dropped to the ground along with the gear that'd only weigh her down. With slight hesitation, she took off the jewelry you'd fashioned for her.

She turned to face the sea with a heavy glare, as if her eyes alone could turn the churning of the sea in her favor, as if her menacing look would make it spit out her mate.

By some miracle... it did just that. Just as the tide pulled back, there you were again, on all fours, holding onto something beneath the sand as the tide tried to pull you away, and something clutched between you teeth. Wasting no time she rushed to your side, plucking you from the heavy sand with ease and carrying you back to the shore before you could so much as even make a peep in confusion.

Your body was first check for any wounds, each limb traced over and search meticulously for any point of entry for infections. As the worst she found were small scrapes, she couldn't help but gently squeeze your cheeks, noting that whatever you'd caught was still between your teeth, choosing to ignore it for now, she could only ask "why".

You drop the fish in your hands, offering it to your beautiful, terrifying wife, "you said you liked these ones, so I went out and got one for you".

Oh, her little human mate. Blood of her heart. As much as she loves you, she couldn't deny the fact you also were by far the most stressful person she's ever met.

^ hunting food for wife, colorized.

#yautja x reader #female yautja #yautja x human #oc x reader #?#I mean she pretty much is just a guy I made up for this #she's so sick of ur shit but she loves u so its okay #like #she knows who she chose dw about it #shes sick of ur shit but wouldnt have it any other way #if the pronouns suddenly swap from “you” to “they/them” no they didnt. its almost 2am forgive me

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bunji-enthusiast · 1 month ago

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𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝!

Dante finds out something about you that made everything make sense.

Note // when a bitch remembers they can write anything they want to (me, I’m that bitch). This is just some self-indulgent comfort and he lowkey just gives off a gentle vibe. reader is deaf here, cause I am.

The first time he met you, he was confused. it was as if your eyes were glazed over, distant. you snapped out of it soon enough, but you never explained that strange circumstance. but he never asked, you didn't answer. besides, he normally wasn't one to judge such a thing. even if it was just momentary. in the cross-shoots of bullets and gravel dissipating to thin smoke, you always seemed to be somewhere else, not all there. Dante wasn't too sure as to why you were so faded out from your spatial awareness, not that he didn't defend you of course, it looked like as if you didn't want to even be there. it was odd.

("hey sleepyhead! think you can stay awake f'me?") it was his one little nickname for you, and it stuck. almost literally and figuratively as he narrowly pulls you away from the line of fire, ducking you beneath a stray wooden desk. you hated the stupid nickname, both because it was something you never live down regardless of the people you meet, and that Dante just gave off the impression that he was a cocky multitudinous asshole.

you rarely spoke, and only just proved your intentions through actions. it seemed faceted, as if you weren't so sure of the path that you set yourself own, self-imposed or not. every other hour, thoughts swam through your head, good ones, horrible ones. they simply don't stop. do you bring it up though? not really.

the mere thought of even bringing it up seemed so insignificant, unimportant.

though, one day, you couldn't escape the subject.

the weather was easy, nice and grey — carrying a hint of warmth to it for those who really enjoyed the dreary weather.

you had situated yourself on his couch, as worn as it might be. his apartment wasn’t a complete effort that would scream ‘rich’ but it’s still something else nonetheless. as for the man across from you…

the dust clouds had bloomed away as Dante had just dealt with a few intruders, bounty hunters or not, he didn’t really give a shit who they were. though it seemed the hunt for Dante and his necklace wasn’t going to let up, not for a good while. but that wasn’t what was taking the front of his mind, not right now.

“so…”

“what?” you replied.

“I’m not tryin’ to be… invasive here.” he begins, white brows furrowing as if he was trying to approach the incoming subject with a modicum of respect; rolling his wrist as he nurses a blooming bruise. you raise a brow, having a feeling as to where this was going.

"kind of already are." you shot back, and Dante half-heartedly winces at your tone. but he doesn't back down, deciding to continue as he walks over, the creaky floorboard bearing in the weight of his footsteps.

he rolls his neck, bones cracking in his wake. "you seem to zone out, a-lot." the hybrid enunciates with a raise of his brows, widening his eyes as if to really get the point across. Dante then shrugs, "I don't know, why is that?" he finally gets out. you paused in your small movements, crossing arms and rubbing at the skin at the forefront of your elbow.

the memories surfaces in your mind when you realize why he asks, and you sigh; "I'm deaf."

a silence fills the air as he registers what you bluntly put out into the atmosphere, and Dante doesn't know how to respond without making it weird. his eyes widen, in genuine surprise this time. the man doesn't know what to do, and he crosses the threshold to your side as he sits down beside you. he looks ahead, the cogs finally igniting in his head. he puts his face in his hands, now dragging them down as he mentally facepalms himself for now realizing it sooner. "that makes so much now."

"no shit."

"yeah, no shit!" Dante exclaims, suddenly shooting up in his seating with a proper posture. "couldn't you have mentioned this to me before?"

you groan, rolling your eyes as you let your head rest on the back of the couch. "I'm literally wearing a little machine in my ear, which, is called a hearing aid—don't know if you've heard of that." that and one other thing, lip-reading, you had to try damn well and hard to keep up with able-hearing folks to understand what the fuck they say half the time. but with Dante, he wasn't that judgy, he was surprisingly patient and was willing to help you understand the situation.

One example being: (you two were hunting down some demons together, and one was spewing off something inspid. possibly inspired by the vengeance in the name of it's demonic brethren.

"wow, I picked a bad time to space out." you suddenly say, tilting your head toward Dante as you held up your hand against the side of your mouth. "what'd I miss?"

"apparently Ilgron is taking over the family business." he says, flashing an amused grin, copying your actions.

"who's Ilgron?" you echo, arching a brow.

his expression just shifts into one of hilarity, fully prepared for what happens next, "just shoot whoever I shoot in a second.")

your snapped out of your flashback by Dante's words.

"I was sheltered for most of my childhood before I took up demon hunting." he replies with his eyes sliding over to yours, a half-exerted effort of shrugging one shoulder, "I sure as hell didn't have time for learning about all the neat little corners of good old life."

truth be told, he was a very energetic kid, wanting to play in the mud and forge swords out of sticks. he always bothered his brother Vergil for it, and he mourns those days. he was usually way too down in the dumps to actually want to have time for anything else. even then, he was carrying something bigger then just being that, human.

"you sure you actually had been in school? you could've ran into other classmates with a similar condition." and at those words, Dante reluctantly shakes his head. you were surprised.

"I did have an education, but it was always back... home." he admits with a small frown, slumping back against the couch.

you decide to shift the subject, sensing the forlorn longing that he didn't seem to want to get into, "well at least I know you don't have a small brain."

"hey!"

you snigger, almost giving way to a giggle, holding your hand over your mouth. "anyway, gotta be honest, I didn't think you'd take me being... deaf so well."

Dante shrugs, "can't help how you're born, right?"

your shoulders feel lighter, eyes brimming with thoughtfulness. "well put Dante." you said, something warm tugging at your lips. Dante smiles unabashedly at that, leaning forward and pulling at your arm, causing you to yelp as your sent crashing down on him.

"what was that for?" you groan as you shake your head at him, and his smile slowly transforms into a grin.

"you looked like you needed it." he honestly replies, and he readjusts you to lay more comfortably on him, like a languid teddy bear.

"curse you." you spit out.

"love you too." he replies with a warmer tone.

you sigh in defeat, laying your head down, right atop of where his own heart rests. feeling the pressing but amiable weight of his hand lay on top of your head, pressing a gentle kiss to the temple of your forehead.

you swear like nothing else had ever before put you asleep so easily.

#dante #dmc dante #dante sparda #dante devil may cry #dante x reader #dante netflix #dmc netflix #dante dmc #dante x you #dante x y/n #male character x reader #male x reader #fluff #comfort #comfort fluff

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amoeganism · 10 months ago

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HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi

(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)

~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak

Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:

The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)

An insane growth spurt

Probably shell shock syndrome

And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses

TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.

It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.

One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.

A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.

With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.

Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.

Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”

“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”

“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.

“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.

“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.

Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”

“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”

“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”

“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.

“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”

“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”

“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.

“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.

“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”

“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.

Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.

When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.

“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”

“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.

“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”

You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”

“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.

“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”

“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”

“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”

“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.

—

The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.

>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow

>i’ll need to try each ball out

>you did this to yourself

>shitty driver

A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.

Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.

“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.

You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.

“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.

“Can you give me the address again..?”

“You’re a freak.”

Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.

“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.

“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.

“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”

Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.

“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.

“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”

“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”

You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.

Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.

It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.

Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.

Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.

“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”

Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.

“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”

The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.

“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”

“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”

“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”

“Do you really think I care about that?”

“...no…”

“...”

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”

—

By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.

However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.

“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.

“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”

“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”

“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”

“I’m not asking for money.”

“Then what is it?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.

You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.

He really can’t wait to come home.

#itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk sae #bllk itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fluff #this fic is my farm fed organic almond baby

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taskforce420 · 11 months ago

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tap out. simon 'ghost' riley

it didn't take a genius to know that simon riley, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of his line of work. he was the shell of a man, a living ghost if you will; but people knew he was not one to be taunted or made fun of. sure he was a broken man, but he'd never take disrespect.

it did take a genius to know that you, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of your line of work. you were quiet, always kept to yourself, never caused much trouble, unless you were on the field getting your hands dirty- bloody even. no one knew about your past, your story. but you liked it that way.

so, here you and ghost stood. arms behind your back, standing at ease, looking straight ahead.

as of right now, a common army tradition was ongoing, 'tap out' it was called, where the soldiers stood at ease as they waited for their loved ones to tap them out, letting them move, talk, interact with their family etc.

your gaze slowly shifted from the ground, to the families crying tears of happiness as they saw their son or daughter again after months or years of them being gone. mothers held their sons close to them, fathers cheered and praised their daughters for their accomplishments.

and you? well, you stood there, wishing to yourself, that maybe seeing your mother and father pass away was all a dream and that you'd see them walking over to you any minute, with wide smiles and excited cheers.

and ghost? well, he didn't care about the fact that no one was there to see him, to congratulate him; he cared that you, his closet friend since the beginning of training, was stood there. alone.

he didn't understand why, but he could probably guess. nonetheless, he watched as you uncomfortably shifted your weight from one foot to the other. he noticed you didn't want to be there, didn't want to have to listen to the laughs and 'hellos' of mothers and fathers.

ghost could relate, he let out a deep sigh; letting his arms drop to his side, he moved from his spot. he knew full well that he was breaking rules but as of now, he didn't care. not one bit. he walked over to you, eyes meeting with yours almost instantly.

"come on, luv." he said, as comforting as he possibly could. he raised his hand to your shoulder, officially tapping you out. he could see the hurt in your eyes.

"thanks, si" he nodded as you thanked him, he felt horrible knowing your pain.

you let your hands come to your sides, subconsciously, you started to fidget. your rough fingertips played with the hem of your t-shirt. "its not fair that they make us do this.." you said softly, head hanging low, watching your feet as you both walked back into the base, knowing you had nothing better to do.

"mhm" is all ghost said as he looked down at you, clearly seeing your defeated mood. "i wouldn't dwell on it, sweetheart. i know what your thinking" you nodded, not really bothered to speak. you appreciated ghost walking with you though, keeping you company.

"your family is here now, us, me...soap, gaz, price. the whole force, your brothers, your sisters" ghost spoke. you knew he was right, you got along incredibly well with the members of Task Force 141, there were many years full of core memories with the lot of them.

like the time when you and soap got bored one night so you snuck out of the base and found yourselves at a water bank, completely soaked from jumping in. you both laughed uncontrollably as you splashed one another.

or even when you and price sat in his office, having a deep conversation about previous missions, his past, life in general. you two agreed that you had bonded, ending the night with a simple hug.

or that time when you and gaz decided to go a nearby bar, its safe to say that you both got absolutely hammered from the mixed alcohol in your system. you laughed with one another as you stumbled back to base, holding onto one another. laughing even harder as price and soap caught you in your drunken state.

or...or even the time with ghost.

when you two lay on his dishevelled bed, your back to his chest, his arm lazily thrown around your waist, holding you against him for comfort. his hand traced the scars on your waist, your hips, your legs. you stared out the window, smiling to yourself. nothing serious had happened...you both just adored the company of one another, which is why you found yourself falling asleep to the feeling his breaths on your shoulder, and his hand caressing your skin. "you okay?" he had asked you, moving to lie on his back. you had turned to face him. smiling when you saw him already looking at you, his arm rest behind his head. "mhm, always" you had softly spoke.

you smiled to yourself as you finally walked into the base, simon still by your side. "yeah..you're right" you said looking up at the large man. he happened to look down at you, you swear you could see him smile beneath his mask.

"i know..."

lemme know if you guys would like a pt. 2 :)

#call of duty #fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #task force 141 #fluff #cute #cutie patootie

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 1 year ago

Text

Picking Sides

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Cas & Winchester sister, Jody & Winchester sister, Mary & Winchester sister (all obviously platonic)

Synopsis: you get in a fight with Mary, and when Sam and Dean take sides you go to find someone to be on your side.

Warnings: feelings of abandonment, angst with a happy ending

You were hiding again. These days, it felt like you were always hiding. The bunker used to feel like home, but that home got smaller and smaller until the only place that truly felt like a sanctuary was your bedroom.

It didn’t feel fair to think that the arrival of your brothers’ mom took away your home, but that’s how you felt nonetheless. You wanted to be happy for them more than anything—your big brothers were everything to you, and they got back someone they had lost, someone they loved.

But that someone just so happened to look at you and see only the result of her husband with another woman. You knew it had to hurt—from her memory, it must feel like she’d last seen John only months ago, even though it had been over twenty years. So seeing his daughter—the one he had with another woman—being treated like family by her boys…that had to hurt. You understood that hurt, and you felt sorry for Mary because of it. But what you didn’t understand was why she had to make you hurt with her. Maybe she didn’t mean to—you couldn’t believe the worst about Sam and Dean’s mom, you just couldn’t—but it felt like she never wanted you there. And that disdain was starting to affect Sam and Dean. They could tell when their mom wasn’t happy, and it put them on edge. Because of that, tensions just kept rising until finally you decided that hiding out away from the common areas was best for everyone when Mary was around.

This strategy worked out well back when Mary wasn’t around much, but she’d been hanging around the bunker a lot more now, and it just wasn’t working. You couldn’t be in your room all the time, but any time you bumped into Mary the two of you seemed to get into a fight about something. Today was no different.

You only ventured out to get some food from the kitchen—but of course Mary had to be there.

“Where have you been?” She questioned, though she kept her voice low.

“Just my room,” you mumbled as you started to assemble a sandwich.

“The boys could’ve used your help, you know. They’re doing a lot of research.”

“I’ve got a laptop, I’m doing my own research.” You tried not to sound too snarky, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it came out that way…just a little.

“Well it would make things a lot easier if you’d join the group,” Mary chided. At this, you scoffed—you couldn’t help it.

“Like you even want me as part of the family,” you challenged.

“I said group, not family. You’re not family,” she insisted, her tone still neutral and her voice still low. Something about her trying to keep this horrible conversation nice and quiet just made you want to scream it all the louder. Unfortunately, you did it at the wrong moment.

“Says the one who hasn’t been here for twenty years! Don’t pretend you’re more of a family to Sam and Dean than I am!”

“Hey now!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your anger for a split second, and turned it to shock—you didn’t know he was so nearby. “That’s enough!” He directed his anger towards you—of course he hadn’t heard Mary’s words.

“But I was just—“ you began, but Dean didn’t let you get far.

“I don’t care what you were doing, I heard enough! Now I think you should go to your room.”

You took a deep breath, desperate to tell your side.

“But you didn’t hear—“

“I heard enough!” Dean was yelling now, and his sudden rise in anger had you taking a surprised step back. “Now go to your room! You’ve done enough damage.”

“B-but De—“

“I said go! And don’t you come out. I’ll come get you when I think you’ve had enough time to think about what kind of consequence your words have. Go!”

It wasn’t often that Dean looked so tall—he was always the “short one” compared to Sam. But now—looming over you like the shadow of a mountain, nothing but anger written on his features—no one had ever looked bigger, and you had never felt smaller. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pathetic, you felt tears start to prick behind your eyes. You twisted around and ran for your room before Dean could see them.

You made sure you were well behind your door with the lock in place before you felt safe enough to let the tears fall.

…

Mary was silent as she watched you run. There was a cacophony of thoughts banging around in her head, and it was so distracting that it took a moment for her to hear Dean talking to her.

“Mom? Mom?” Dean was right in front of her when she finally snapped out of it. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s been going on with her lately, but she shouldn’t have said that to you. I’ll talk to her.”

But Mary didn’t want that. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach. Ever since she had learned about your existence, she had felt almost in competition with you. Somehow, you being the result of John’s relationship with another woman made Mary feel as though you were somehow responsible for it, or complacent with it. Deep down she knew that that was wrong, but she couldn’t help the feelings. So instead, she had been justifying them, and using those feelings as an excuse for how she was trying to win the boys’ affection over you.

But just now, she had seen you for what you really were—not competition for her sons’ affections, not some sick reminder of John’s love being given to someone else taunting her; no. She had seen a scared little girl being rejected and reprimanded by her big brother and father figure, and it had been Mary’s fault.

“No, Dean…” Mary sighed. “I wish you hadn’t done that. She didn’t deserve it.”

Dean was confused. “But she—“

“I said some things to her that…well, let’s just say I deserved what she said. I mean it Dean, I screwed up, not her.”

Dean looked torn for a moment—after all, the only part he had heard were some awful words on your part—but then the scene replayed in his mind, and he saw you; your hands were shaking, your lip was quivering, and Dean had just kept on yelling.

“Oh man,” Dean sighed. “I need to talk to her.”

…

You didn’t let the tears fall long before you made a decision; you couldn’t stay here. You could deal with Mary not wanting you here, but you couldn’t deal with your brothers choosing her over you. That was the last straw.

You had a bag packed far too quickly, and you found yourself lingering in your room, trying to find an excuse not to go. This was your home—you didn’t want to leave.

Then an image of Dean screaming at you flashed in your mind—

“I said go! And don’t you come out.”

This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—it couldn’t. Dean had picked Mary over you, and it would only get worse. You had to go.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and went straight for the door.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice broke your stride for a moment, but you didn’t stop. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Out for a walk,” you huffed.

“I thought Dean told you to stay in your room,” Sam challenged. You froze for a moment.

“You heard?” You asked, hope sparking in the back of your mind. Maybe Sam would be on your side!

“Not everything,” Sam admitted. “But enough. I think you should stay in your room.”

Disappointment didn’t begin to cover what hit you then—Sam, taking Mary’s side too, without even knowing the whole story!

“And I think you should mind your own business,” you grumbled, going out and slamming the door behind you.

…

There was a cab waiting for you—you’d called one while you were packing—so you were already being carried away from the bunker by the time Sam followed you out the door.

The cab took you as far as the bus station, and from there you got on the first bus that would take you to Sioux Falls—to Jody.

You’d been praying to Cas since you’d left, but he must’ve been busy in heaven or something, because he hadn’t come. So Jody’s it was.

…

“I was wondering if you were going to show up.” Jody’s greeting when you arrived on her doorstep was less than conventional.

“What?” You questioned as she let you into the living room.

“Your brothers have been calling me every ten minutes for the past two hours, hoping you’d find your way over here. They’re worried about you.”

“I don’t know why,” you muttered under your breath, but Jody caught it.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Those boys worry over you like mother hens, they always have.”

“Not lately,” came your dull response. “Lately Mary’s more important.”

“Hey, now that isn’t fair,” Jody argued. “They just got her back from the dead. Just because their attention is a little divided—“

“It’s not that.” You huffed. “She doesn’t want me around. And they’re starting to take her side. They used to treat me like their sister, and now they…” you cleared your throat, blinking fast suddenly. “And now they treat me like…just John’s illegitimate kid. And I know that’s what I am, I just…I never felt it before.”

“Wait, kid…” Jody sighed, her hands coming up to hold onto your shoulders. “Kid, that is not who you are. You are so much more than that, and I’m sure if we talk to Sam and Dean, they’ll—“

“No,” you insisted, starting to panic. “I don’t want to talk to them right now, I just can’t. Please, you can’t tell them I’m here.”

“They’re gonna call again,” Jody said.

“You can’t—“

“Y/N.” You were interrupted by a flutter of wings and the deep voice of your favorite angel. “I heard you, what’s wrong?”

“Cas.” Your panic ebbed as you lurched forwards and wrapped your arms around Castiel. He held you close, quick to ask again—

“What’s wrong, what happened?”

“She ran away,” Jody spoke up. “Problems with Mary.”

“Oh, little one…” Cas sighed. “You—“

“Don’t tell me to go back!” You said as you pulled away from Cas. “You haven’t been here, you don’t know what it’s been like!”

“They’re your brothers,” Cas argued.

“But they don’t want to be. They want their legitimate family, and I’m not gonna get in the way anymore.”

“Hey.” Cas bent down to better look at you. “What makes you say that?”

“They just took her side.” You found it suddenly hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “De just-just took her side without even asking me what happened. He screamed at me, I’ve never-I’ve never seen him so angry before. He wanted me to go away, so-so I went. And Sammy didn’t even know what happened either, but he took her side too!”

“What did happen?” Cas asked gently.

You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Cas reached down and hooked his fingers under your chin, tilting your downturned head up to look at him.

“It matters to me.”

Your lip was quivering and your hands were shaking by the time the first tears fell.

“She said that I’m not family. I mean I-I always knew she didn’t want me around, but…” you swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to stifle your tears. “But she’s never been this mean before. She said I’m not family, Cas. And Sam and Dean took her side.”

“They agreed with her?” Cas’s face was scrunched slightly in confusion.

“N-no,” you admitted. “But when I tried to argue with her, Dean yelled at me.”

“You should talk to them,” Cas suggested. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“I don’t want to talk to them. Cas, please,” you pleaded.

“Alright, alright,” Cas relented. He was going to make you talk it out with your brothers…later. Right now you were too angry, too hurt. You just needed someone you could trust, and Cas would be that for you for as long as you needed before he could fix your relationship with your brothers.

“They’re going to keep calling,” Jody spoke up.

“Don’t answer, please,” you begged.

“Then they’ll just come here,” Jody said.

“I’ll talk to them if you don’t want to,” Cas said. “Please let me talk to them. I know we can fix this.”

You were silent for a moment, letting yourself process before you spoke.

“I don’t want to see them right now.”

“Then you won’t,” Cas promised. “Just let me talk to them.”

“Ok,” you sighed after another long moment. “But…Cas? Can you…will you…please just don’t take their side,” you pleaded. “Maybe it’s not fair to ask, I just…I just need someone on my side.”

“I’m on your side,” Cas assured you. “Always.”

…

“They’re here.” Jody’s announcement had you more nervous than you thought you’d be. The fear that Dean might yell at you again—this time for running away and disobeying him—was suddenly very real.

It was weird to be afraid of your big brother; it was unnatural for you. But you couldn’t get the image of him screaming at you out of your head, neither could you get the feelings it gave you to go away.

“Y/N?” You snapped out of your thoughts to see Cas standing in front of you. “I’m going to go talk to them, alright?”

You glanced out the window, hoping the sight of your big brothers might somehow give you a different—better—memory to focus on. Instead, you saw a third figure exiting the Impala with the boys; Mary.

“They brought Mary.” Your voice came out barely above a whisper, but still Cas heard and turned to look out the window.

“I’m going to talk to them,” he repeated, only this time his tone was devoid of comfort and filled with rage.

…

“You should wait in the car.” Cas directed his order at Mary, who looked taken aback.

“I came to—“

“If you value your immediate safety, do what I said.”

Mary retreated to the Impala without another word.

“What was that?” Dean demanded. He hadn’t heard Cas talk like that in long time—unless it was to a demon.

“Don’t question me,” Castiel barked. “Not after what you did. And especially not after you brought her—“ Castiel gestured towards the impala, where Mary was waiting— “here. Do you know what she said to your little sister?”

“I don’t—“ Dean began, but Castiel interrupted him.

“No, you don’t, because you didn’t ask. You didn’t get her side, you just yelled at her.”

“And I’m trying to fix it,” Dean said.

“Well she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Castiel crossed his arms in front of him, all but blocking the doorway. “You did that, Dean. Your own little sister is too scared to talk to you, because she thinks you’ll yell at her again. She thinks you’ll pick Mary over her—again.”

“Cas, c’mon,” Dean pleaded. “I want to tell her I’m sorry. Just let me talk to her.”

“I already told you—she doesn’t want to.” Cas left no room for argument.

“Look,” Dean sighed. “Just tell her I need to talk to her. Tell her—“

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Both Dean and Cas turned at the sound of Mary’s voice as she stepped out of the Impala. “Please Castiel. Tell her I was wrong, and that I’m sorry.”

Cas stared at Mary long and hard before seemingly coming to a decision.

“Come with me.” Cas led them into Jody’s house, but stopped them firmly in the living room. “Stay right here. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Cas’s departure brought silence into the house for several long seconds.

“Do you mean it?” Dean’s sudden question threw Mary for a moment.

“What?”

“The apology. Do you mean it? Because on the off chance that she actually lets us in there, and you get to say that apology, you’ve gotta mean it, because she’s going to know.”

Mary was silent for a moment.

“I do mean it. Look, things have been…hard for me. I know to you guys, your father had years to mourn me before your little sister happened. But for me—it feels like I just woke up, and suddenly I find out my husband had a child with another woman. It feels so wrong; but I know that it isn’t Y/N’s fault, and I know that I was wrong to blame her for it. And I see how close the two of you boys are to her—and how close she is to you; that’s going to have to be enough for me. So yes, I do mean my apology—I truly was wrong.”

“Ok.” Your voice startled mother and son, who both whirled to face you.

“Ok?” Mary asked tentatively.

“Well, no,” you amended. “It’s not ok. But I do forgive you.”

“Understood,” Mary said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “And thank you.”

“Things can’t stay the same,” you continued. “I can’t be treated like an outsider in my own family anymore.”

“I understand that too,” Mary promised. “Things will change—I will change them—I promise.”

“Ok then.” You sighed, your eyes flickering over to Dean. The silence went from contemplative to awkward very quickly.

“I’m going to go wait in the car,” Mary said quietly, slipping out the front door to give you and Dean some private time.

“That went well,” Dean said awkwardly.

“Don’t make jokes,” you commanded.

“I’m sorry.”

“You hurt me.” You forced your gaze not to waver as you confronted your big brother. “Not just because you yelled at me; because you picked her side without even listening to me. It was like I didn’t even matter.”

“Y/N—“

“No. It’s my turn now. It’s not just Mary that has to make things better at the bunker. I-I can’t live with being walked over or ignored because you guys choose her. I know she’s your mom, and I would never, ever ask you to choose me over her. But she would, and she has. And you’ve picked her. And that hurts, De.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to fall, but you refused to let that stop you. “It really, really hurts.”

“Sweetheart…” you were in Dean’s arms before you could even think about protesting—not that you wanted to. It felt like it had been forever since his arms had been around you—since you had felt so truly at home. “N/N I’m so, so sorry. I’m not gonna let that happen again, ever. Even if Mary goes back on her promise, and she doesn’t change things, I will. I’m not gonna let anybody walk over you again. You’re important to me—I’m never going to let anyone tell me to choose someone over you, never. I know that doesn’t take back what I did—what I said to you—but…but can you forgive me anyway?”

Your grip tightened on Dean, and he didn’t try to pull away.

“Of course I forgive you.”

“So…” you let Dean pull away from you, but he kept hold of your hands. “So you’ll come home? Sammy’s waiting with some ice cream and another apology for you.”

You giggled, wiping the remaining tears off of your cheeks.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll come home.”

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee

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alexthebordercollie · 3 months ago

Text

Excersize

Full scene below the cut.

Ford woke up early, as he usually did. He was always late to bed and early to rise. Four to six hours of sleep was plenty, any more would be an indulgence. There were always so many more productive things to do than sleep, like looking for ways to help his companion out of his funk.

Fiddleford hadn’t been himself since the gremloblin attack. He was jumpy and skittish, more so than he ever was before. Ford had mixed up the Rubik’s cube his friend kept on his desk days ago. Fiddleford never left it unsolved whenever he caught it scrambled. He’d solve it in a matter of seconds, no matter what Ford attempted. The fact Fiddleford had left it unsolved for so long was certainly a poor sign.

Meditation hadn’t helped. Something startled Fidds in the process, whatever nightmare was haunting him. He had a minor breakdown. Ford had no idea what he was doing. He was trying his best to be supportive, but it hurt. It hurt seeing someone he cared so deeply for so frightened and in pain, and feeling powerless to take that pain away.

A couple of days ago, Fiddleford had come to him with an especially worrying invention. A memory gun, something to erase whatever horrifying vision had fried his nerves. The machine was a nightmare of its own. It was horribly unsafe. The design was a far cry from Fiddleford’s best work. He was usually so thoughtful and secure with his designs. He was slipping. Ford hated to imagine what kind of damage Fidds could have done to himself if he’d actually tried using the damn thing. Thankfully, Ford was able to talk some sense to him, and Fiddleford disposed of the gun.

Nonetheless, it was a sign that Ford needed to keep trying. He needed to find something healthy that worked before Fiddleford resorted to something drastic.

“Rise and shine, bud. Time for our morning workout.” Ford smiled wide as he flicked on the lights in Fiddleford’s bedroom.

Fidds hissed and pulled his pillow over his head. “I finally got some sleep….” His protests were muffled under the pillow.

“Oh, that’s great!” Good to hear Fidds was finally sleeping again. “Then you should be rested enough for some stretches and a light jog.”

Fidds peered at Ford from under his pillow. His upturned nose poked out of the covers like a little pig snout. “Since when has it been our morning workout?” he asked wryly.

“Since today.” Ford rested one hand on his hip while he counted his reasons on his other hand. “I think it’d do you some good. A morning jog always helps clear my head,” he proposed, holding up a finger. “I think it would be fun to work out together.” Two fingers. “And besides, you’re out of shape anyway.” Three fingers turned to one as he pointed down at his friend with a mocking click of his tongue and a faux look of shame on his face. “Too many years away from the farm, I reckon.” He twanged playfully.

“Aw, now yer just makin’ fun o’ me!” Fidds propped himself up on his arms. The pillow slid off his messy bedhead in the process.

“Who me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ford batted his lashes and held a hand over his heart.

A pillow went flying across the room. Ford dodged it easily with an ear-to-ear grin. Fiesty. That was a good sign.

Fidds groaned and pulled himself upright. “Uhg… yer not gonna let up till I agree, are ya?”

Ford gave the question some serious consideration, only fully registering the sarcasm after he gave his answer. “Probably not, no,” he told him honestly.

Fidds rubbed his eyes and dragged his face down with his hands. He looked back at Ford like he was melting from his fingertips. He stared at him like he was waiting for something.

Ford only stood there waiting to see what Fidds needed.

“Well, git!” Fidds pointed to the door. “Least let me shower, shit, and shave. Danm.”

Ford chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Right, sorry. Put something comfy on and meet me in the living room.”

Fidds sighed and rolled his eyes. A soft smile tugged at his lips. Ford liked that smile. That mix of affection and exasperation. There was security in that smile.

When Fiddleford did meet him down in the living room, it was clear he hadn’t fully grasped the assignment. He walked past Ford, who was sitting on the floor, to go make coffee in the kitchen.

“Hey, over here!” Ford protested as he was ignored.

“It’s six in the mornin’, coffee first!” Fiddleford called back.

“Coffee when we’re done. Put the pot on and come over here.” He cocked a knee and leaned against it while he waited for Fidds. Wearing his workout shorts and a light black t-shirt. He already had his jogging shoes on. They were in better shape than his usual work boots since they were only used for these morning runs on well-worn trails.

Fidds, on the other hand, came back in a sweaty wifebeater and boxers with little red hearts.

“I told you to get dressed,” Ford scolded.

“I ain’t naked.” Fidds rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“You're not going jogging in your underwear, are you?”

“Yeah, that ain't happenin’.” Fidds sat down on the living room carpet next to Ford. “I'll meet ya halfway, but I ain't going for a run in a forest full o’ weird monsters before sun up.”

“The only anomalous creature you're likely to spot on my route is a gnome or two. They're harmless.” Ford dismissed with a hand wave.

“It ain't happenin’.”

“Alright, that’s fine. We'll work up to it. For now, let's just start with a light warmup.” Ford offered.

Fidds sighed but conceded. The exercises weren't anything too difficult. Ford wasn't having Fiddleford lift weights, and the jog had already been shot down. Even then, Fidds was struggling by the second set. He was far less flexible than Ford expected for someone so thin. Ford often found himself assisting, holding Fiddleford's body in various positions while he wheezed from the strain. Red-faced and sweaty and huffing.

“Breathe, Fidds.” Ford kept warning him. “You're going to pass out like that.”

Ford decided to wrap up their session with a sixty-second plank. A simple exercise. He just had to hold the position for a minute. It couldn't be easier.

“Back straight, Fidds.” Ford lifted himself up onto his fingers while Fiddleford was bracing himself on his forearms. Ford was outstretched parallel to his friend, observing his form.

“I am straight dammit!” Fiddleford huffed. His face turned red as beads of sweat dripped from his nose. He was, in fact, not straight. His rear raised slightly above where it should have been. Bending his body at an off angle.

Ford broke his plank and sat up to help him. “No, your ass is up.” He corrected gently. Despite Fidds' repeated bluster and frustration, Ford had remained patient with him. While he could no longer relate to the struggle, he still remembered how it felt when he started working out. That weak, impotent feeling, sweaty and winded and ashamed of himself.

He placed one hand on Fiddleford's stomach and another on his lower back. Slowly lowering his but till his body was a straight line from his shoulders to his toes. “There, now you're straight.”

A couple of seconds passed, and Ford realized Fiddleford had stopped breathing. His cheeks puffed up, and his eyes widened as he turned redder and redder.

“Breathe, Fidds!” Ford patted his back.

Fiddleford gasped as he freed the breath he was holding and struggled to suck in more air. “Please… tell me… we're done-” he wheezed.

Ford checked his watch and observed the second hand as it ticked by. “Almost. Halfway there. Just keep it up a little longer.” He rubbed little assuring circles into Fidds lower back with his other hand while he counted the seconds, holding his form.

Eventually, the minute passed, and with the final tick, “Now, now you can stop.”

Fiddleford gasped and collapsed into a sweaty, heaving heap on the floor. “Thank… the… lord… Stanferd… I… Hate… You!”

Ford looked at his friend and blinked briefly before realizing that Fidds was being facetious. He broke out laughing and patted Fidds' back. “Aw, come on, buddy. It couldn’t have been that bad. You did well.”

“Hogwash!” Fiddleford spat. Too tired to pull his face off the floor. He only turned his head with his cheek mushed into the carpet as he shot daggers at his friend. “Yer a shit liar Stanford. Don’t even try.”

“Alright, alright,” Ford apologized. “Look, there may be some room for improvement-”

“May be?!” Fidds bocked.

“I’ll go easier on you next time,” Ford promised.

Fiddleford buried his face in the carpet and groaned. “There’s gonna be a next time, huh?”

Ford merely smiled. He didn’t need to say anything. He knew Fidds could feel it from a mile off. Fiddleford groaned louder in reply.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddauthor #ford^2 #au #hand of god #papa ford au

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cast-iron-bug · 5 months ago

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I return from the dead with MORE ICE EMPEROR! HOW SUPRISING!!!✨❄️

Thought I’d finally share my head cannons for this creature and for how the staff of forbidden spinjitsu works so HERE WE GO-

❄️ when each ninja holds the staff, their elements burst to life all around them, most notably through their hair. Lloyd and Kai’s looks same as the show, though Kai’s hair is smoldering a bit more and smoky, and Lloyd’s is flickered with gold. Everyone else is different! Nya’s hair swirls with clouds and mist like a brewing storm, jay’s hair stands on end as the lightning makes the lights flicker, and Zane’s hair floats and glitters like the northern lights, leaving lil flurries behind him as he walks! This effect looks even cooler when he grows his hair out as the ice emperor.

✨when Zane crash lands into the neverrealm, the fall leaves a serious wound on his right temple. This badly damages his right eye, making his vision unpredictable and his eye noticeably glitching out.

❄️ Zane was built to be as convincingly human as possible- because of this he mimics different symptoms to communicate what kind of damage he has. For example, when he has malware or a virus, Zane will run a fever, cough or sneeze. He shivers on the rare occasion his powers become too overwhelming and, in the case of the fore mentioned head trauma, Zane will show concussion symptoms- such as his pupils being “blown” (two different sizes). Also yes his hair does grow. He doesn't know how to take care of it as the emperor so it grows tangled and matted but it grows nonetheless

✨the effects of the scroll are a slow burn! Sure the effects are noticed almost immediately, but the damage it does is slow and not easily reversed: therefore contributing to my “Zane does not turn back into “Zane” after he drops the staff” bit! The effects linger- Zane’s hair flickering with power when he’s upset, his powers responding in a similar way to season one- where he’d freeze the training grounds over. He leaves frozen footsteps wherever he goes, freezes over on occasion(mostly along his face when he cries) and if you were to tousle his hair it’d start snowing indoors. ❄️ I love the “Zane committed active genocide alongside vex and is horribly traumatized by it” trope I see in fics a lot, but I also found myself wanting to work with the concussed, sleepy boi we got in the show! So Im developing an AU that meets sort of a middle ground: with Zane participating in the first decade or two of war, but slowly becoming sicker and more manic and paranoid the further into his rule he goes. When he is not asleep, the emperor is pacing the castle in unrest, the walls creaking as he spirals in the warped memory of the lies vex had told him and the realm continues to freeze solid.

That’s all I got for now! Feel free to use any of these in your own works- just be sure to tag me bc I’d love to see it! I’ll be adding to this and tweaking it as I develop this au more… in fact lemme know if any of y’all come up with a name for an au like this!

….and if you read this far- holy guacamole thanks I guess!

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howi99 · 2 months ago

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From the Nest 22

- morning -

Jaune: *sigh, looking at the empty spot where team RWNY usually sit* ... I hope Weiss is alright-

Weiss: *opening the doors of the cafeteria dramatically, then spotting Jaune* ... *Walk towards him, without a word*

Jaune: *wince* Weiss, i'm sorry for what i said yesterday and-

Weiss: *slamming down her palm on the table, looking him straight in the eyes* Jaune, i need you to come with me!

Jaune: *blink* ... Sorry?

Weiss: *sigh* I talked with my sister yesterday; Seems like everything you said was true!

Blake: *rolling her eyes, mumbling to herself* So when the faunus told you it was fake news, but when a human does it's true?

Weiss: *confused by Blake hostility* I don't- that's not- why do-

Blake: *sigh* Nevermind, carry on.

Weiss: I-... *shake her head, looking back at Jaune* I'll cut to the chase; l need to learn how to fight without dust! *Bit her lip* I... I can't, in good conscience, continue to support my father's actions and-

Jaune: *Panicking* Woah! Weiss! You don't have to change your fighting style because of your father! That's suicide!

Weiss: *looking down* But what he does is horrible and-

Ren: *calmly pat her back* Weiss, i know your company as the quasi-monopole of the industry, but there are still others you could buy from.

Weiss: *sigh* Like who? I never heard of anyone else who weren't scams.

Nora: *lighting up* Oh, there's the CDC! They aren't big, but that's where me and Ren bought our dust from!

Jaune: *smile* Oh yeah, those guys! They bought back some of the camps we kept raiding. *Nod* They ain't bad.

Weiss: *confused* The CDC? *Pensive* I... Don't think i ever heard of them.

Blake: The Coal Dust Company is the only dust company allowed to trade with Menagerie. *Shrug* Since most of their clientele are faunus, that's probably why you never heard of them; they aren't competing with the SDC.

Weiss: *pensive* I see... *Shake her head* Nonetheless, i wish to learn how to fight without relying solely upon dust.

Jaune: *sigh* Weiss, i don't know why you think i should be the one teaching you how to fight without dust considering i rely on it constantly.

Weiss: *confused* What do you mean?

Jaune: *removing his boots* Look inside.

Weiss: ... *Sniffing them, turning slightly green* They smell...

Jaune: *rolling his eyes* You don't have to put your nose inside! Look at the fabric inside!

Weiss: *taking a look* ... Gravity dust?

Jaune: *taking back his boot* I can't Jump like any of you; my aura control is atrocious. So instead i use these to be an immovable object. And that's the case with almost all of my fighting gears.

Blake: *frown* But your semblance-

Jaune: *cutting her* My INNER aura control, i meant. *Manifest his aura, reaching all around him up to 2 meters* I'm a master at projecting my aura outward, but inward? *Shake his head* I can heal myself and... *Shrug* that's about it.

Nora: *looking at her leader with a puzzled expression* You smashed Cardin through a table and then literally threw him hard enough to break a SECOND table! How-

Ren: *nonchalantly* Jaune is ripped.

Everyone: *look at Ren*

Ren: ... What? You do realize we change together, right?

Blake: ... *Picking up her notebook* How ripped are we talking about?

Ren: *pensive* Hm... I'd say enough to make Nora or Yang blush.

Nora: DAMN! *Look back at Jaune with a grin* Sleeper build much, eh?

Weiss: *frown* But that doesn't make any sense! Outward manifestation is far harder to master!

Jaune: *Sigh* From what my teacher told me, it's due to the way i unlocked my semblance. *Cutting Nora before she could say anything* And before you ask, i'm not going to say how i unlocked it. Bad memories.

Nora: ... *Smile gently with a nod* It's fine, i understand.

_ _ _

Weiss: *sigh, walking back towards the dorm* Who should i ask? *Sigh again* Jaune's out, i certainly can't fight like Yang, so who-

Pyrrha: Hey, Weiss!

Weiss: *looming at Pyrrha, who was walking towards the gym* Oh, hey Pyrrha...

Pyrrha: *tilting her head* Is everything alright?

Weiss: *sigh* Yeah, i just... I asked Jaune about tips to fight without dust, but that was a bust.

Pyrrha: *smile gently* You still don't want to use dust anymore?

Weiss: *shake her head* They made me change my mind on that, but i still think i should diversify my arsenal, you know? *Chuckle awkwardly* I mean, you don't use dust at all and yet you can kick everyone's butt so easily.

Pyrrha: *shrug* I don't mind helping you out, you know? Showing you the ropes.

Weiss: *frown, looking at Pyrrha* You... Don't?

Pyrrha: *chuckle* Why would i? We are friends!

Weiss: *blink* We... are?

Pyrrha: *confused* We aren't?

Weiss: *shuffle in place* I-i mean, i just... I thought you didn't really like me much. You weren't really thrilled by me being in your team, right?

Pyrrha: *scratch her neck, looking a bit guilty* Well, you were kinda... Intense, before initiation. But since then? *Smile* You never acted as if i was different from anyone else. *Sigh* Honestly, i was just afraid you'd put me on a pedestal.

Weiss: *confused* Why? You're good, but i'm pretty sure my sister could still beat you without problems. Or any real huntsman who deserves the title for that matter.

Pyrrha: *laugh* Not wrong there! *Sigh happily* Anyway, wanna join me for training? Yang's already waiting, but i doubt she'd mind you joining us.

Weiss: *nod with a wide smile* Of course! Let me grab my gears and i'll be right there!

#jaune arc #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #rwby #rwby au #from the nest au

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digonthis · 7 months ago

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Catered Audience- Pt. 1

Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

2.2k words

( ᴅᴍ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴀɢ :] ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴍɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴏ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʟᴍᴋ ɪʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪғ ɴᴏᴛ ɪʟʟ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴄᴄ ᴛᴏ sʜɪᴛᴘᴏsᴛ ɪɢ? ɪᴅᴋ )

slow burn-ish, fluff, mutual pining, all that shit

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧♡‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

You smile as you sit at the bar and a glass of your favourite drink is immediately placed in front of you. This dump had been your go-to spot for the last forever. Your name, order, and horrible singing on karaoke night was well-known by all the bartenders and plenty of the other patrons, one of which who sat in the stool next to you a few minutes later.

Josh pushed his glasses up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. As he takes a sip of his beer, you place your chin in your hand, leaning down onto the bar a little. “Long day?”

He nods slightly, tongue poking out to lick the froth from his upper lip. “Work’s been a lot lately, been on overtime filming… I love food but the idea of cooking anything after work is too much, and so beer dinner was born.”

This makes you laugh and nod as he chugs the remains of the beer down, leaving only traces of foam in the glass. You think of your own work, a self-run catering business, and let out a short sigh. “At least you’ve got work to do, I seem to be the only person I cook for at all.”

“I’d buy dinner offa ya, i’d buy dinner for the whole mythical crew if it’d mean I don’t have to make it myself…” Josh admits as he starts on another beer. The idea makes you chuckle a little, but as your eyes meet his you don’t see any humour, only exhaustion. “I mean… if you’ve got a work party or somethin’ you know i’m always free…” You offer carefully, not wanting to sound too desperate.

A few weeks later, you push the door to the Mythical studio open with your back, arms plentifully filled with huge trays filled with piping hot food. Josh trails behind you, carrying even more, shouting out directions and greetings to his coworkers as you pass them by, all captured and excited by the smell of the food you’re bringing in.

The first of many orders went over well, to the point that everyone on Mythical knew your name. Parties, events, and even just long filming days kept you busy with plentiful orders and generous tips, but Rhett and Link knowing your name and personally greeting you the last few times you’d come in had been what really made the gig. Hanging around after deliveries became natural, making friends, chatting, and blushing at everyone’s compliments on your cooking and hard work. Mythical became like a second home, you could never imagine any other job or quitting this one.

You almost quit the day Josh asked you to be in a video. Just at the end- a part of a taste test compilation of people trying his latest kitchen experiment for a Mythical Kitchen video, but he didn’t push the idea after he saw how wide your eyes got and how your hands started to shake a little before you shoved them deep in your pockets. The idea of being on camera in front of potential millions… it was not for you.

Josh had that air about him. Confident, genuine, unbothered. The kind of person who could look a lens in the face and convince anyone that he was all that and more, even if he didn’t know who exactly was behind there.

You jolt back to life as an eggshell falls into your mixer as you crack in an egg, snapping back to the present after your little brain spiral. You fish it out with a spoon before tossing it into the sink, grabbing a glass of water to hopefully clear your head up as you finish your latest order. The giant cake Josh had requested had you curious, you knew from memory that it was far too many servings even for everyone at mythical, almost double that. Nonetheless, when you double and triple checked Josh was confidently sure he got the order right.

The delivery spot for this one was a big banquet hall, nowhere near the studio. A little out of the usual, but nothing crazy. Josh, as usual, helped you bring in all the cake layers, and very unhelpfully watched as you stacked them all, gasping and jolting as you placed each, stressing you out to the point you made him put the last few on himself.

“What do you even need such a big cake for, it’s so unnecessary for the size of the company…” You ask as he puts the top layer on delicately, whispering his response as he focuses on the task. “We bought another company, this is a celebration kinda welcome party thing…” He breathes out. You relax your tensed-up jaw as you see the last layer goes on smoothly, gathering up all the boxes and placing the serving knives on the table.

“You’ll at least stay for a few drinks, right?” Josh asks as he backs away from the cake, admiring your work. “The bosses went all out on this party and I'm sure they’d be happy if you stuck around… and I hear there’s a prosecco fountain.” He adds, knowing exactly what to say to tempt you. It almost works, but your tired body and even sleepier mind win out over the idea of unlimited free drinks and partying. Josh protests all the way to your car, flipping you off as you drive away back to your apartment- and more importantly your bed.

As you snored and drooled all over your pillow, shitty Nickelback blasting from your phone, the same song played at the welcome party when one of the new editors got a hold of aux. A few groaned and many laughed at the song, dancing, mingling, and celebrating the purchasing of Smosh. The cake was a hit, Josh was sure to hype up his catering contact to anyone lingering by the table including the new company employees who hadn’t been acquainted with your cooking yet.

That time next week, you were buying Josh’s beer at the bar as a thank you. He’d secured you a catering gig with the new subsidiary, a channel called Smosh with just as large and rambunctious a crew as Mythical with far more on-camera personalities to get to know. You had only seen a few videos in passing but liked what you found, general comedy, fun, and games. With Smosh and Mythical both committed and regular customers, you were stretched thin with all the catering work, but extremely happy and grateful for it. Working a little harder was all worth it for the regular praise, thanks, and pretty penny you’d been making as of late.

Between hanging around the Mythical studios and Smosh, you were barely home anymore unless you were cooking something to bring right back there. Selina, who’s job you just considered to be the mom of Smosh, was a friendly face you could always count on to greet you. Chatting about the weather and sneaky food requests soon turned into office gossip and personal drama retellings, you could always count on her for a good chit chat whenever you were pulling up with food for the office.

You let out a huff as you lifted a particularly hefty tray onto a higher counter, Selina nearby idly relaying all the events of this particularly busy filming week. Long shoots, long days, and an exhausted cast and crew meant plenty of funny, juicy, and sometimes scandalous events to recap. As the door hinge squeaks open, you don’t have time to look to see who is walking in as you’re busy getting all the food set up. Selina pauses for a minute before continuing her little rant, and you hear the other person laugh and chime in on the story. You turn your head to meet smiling eyes, one of the crew members. Kiana was eager to join in on the gossip, and you caught yourself lingering behind even as cast and crew alike filed into the room to grab some dinner.

The three of you sat off to the side joking and laughing, but you found that they had much more to contribute gossip-wise than you did. Working all alone meant no employee conflicts, so a juicy story was just double the excitement to you. Your work could be lonely at times, so soaking up the positive energy from all the new people at Smosh had definitely done you some good.

The next time Smosh had a tough filming week, you were a little more prepared. Huge orders like that meant plenty of gossip so you’d cleared your evening for the hell of it, and the smile Selina threw at you as you carted in a heavy ass trolley of food told you it’d be a feat worth the reward. You were surprised to find Angela, an energetic and spunky cast member you hadn’t really met formally, rooting through the fridge. She smiled when she saw you, and that grin only grew wider at the sight of the food you’d brought with you. “Hell yes! Did you bring dessert again?” She asked excitedly, closing the door with a drink in her hand. You smiled at this, nodding.

“Tres leches cake and sugar cookies~” You tease, placing the dessert trays onto the counter first and gesturing to them with a welcoming grin. “The corners of the cake are always the best, in my opinion. I’d go dessert first today if I were you.”

Soon later, Angela and Selina were both sitting at the table with generous slices of cake, telling a wild story of some employee crossovers and trading between Mythical and Smosh. While you were engrossed in the story, you couldn’t help but wonder where everyone else was. Usually by the time you were done setting up, you had a few hungry people hovering around or at least heads peeking into the room, but the building seemed like a bit of a ghost town.

“You keep looking around for people, but I think everyone without something to do right now is sitting in on the shoot.” Selina says, a keen eye reading your thoughts. Mention of said shoot made Angela giggle though a mouthful of cake. She brought up one of the editors, a super funny guy who hadn’t been on camera all that much but could have everyone in tears laughing whenever he did get the chance. Word had spread that he was doing a character for a video today, and was outshining all the regular cast members in the shoot with his jokes.

In a minute Angela had finished her cake and tossed the paper plate, linking arms with you. “Have you seen a shoot yet? I gotta get an eye on this but I don’t want you running away yet…” She says with a devious grin as you shake your head no. It had always been a curiosity of course, seeing the behind-the-scenes of everything, but you’d never been keen on intruding on something important like that. Angela’s mind seemed void of anything like that as she cheerily led you to a set, the sounds of laughing and cheers guiding the pair of you two.

Your hesitation melted away as you heard… Limp Bizkit lyrics. Why were you hearing this? Was that guy supposed to be Fred Durst? Darts? Why are there fake birds??? The absurdity of it all quickly overtook your anxiety of intruding on this shoot, Angela leading you to an area off to the side where familiar faces sat and laughed at the entertainment. A few people recognized you with smiles and waves, some others were too engrossed in the jokes. You had to force your eyes away from the set to look over the crew and tech of it all, huge cameras and elaborate microphones, smiling faces behind the workings of it all. You knew you’d kick yourself later for not really taking it all in, but you couldn’t tear your focus away from the cast and their shenanigans, specifically the horrible fred durst impersonator. You knew this must have been the editor Angela was talking about, but you almost couldn’t believe someone this funny and lively isn’t a full-time actor.

You snapped yourself out of the daze of laughing and enjoying the shoot when you caught a glimpse of the time on your watch. You squeezed Angela’s knee appreciatively before slipping out of the room, having lost track of time. You found Selina at her desk again and couldn’t help a quick stop to gush about how funny this guy was. Spencer, who’s name she provided, was apparently one of the coolest guys around the office. You couldn’t help but show Selina the little Limp Bizkit pin on your bag, giggling with her about it before you leave for the night, far behind schedule.

You threw on your old Bizkit vinyl for the hell of it when you finally got home, humming along and fighting a smile any time the stupid bit came to your mind. It was obviously meant to appeal to a niche audience, one you definitely fall into. You spend the rest of the evening on a new order requested from Smosh, one that definitely had you excited. Mumbling along lyrics you were surprised you could still remember, you got started on a long night of work.

Part 2 >>

#smosh #smosh games #smosh fanfic #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew #spencer x reader #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #smosh x reader #smoshblr #spencer smosh #proofreading is for the weak

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hisfavegirl · 7 months ago

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part 2 of the queen grief? it’s soooo good😭

My happiness - King! Aegon II Targaryen x TwinSister!Reader.

summary: you try to get up and come back for your two children after the tragedy, you also find out some good news that makes you even happier.

The days after your son’s funeral blurred together in a haze of grief. You withdrew from the world, confining yourself to the quiet solitude of your chambers. You avoided the bustling halls of the Red Keep, the courtiers, and even the council meetings. The thought of facing anyone, of moving on as if nothing had happened, felt impossible.

Your husband, Aegon, and your mother, Alicent, grew increasingly concerned. Aegon would visit your chambers often, trying to coax you to eat or speak with him, but you rarely responded. Alicent, ever the pillar of composure, would sit with you in silence, her worry evident in the way she lingered longer than usual.

Most days, you spent hours on the balcony of your room, gazing up at the endless sky. The soft breeze would tousle your hair as you looked at the clouds and the stars, imagining your sweet Jaehaerys among them.

Sometimes, you would speak softly, your voice carrying into the air as if you were speaking to him.

“Do you see me, my love?” you would whisper, your eyes glistening with tears. “Do you hear me when I call for you? Are you happy there? I hope it’s warm, and you’re not alone.”

Your words hung in the air, unanswered, but you continued nonetheless. It was the only comfort you could find—the idea that somehow, your son could hear you, that he was still close in some way.

The loneliness in your chambers was deafening, but in those quiet conversations with the sky, you felt the faintest echo of peace, however fleeting it might have been.

You kept your gaze fixed on the horizon, your eyes unseeing as you stared into the distance. The soft knock on your chamber door barely registered, and even when Aegon’s familiar voice called your name, you didn’t turn.

“Please,” he said gently, his voice tinged with worry and sorrow. “Let me in.”

But you remained silent, your hands gripping the edge of the balcony railing as if it were the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

Aegon opened the door, his footsteps hesitant as he approached. “You’ve been here for days,” he continued, his voice soft but insistent. “Jaehaera and Maelor… they miss you. They need you.”

At the mention of their names, your grip tightened, your knuckles turning white. A sob tried to claw its way out of your throat, but you swallowed it down. You couldn’t face them—not yet.

You closed your eyes, and the memory hit you like a wave, dragging you back to that horrible moment. The screams, the chaos, the sight of Jaehaerys’ lifeless body. And then, Jaehaera’s cries—the way she clung to you, trembling, begging you to make it stop. You could still feel her small hands clutching at your dress, her sobs echoing in your mind.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking as tears slid down your cheeks. “I can’t see them. Not after… not after what happened. I hear her crying, Aegon. I can still hear her crying.”

Aegon knelt beside you, his hand resting gently on your arm. “You’re not the only one hurting,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “They lost him too. Jaehaera… she doesn’t understand why you’re not there. She thinks she’s lost you as well.”

His words pierced through your numbness, and for a moment, you faltered. But the weight of your grief was too much. You shook your head, pulling away from his touch.

“I’m not ready,” you said, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

Aegon’s shoulders sagged, but he didn’t press you further. Instead, he stayed by your side, silent, watching the sky with you as if hoping that his presence alone could anchor you to the world you were trying so hard to leave behind.

Aegon stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid any sudden action might shatter you further. He crouched by your chair, his violet eyes searching your face for any sign of life beyond the grief.

“Come here,” he murmured gently, extending his hand toward you. “Please, just sit with me.”

For a moment, you didn’t move, your gaze still fixed on the horizon. But his voice, soft and steady, pulled you back to the present. Slowly, as if weighed down by the enormity of your sorrow, you reached for his hand and let him guide you to his lap.

You sank into him, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you in a way nothing else could. His arms encircled you, holding you securely, as though he could shield you from the pain that threatened to consume you.

Aegon pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke. “You need to eat,” he whispered, his tone both gentle and firm.

You shook your head, your voice hoarse from disuse. “I can’t, Aegon. I just… I can’t.”

His arms tightened around you, his determination unwavering. “You have to,” he insisted softly. “For Jaehaera. For Maelor. For me. We can’t lose you too.”

The raw emotion in his voice made your chest ache. You wanted to refuse again, to retreat further into your grief, but the desperation in his plea broke through the walls you had built around yourself.

After a long silence, you finally murmured, “Alright.”

Aegon exhaled, his relief palpable. “Thank you,” he said, kissing your temple. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”

For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth through the numbness, a faint glimmer of hope that perhaps, with Aegon by your side, you could begin to heal.

Aegon called for one of your handmaidens, instructing her to bring a tray of food to your chambers. He remained by your side, his hand never leaving yours, as if afraid you might retreat into yourself again. When the food arrived, he dismissed the servant with a quiet nod and set the tray on the small table beside you.

Without a word, he carefully scooped a spoonful of warm soup and brought it to your lips. “Eat,” he said softly, his tone a mix of patience and quiet determination.

You hesitated, your grief still clawing at your insides, but the steady look in his eyes left little room for argument. Reluctantly, you parted your lips, letting him feed you. He continued, one spoonful at a time, murmuring soothing words between each bite.

“You’re doing well,” he said gently, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Just a little more.”

When you finished, he set the tray aside and kissed your temple. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride and affection.

Moments later, a soft knock sounded at the door, and before Aegon could respond, it opened to reveal your mother, Alicent. She stepped in, her dark green gown brushing the floor as she carried Jaehaera and you look Maelor by the hand of one her handmaiden.

The sound of their voices reached you immediately—Jaehaera’s sweet, high-pitched chatter and Maelor’s quiet but firm tone.

Your chest tightened as they entered the room. You froze for a moment, unsure if you could face them, but when Jaehaera’s eyes found yours, her expression lit up. “Mama!” she cried, wriggling free from Alicent’s arms and running toward you.

Maelor followed more slowly, his small face serious, but his eyes were full of hope as he approached. “Mama,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly.

Their presence broke something inside you—not in the way that left you hollow, but in a way that reminded you of what you still had. Tears filled your eyes as Jaehaera climbed into your lap, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. Maelor stood at your side, his hand reaching for yours.

“Mama, please don’t be sad anymore,” Jaehaera whispered, her voice trembling. “We need you.”

Aegon placed a hand on your shoulder, his steady presence grounding you as you pulled your children close. For the first time in days, you felt the faint stirrings of purpose returning. You kissed Jaehaera’s hair and held Maelor’s hand tightly, realizing that no matter how broken you felt, you couldn’t give up.

Your children still needed you, and you would find a way to be there for them—even if it meant taking it one painful step at a time.

You pulled Jaehaera and Maelor into your arms, holding them tightly as if they might slip away like a fragile dream. Their small bodies pressed against you, their warmth breaking through the icy wall of your grief. Tears began to fall, soft at first, then in heavy streams as the overwhelming weight of your sorrow poured out.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Jaehaera buried her face in your shoulder, her tiny hands gripping your dress, while Maelor leaned against you, his small arms clutching your waist. They didn’t say anything, but their presence, their love, was enough to make the ache in your heart a little more bearable.

Aegon knelt beside you, his arms encircling all three of you. His touch was steady, strong, and reassuring, a silent promise that you were not alone in this. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and whispered, “We’ll get through this. Together.”

You looked up through your tears, meeting Aegon’s gaze. His eyes were filled with the same pain as yours, but also determination—a fierce love that refused to let this tragedy break your family completely.

From the corner of the room, Alicent stood quietly, her own tears falling as she watched the scene before her. Her hand rested over her chest, and for a moment, the grief of losing her grandson seemed to mingle with the pride of seeing her daughter and son united in their pain.

“You’re strong,” Alicent said softly, her voice trembling as she stepped closer. “All of you. And together, you’ll endure this.”

As the four of you held each other, the room was filled with a bittersweet silence—a fragile moment of unity amidst the storm of sorrow. For the first time, you felt the faintest glimmer of hope that, despite the pain, your family would find a way to heal.

That evening, as the soft glow of candlelight filled your chamber, you, Aegon, Jaehaera, and Maelor remained together. The children nestled against you, their small, warm bodies a reminder of what you still had amidst your grief. Jaehaera clung to your arm, her tiny hand gripping yours as if afraid to let go, while Maelor sat quietly at your other side, leaning into you.

Aegon sat close, his arm draped protectively around all of you, his presence steady and grounding. His fingers gently stroked your back, a silent reassurance that he was there, that you were not alone in this.

As the evening deepened, you looked at your children, their eyelids growing heavy with sleep. Fear gripped your chest, the thought of letting them out of your sight unbearable. The memory of losing Jaehaerys haunted you, and the terror of something similar happening again overwhelmed you.

“I want them to stay here tonight,” you whispered, your voice trembling but firm. You looked at Aegon, your eyes pleading. “I can’t… I can’t let them go. I can’t lose them too.”

Aegon nodded without hesitation, his hand reaching for yours. “Of course,” he said softly. “They’ll stay with us. We’ll keep them safe.”

Jaehaera’s sleepy voice broke through the quiet. “Mama, don’t cry anymore,” she murmured, snuggling closer to you. “We’re here.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they were mixed with a faint sense of comfort. You kissed her forehead and pulled Maelor closer, feeling his small arms wrap around your waist.

That night, the four of you lay together in your bed, the children tucked safely between you and Aegon. You stayed awake for a long time, your arms around your children, listening to their soft breaths as they slept. Aegon’s hand found yours under the blankets, his grip firm and steady.

“We won’t let anything happen to them,” he whispered in the dark, his voice full of quiet determination.

You nodded, your heart heavy but resolute. As sleep finally claimed you, the fear remained, but so did the love—the love that would drive you to protect what you still had, no matter the cost.

The morning light streamed through the windows of your chamber as you sat at your vanity, finally preparing yourself to step out after days of solitude. Jaehaera perched on your lap, her soft giggles filling the room as you gently combed and styled her hair. The sound was a balm to your weary heart, a small reminder of the joy that still lingered in your life.

The handmaid beside you worked quietly, weaving intricate braids into your own hair, but your focus remained on your daughter. She twisted her head to look at you, her tiny hands reaching to touch the comb in your hand.

“Are we going somewhere today, Mama?” Jaehaera asked, her voice full of curiosity.

You smiled, brushing her hair gently. “We are, my love. It’s time we all spend some time outside these walls.”

Your gaze shifted to Maelor, who was seated on the plush carpet nearby. He was engrossed in his wooden toys, his little fingers carefully arranging them into a line. Every so often, he would glance up at you and his sister, a small smile lighting up his face when he caught your eye.

“Maelor,” you called softly, and he looked up, his big, curious eyes meeting yours. “Are you ready to go out today, darling?”

He nodded eagerly, standing up and clutching one of his toys in his hand. “Will Papa come too?”

You felt a soft warmth spread in your chest at his question. “Yes, Papa will be with us,” you reassured him.

As you finished the last braid in Jaehaera’s hair, you leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “There,” you said, smoothing the strands. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

Jaehaera giggled, turning to wrap her arms around your neck. “Thank you, Mama.”

For the first time in days, a genuine smile graced your face as you held her close. It wasn’t a complete healing of the pain, but it was a start—a small step toward reclaiming the strength you needed to protect and cherish your family.

The halls of the Red Keep felt stifling as you walked through them, the murmurs and whispers of the courtiers trailing in your wake. You could feel their eyes on you, their pity, their curiosity, their judgments, but you refused to acknowledge them. Your heart and mind were set on one thing—spending time with your children.

When you finally stepped into the garden, the air felt lighter, the soft scent of blooming flowers offering a brief reprieve from the weight of the castle. Jaehaera let out a joyful laugh and dashed ahead, her small feet carrying her toward the vibrant blooms. She twirled and danced in the sunlight, her laughter ringing like a melody that eased your aching heart.

A soft smile touched your lips as you watched her. She reminded you so much of Jaehaerys, her twin, with that same carefree spirit you so dearly missed.

You glanced down at Maelor, who stood quietly by your side, his little hand holding the edge of your dress. His bright eyes looked up at you with a seriousness that seemed far beyond his years.

“Maelor,” you said gently, kneeling to his level. “Why don’t you go and play with your sister? She’d love to have you join her.”

But Maelor shook his head, his small brow furrowing in determination. “No, Mama,” he said firmly. “I want to stay with you. I’ll protect you.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, a mix of sorrow and pride swelling in your chest. You reached out to cup his cheek, your fingers brushing his soft skin.

“You’re so brave, my sweet boy,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

He shook his head again, his lips pressing into a pout. “I’ll stay. Just in case.”

You pulled him into a tender embrace, his small arms wrapping around your neck. As you held him, you glanced back at Jaehaera, who was chasing butterflies through the flowers. Despite the heaviness in your heart, the sight of your children here, alive and smiling, brought a flicker of solace.

For now, you let yourself live in this moment, surrounded by their love and innocence, determined to protect what remained of your family.

You settled beneath the shade of a large tree, the soft grass beneath you providing a small comfort. Maelor climbed onto your lap and rested his head against your thigh, his small body relaxing as your hand gently stroked his fine, golden hair. He sighed contentedly, clutching his wooden toy in one hand, as if even in this peaceful moment, he needed to be prepared to protect you.

Your gaze shifted to Jaehaera, who was a little further ahead, crouched among the flower beds. She hummed softly to herself, her small hands delicately picking flowers one by one. She held them up to the sunlight, inspecting their colors before adding them to the small bouquet she was gathering.

“She looks happy,” Maelor murmured, his voice soft and a little sleepy.

You nodded, your hand continuing to brush through his hair. “She does. And that’s all I want—for both of you to be happy.”

He tilted his head slightly to look up at you, his big, earnest eyes meeting yours. “Are you happy, Mama?”

The question struck you, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to answer. You smiled faintly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I am happy when I’m with you and your sister,” you replied honestly, though the weight of your grief still lingered in your heart.

Maelor seemed satisfied with your answer and closed his eyes, his breathing growing slower as he relaxed further into your lap. You looked back at Jaehaera, who now had a small bundle of flowers clutched to her chest. She turned to you, her face lighting up with a bright smile.

“Mama!” she called, running toward you with her bouquet. “Look what I made!”

You smiled warmly, holding your arms open as she reached you. “They’re beautiful, sweetheart,” you said, pulling her close as she showed you the flowers. “Just like you.”

In that moment, beneath the tree with your children close, the world seemed a little less heavy. Despite the pain that lingered in your soul, these small moments of peace and love gave you the strength to keep going.

Not long after, your gaze drifted to the nearby corridor, where you caught sight of Aegon walking briskly with several members of his council trailing behind him. His expression was tense, his brows furrowed in frustration as he gestured sharply, dismissing them with a curt wave of his hand. The councilors exchanged uneasy glances before bowing slightly and dispersing, leaving him alone.

Your brow furrowed as you watched him approach. Despite the lingering tension in his demeanor, his face softened when his eyes met yours. By the time he reached you, a small, warm smile had replaced the scowl. Without hesitation, he lowered himself to sit beside you under the shade of the tree.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, his voice gentle, though his eyes briefly flicked to Maelor resting on your lap and Jaehaera now leaning against you, clutching her bouquet of flowers.

You shook your head, a faint smile gracing your lips. “No. I’m just spending time with them.”

He nodded, leaning back against the tree trunk with a sigh. For a moment, he said nothing, simply watching Jaehaera as she rearranged her flowers and Maelor as he clung to your side, half-asleep.

“You look more at peace here,” Aegon finally said, his tone quieter, as though he didn’t want to disturb the serene moment. “I’ve missed seeing you like this.

You turned to him, studying his face. Though he smiled, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of his duties as king and the shared grief you both carried.

“And you look as if you’ve been arguing all day,” you remarked softly, your voice laced with concern.

Aegon chuckled dryly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing worth troubling you over,” he replied. Then, as if to change the subject, he reached out to gently take your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “I came here because I wanted to be with you. With all of you.”

Jaehaera looked up from her flowers, her face lighting up when she noticed her father. “Papa!” she exclaimed, clambering over to sit on his lap.

Aegon grinned, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head. “What have you been up to, my little flower?”

She giggled, holding up her bouquet proudly. “I made these for Mama. Do you like them?”

“They’re perfect,” he said, his smile widening as he looked at her creation. Then, glancing at you, he added softly, “Just like this moment.”

For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth in your chest, surrounded by the love of your family—a brief reprieve from the storm that still loomed over your hearts.

After asking the servants to take Maelor and Jaehaera back to their chambers for rest, the garden grew quiet. It was just you and Aegon now, the gentle rustle of leaves and distant birdsong filling the space between you.

You leaned against his shoulder, seeking comfort in his steady presence. His hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a reassuring grip.

For a while, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the peace of the moment. Then, breaking the silence, you said softly, “Maelor wanted to protect me today.”

Aegon tilted his head, glancing down at you. “Protect you?” he echoed, curiosity laced in his tone.

You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “That’s why he brought his little wooden sword to the garden. He told me he wanted to stay by my side and protect me.”

Aegon let out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and genuine. “He’s a brave boy,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Though I’m not sure how much protection that wooden sword could offer.”

You smiled at his words, your gaze softening. “It’s not about the sword,” you murmured. “It’s about his heart. He’s so young, but he already feels like he has to protect his family.”

Aegon’s expression turned thoughtful, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand. “He’s too much like me,” he said quietly, a mix of pride and regret in his tone. “Wanting to take on the weight of things he shouldn’t have to.

You looked up at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. “He’s strong,” you said gently. “Like his father.”

Aegon’s lips curved into a faint smile, though his gaze remained distant. “I just want him to have a better life than I did. Than we did.”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder again. “We’ll make sure of it,” you whispered. “For him. For Jaehaera. And for Jaehaerys.”

The mention of your eldest son’s name hung in the air, bittersweet and heavy. Aegon tightened his hold on your hand, his silent way of telling you he shared your determination. Together, even in your grief, you would find the strength to protect what remained of your family.

You knew deep in your heart that Aegon had been trying his hardest to be the father your children deserved. He had made it his purpose to ensure they never experienced the same emptiness you both had endured—a father in name but absent in every other sense.

As you leaned against him, you thought of the moments he shared with Jaehaera and Maelor, his efforts to make them laugh, to protect them, to show them they were loved. Despite the burdens he carried as king, he always made time for them. It wasn’t always perfect, but it was sincere.

“I see how hard you try,” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon glanced down at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You,” you said, meeting his gaze, “with Jaehaera and Maelor even with Jaehaerys. You’re always there for them. You’re doing everything you can to make sure they never feel what we felt growing up.”

Aegon’s expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “They deserve better than we had,” he said quietly. “A father who’s there for them. Who doesn’t treat them like pawns on a board or ignore them altogether.”

“And they have that,” you reassured him, your fingers tightening around his hand. “They have you. You’re a better father than you think.”

He let out a shaky sigh, his free hand brushing through his hair. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s enough,” he admitted. “If I can ever truly protect them—from the world, from this throne, from everything that could hurt them.”

“You’re already doing it,” you said, your voice steady. “They know they’re loved. That’s something we never had. That’s the difference.”

Aegon looked at you for a long moment, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. Then he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled faintly, resting your head back against his shoulder. In the quiet of the garden, with the sun beginning to set, you both sat in shared understanding. Aegon wasn’t just a king, and you weren’t just his queen. Together, you were parents fighting to give your children the love and security you had once longed for.

You and Aegon walked side by side through the dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, your hand resting lightly on his arm. Tonight was meant to be a rare moment of peace—a family dinner in your mother’s private solsr. She had insisted, saying it was time for all of you to come together, to remind yourselves that despite everything, you were still a family.

The thought of seeing your siblings again after so long filled you with mixed emotions. You had missed them deeply, especially your sister, but you wondered how much had changed during your time in isolation.

As you approached the doors, they swung open to reveal your family already seated. Alicent rose first, her dark green gown catching the glow of the candlelight. “You’re here,” she said warmly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “We were beginning to think we’d need to send someone after you.”

Your sister Helaena looked up from her seat, her gentle eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Sister,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and relief.

Aemond, standing by the hearth with his hands clasped behind his back, gave you a single nod of acknowledgment. Though his expression was composed, there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting,” you said, your voice polite but tinged with emotion. “It’s been… a long day.”

Alicent stepped closer, her hand brushing your arm briefly. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” she said. “We’re just glad you’re here.”

Aegon, ever one to diffuse tension in his own way, added with a faint smirk, “Besides, it gave them time to argue over the wine.”

A soft chuckle escaped Helaena, and even Aemond’s lips twitched as though fighting a smile.

The tension in your chest eased as you stepped further into the room, Aegon’s hand still resting protectively on your back. Tonight, for just a few hours, you could set aside the pain and chaos of the outside world and simply be a family again.

The dinner went smoothly, filled with light-hearted conversation and laughter that made the weight of the past few days feel a little lighter. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel the comfort of family, the warmth of shared memories and the joy of simply being together.

You glanced around the table, watching your mother, and couldn’t help but ask, “Where is Grandfather? I haven’t seen him.”

Alicent paused, her eyes flicking to Aegon before her lips pressed into a thin line. There was a noticeable tension in the air as she looked away, clearly avoiding the question.

Aegon, noticing the shift in mood, sighed deeply. “Grandfather is no longer the king’s hand,” he said plainly, his voice steady but firm. “Sir Criston has replaced him, and Otto is on his way back to Oldtown.”

Your heart sank, but you couldn’t quite grasp the full weight of the words. Otto had always been a figure of power and influence in your life, for better or worse. The idea that he was no longer in such a position left you with a strange mix of emotions—relief, uncertainty, and a small sense of loss.

“You… you dismissed him?” you asked softly, not sure if you wanted the answer.

Aegon met your gaze, his expression unreadable. “It wasn’t my decision alone,” he replied, his voice low. “But yes, I had no choice. His actions, his way of handling things, it wasn’t what the crown needed.

You could tell there was more to it, but Aegon wasn’t one to offer explanations when he didn’t feel it was necessary. You didn’t press further, instead turning your attention back to your mother, whose silence spoke volumes.

Alicent finally broke her silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “He served his purpose, but times change.”

Aegon nodded, his fingers briefly brushing against yours under the table. You couldn’t deny that a part of you felt unsettled by the absence of Otto, even if his departure meant a shift in power that could be beneficial for the realm. Still, there was no denying the complex history that lingered between you, your mother, and your grandfather.

As you continued eating, you could feel your mother’s gaze on you. When you looked up, you met her eyes, and she offered you a small, bittersweet smile. It was a smile that carried both warmth and a certain sadness, one that made your heart tighten with guilt.

You knew, deep down, that she missed the daughter she once had—the one who had always been composed, graceful, and dutiful. The daughter who had once walked alongside her, strong and ready to uphold the family’s legacy. But things had changed. The weight of the past few days, the grief over losing your son, had fractured the image of who you were, and that hurt her.

The guilt pressed down on you, heavier than it had before. You felt as if you had somehow failed her by becoming someone she no longer recognized—someone lost in sorrow and torn between obligations. You had let her down, even though you had tried to keep everything together for the sake of your family.

For a moment, your mother’s eyes softened, and there was a quiet understanding between the two of you. But it didn’t change the fact that you felt the distance growing between you, even in this moment of togetherness.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost too softly for anyone else to hear, but Alicent’s gaze never left you.

She blinked, her smile deepening as she reached out to gently rest her hand on top of yours. “You have nothing to apologize for,” she said, her voice warm but laced with a deep, unspoken sorrow. “I know this pain, and I know you’ll find your way through it in your own time.��

Her words, though comforting, only made the guilt heavier. You knew that she understood the grief, but you couldn’t help but wonder if she wished for the daughter she once had back—the one who had been able to stand tall beside her, never showing the cracks that now seemed so visible to everyone.

As you resumed eating, you glanced at Aegon, who quietly observed the moment between you and your mother, his hand subtly brushing against yours. It was a small gesture, but it reminded you that he was there, supporting you in ways you could never truly put into words.

After the dinner, as the conversation began to settle, you felt the need to stay a little longer with your mother, away from the usual responsibilities and the weight of the kingdom. You turned to Aegon, offering him a soft smile.

“Would you mind going back to our room with the children? I… I want to stay a little longer with Mother,” you said, your voice gentle but full of meaning. You hoped he would understand your need for this moment of solitude with Alicent.

Aegon looked at you for a moment, his expression softening. He nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Of course,” he replied, though there was a trace of concern in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss your forehead before standing up. “Take your time, my love. We’ll be waiting for you.”

With that, Aegon made his way out of the room, leaving you and Alicent alone.

Your mother smiled warmly at you, her eyes filled with understanding. “I’m glad you want to stay,” she said softly. “It’s been too long since we had time together like this.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. It was comforting to be with her, but it also reminded you of the distance that had formed between the two of you in recent times. Sitting down beside her, you let out a quiet sigh, trying to collect your thoughts before speaking.

Alicent gently placed her hand over yours, her touch both reassuring and tender. “You’ve been through so much,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of a mother’s concern. “But you’re not alone in this. You never have been.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you squeezed her hand. The comfort of her presence, the bond you shared, made the pain a little easier to bear. In this moment, with her by your side, you didn’t feel quite as lost.

For the first time in days, you felt a sense of peace, knowing that despite everything, you still had your family.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, and for a moment, everything felt still. Her embrace, the one that always made you feel safe and comforted, surrounded you like a warm, familiar blanket. You let out a shaky breath, and before you knew it, tears began to fall. Your chest felt tight, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“I… I was happier before I became queen,” you whispered, your voice cracking with the vulnerability you hadn’t allowed yourself to show in so long.

Alicent’s hands gently stroked your hair, her touch soothing as she held you tightly. She didn’t need to say anything right away. The quiet understanding between the two of you was enough. She knew the burden you carried—she had carried it herself, in her own way, for so many years.

“I understand,” she said softly, her voice calm and steady. “The crown is heavy, my dear, and it changes everything. But you are still you. And I’m here, no matter what.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting the tears flow freely, the weight of everything that had happened over the past few months breaking through the walls you had built.

“I wanted to be just… me again,” you admitted, your words barely audible. “I wanted to be the mother I was before… when I didn’t have to think about the kingdom all the time. When I could just be there for my children, without all the duties and expectations. I wanted to be someone’s daughter, not a queen. I wanted to be…”

“Happy?” she finished your sentence, her voice gentle but knowing.

You nodded, your face still pressed against her shoulder. “Yes. Happy. Carefree. I didn’t know how much I had lost until… until it was too late.”

She held you even tighter, as if trying to absorb your pain, to carry some of it for you. “I know. I know how hard it can be. But remember, no matter where you are, or who you become, you are always my daughter. You always have me by your side.”

In her arms, you allowed yourself to feel the grief, the pain, and the longing for a simpler time. But you also felt the quiet comfort of her presence, the reassurance that, despite everything, you still had a place where you were loved, where you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world alone.

And for that moment, in the quiet of her embrace, you felt just a little bit lighter.

She gently cupped your face with both hands, her touch tender and warm as she lifted your tear-streaked face to meet hers. Her eyes, full of compassion and regret, gazed deeply into yours as she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You are my strong daughter,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “You have always been strong, even when you didn’t feel like it. And I see that strength in you, even now, even after everything you’ve been through.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening as you listened to her words. It felt both comforting and heartbreaking to hear her speak so kindly to you, especially when you had longed for her support in ways you hadn’t fully realized before.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, her voice quieter now, filled with an unmistakable sorrow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t always be the mother you needed, that I couldn’t always be there for you. I know I’ve made mistakes… I know I’ve been distant at times, and I regret that more than anything.”

Tears welled up again, but this time, they weren’t only of pain. There was a sense of release, of understanding. Alicent wasn’t perfect, but she was here now, offering her love and apology, and that meant more than you had realized.

“You’ve been a mother in your own way,” you whispered, your voice breaking but sincere. “I know you tried, and I’ve always known you loved me. Even when things weren’t easy, I never doubted that.”

Alicent smiled faintly through her own tears, brushing her thumbs along your cheeks, wiping away your tears with a tenderness that felt like a long-awaited balm to your soul.

“You are my everything,” she said softly, her eyes filled with a deep, unconditional love. “And I will spend the rest of my life making up for those moments I wasn’t there. You’ll never have to carry this alone again. I’m here, always.”

You let her words sink in, the weight of them finally lifting the sorrow that had gripped you for so long. In that moment, you realized that even if things could never return to how they were before, you weren’t alone. And that, perhaps, was the start of healing.

After your heartfelt conversation with your mother, you walked slowly back to your room. The weight of the emotions you had shared with her still lingered, but there was a sense of peace in knowing that, for the first time in a long while, you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable and open.

When you reached your room, the sight that greeted you warmed your heart. Aegon was lying on the bed, his arm wrapped protectively around both Jaehaera and Maelor. They had all fallen asleep, tangled in the softness of the blankets, their small bodies curled up together. Aegon’s chest rose and fell gently as he slept, his face relaxed in a rare moment of peace.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Despite everything—despite the pain, the loss, and the uncertainty—here they were, your family, still together. The children had found solace in their father’s embrace, and Aegon had found solace in being there for them, for you. It was a bittersweet comfort, but it was real. It was yours.

You tiptoed over to the bed, careful not to disturb them, and gently brushed a lock of hair away from Maelor’s face. You gazed at both your children, your heart swelling with love for them. They were so young, so full of life, and you would do anything to protect them from the world that had already taken so much from you.

Sitting quietly at the edge of the bed, you took a moment to simply watch them, feeling the overwhelming sense of gratitude and love fill your chest. There were still many challenges ahead, but in this moment, you allowed yourself to just be. To be a mother, to be their mother. And that was enough.

With a soft sigh, you leaned over and kissed each of them gently on their foreheads, taking one last look at Aegon before you settled beside him.

As you lay down, your head resting on the pillow next to him, you finally allowed yourself to close your eyes. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but for tonight, you were surrounded by love, by family, and that was all that truly mattered.

The next morning, life began to return to its rhythm, though it felt different now, marked by a sense of fragility and the lingering ache of loss. Jaehaera and Maelor resumed their lessons, the sounds of their tutors filling the halls as they continued their education, seemingly oblivious to the weight of the world outside. Aegon, too, returned to his duties, attending council meetings and engaging in matters of state, his focus unwavering despite the quiet storm of grief that lingered beneath his composed exterior.

As for you, you found yourself once again immersed in the responsibilities that came with being the queen. After a period of isolation, you knew that you needed to find your footing again, not just for yourself, but for your children and your kingdom.

You visited your mother, Alicent, and together, you focused on the kingdom’s affairs, the two of you working side by side as you once had in the past. It felt grounding, familiar—though the shadows of grief were still present, they seemed a little less consuming in these moments of shared purpose. Alicent, with her quiet strength, guided you as you worked through the challenges of governance, just as she had always done, but now with a deeper sense of understanding.

At times, you would find yourself lost in thought, thinking of Jaehaerys and the pain that would always follow you. But you also found solace in your family, in the small, tender moments you shared with Aegon and the children. Slowly, day by day, you began to rebuild, piece by piece.

Though you didn’t have all the answers, you knew that as long as you had your family—your children, your husband, and even your mother—you could move forward, even if it was just one step at a time. You carried their love with you, even in the darkest of days, and that gave you the strength to keep going.

As you sat with your mother, Alicent, and your sister, the conversation flowing between the three of you, you suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over you. The room seemed to spin, and your stomach twisted in discomfort. You tried to push it aside, focusing on their words, but the nausea only grew stronger, threatening to overtake you.

You clenched your fists, trying to control your breathing, willing the sensation to pass. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the discomfort intensified. Your body betrayed you, and before you could stop it, you turned away from them, covering your mouth as you rushed to the side.

The nausea hit full force, and you vomited into the nearby chamber pot, your body trembling with the force of it. When the wave of sickness finally passed, you felt weak, your head spinning.

Alicent and Haelena, startled by the sudden turn, quickly rushed to your side, concern etched on their faces. Alicent gently placed a hand on your back, her voice filled with worry.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone soft but insistent. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and exhaustion as you tried to regain your composure, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m fine,” you said, though your voice was strained. “It’s nothing… just a momentary weakness.”

But deep down, you could feel that it was more than that. Something wasn’t right, and you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something was changing within you.

Alicent’s eyes softened with concern as she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You need rest,” she insisted, her voice filled with maternal care. “You’ve been through so much lately, and now this… Please, let the Maester check on you. I’ll send him right away.”

You could feel your heart tighten at the thought of Aegon finding out, knowing how deeply he would worry. The stress of everything already weighed so heavily on him, and the last thing you wanted was to add to his burdens.

“I don’t want him to know,” you murmured, your voice shaky as you met her gaze. “Please, don’t tell Aegon. He’s already carrying so much… I don’t want him to lose focus.”

Alicent studied you for a long moment, her brow furrowing in concern. She could see the fear and exhaustion in your eyes, but she understood your reasoning. With a soft sigh, she nodded. “I won’t tell him,” she promised. “But you must take care of yourself. For him, for your children… and for you.”

You nodded gratefully, though doubt lingered in your heart. “I’ll rest,” you whispered, feeling a small weight lift off your chest at her understanding.

As you made your way back to your room, your mother sent for the Maester, who would check on you in secret. You couldn’t shake the unease that gnawed at you, but for now, you needed to rest. You closed your eyes, hoping that when you woke, the sense of sickness would be gone—and that you wouldn’t have to face the truth of what might be happening.

You lay back on the bed, trying to steady your breath as the Maester examined you carefully. His questions about your last cycle slowly sunk in, and with the realization, a cold chill ran down your spine. Everything had been so chaotic lately, you hadn’t even considered the possibility. The Maester looked up at you with a reassuring smile, sensing your growing anxiety.

“Your Grace,” he said softly, “You are with child.”

The words hit you like a storm, a mixture of disbelief and fear flooding through you. A child, in the middle of all the loss, pain, and stress… it seemed like a fragile hope in a world so uncertain.

Your heart skipped a beat as you sat up slightly, your hands trembling. “Is the baby alright?” you asked, the worry thick in your voice. “Given everything that’s happened… the stress, my lack of food…” You felt overwhelmed by the thought of how this had all come to be.

The Maester placed a gentle hand on your arm, his voice calm and steady. “It is understandable to be concerned, Your Grace. Stress and lack of nourishment can affect your health, but I find no immediate cause for alarm. The baby seems healthy so far. However, it is crucial that you rest and allow yourself time to recover. Eat when you can, and take care of yourself.”

You nodded, though doubt lingered in your chest. The fear of losing another child, of facing another loss, was almost too much to bear. “Thank you, Maester,” you murmured, your voice small.

The Maester gave you a kind smile. “Your Grace, you must take care of yourself. Your health and the health of the child are of utmost importance now. I will keep an eye on you.”

As he left the room, you were left with your thoughts, still in shock but also filled with a new, growing sense of responsibility. Despite the overwhelming feelings, one thought kept surfacing—this new life, this child, was a part of you and Aegon, and you had to protect it with everything you had.

As you sat there, your hand gently resting on your still-flat stomach, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you. There was a quiet joy that bloomed within, a spark of hope, but it was tinged with a deep sadness and worry. You had lost so much already—your son, the world you once knew—and now, with this unexpected news, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of vulnerability. Could you protect this child? Could you bear another loss?

You closed your eyes, taking in a shaky breath, trying to reconcile the conflicting emotions within you. The joy of new life, the fear of what might happen, the aching sadness of everything that had been lost—it all seemed to press in on you at once. You thought of Aegon, of Maelor, and Jaehaera. They needed you, and now, this new child needed you too.

“I will protect you,” you whispered to yourself, speaking softly to the life growing inside you, even though it felt too early to even fully believe it. “I will do whatever it takes.”

But even as you said it, the weight of your responsibilities, the pain of your past, and the fear of what the future might hold made it hard to feel anything but uncertain.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps approaching your room, and you quickly wiped away the tears that had started to form. Whatever the future held, you had to face it, for them, for this child, and for the family you still had.

You turned to see Aegon standing in the doorway, his gaze soft yet filled with concern. The way he looked at you, as though he could feel the storm within you, made your heart ache.

He stepped closer, his voice gentle but filled with urgency, “Is everything all right? What’s going on? You look… far away.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. The last thing you wanted was to burden him with the weight of everything you were feeling, but his presence, his concern, made it harder to hide your turmoil.

You shook your head slowly, then spoke, your voice trembling slightly, “I… I’m fine, Aegon. It’s just… a lot on my mind.”

Aegon knelt beside you, his hands reaching out to gently hold yours. His eyes searched yours, his worry deepening. “You don’t have to carry everything alone. What is it? You can tell me.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you let out a shaky breath. “I found out… I’m pregnant.” You paused, feeling the weight of the words.

Upon hearing the news, Aegon’s face lit up with an expression of pure joy. He couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face as he rushed to your side, his hands gently cupping your face. “You’re pregnant?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “That’s… that’s the best news I’ve ever heard.”

Without wasting a moment, Aegon quickly left the room, eager to share the news with your mother. His excitement was palpable, and you could see the joy in his eyes as he rushed down the corridor.

It wasn’t long before Alicent arrived, her presence immediately calming. She stepped into the room, her eyes filled with love and concern, and before you could say anything, she pulled you into a warm embrace. “Oh, my dear,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so happy for you.”

You felt the warmth of her hug, her strength and love surrounding you as tears welled up in your eyes. “I’m scared, mother,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “What if I’m not strong enough? What if I can’t do this?”

Alicent pulled back slightly, holding you at arm’s length as she looked into your eyes, her own filled with understanding. “You are stronger than you know. And you will never be alone in this. We will all be here to support you, to guide you. This is a new beginning, a new life, and you have Aegon, and you have me. We will make sure this child knows nothing but love.”

You nodded, feeling the weight in your heart lighten just a little. With Alicent’s embrace, and Aegon’s joy, you began to feel a glimmer of hope for the future. The road ahead would still be difficult, but you knew that with them by your side, you could face anything.

tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd (italic means that i can’t tag you)

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veryblushyswitch · 1 month ago

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Stronger Than You Know

Summary: A chance to bond goes 180 and leaves both Dipper and Ford feeling horrible. Thankfully, the two talk it out and are feeling more connected than they ever have. 🌲

Lee: Dipper

Ler: Ford

Author’s Note: There’s angst in this one besties. There’s tickles too of course, but be prepared for a panic attack and lots of Dipper being sad before it gets happy again. Also thank you everyone for being so patient and encouraging! You guys are amazing! I hope you all enjoy! 🌲

A shriek followed by laughter filled the shack and made Ford jump. He stood up from his spot in the kitchen and walked to look into the living room.

Stan had Dipper in his lap and was scribbling away at his stomach. Dipper was squirming and pulling at his arms that were currently pinned against his chest, but wasn’t making a huge effort to get away.

Ford smiled at the sight. Dipper looked so happy. And his giggles certainly brightened up the room and anyone’s mood of whom had heard it. He heard Stanley mention going to a different spot which made Dipper squirm harder and start giggly pleading.

“Nohoho! Gruhunkle Stahahahan!” Dipper’s arms were slowly being raised above his head. Stan seemed to have struck gold when he started tickling under Dipper’s arms. He was surprised Mabel hadn’t come running to see if someone was being murdered at the initial scream Dipper emitted before cackling.

After a little bit more tickling, Stan let the kid go and told him to scram. His arms wrapped around himself, still giggling slightly from the leftover tingles. Ford made sure to not be seen as Dipper got up and made his way upstairs. He walked out and awkwardly coughed before addressing his twin.

“Does he, enjoy that?” Ford asked. Stan looked at him. He could tell it wasn’t just a random question. Ford was still struggling to find ways to bond with the kids in more of a Grunkle type way.

“Oh, yeah. The kid loves it. Would never admit it of course, but Mabel and I get him all the time.” Stan softly smiled at the memories. Dipper was a long time victim to his tickle attacks, but Mabel was on the receiving quite a bit too. He wouldn’t dare mention to Ford how they’ve been able to get him back though.

“Dipper gets really down on himself a lot. Sometimes he needs to just laugh and let loose. Heh. Sounds like another dork I know.” Stan winked at his twin, recalling all those times he used to tickle Ford to death when they were younger. Ford chuckled.

“So, do you think he’d be okay if I tried that with him?” Ford played with his hands behind his back, a nervous stim he developed in childhood.

“Are you kiddin’? All that kid wants to do is bond with you. And I think he’d love it if you tickled him. Don’t tell him I told you though.” Stan gave Ford a light nudge to his arm.

“Heh. Good to know. Thank you, Stanley.” Ford gave him a light nudge back.

“Don’t mention it, pointdextor.”

Ford had just finished preparing him and Dipper’s annual game of Dungeons, Dungeons & More Dungeons. They still preferred to play down in the lab, but Mabel gave it a “special touch” and added lots of pillows, blankets, and even some mythical stuffed animals to create a more cozy space.

He had to admit, the pillows and blankets were very nice. Especially since it did tend to get a bit chilly down there. And the stuffed animals would even make appearances as characters in the games. Ford made sure to show his appreciation by playing a game of Calling All Boys: Preteen Addition with her in the new space, which he actually found kinda fun if he was being honest.

Dipper excitedly squeezed his game folder against his chest as he made his way down to the basement. He sported his classic grey shorts and a hand me down graphic tee Wendy game to him, which was a bit too big, but he loved anyway and was really comfortable nonetheless.

“Hi, Great Uncle Ford!” Dipper happily waved as he made it to the game area. Ford said hello back let Dipper make himself comfortable before handing him a can of Pitt Cola. Dipper thanked him, the two opening their cans and clinking before taking a drink.

“So, we left off at the dungeon of horrors.” Ford began to set up the scene. “You start to walk through the cold and dark hallways when suddenly, you’re come across a table with two glowing potions.”

Ford turned on a sparkly led light Mabel supplied them. The room twinkled with blue and orange light, covering the ceiling and walls around them. Dipper awed at the sight, continuing to listen to his Grunkle with curiosity.

“You step forward in front of the table and notice each one has a distinct color. One is blue and one is orange. One of them contains an elixir that will make the drinker feel a mystery sensation depending on the number you roll. The other will give you 20+ HP and guide you to the exit.” Ford brought out two tiny bottles painted orange and blue and set them in front of Dipper’s character.

“Choose wisely my boy. While it’s a 50/50 chance, still think this through.” Ford knew what he was doing. While the answers were rigged, Ford still wanted Dipper to have fun and try and find a solution to the “riddle.”

Dipper was silent for a moment. Quietly thinking about each potion. The colors could indicate the answer, although they never established color codes before in this particular world. Not wanting to take up too much time overthinking, Dipper went with his instinct.

“I choose… to drink the blue potion!” Dipper yelled with determination, rolling his handful of dice onto the game board. The dice rolled, almost in slow motion, as the two watched and waited to see the result of the dice. They all stopped and revealed a number only two points under the required total. Dipper groaned, looking to Ford for him to continue the adventure.

Ford smirked, using a remote beside him to turn off the surrounding led string lights, leaving the two surrounded in darkness.

“The lights go out after you drink the mysterious potion.” Ford snuck behind Dipper, using the darkness of the room to his advantage. Dipper yelped and burst into giggles when two six fingered hands started to scribble and squeeze along his sides and ribs.

“Then all of a sudden, a strange sensation overcomes you. One kind of tickly sensation if you will.” Ford chuckled, both at his little remark and his nephew’s giggles. The lights turned back on to reveal a ticklish Dipper.

“Nahahaha! Wahahait! Gahahaha!” Dipper shrieked before falling into loud laughter as Ford moved to his stomach. His arms slammed to his sides as he squirmed. Screw his nerves for being so sensitive!

Ford smiled at his reactions. It was really nice to see the kid let loose and laugh. Especially at his hands. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to form a connection with Dipper and Mabel since he hadn’t been around kids all that much in the last thirty years. But thanks to Stan, he was able to spend time with his family. They were bonding.

“Greheat uhuncle Fohohord!” Dipper laughed and squirmed in his hold. He couldn’t believed this was happening. Ford was seeing him laugh and just be a kid. He was seeing him be so vulnerable. So childlike. So… weak…

Ford couldn’t see him like this. How was he going to prove he was worthy of helping him out on adventures if he could be taken down by a few tickles?! Ford didn’t see him as an apprentice. He saw him as this noodle-armed pre-teen who can’t stop himself from laughing at pokes to his sides.

Dipper started to freak out. He twisted this way and that, shoved at his great uncles hands. He kicked and even tried to throw in a punch. He was getting desperate.

Ford was none the wiser. He thought this was how a kid reacted to tickling. Heck this was how him and Stan used to get when they tickled each other. It wasn’t until he was about to move up under Dipper’s arms like he’d seen Stan do that Dipper knew he had to yell.

“STOP IT! LET GO OF ME!!” Dipper shouted, shocking both Ford and himself. Ford’s hands backed away immediately, his smile fading. Dipper internally screamed at himself. This was horrible, he just yelled at his Great Uncle Ford. He just yelled at the author of the journals…

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know why-” Dipper’s eyes welled up with tears. His breathing became rapid and his heart raced. He wanted to run away. He wanted to disappear. So he did.

Dipper quickly ran upstairs, game pieces being knocked over and stepped on. Ford tried to reach out and stop him, but found he didn’t know what to say. What could he say? He heard Dipper choke on a sob before he was gone.

Dipper slammed the door behind him to his room. Mabel jumped at the sound and turned her head to face her twin. His eyes were red and swelling with tears, his hands trembling and looking as if he were about to break down. Mabel got up from her bed and walked over to him.

“Dipper- Oh my gosh what’s wrong? What happened?!” Mabel reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. And that’s when he actually broke down. He crashed into her in a tight hug and finally let the sobs release themselves from his lungs. He buried his face into her sweater covered shoulder, and cried. He cried long and hard.

Mabel brought him down to the floor with her and held him close. Not letting go until he needed to. She rubbed his back in soothing circles, taking in deep breaths to help Dipper breathe normally again.

“That’s it bro bro. Take deep breaths with me okay? In. And out. Yeah just like that.” After a few minutes, Dipper sighed and pulled away. His hat hung low and his cheeks were still damp. Mabel stood up with him and led him to his bed.

“So, what happened? Do you wanna talk about it?” Mabel calmly asked. Her hand returning to his back. Dipper took in another deep breath, still unable to make eye contact, and told Mabel about what had happened.

“Oh, Dipper. It’s gonna be okay.” Mabel pulled him close into another hug. “You’re just being a silly Billy. He’s our Grunkle. Not just the author. He wouldn’t think you’re weak because you were having fun with your family.” She shook him gently while hugging him making smile for a moment.

“I guess so. I don’t know, Mabel. I just don’t want him to think I can’t handle going on adventures.” Dipper set his head in his hands.

“How am I going to convince him I’m good enough to go on adventures with him if I fall apart at being- ya know... It’s just so embarrassing.” Dipper groaned.

Mabel couldn’t help but chuckle at her brother. He could really be a goober sometimes.

“Everyone’s a little ticklish Dipper. I bet even Grunkle Ford is a little bit.” She ruffled his hair making Dipper smile and shove at her hand. He was about to comment on her statement when there was a small knock. They both looked up to see their Grunkle Ford.

“May I come in?” Ford asked in a quiet tone. Mabel looked to Dipper before seeing him nod. She gave him a fist bump before standing up and walking out the door. She gave Dipper a thumbs up as she went down the stairs. Dipper looked at Mabel, then at Ford.

“Dipper, I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable.” Ford stepped forward, but stopped when he saw the boy flinch at his advances. “I promise I was only trying to- It was just that I…” He stammered.

Ford took a deep breath and slowly walked over and sat next to Dipper. Dipper didn’t flinch this time or try to move away, but he didn’t move closer either. He didn’t know if he could.

“I was trying to bond with you. I’ve seen how close you are with Stanley. Especially when he gives you that sort of affection. I thought maybe it would bring us closer.” Ford fiddled with his hands on his lap. Dipper was stunned. He was genuinely trying to bond with him. Mabel was right.

“Oh, man. You saw what happened with Grunkle Stan this morning didn’t you?” Dipper covered his face, still unable to make eye contact with his Great Uncle beside him.

“I thought you would think I’m too weak or childish to go on adventures with you. What kind of adventurer would I be if I fall apart like that so easily.” Dipper sighed. Ford felt his heart sink. He gently took his arm and put it around Dipper, his hand resting on Dipper’s shoulder. Dipper let out a small gasp and brought his head back up to look at Ford.

“I never meant to make you feel like you’re weak, Dipper. Because you’re the complete opposite of that. Just because you’re a bit more sensitive than others doesn’t mean you’re not strong. Heck, I think you got your ticklishness from me.” Ford chuckled.

Dipper’s face formed a small smile as his nerves calmed. He let himself be vulnerable again, leaning his head against his Grunkle’s arm. Ford stiffened at first, not wanting to scare Dipper. But he relaxed when he realized what he was saying was working.

“You helped defeat Bill, you’ve saved your sister on multiple occasions, you saved me. You’re so much stronger than you know.” Ford squeezed Dipper’s arm in reassurance.

“You’re aloud to be a kid and let loose around me. You’re a brave and confident adventurer. But you’re also my nephew. And you can be both of those things at the same time. I will never think any less of you for being silly and laughing at a few pokes.” Ford ruffled Dipper’s hair lightly. Ford quickly stopped, however, when he saw tears in Dipper’s eyes.

“Dipper! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you-” Ford was interrupted when Dipper sat up and threw himself onto Ford in the tightest hug he could muster.

Dipper continued to cry into Ford’s shoulder. But he also laughed. Overcome with happiness that he couldn’t hold back any longer. It was everything he had needed to hear. Ford laughed along, wrapping his arms around Dipper to complete the hug.

Ford rubbed Dipper’s back until he calmed down. Dipper let go and sat back on the bed. The two awkwardly wiped their eyes and coughed. Both a little unsure about what to say next. Dipper was the one who spoke up first.

“Thank you, Great Uncle Ford. I really needed to hear that.” They both smiled.

“Of course.” Ford answered. Suddenly he let out a low pitched yelp when he felt a quick poke to his side. He turned to look at Dipper who had a mischievous glint in his eye. Kinda reminded him of someone. Ford smirked and brought his hands up into claws.

Dipper squealed and tried to make a run for it. He made it two steps before Ford scooped him up and started scribbling along his sides. He burst into giggles immediately, but his bright smile and arms barely pushing Ford away showed he was having fun.

Ford looked back and turned to gently toss Dipper onto the bed. Dipper giggled at the playfulness, curling into a ball and hugging his still tingling sides.

Ford sat on the bed beside him and lightly pressed his fingers into the boys neck. Dipper kicked out on instinct. His shoulders scrunched up as his heals made a rhythm on the bed.

“Nohohot fahahahair!” Dipper squeaked out amongst his high pitched giggles. The extra fingers were doing a number on the ticklish nerves on his necks and ears.

“Not fair? Oh, I’ll show you not fair.” Ford smirked, unable to hold back another chuckle when Dipper shrieked before falling into a fit of laughter when he felt one hand squeezing away at his left knee while the other snuck its way under his right arm.

“NAHAHAHAHA! GRUHUHUNKLE FOHOHOHORD!!” Ford was right- this wasn’t fair. Two of his worst spots at once! Dipper kicked his free leg as his free hand seemed to not know if it should try and help his knee or under his arm.

Ford beamed. Dipper finally called him Grunkle.

#gravity falls tickle #gravity falls tickle fic #Dipper #Dipper Pines #lee Dipper #ticklish Dipper #Ford #Stanford Pines #ler Ford #cartoon tickle #cartoon tickle fic

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who-knew-a-sheep-can-write · 4 months ago

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Eventually, Darling: Chris Redfield x Pregnant!Reader

You were going to kill him when he gets home.

You hissed as you tried to shift yourself only to freeze up when the pain in your lower back throbbed and pulsed with an anger so hot it made your head swim. You gave up once again, butt sinking back down to the couch that had started to make the poor muscles sore from sitting for too long. Your nails sank into the upholstery, clawing at the overstuffed fabric as you at least tried to nudge yourself up, but the pain just erupted again. You sighed, defeated once again, and sank into your misery.

Maybe you should’ve listened to Chris when he brought up the idea of Claire coming to help you out for this last week.

It was weird to know that in just one week, Chris would be off work for at least six months unless something dire happened. You’ve become so used to his sporadic schedule that when you got pregnant, it was like your world was kicked off of its kilter when Chris was suddenly going on shorter missions and taking less risks. And speaking of the devil, you were suddenly reminded of what he did to you when you felt something inside of you constrict before a sharp pressure was placed against your bladder. You whined, sighing through your nose as you glared over your very large tummy at the phone sitting on the coffee table. You cursed at yourself internally, scolding yourself for making such a silly little mistake.

Ever since it became a bit harder to bend over or even get up from sitting, you’ve made it a good habit to keep your phone close by and on your person at all times. But today, your fleeting memory has cursed you. You had set your phone down on the coffee table for just a second as you grabbed a baby catalog from the side table. It was as you were in the process of sitting did you realize your horrible mistake. That was a few hours ago.

And here you are now; Butt hurting, bladder being used as a punching bag, bored from looking over the same shit multiple times in a catalog that didn’t pique your interest anymore, and your throat started to hurt. You had been calling out for your phone, trying to get it to call Chris or Claire or Jill- anyone! But the stupid recognition didn’t want to detect anything after you say “Call.” Technology may be advancing, but voice recognition really is stuck.

You hissed again when you felt another sharp kick to your organs, placing a hand over your growing belly and massaged the taut skin beneath the maternity dress.

You changed course; Going from cursing yourself for putting you in this position to cursing Chris goddamn Redfield for getting you pregnant. How could he?

And with twins, nonetheless.

You remembered the first time you told Chris you were pregnant almost eight months ago. You were trembling, wiping the bile that remained on your lip as you stared anxiously at the pregnancy tests sitting on the bathroom countertop. You had used all of them in the box, all five sitting there thinking, trying to detect if you were pregnant or not. You kept nervously picking the box up from the trash can, rereading the same shit over and over again from the back of the box. Fifteen minutes, over 98% accurate, easy to use. If you paid that much for this box, it should be a higher fucking accuracy! And there was a picture of a woman smiling while holding the stupid white stick. You threw the box back into the trash and bit back the feeling of needing to vomit again. Why did that woman look so fucking joyful but here you were sweaty, puking and trembling with building anxiety.

You kept glancing at the small clock you kept on the sink’s countertop, then back down to the tiled floor, then back to the clock. It was like time was teasing you, making this all go by so fucking slowly just to drag out the suspense. You took these stupid tests at a quarter to eight. Right? Or was it five til?

You decided to bite the bullet. They should be done by now anyway. It felt like you were reaching for the most important thing in the world. When you grabbed onto the first one, it felt so fucking cold in your clammy hands. You gripped it so tight you heard the plastic creaking. You kept your palm covering the little screen, you brought it close to your chest. Ripping the bandaid off, you uncovered the test.

‘Pregnant.’

You felt the air leave your body. You dropped the test and picked up the next one.

‘Pregnant.’

And the next.

‘Pregnant.’

You dropped it and picked up the last two with quaking hands.

‘Pregnant.’ And ‘Pregnant.’

Holy shit. It wasn’t like you both were avoiding this, to bed fair. You just didn’t think it would happen this fast. You didn’t think this is how it would feel. For some reason, you thought this would’ve been a bit romantic oddly. But no. You’re here, chilled from the cold bathroom, smelling of vomit and sweat holding sticks you’ve peed on while looking like a bit of a disaster.

You didn’t know what to do. The panic started to set in. What do you do? Doctor- Gotta call a doctor and confirm this. What about Chris? You’re on his insurance, they’ll call him, they’ll send him a reminder text for it and then he’ll question you about it thinking you’re actually sick.

Chris.

How are you going to tell Chris?

He was still out on deployment, somewhere down on the other half of the world where it’s probably warm and sunny, feeling a lot better than this cold ass bathroom. You had to tell him. Would he freak out? Would he get mad? No- This is Chris. He would do the usual Chris thing and just be silent as stare down at the pregnancy tests in those big hands of his. He’d study them as if he were studying for a goddamn test at Harvard and ask you if they’re real and if they’re yours, the blockhead.

It wasn’t until two weeks later, Chris had come home and you had gotten the positive test from the doctor that you were pregnant. And like clockwork, when you greeted him at the door with a big kiss and a bigger hug, when you pulled away to let him shrug off his jacket he asked you about the doctor visit. You cursed internally. He was nonchalant about it, hanging his jacket up with a smile still on his face, probably thinking it was just a checkup or something minor like allergy medication.

But it was so much more.

“We need to talk.”

You froze at your word choice. Chris comically stopped moving with eyes wide. It was like death’s toll had been rung.

Why the fuck did you start it out like that?

So many thoughts were running through Chris’ mind. Horrible thoughts, but they all came to a screeching halt when he was handed two things: A white stick in a plastic sandwich bag, and a small black photo. He knew immediately what those were. His world lit up with color once again as he took both items so cautiously you would think they would break if someone breathed on them.

He cradled the pregnancy test with both hands. The little screen still said ‘Pregnant.’ The word was probably burned onto the screen. He then picked up the photo and examined it with the other hand, steely blue eyes seeming so bright and almost glassy. A smile spread wide across his chiseled face as a laugh rumbled from within. He looked back at you, tears sitting along his waterline.

“Is this real?” he asked you, his voice was so small and threatened to shake.

“It’s real. I’m four weeks along.”

Four weeks. One month of being pregnant. And you had to find out alone at home without him there. You must've been so scared.

Chris looked back at the photo as you came up beside him, leaning in and wrapping yourself around him the best you could. Though the picture was dark, Chris could make out one dot clear as day nestled inside of your womb. Narrowing his trained eyes a bit, he noticed another one that was a lot more faint.

“What’s this?” he pointed at the faint dot.

“Another baby.”

The bag slipped from his grip as he grabbed the photo with both hands. Another laugh rang out from him, full and hearty, coming from his belly. He suddenly grabbed you, hoisting you in his arms as he gave you another tight hug.

The memory was a sweet one, something you’ll cherish for the rest of your life. But this? You groaned internally as you felt both of the little monsters inside of you moving about.

It was when you were trying to escape for the umpteenth time when the front door opened to reveal your husband. On top of his own luggage, he had two plastic bags in each fist filled to the brim as well as a bouquet of flowers balancing between his teeth. His eyes widened when he saw you, quickly dropping everything at the door and placing the flowers down on the shoe rack by the door. He could tell from the look on your face that you were miserable.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

God, you missed him. The spite you had suddenly melted away to a gooey warmth. You looked up at him pitifully and sank back into the couch.

“Help me,” you whimpered pathetically.

The look of worry washed away, a faint smile pulling on his lips as he rounded the couch to stand in front of you. You held out your hands which Chris took gently. His hands were big, much larger than yours. He was always so careful when he took them, afraid that he would hurt you. His hands were rough, calloused on the pads of his fingertips, small scars embedded in his skin, but they always felt so soft and so safe to you. He nudged the coffee table back with his boot to give him some space before he carefully hoisted you up. As you fully stood up for the first time in hours, you let out a glorious exhale. Your body was so happy to be standing, your back was screaming praises while your swollen ankles and feet were bitching up a storm.

“Better?” your husband hummed as he bent over to press a kiss on your forehead.

“So much better.” You tried to hug him, but your big belly didn’t really allow you to. It was a bit soul-crushing to be able to fully press up against Chris and hug him tightly like you used to be able to do and it honestly made you feel bad about yourself. “Goddamn it,” you sighed.

You arched your back and rubbed at your sore flanks, hissing as your spine cracked a bit before you stood up. You were reminded that the dress you were wearing wasn’t that good of a fit anymore. It was tight around your belly and rode up in the front a bit. It was your favorite one out of the whole bunch, too, aside from Chris’ clothes - and even those had started to become too snug for your liking. Chris had placed his hands on your belly and rubbed soothing patterns into your sore sides. Almost like it was magic, the twins calmed down almost instantly inside of you. Chris bent down a bit, getting on one knee, he pressed a kiss to your clothed tummy.

“How’ve my boys been since I left?” he mused.

You had both learned that you’re having boys a few months ago.

He looked up at you and you could barely see his eyes over how big you were. It made you feel a little weird, like a small icy pain had grown in the pit of your stomach.

“Using me like a punching bag. One of them really likes to kick at my bladder, almost peed myself yesterday.” Chris huffed a laugh out before he pressed another kiss to your belly. He removed his hands for just a second only to snake them up the front of your dress and plant them right back where they were on your skin. His hands felt so warm on your cold belly. Through the skin, he could feel his sons inside of you, barely feeling them press against you. “Your hands feel so warm.”

“Why didn’t you call if you were stuck on the couch? I would’ve come home sooner.”

“I would’ve, but I put my phone on the coffee table like an idiot and I sat down right when I realized.” You felt a pull at your throat and a sting in your eyes. “And I’m too big and fat to get up on my own, so-”

“Hey, hey- You’re not fat.” Chris stood up, his hands leaving from under your dress to grab your shoulders gently. He looked you dead in the eye, brows knit with worry. “You’re pregnant. We’re having twins.” He brought his thumb up to wipe away the tear you didn’t know you had rolling down your cheek. “Look, I have just one more week and then I’m yours for the next six months. I’m at your beck and call, I’ll get you whatever you want when you want it. I’ll do everything for you.” He brushed the hair away from your face and drew you in closer until your big belly was pressed against his sculpted one. “I love you, (Y/n). This is all just a part of the process. I promise you, it will all be over soon.”

“I don’t think I can do another four weeks, Chris-”

“You can. You’re so strong, angel.”

“I can’t even get up out of bed in the morning right anymore.” Your hormones were raging like a bull and you quickly found yourself bawling your eyes out. “I knock so much shit over. Most of my maternity clothes don’t fit. I can’t bend over to do anything around here without almost tipping over! I can barely breathe because my guts are all squished up into my chest.” Chris wiped away your tears as quickly as he could. “I’m just over it, Chris!”

“I know, I know, sweetheart. You don’t have much longer to go.”

“I can’t even hug you right-”

You found yourself hiccuping, wiping at whatever tears Chris couldn’t get with the collar of your dress.

“That’s okay; I know what you’re trying to do. You’re doing the best you can.”

Your cries and hiccups slowly came to a stop as you and Chris both stood there in your living room. Chris had tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. Even now when your face is all wet and sticky and your eyes are a bit red, nose runny and lips quivering; He thought you couldn’t be more beautiful.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled out.

“Don’t worry about it, angel. This happens.” You both stood there in silence. You nervously chewed at your bottom lip as you tried to calm down a bit more while Chris continued to trace invisible patterns on your cheeks while looking down at you with those lovely blue eyes. “Can I show you something?”

You didn’t respond verbally, only nodding as you sniffled. Chris carefully turned you to your side before bending over again. You suddenly gasped when you felt your feet swing off of the floor, hands snatching onto Chris’ brawny shoulders as he hoisted you into his arms bridal-style. It always felt so magical when he would do this. But now? You really felt weightless in his arms as he effortlessly scooted you up a bit in his arms and started on a trek up the stairs and through the house. He nudged the door of your bedroom open with his boot and slowly entered.

He set you down on the floor just beside the bed and stayed behind you. He pointed your head towards the floor-length mirror by the closet and turned your body to face it as well. He was so much taller than you, and so broad and muscular. He dragged you until your back was flush with his front and Chris brought his hands up to embrace your belly from behind.

“Look at you,” he purred in your ear. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“Chris-”

“I love the way you look.” He pressed a kiss right below your ear. “It almost makes me wanna get you pregnant again.”

His hands ran along the rounded curve of your pregnant belly, massaging at your sore hips and rubbing the underside.

“You better not.” You and Chris both shared a laugh. You watched as Chris seemed mesmerized with your belly. “Labor’s gonna be a pain. They’re gonna punch a hole through me”

“I know I was bitch coming out of my mom,” Chris smirked. “I was a pretty big baby. There was one photo on the day I was born of my dad holding me up like I was a prize winning catch.” That earned a laugh from the both of you. “You can ask Claire. When my mom was in labor with her, she came out so fast, my dad swore it was because I made the hole big enough. She slid right out like she was all buttered up.”

You found yourself laughing at that. While as horrifying as it sounds, it was honestly pretty funny. Your hands came up to join Chris’ just as your sons started up on their antics again, pushing up against your belly some more.

“Looking forward to it,” you stated as plainly as you could with a smile on your face.

#resident evil #re #chris redfield x reader #chris x reader

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