#And of course this lady also wrote it for a man and when you have a dungeon in her mind its all about you know what fucking MAKES her her
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Last Day of a Condemned Woman (Veilguard Female Rook/Emmrich)
Beware spoilers for Emmrich's quest line.
Okay so I wrote a little something thinking about the day Johanna would receive her punishment and Emmrich and Rook would have to say goodbye to her. Set after the events of the game.
It's a bit sad but also domestic Rook and Emmrich!
Enjoy!
«Darling, have you seen my collar pin ? » Emmrich’s strained voice was heard from the bedroom, distant noises of his shuffling around reaching Rook’s ears.
« I believe it would be in the box where you always put it away, on the nighstand ? » She replied from the living room.
« I already searched there an it wasn- » Emmrich started before he interrupted himself, then grumbled something intelligible. « Nevermind, I found it ! » He told her from afar.
Rook chuckled to herself. Emmrich was obviously stressed. It was unusual for him to misplace his belongings. He was a very organized and tidy man ; except for the eventual stray papers and books that could litter his desk when he was really engrossed in his studies. So much so that when Rook moved in with him, she didn’t quite feel at home in the space that he had inhabited alone for years. But that was ancient history. Now his cosy but spacious residence in Nevarra was their home. And Manfred’s of course.
Emmrich was stressed but he had reasons to be. Today was a big day.
« Urgh, now he has memory impairement.. I cannot fathom how you decided to attach yourself to that senile sentimental you call ‘husband’ » Johanna’s voice echoed from her skull under the glass container that Rook carried her in.
Husband. That notion was familiar too now. It had been a few years already since Rook and Emmrich exchanged vows, first alone in the intimacyof the Necropolis’ garden where they first kissed, with Shroud’s Kiss flowers in her hands and hair, and then in style with the people they loved in the beautiful scenary of her native Arlathann.
Rook sighed at Johanna’s usual bickering but didn’t grace her with a reply. That onlt served to irritate the undead more.
« I heard you again last night you know ! How that decrepit weakling can go at it like that without breaking his osteoporotic bones is beyond me ! »
It wasn’t the first time Johanna said something crass of the sort, yet Rook still blushed, remembering the events of the previous night. What started with her gently holding her troubled husband turned into less chaste activities to keep his mind off things when he got frustrated that he couldn’t find sleep.
It was a delightfuly tender moment, and a good way to then spend a good night. But Rook didn’t really want to share that with a half-liche power hungry necromancer.
« Jealous Johanna ? » Rook grinned, regaining her composure and usual cockiness. « You won’t be getting any anytime soon I fear »
Johanna only huffed indignantly.
After a beat of silence, Rook asked more gently. « So, ready for the big day ? »
« You mean the day I finally get to leave that sickenly sweet home of yours ? » Johanna scoffed again.
Rook was used to her antics, that old lady didn’t know how to express herself in any other way.
« At least my ordeal will end there » Johanna dramatically added.
Those Necromancers really had a thing for the dramatic.
The corners of Rook’s lips turned down. « It would be okay to be afraid you know » She said, lower this time.
« Afraid ?! Me ?! » Johanna of course was offended. « Unlike Volkarin I am not a coward »
She paused and the silence felt heavy in the room.
« I’ll face whatever will come, like I did everything else » Her voice came from the skull, quieter this time.
Rook’s fingers ran over the glass of Johanna’s highly warded prison, almost synmpathetically. After a long trial, as well as years of researches and discussions, the Liche Masters of the Mourn Watch adjudicated the case of Johanna Hezenkoss, as well as the punishment for her crimes. And the day of judgement was this very one.
After a ritual in which Emmrich was to participate, Johanna’s soul would be cut from any contact with the fade, and then, all maimed and powerless, would be imprisonned in a forgotten dark corner of the Necropolis, guarded by spirits and warded by the most powerful of spells, for eternity. As a mage, Rook likened her fate to being made Tranquil. A fate worse than death, and a life of suffering for a soul that wouldn’t be complete anymore. It was a fate she wouldn’t have wished upon even such an ennemy.
Dear Emmrich in all his kindness and idealism voted against that cruel punishment, but he sadly wasn’t part of the decisive majority.
« I’ll miss you Johanna » Rook half jested half confessed.
All these years they had kept her, for it was Emmrich’s duty to watch her. When they could have put her away in an abandonned room, they chose to keep her in Emmrich’s study. Guarding her was a duty he took very seriously (like he always did with work), and which also allowed him to regularly converse with an old friend (on the rare occasions where said friend was in a good enough mood not to insult him). Johanna had been part of their lives since the Veilguard, and seeing her go was like turning a page over years of their shared lives.
If Rook felt nostalgic, she couldn’t begin to picture how Emmrich felt on this day. Given how long he took to get dressed, it must have been worse than she thought.
« Of course you’ll miss me » Johanna retorted « I’m the only interesting person in this house ! »
Rook didn’t pay attention to her and asked Manfred to go check on Emmrich.
- - -
If the Necropolis could sometimes feel warm, intimate and inviting, the room where they stood felt as cold as ice.
Emmrich stood before Rook in his elegant gold and black ceremony attire. The wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and of his lips were deeper than when they met, from age and from smiling so much since then. There was more white now than grey in his hair, but he still looked most dashing of all the necromancers present. However Rook could tell his posture was stiff and his shoulders tensed when he carefully took the glass container that held Johanna’s skull in his gloved hands.
« Thank you for accompanying me today darling » He whispered as not to disturb the ambiant calm.
« Of course. Wouldn’t want to miss Johanna’s retirement party » She joked to try and alleviate the heavy tension in the air.
« You know you won’t be able to attend dearest »Emmrich seriously replied. She knew that, he already told her so, but she let it slide. « And it’s best you don’t. The ritual might be… difficult to handle for unprepared souls»
Emmrich was frowning and Rook knew he wasn’t eager to participate in the curse Johanna would be put under. She wished she could support him further. She placed one hand over his and squeezed gently ; she couldn’t do much more.
« Let us get this over with » Vorgoth’s voice echoed behind them.
Emmrich let out a deep sigh and gave Rook an admitedly melancholic smile. « See you soon darling »
Rook waved and let out a casual « Bye Johanna » trying not to let emotion fill her. Her goodbye got no answer.
Manfred stepped beside her and watched Emmrich walk to the other necromancers, observing, curious as ever.
« Sad ? » He asked.
He kept surprising Rook everyday with how much he improved in magic, language, and these days even grasping human emotions, trying to understand them in his own way.
« Yeah. Saying goodbye is always a bit sad »
Manfred nodded with a contemplative whistling sound.
- - -
The group of mages performing the ritual was already in place. All Emmrich had to do now was open the large ornated doors of the grand auditorium and join them. This would be over soon and he would go back home with Rook and Manfred and forget about the horror of it all.
Taking another slow shaky breath to calm his nerves, he went for the door handle when a short call of « Volkarin ! » stopped him, making him jump in surprise.
He eyed down Johanna’s skull, blinking twice then clearing his throat to regain his composure. « What is it Johanna? Last words or requests maybe ? » He asked kindly, ready to listen to her like he would anyone on the verge of dying. She did terrible things in the past, but he still made it a point to respect the final wishes of a sentenced soul.
Johanna didn’t answer immediately, and Emmrich started wondering if she was stalling. But then her voice came out, low and softer, just how he remembered it from their shared years as students.
« Will you be there until the end of the ritual ? »
Emmrich’s gaze softened « I will » He promised.
A beat of silence. Then a voice from inside urging him.
« Be more strict with the wayward company you dare call a family would you ? » Johanna said when he reached for the door again. He stopped but before he could retort, she whispered her last words.
« Live long, and live well, you impossible man »
- - -
Rook was tapping her foot nervously when the large doors of the auditorium finally opened. Waiting for Emmrich had felt like an eternity. She kept worrying something would go wrong. Johanna was full of surprises, and it wouldn’t have been past her to try and get out of her sentence with a few dirty tricks. She was relieved to see only calm necromancers exit the room, unharmed. Everything seemed to have gone right.
Now to see in what state of sorrow she would get her soft husband back.
Emmrich was the last to exit, stepping away from the group carrying the funeral urn in which the remains of what once was Johanna were trapped. He didn’t spare a word to anyone and rushed to rejoin with Rook. He stopped before her, looking down, inhaling deeply before he straightened up, repositionning his already perfectly adjusted collar.
« It is done » He told her, nodding his head solemnly.
When he looked up to meet Rook’s eyes, she saw how misty his warm brown gaze was. She tenderly raised a hand to cradle his cheek and gently wipped an unshed tear from the corner of his eye.
Emmrich leaned into the touch for a short moment of indulgence, then sniffed and cleared his throat, stepping back. « The ritual was messy ; old books, bones, dust everywhere... » He mumbled, keeping his crying in check with a rub of his gloved thumb under each eye. Of course he would blame it on allergies. He probably didn’t want the others to see how affected he was.
Watchers were supposed to be at peace with loss and accept it with detachment. Emmrich’s tender heart never quite achieved that, but to Rook, it only made him more human and more lovable.
Rook took his hand and slowly traced his pulsepoint with her thumb. « My dear husband, the love in your heart overflows it seems. » She smiled just for him. « Let’s get you home to a nice warm cup of tea »
« Home ! » Manfred chirped in, excited. « Tea and biscuits ! » He raised his arms in the air. « With sugar ! » He then added, mimicking the sugar clamp he loved so much with his hand. The spirit’s show of enthusiasm made Emmrich chuckle, the sound still a bit wet from his tears.
« Yes my dears. Let us go home »
#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#johanna hezenkoss#manfred the skeleton#veilguard spoilers#dragon age veilguard#emmrich fanfic#dragon age fanfiction#dragon age the veilguard#da veilguard#da4#manfred dragon age#dragon age emmrich#emmrich romance#rook dragon age#dragon age : the veilguard
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Penelope Featherington deserves to be public adored and worshiped. She spent a lifetime being invisible and voiceless - wich is the reason for Whistledon and the face place.
She wrote it for herself, because she had no one to talk about, no one that would hear it - we have to remember that Eloise debuted a year after her, for context. Being a wallflower is also the reason Pen can be Whistledown. She is underrated and not seen.
There's this beautful moment in the books where Colin makes a speach to the whole ton informing how witt she is. In fact, he says:
"I wasn't surprised that I had fallen in love with her, but rather that it had taken so long. I've known her for so many years, you see, and somehow I'd never taken the time to look inside, to see the beautful, briliant, witty woman she'd become. Therefore, with all of you here as my witnesses, I would like to say - Penelope - I love you. I adore you. I worship the ground you walk upon".
And procides to make everybody in the ton do a toast for his wife.
Penelope get's really surprised. She's not expecting it. She actually could feel the tears trickling down her face, but she couldn't move. She could barelly breath. She had expected him to reveal her secret, and instead he was giving her this incredible gift, this spectacular declaration of love.
Then Colin indeed reveal the secret:
"I have one last thing to say. One last little thing, in case you still don't believe me when I tell you that my wife is the wittiest, cleverest, most enchanting woman in all London. You might say my wife has two maiden names. Of course you all know her as Penelope Featherington, as I did. But what you didn't know, and what even I was not clever enough to figure out until she told me herself is that she is also the brilliant, the witt, the breattakingly magnificent - Oh, you all know who I am talking about. I give you my wife! Lady Whistledown!"
People seem to forget, but Penelope IS a powerful woman in both the show and the books. Having Colin be the one to tell she's Whistledown doesn't erase it. And It is so so important for her as a character. For this romantic woman who's been in love with this man for about half of her life, who wasn't take seriously, who wasn't seen, to have him public declaring his love... Is a moment when Colin decides to choose her, all of her, no matter the consequences.
The Whistledown reveal is one of the most iconic scenes in the book serie. It is romantic. It closes Colin character arc as he is jealous and worried and separates Pen from Whistledown is him mind as if they were 2 different women. But in this moment he embrances Whistledown while also loving and acepting ALL of Penelope shameless. While also brings this Pen to center stage and makes her seen.
The show version of this scene, from my point of view, not only removes Colin from the Whistledown plot somehow as it denies Penelope of being revered in front of a society that underrated, underapreciated, didn't see nor heard her. It denies Penelope to watch Cressida scream in the audience while being public unmasked from pretending to be Whistledown while they also don't acept her blackmail. Instead of it, Cressida, her bully, recives yet another opportunity to speak and justify herself. At the end, the scene is not remembered by the reveal nor the love declaration, but by the quote "now, Varley, the bugs!"
I'm sorry. But I don't see this scene change/adaptation as an empowerment for Pen. I see this as a decion made by a writer who doesn't understand Penelope - in the sence of being a wallflower. Someone who's not familiar with the sentiment of beying underrated, unseen or unheard an therefore judge being reverenced and supported in such a puclic way unimportant for Penelope.
I believe it is.
#penelope bridgerton#penelope featherington#colin bridgerton#polin#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton#my commentary#book lore i guess#romancing mister bridgerton#bridgerton books#lady whistledown#whistledown reveal
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.
In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"
"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."
It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"
In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."
Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.
***
In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.
***
The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.
***
By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"
I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"
She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."
"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.
When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.
***
By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.
***
Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.
1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
So here's one of the coolest things that has happened to me as a Tolkien nut and an amateur medievalist. It's also impacted my view of the way Tolkien writes women. Here's Carl Stephenson in MEDIEVAL FEUDALISM, explaining the roots of the ceremony of knighthood: "In the second century after Christ the Roman historian Tacitus wrote an essay which he called Germania, and which has remained justly famous. He declares that the Germans, though divided into numerous tribes, constitute a single people characterised by common traits and a common mode of life. The typical German is a warrior. [...] Except when armed, they perform no business, either private or public. But it is not their custom that any one should assume arms without the formal approval of the tribe. Before the assembly the youth receives a shield and spear from his father, some other relative, or one of the chief men, and this gift corresponds to the toga virilis among the Romans--making him a citizen rather than a member of a household" (pp 2-3). Got it?
Remember how Tolkien was a medievalist who based his Rohirrim on Anglo-Saxon England, which came from those Germanic tribes Tacitus was talking about? Stephenson argues that the customs described by Tacitus continued into the early middle ages eventually giving rise to the medieval feudal system. One of these customs was the gift of arms, which transformed into the ceremony of knighthood: "Tacitus, it will be remembered, describes the ancient German custom by which a youth was presented with a shield and a spear to mark his attainment of man's estate. What seems to the be same ceremony reappears under the Carolingians. In 791, we are told, Charlemagne caused Prince Louis to be girded with a sword in celebration of his adolescence; and forty-seven years later Louis in turn decorated his fifteen-year-old son Charles "with the arms of manhood, i.e., a sword." Here, obviously, we may see the origin of the later adoubement, which long remained a formal investiture with arms, or with some one of them as a symbol. Thus the Bayeux Tapestry represents the knighting of Earl Harold by William of Normandy under the legend: Hic Willelmus dedit Haroldo arma (Here William gave arms to Harold). [...] Scores of other examples are to be found in the French chronicles and chansons de geste, which, despite much variation of detail, agree on the essentials. And whatever the derivation of the words, the English expression "dubbing to knighthood" must have been closely related to the French adoubement" (pp 47-48.)
In its simplest form, according to Stephenson, the ceremony of knighthood included "at most the presentation of a sword, a few words of admonition, and the accolade." OK. So what does this have to do with Tolkien and his women? AHAHAHAHA I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. First of all, let's agree that Tolkien, a medievalist, undoubtedly was aware of all the above. Second, turn with me in your copy of The Lord of the Rings to chapter 6 of The Two Towers, "The King of the Golden Hall", when Theoden and his councillors agree that Eowyn should lead the people while the men are away at war. (This, of course, was something that medieval noblewomen regularly did: one small example is an 1178 letter from a Hospitaller knight serving in the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem which records that before marching out to the battle of Montgisard, "We put the defence of the Tower of David and the whole city in the hands of our women".) But in The Lord of the Rings, there's a little ceremony.
"'Let her be as lord to the Eorlingas, while we are gone.' 'It shall be so,' said Theoden. 'Let the heralds announce to the folk that the Lady Eowyn will lead them!' Then the king sat upon a seat before his doors and Eowyn knelt before him and received from him a sword and a fair corselet."
I YELLED when I realised what I was reading right there. You see, the king doesn't just have the heralds announce that Eowyn is in charge. He gives her weapons.
Theoden makes Eowyn a knight of the Riddermark.
Not only that, but I think this is a huge deal for several reasons. That is, Tolkien knew what he was doing here.
From my reading in medieval history, I'm aware of women choosing to fight and bear arms, as well as becoming military leaders while the men are away at some war or as prisoners. What I haven't seen is women actually receiving knighthood. Anyone could fight as a knight if they could afford the (very pricy) horse and armour, and anyone could lead a nation as long as they were accepted by the leaders. But you just don't see women getting knighted like this.
Tolkien therefore chose to write a medieval-coded society, Rohan, where women arguably had greater equality with men than they did in actual medieval societies.
I think that should tell us something about who Tolkien was as a person and how he viewed women - perhaps he didn't write them with equal parity to men (there are undeniably more prominent male characters in The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, at least, than female) but compared to the medieval societies that were his life's work, and arguably even compared to the society he lived in, he was remarkably egalitarian.
I think it should also tell us something about the craft of writing fantasy.
No, you don't have to include gut wrenching misogyny and violence against women in order to write "realistic" medieval-inspired fantasy.
Tolkien's fantasy worlds are DEEPLY informed by medieval history to an extent most laypeople will never fully appreciate. The attitudes, the language, the ABSOLUTELY FLAWLESS use of medieval military tactics...heck, even just the way that people travel long distances on foot...all of it is brilliantly medieval.
The fact that Theoden bestows arms on Eowyn is just one tiny detail that is deeply rooted in medieval history. Even though he's giving those arms to a woman in a fantasy land full of elves and hobbits and wizards, it's still a wonderfully historically accurate detail.
Of course, I've ranted before about how misogyny and sexism wasn't actually as bad in medieval times as a lot of people today think. But from the way SOME fantasy authors talk, you'd think that historical accuracy will disappear in a puff of smoke if every woman in the dragon-infested fantasy land isn't being traumatised on the regular.
Tolkien did better. Be like Tolkien.
#tolkien#middle earth#jrr tolkien#lord of the rings#lotr#the lord of the rings#eowyn#writing fantasy#fantasy#female characters#writing#historical fiction#medieval women#medieval history#medieval#history#womens history
9K notes
·
View notes
Text
If I Could Never Give You Peace
( bllk boys when your secret relationship is leaked by paparazzi)
a/n — wrote this on a whim after listening to peace by taylor swift
content — some nsfw but not explicit, fem! reader, cursing , all characters are 18 or 18+, slight ooc maybe?, some characters are repeated
synopsis — what happens when your relationship is leaked?
⋆.˚���🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' everyone thought you'd broken up '
listen, you knew dating a good soccer player in high school was a big deal, but you didn't realize how big of a deal it really was when he went pro.
this was the same boy ( now man) that you'd been dating since you were 14, so nothing really changed your views on him. if you could love him through his awkward phase, and he could love you through yours, there was no way you'd break up.
again, you didn't realize that your relationship was such a big deal. it wasn't that the two of you were a secret, it was more of a 'private not secret' situation.
so when the two of you woke up in your shared bed because of just how many notifications the both of you were getting, you knew something was up.
and low and behold, something was wrong. when you opened any social media the first thing you saw was a strangely amazing photo of you and your long-term boyfriend kissing. really, if it wasn't a paparazzi photo, it would be your lock screen.
"aren't we just the cutest?" he asked you, phone thrown back onto his bedside table as if he didn't have a care in the world. (and he really didn't, not in this case)
truly, the only thing that may make him angry in this whole situation is the fact that he got woken up far earlier than his usual routine by all the commotion.
but of course, as he was dozing back off, you were reading the comments, as any loyal significant other would.
soccerluvr45: omg is that is gf from high school? i thought they broke up
okay, yeah. he had a rather public instagram account in high school that his rabid fans had found that had pictures of the two of you, but you'd never broken up?
reading through the many comments, it was like everyone had collectively decided the two of you'd broken up.
"mhm...just ignore it. the pr lady will deal with it." he mumbled as he grabbed your phone from your hands, laying it beside his before wrapping his arms around you.
"go to bed, 's too early to deal with all this."
his fans were silly, if they could see you with this bed-head man right now, they'd see there was no way the two of you would ever break up.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, yo hiori, NIJIRO NANASE, hyoma chigiri
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' pr nightmare '
anyone who knew your boyfriend knew he was...a little extreme.
and unfortunately for you, this also applied when your relationship became public because of a slight slip of focus from the two of you. it wasn't that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret, you'd already been together a year now, but you also weren't trying to out yourselves.
yet, one singular minute when the two of you slipped away to the bathroom together at a soccer banquet...well lets just say a paparazzi was scarily ready to snap someone, anyone's, photo.
so here you were, sitting in a terrifyingly big office with your boyfriend and almost his entire management team.
"do you know what this could do to your reputation?" his manager asked. "it's just two adults doing adult things, they should've been in that bathroom! that would've gotten them—"
"okay, sir..."the pr woman cut him off, ever too enthusiastic to be talking about your private lives.
"you just need to ignore all of this until it goes away, alright? no press interviews after games anymore," she sighed as if this was basic comprehension. (your boyfriend wasn't the smartest but he also didn't need to be treated like an idiot.) "and no posting on any social medias for the time being. do you understand?"
"yeah, yeah. no talking to the grown men after games. and..."he grimaced at the thought of his next condition. " c'mon is posting on my socials that bad? i don't post about us anyways."
"at. all." and the room felt as icy as the pr woman's stare.
"yeah, no, okay i got it. no social media."
after another thirty minutes of this, with them saying basically the same stuff to you (even though you had no real social media presence anyways), you guys finally left.
"no fucking posting? what if i have to talk about a game coming up?" "i'm sure she knows how to do her job, love." you soothed your boyfriend as you got in the car the company arranged to have you two taken up with.
"yeah, well whatever. give me your hand," and who were you to say no to your boyfriend?
he took your hand and placed it on his neck, a place where you could see a few bites and hickeys if you really looked hard enough.
before you could protest he took a picture, posting it on his VERY public account with the caption...
' i love my woman ;) '
before turning off his phone completely.
"let's see them try to get ahold of me now."
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RYUSEI SHIDO, tabito karasu, EITA OTOYA, oliver aiku
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' what picture ? '
how do two chronically offline people realize their relationship is now under scrutiny by the entire world?
the simple answer is...they don't!
you've never been interested in social media the way other girls your age had been. really, you'd rather just watch a video essay on every little topic that interests you than sit and watch six second videos then scroll all day.
to say the least, fast and forever changing social media just wasn't your thing.
and your boyfriend? he hardly even used his phone. unless it was for business or you, the thing was practically shoved away somewhere he couldn't care less about.
he would rather be reading or spending time with you out on a date...which is exactly the predicament the paparazzi put you in earlier this week.
the two of you were photographed having a little picnic and reading date at a small park that was pretty far out of town, assuming no one there knew, or even cared, enough to take a picture, but alas, someone did.
you and he had spent the rest of your week in pure, relaxed bliss. he had a game on saturday, so besides him going to practice and working out, the two of you stayed inside almost all week to prepare for the rather hectic weekend.
to say the game was a nail biter would be the understatement of the century. after two additional times, it was your boyfriend who scored the winning goal.
of course, you cheered the loudest, not noticing plenty of fans eyes on you unlike how many used to just chalk you up as an ecstatic fan.
as the post game interview came for him, you decided to stay closer to the door just incase it ran short. sometimes it was a one and done for him and others the questions went on for at least fifteen minutes, it just depended on his mood.
of course, the first question was about his game winning goal, but the second one threw him and you for a loop.
" what do you have to say about the photos of you and your reported girlfriend that have come out this past week? "
"...huh? what photos?"
eventually, the two of you did see the pictures, and all you could do was laugh because...how had you two not found out about this?
and you also made the picture your phone lock screen, but he didn't have to know that.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RIN ITOSHI, reo mikage, SAE ITOSHI, chigiri hyoma
⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
[ + your faves ! ]
i wrote this in about an hour, and i think it shows but i had to get it out of my brain :))
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
#airy posts#airy writes for blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk x female reader#nagi x reader#hiori x reader#blue lock#blue lock x reader#nanase nijiro#chigiri x reader#shidou ryusei x reader#karasu x reader#eita otoya x reader#oliver aiku x reader#rin itoshi x reader#reo mikage x reader#sae itoshi x reader#x reader#female reader#blue lock x female reader#bllk fluff#fluff#blue lock fluff
710 notes
·
View notes
Note
omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on 🥺 the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕
omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead
I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here
Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3
Defending Their Honor
Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader
Word Count: 3.9k (oops)
Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.
Masterlist
Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.
☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”
☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though
☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed
☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence
☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home
Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public.
The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.
So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.
It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared.
He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.
But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.
Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?
He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.
He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over.
You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.
You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo…” He began, eyeing you curiously.
“I may or may not have slapped someone,”
His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario.
“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries.
“No! No, it’s….nothing like that,”
His eyebrows furrowed. “Then….?”
Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?
When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.
“I know you just saw me with someone.”
“So?”
“Not interested,”
“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”
That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline.
Xavier was….so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.
Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap.
You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly.
Xavier almost giggled.
“So….you slapped him?”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.
Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.
“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”
“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious.
Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else.
After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”
❅ okay listen I love Zayne
❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)
❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary
❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name
Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient.
The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).
Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here.
By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave.
It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.
He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car.
Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress.
A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color.
The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss.
While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted.
The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand.
It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.
“I…may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid.
“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated.
You swallowed.
“I can…”
Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”
You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping.
While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?
And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of.
Zayne.
Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.
At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior.
And then, she just….kept going.
Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled.
You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing.
Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him.
Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.
For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?
He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist.
You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke.
“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,”
You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”
He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”
You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”
❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??
❀ yeahhhh
❀ but also.....feelings
When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course.
It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,”
The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either.
Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art.
That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding.
It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel.
Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night.
Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted.
“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?”
You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled.
“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,”
“It’s different,”
“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,”
“Rafayel. You were the art,”
Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence.
You were the art.
The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter.
You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him.
You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.
He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause.
He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates.
“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,”
Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest.
This would forever stick out as one of those moments.
⟡ Soft Sylus.
⟡ Soft Sylus.
⟡ SOFT SYLUS.
Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he.
After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension.
Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you.
It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of? The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in?
While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field.
Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.
The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes.
The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it.
Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.
One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard.
The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear. “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.”
Oh?
In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.
“I’d like to see you try,”
Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.
Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.
Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”
You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a… ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway. So why did this piss you off so badly?
“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.
Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”
Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing.
It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.
At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.
Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself.
Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions.
You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.
Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment.
“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”
You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.
Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout.
“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just…disrespectful.”
Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room.
Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you.
Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.
Yeah, he had it bad.
“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out.
Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace headcanons#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace zayne#lnds rafayel#lnds xavier#lnds zayne#lnds sylus#lads sylus#lads rafayel#lads zayne#lads xavier#lads x reader#lnds x reader#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#lads angst#lnds angst#lnds fluff#lads fluff#lads headcanons#lnds headcanons#scottiexmariee
650 notes
·
View notes
Note
happy birthday! I'm here for 🏖️ ... can i request cregan x reader, and the word/trope is 'sister'? thanks!
ha ha. HAHAHA you’re so funny 😐 jokes on you because i’m writing it @eldrith
the secret of us | c.s
word count: 1k
author's note: this is my first time writing cregan so pls be gentle 🙂↕️also unbeta’d bc i wrote this for my beta bestie sister wife <3 (cringe)
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“You wanted to speak, so speak.”
Stilling, you held your breath, hearing the voices next door. You were in the library - not the large one, accessible to everyone - no, you were in Cregan’s personal library. Calling it a library was generous, it was merely a small room right next to his study.
The same study, in which Cregan was holding council apparently, with what seemed to be Lord Karstark. The sound of the door shutting made you nervous; it must be an important meeting. You pressed yourself against the wall; you wouldn’t face any dire consequences if you were discovered, but it would be uncomfortable either way.
The chairs scraped against the stone floor as both men took their seats, Lord Karstark let out a small sigh.
“Your twenty fourth name day was a moon ago.”
Silence followed and you couldn’t see Cregan, but you just knew he was staring at Lord Karstark, waiting for him to continue. Lord Karstark took a breath, like he knew Cregan wouldn’t like the words that would follow.
"It is time for you to find a wife."
Your eye twitched at the prospect of Cregan taking a wife, despite knowing it was to be expected of him. His line of succession was at risk, with no direct heir. You had wondered when the time would come. Cregan let out a scoff, but there was no argument.
“I will consult the maester and we will have a list of suitable ladies ready for you on the morrow,” Lord Karstark said, his tone pleasant, like he hadn’t expected for Cregan to give in so easily. He guffawed however, when Cregan suddenly mentioned your name. You were in a similar state. Cregan couldn’t possibly be suggesting what you thought he was…
“What about her?” Lord Karstark asked carefully.
“What if I were to marry her?”
Your breath stocked in your throat and the book you were holding nearly slipped out of your grasp.
“She grew up in Winterfell, was raised on our customs. She would make a fine Lady Stark.”
“She’s your Ward.”
“She was my father’s Ward.”
Cregan’s voice was heated, and Lord Karstark stayed quiet and Cregan let out a displeased grunt.
"She's not my blood."
“She is your sister in everything but that,” Lord Karstark said. “It is not proper.”
“Leave.”
“My Lord,” Lord Karstark stammered. “I did not mean to insult you-”
“You said your piece,” Cregan stated, his tone even. “Leave. I have other business to attend to.”
The feet of the chair scraped against the stone floor again.
“My Lord.”
The door opened, before it shut again; but you still held your breath, hearing Cregan standing, moving around in his study. His heavy steps came towards the library and you quickly hurried to the furthest corner of the room, acting nonchalant when Cregan entered. If he was surprised to see you in the study, he did not let it show. He rarely did.
“Good day,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Cregan tilted his head, a silent greeting, as he watched you flit around the library.
Of course you had noticed his looks. His gaze lingering on you, the heated look on his face, the way his eyes followed along the line of your body. It wasn't how a man would look at his sister.
But you weren’t foolish enough to let yourself hope. He was the head of his house, the warden of the North, and you were merely a girl his father had taken in when you were a babe. You had nothing to offer were you to be Lady Stark.
The shelf next to the window caught your attention, and you slid the book you were holding back in its place as you studied the neighboring books.
“Find what you were looking for?”
You kept your gaze on the small book shelf, seeing Cregan move towards you out of the corner of your eyes.
“No,” you replied, glancing at him briefly before returning your eyes to the book spines. “Have you?”
You could feel the warmth of his hands before even touched you, his palms stretching around your ribcage as he flipped you around to face him, keeping his grip on your waist tight. Not tight enough to hurt, but just enough to make heat pool between your legs.
“Do not feign ignorance,” he whispered, one hand coming up to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear. “It does not become you.”
“I was not trying to listen,” you said defiantly, lifting your chin as you spoke. “Your voice travels.”
Cregan looked at you, a hint of a smile on his lips. It wasn’t often that he let his emotions show, but lately, it was more often than not. He stepped closer, his feet caging you in, his strong thighs brushing over your dress. Your hand came up to rest on his chest, an act of intimacy you rarely allowed yourself, but in the privacy of his study? It would be alright.
“What do you say?”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “To me being your wife?”
Cregan merely blinked at you, not filling the silence but you only sighed, looking away.
“Lord Karstark is against it,” you muttered, evasive. But Cregan wouldn’t have any of it, cupping your chin with his hand, gently turning you to face him.
“Who is he to tell me who I can marry or not?” he asked with a soft voice. “I only care what you think. If you will have me, I will fight anyone who dares to protest.”
A grin tugged on your lips and you cast your eyes down, but Cregan ducked his head to keep your gaze, a frown on his forehead, uncertainty filling him.
“Will you be my wife?”
“Oh for Gods’ sake,” you laughed, swatting at his chest. “Of course I will be your wife.”
A smile lit up Cregan's face and he leaned down to capture your lips with his, pressing your against the bookshelf. With a soft sigh, you reciprocated, your hand diving into his dark hair. His lips were hot against yours, stroking the heat between your legs into a fire, but he pulled away, letting out a soft breath.
"My wife, Lady Stark," he declared and you huffed, shaking your head.
"We are not wed just yet, husband," you reminded him with a grin, the title rolling off your tongue easily, but Cregan only pulled you closer, his arms settling around your waist.
"My heart has been yours from the moment we first kissed, my love. We might as well be wed."
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
author's note: also tagging my cregan girly @dipperscavern MY BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION IS STILL ONGOING!!! head to my inbox/check my pinned post🤍
#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan x reader#cregan x you#cregan stark x you#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark fanfiction#cregan stark fanfic#hotd#elles bday celly
674 notes
·
View notes
Text
ill break your shit adam
warning for adult lang
fuck you adam sandler
youre lucky karkat likes you
stupid fuck sees an amnesiac girl
and asks her can i marry you
that lady got issues mentally
you still down to do shit anally
deplorable zit on the ass of romanza
karkat told me to put that shit in this stanza
do raps even count as having stanzas
slam poetry tyke at preschool im no manza
youd probably jack it to a log with holes if they were wet ones
sitting on that stupid dock with her papa cracking cold ones
piece of shit id push you off that dock and watch you bubbling
kick your ass like her shitty bro failed when you were troubling
penguins dont quack like fucking ducks you dumbass
thats not part of the rap i just think that youre a dumbass
back to the rap sandler i bet you couldnt drop a single bar
too busy picking up stupid women at the stupid women bar
who even let you into hawaii
also did i say karkat liked you i was kidding he wants to kick your heinie
seriously watching that shit again made him start slamming his head into the cushions and screaming i had to pry them out his hands and he almost bit me
sorry i forgot i was rapping again
piece of shit forgot that you can like women while dating other men
still not over that chuck and larry shit adam
if you just said to the gov you were bi you coulda had em
firefighter of the year? well try putting out this heat
karkats gonna beat your ass like you do every night to your meat
gotta ask is this shit wish fulfilment for you
gotta say larry deserved better than you
i could treat him way better than you not in a gay way though
i just mean youre a massive sleaze basically the worlds shittiest bro
back to 50 first dates man sandler your shit is a bore
the stupid bits with schneider got my ass addicted to snore
if i was that stupid walrus id tear your ass to shreds
if i was that penguin i would also tear your ass to shreds
itd be harder but id still do it
bro fuck adam sandler im through it
===
TT: Wow. Bravo, Dave. You've outdone yourself.
TG: i wrote this one exceptionally fucking terrible to represent my inner darkness
TG: i can never unwatch those cinematic fossilized turds theyre like time capsules devoted to everything wrong with america
TG: you dont even understand how egregious that was
TT: I can sense the utter malaise and contempt in every word. It's beautiful.
TT: One particularly interesting point I'd like to make is the fact that you managed to refer to butts in a song about a male target, 10 times in the span of 37 lines. It's not an exorbitant amount, but it appears to be a running theme in your works. Very interesting, if you ask me --
TG: nooooo
TG: nope no
TG: not this shit again
TG: listen one of them is karkats fault
===
CG: ROSE, YOU JUST DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND WHAT HE'S DOING HERE AT ALL.
TT: No? Please, enlighten me Karkat.
CG: GLADLY.
CG: HE STARTS OUT WITH THE FRIGGIN WORD "ANAL" PRECEDING ALL OF THE OTHER MENTIONS, OF COURSE IT'S ON PURPOSE. IT INSTILLS THAT IMAGERY IN YOUR NUGBONE THROUGHOUT THE TRACK.
CG: AND YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED A RECURRING USE OF THE WORD "SHIT", IN TANDEM. BOG-STANDARD FOR DAVE, RIGHT? NO! IT'S PART OF THE EFFECT!
CG: MY THESIS: ADAM SANDLER MOVIES ARE PIECES OF ABSOLUTE SHIT AND THE REFERENCES TO WORDS LIKE "LOG" AND "SHIT" AND "ASS" ARE TO INVOKE THE SENSE OF TAKING A MASSIVE DUMP THROUGHOUT THE SPAN OF THE RAP, WHICH BY ALL MEANS WOULD BE AN EQUAL OR GREATER USE OF YOUR TIME THAN WATCHING THOSE MOVIES.
CG: RIGHT, DAVE?
TG: … yeah
TT: Okay, I'm willing to concede to that. On this subject matter, as an avid terrible movie enjoyer, you admittedly know better than myself.
CG: SHOULD KNOW BETTER.
TT: And you love them anyways.
CG: YEAH.
TG: hes right
TG: you hear that shit hes right
TG: fuck death of the author im verifying that interpretation
#davekat#dave strider#karkat vantas#rose lalonde#homestuck#made with instrumentals of ether by nas in mind#posting early bc im impatient#comix
785 notes
·
View notes
Text
DISEASE- P.B PARKER
Pairing- Peter x Fem! Reader (friends to lovers)
Word Count: 3.8k
Summary: You and your friend group head up to Peters infamious ski lodge weekend getaway, the same as every year. Except this year, theres tension in the air, and a masked man on the loose. Your actions have consequences....
(UNTIL DAWN INSPIRED) (but u dont need to play the game to read:) )
Warnings: SMUT, lowkey darkish peter, dumbification kink, mocking, size kink, fingering, teasing, creampie, swearing, foreplay? (peter gets off on y/n getting scared), mentions of booze and implications of torture
Notes: since the revamped verison of until dawn came out my obsession has came back full force, so i wrote a fic with marvel characters as if they were in until dawn! i wrote this in one sitting lol. its not lore accurate but..love josh washington.. so of course peter must be him....
"could play the doctor, i can cure your disease/ if you were a sinner, i could make you believe/ lay you down like one, two, three/ eyes roll back in ecstasy/ i can smell your sickness, i can cure ya/ cure your disease"- disease, lady gaga
You stared in dismay at the thin piece of paper that fluttered in the wind, barely clinging to the large iron gate by a thin piece of tape.
“Gate Broken. Climb over. -Steve”
Taking a breath, you gathered your wits about you, grumbling the whole way over to the side of the wall where the stone sides had started to crumble, giving you access to climb up and over. This was not the way you wanted to start your weekend getaway at Peters lodge, but it seemed you had no choice.
First your bus was late due to black ice, then your bag had dropped in the deep snow, the fabric dripping cold drips of water down your thin jacket. And now this.
Would anything go right this weekend?
You were nervous. You hadn’t seen the group in over a year, but once Peter had sent a text to the group, everyone had been quick to respond. You were excited to be back but also… anxious.
It had been a while since you had been here and what happened last time…
Your fingers stung as the stone dug into your palms, and you huffed chilled air as you tossed yourself over, feet tingling as you landed with an oomph. It wasn't far now to the ski lift. You’d be out of this cold, haunting forest soon enough, surrounded by your friends' warmth.
Especially Peter's warmth, a little voice in the back of your head chimed.
The longer you thought of him, the warmer your cheeks became, making your breaths turn to startled pants in the deep snow. You and Peter had been friends since the first year of college, which he then introduced you to the rest of the group.
Bucky, who had been Peter's best friend since childhood, Steve- the big flirt (not nearly as bad as Peter though), Natasha- who was Bucky's girlfriend, Wanda, her friend Matt, and Loki.
All of them had been welcoming to you, making you feel right at home as if you had been friends with them for years. But when things got out of hand last year at the lodge, when Peter's sister went missing… it was distant.
You had pushed that memory as far back as you could, so whenever you tried to conjure it to the surface it was murky. A prank had gone wrong, despite you begging to the group to end it- Peter passed out on the couch.
His sister had been so in love with Bucky and well…
You watched the lift inch towards you, the doors swinging open with a loud clang. You closed your eyes in prayer that this car wouldn't snap with you inside, the old thing barely inching faster than a snail's pace.
Surely if the Parkers were rich, they did maintenance checks regularly? You doubted it.
The glass inside was foggy, and you traced a heart on the window pane as you started to trudge up Blackwood Mountain. The scenery was beautiful, the sun starting to become covered by rolling clouds, the snow coating the trees below- but all you could think of was Peter.
You had always had a crush on him but recently it had turned dangerous. All you could think of was him. Ever since he had sent that text to the group, it was like a switch in your body had snapped. Like you were reminded- “oh shit, yes, yes I do like this man”.
And no amount of time or distance would change that.
Wanda and Natasha had always teased you, insisting Peter liked you back- but he flirts with everyone. You refused to believe it, not wanting to give your hopes up… in case they were playing a prank on you.
You couldn't help but worry about him though, with everything that had happened. You hoped he didn't resent anyone for what had happened that night.
You wished you could've stopped it, could've been there to wake him…
The car jutted to a stop and rocked back and forth, the door remaining shut. Oh fuck. You peered your head through the window in the door and saw Wanda with Matt, waiting at the stop. You banged on the door, snapping their attention over to you with a start.
“Could you open this? I'm uh.. Kinda stuck.”
Wanda laughed as she walked over to you, banging on the door before pressing the old button that took several seconds to work. Finally the doors swung open, leaving a loud creaking sound in their wake that echoed off the mountains.
“What, you didn't want to see us so you stayed in the car?” Matt called, a smirk on his lips as Wanda wrapped her arms around you, grasping you in a comforting embrace.
“Oooh I missed you girl! It's been so long since we've been back.” she smiled softly as Matt hugged you, taking the soaking backpack from your back. “I missed you guys too. Is anyone else here?”
“Everyone now I think. It's almost night-time, so I’m sure they're all waiting at the lodge for us.”
You bit your lip, nodding solemnly.
“Were you guys waiting long? Sorry, you didn't have to or anything, my bus was super late and the gate was broken…”
“What no! It's all good girl, Matt didn't mean anything by it. We’re just all so excited to see you.”
“Especially Peter.” Matt laughed, and you put your head in your hands.
“Maybe he’ll warm you up Y/N, since it's so cold out here.” Wanda winked, making you giggle. “Well, let's hope he can warm my freezing buns up.” you snorted, earning a pat on the back from Matt.
“Atta girl. Maybe we’ll all get lucky tonight.” he said, and you flickered your eyes over to catch Wanda blushing deeply.
Wait.. were they? You didn't push it. You'd find out as the night went on.
Who knew what had happened in that year, maybe things had changed. You didn't have much time to think about it before you arrived at the lodge's entrance, warm light glowing from inside.
“You get the easy treatment. I heard Bucky and Peter had to break in and unmelt the lock.” Matt grimaced, and you couldn't help but laugh as you imagined Bucky falling flat on his ass through the window.
“Jesus. You guys just needed me here, I could have warmed the lock up with my hotness.”
“Damn straight bitch!” Wanda laughed as she unlatched the door, letting the warmth wash over your frozen bones. An eruption of cheers sounded from the blazing fireplace, drinks opened on the ground.
“She made it!” Steve called, rushing over to give you a bear hug, practically picking you up and swinging you around like a rag doll.
“Oh fuck youre freezing. Did you walk all the way up here?! Is that why you're late?”
You rolled your eyes. “No, my bus was late. I’m so sorry guys.”
“We thought you forgot about us.” Peter smirked, boyish charm radiating off of him, a lint in his eyes as he walked over to you, towering over you.
“Hi. I'm so sorry Peter, I swear-"
" I'm kidding you. Cmere.”
You wrapped your arms around his torso, breathing in his scent of musk and amber, his skin like fire compared to yours. “Fuck Steve was right. Shit, come sit by the fire.” he urged, and as if on cue, you shivered.
He helped you peel your cold layers off your body, hanging up your coat to dry. Bucky gave you a taste of his warm whisky, immediately making you splutter and grimace at the strong, overpowering taste.
Jokes were tossed around, and you found yourself in an easy rhythm with the group, as if nothing had ever happened. You looked to Peter in reassurance, already finding his eyes staring you down when you met his. He studied you as you talked to Natasha, drinking you in.
You tried to keep your composure, but the butterflies churned in your chest.
“Did you want to take a warm bath?” Peter asked, everyone turning to look at you as you shivered again.
“No, no it's okay Peter. Thank you though.”
“Are you sure? You're still freezing.” Loki nudged you with his leg from where he stretched out on the couch. Everyone looked at you with concern, Peter most of all.
“Okay maybe that would be nice. But that wont take away from what we're doing? I don't wanna just leave you guys.” you frowned.
“What?! No! Matt and I were gonna go for a walk around anyways, and I'm pretty sure Bucky, Loki and Steve wanted to dig out some spirit board anyways. Go take a bath and warm up, okay?” Wanda smiled softly at you, urging you to go with Peter.
“I just have to turn on the hot water.” He said, making his way over to the basement door. “I can come with you.” you offered.
“You sure? It's cold and dark.” You shrugged, honestly just wanting more time with Peter. “It's my bath, and I hear I’m pretty good at holding a flashlight.”
He laughed, tossing you his light. “Flashlight duty it is then.”
You followed him through the dark passageway, old stairs creaking under your weight as the little spotlight guided you onwards. The door slammed behind you with a slam, making you jump.
“Sorry, that always slams like that. This place is old as dirt.” You laughed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you shivered, not only from the cold but how eerie it was.
“Man, it's creepy down here.” you noted as you finally reached the crypt, barely being able to see anything but dark shadows in the far distance. “What, you can't handle a little cobwebs?” he teased, shooting you a wink as he made his way over to the pipes.
You followed him, giving him a playful smack across his solid bicep, aiming the light where he navigated. It was quiet all but the drip of water on the concrete concrete floor, and your heavy breaths.
“Peter?”
“Hm?” You started fidgeting nervously.
“Are- are you doing okay? I mean, with everything? Today was a hard day, so I just…”
“I’m okay. I just… can't think about it for too long, ya know? But I wanted us all together to celebrate. To take our minds off of it.” he shrugged, switching on the hot water at last.
“I understand. And, thank you for inviting me Peter. I really appreciate it, and if you need anything at all… we’re all here for you.” you softly smiled, sensing his pain and vulnerability.
“I know. And between you and me, I wish I could have only invited you.” he winked, hand reaching up as if he wanted to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he caught himself.
There were the flirty comments again.
“You’re really sweet Y/N. You’ve been what I’ve needed this year, ya know? Just the thought of you is enough to cheer me up. I’m really happy you could make it.”
You felt your cheeks start to heat under his gaze. You knew he had been in therapy for some time now, and you hoped the sessions helped him. You always thought maybe you could fix him, not that he needed to be fixed. He wasn't broken, he was just…
A loud bang sounded from the corner of the room and you jumped, instinctive leaning into Peter. “What was that?” you croaked quietly, flashlight starting to shake.
“I have no fuckin idea.” he murmmed, stepping in front of you, as if he was to shield you. “Should we.. Should we check it out? Maybe it's an old pipe or something?”
“Old pipes don't make that noise.”
You gulped. Suddenly, something lunged for you and you screamed, clinging to Peter's bicep as you two started to bolt towards the stairs, and you nearly tripped up them as the shadow rushed at you.
Stumbling up the stairs you almost made it to the door before you could hear laughing.
“Hah! You just got Bunked! Get it, like punked? But I did it, so it's Bunked.” Bucky howled with laughter as he tugged the dark sheet off his body. Peter chuckled along with him, but your eyes nearly popped from their sockets.
“You- well you fucking dick!” you screamed, stomping down the rickety steps to give him a peace of your mind. Smacking his chest you growled.
“What the fuck were you doing?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” you snarled, pawing at him with closed fists.
“Hey, hey I’m sorry okay! We always do pranks here. I had to, because of tradition.”
“Did you know about this?”
Peter rolled his eyes, moving closer to you. “Nope, but you're cute when you're scared. Don't act like you weren't clinging onto my bicep like a monkey just then.” Peter smirked coyly, winking.
“You're both dicks.” Peter mock gasped, turning to Bucky with eyes wide in bewilderment. “You hear that Buck? She thinks we’re dicks! Guess my chances of getting some are slim.” he snickered as you trotted up the stairs, giving them an eye roll before escaping back out into the main room.
----------------------------------------------------------
You weren't sure how long you stayed in the bath, but the water was cold. You woke with a start, eyes fluttering open as the chill sent little shocks down your body.
You must have fallen asleep in the tub, the night darker than ever.
A little candle flickered on the vanity, and you grabbed it as you wrapped yourself up in a towel, wet footsteps trotting across the hardwood floors. It was dead quiet in the lodge, not an echo of chatter from the main room. You knew people had probably gone exploring, or gone to sleep but this was eerily quiet.
Something felt off. Something was wrong.
“Guys? Hello?” you peered your head out and saw nothing but an empty hallway. With only the candle to lead you on your way, you slowly padded down the hall, poking your head into empty rooms.
“Was I really asleep that long?” you murmured to yourself as you finally found your room where Matt had dropped off your bag near the freshly made bed.
It was uncomfortably large the lodge, and you constantly felt a set of eyes following your frame. You set the candle down, shutting the door behind you as you went to rub your pjs.
If this was another prank they were playing… you would be pissed. Once was enough for the night. God knows you needed another heart attack.
Humming to yourself, you bent down to grab your lace panties from your bag, turning around only to scream.
A large man towered by the doorway, lingering in the darkness, body hidden in heavy overalls, gloves adorning his hands- a mask on his face.
You nearly dropped your towel, backing up and falling onto the bed. Scream dying in your throat as he got to you in two large strides, gloved hand covering your mouth as the other scooped you up, backside pressed against his large frame.
You whimpered into the leather, hot, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. “Please don't hurt me, please. Please..” you cried, muffled in his glove.
“You’re so pretty when you're scared, baby. You promise you won't scream if I remove my hand?”
You nodded frantically, willing to do anything this stranger told you to save yourself. You hiccuped on your sobs as he slowly removed his hand, instead allowing it to come up and stroke your hair gently as you cried in his arms.
“Shh, shh baby. Not a word okay?” the distorted voice asked and you nodded again, too scared to make a peep.
“You’re so, so pretty when you cry baby. You know that? You’re so hot when you’re scared. The way you held my bicep earlier? Just wanted to pick you up and pound your little body, fuck.”
Realisation dawned on you, eyes widening in shock.
“P-peter?” His arm let go and you stumbled onto the bed, scooting away from him as he took off the mask, revealing that glint of mischief in his eyes, that coy smirk on his lips as his tongue darted out to lick the lower one.
“What are you doing?” you asked softly. He tilted his head, studying you. “Pranking everyone else, like they did last year to us. Just thought I’d stop by to check in on you.” he smiled.
You gulped as the mask thudded to the ground. “Where is everyone else?”
“Oh they're all out. I was hoping some trauma bonding would make Wanda and Matt finally make that move, ya know? Maybe I’m doing them a favour.” he chuckled.
“But why.. Why were you dressed like that?” you asked, clutching your towel tighter to your breasts that poked out at the top as he slowly made his way closer to you.
“Just some harmless fun. Did it scare you?”
“Y-yeah.”
He pouted. “You're so pretty when you're scared. I'm sorry for making you cry sweetheart. You were just too good to resist.” he sighed, thumb brushing your tear stained cheek.
“I-its okay.” you stumbled over your words, flustered at his proximity, body growing hot at his touch and the hungry look in his eye as he stared down at you.
You squeezed your thighs together, trying to be subtle, but failing miserably. You felt your arousal leaking out of you down your thighs, and your breath was shaky.
You wanted him so bad. But what kind of sick fuck would you be for feeling this way? When he had scared you to death?
He looked you up and down, eyes lingering longer on your breasts, licking his lips hungrily.
He knew. He knew the effect he had on you.
“Now baby, tell me. Did you like that stunt I pulled just now?”
You were silent, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Did I make you flustered? Did that turn you on? Hm?” his low voice sent another pulse down your spine, and you clamped down on nothing. “Mhm.” you nodded.
His fingers gripped your chin, making you jolt with a start as he forced your eyes to meet his. “Do you like how helpless and weak you felt? Cause I did. I could do whatever I wanted to you baby, and no one would even know. It's just you and me.”
You whimpered, making him smirk. You felt yourself being backed up on the bed, Peter hovering over you as you lay flat under him.
You were his now. And fuck, if you didnt like it.
“P-peter-”
“You know how long I’ve wanted you baby? Fuck.”
“I-I wanted you too.” you confessed softly, looking up at him with doe eyes, already starting to feel your brain go fuzzy with his presence.
“Yeah? Even just then? You liked it, didn't you?”
“I.. I did like it.” you bashfully admitted, and he groaned.
“I knew you were a dirty girl. Aren't you? You want me to fuck you baby?” You nodded, hand slithering up to grasp his bicep, the way you knew he liked. He hissed, head dropping down to take a breath.
As if he was controlling himself, like an animal on a leash that threatened to snap. “So little under me. Such a cute lil thing, so breakable.” he sighed to himself as he pulled your hand away, hand lingering on your towel knot.
You met his eyes that pleaded, asking if he could go further. “M’ not breakable.” you murmured, taking his hand in yours to yank the towel loose, letting it come undone around your naked body.
He drank you in, having to reach down to adjust himself in his overalls. “We’ll see about that when I’m done with you.”
His fingers traced your smooth skin, a finger dragging down your abdomen, tapping your inner thighs, making you wiggle. “So responsive. You like when I touch you here?”
You nodded. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please touch me Peter. Please. Need you so bad it hurts, it hur-”
His fingers slid through your slick folds, rubbing your clit gently. “Shh shh that's it baby. You just sit still and I’ll take care of you, mkay? Gonna make you so dumb n helpless.” he cooed at you, your mouth parting in an o shape as his large finger slipped inside you, clenching around the digit.
“Gotta stretch you out. You’re so tight, fuck. Youre so hot, like a fuckin porn star.” Your back bowed off the bed as he worked your clit, the rough pad of his thumb taking over as he pumped two thick digits in you, curling just the way to make you moan.
“Peter, Peter f-fuck, feels so good-” you choked out, his palm splayed on your tummy to keep you from wiggling away.
“Yeah baby you gonna cum? Yeah?” he teased, his fingers slipping out at the last second, making you groan in protest, before he slammed home with his cock.
You gasped, screaming at the fullness, as he watched your face contort from pleasure to pain, back to pleasure again. Your mascara was smudged from your tears and he swore a hint of drool trickled from your lips, and fuck if it didnt turn him on even more.
“Is it too much for you honey? You gonna take it all?”
You couldn't even response, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you, snapping his hips hard and fast, letting the animal off the leash. He couldn't control himself any longer. He had wanted this for too long, and the idea of the two of you being alone, with no one around for miles made him snap his hips harder.
“Yeah you like when I fuck you? Youre so fucking slutty baby, letting some masked man fuck you. But you like it, don't you? I always knew you were a freak.” he growled, making you mewl, clinging onto him.
“Scream baby. No one can hear you.” he chuckled as he abused your cunt, the sound of skin merging with your juices making a squelching sound that mixed with your moans.
“I c-can’t, too much-” you slurred, making him cluck his tongue.
“Cum baby. Cum for me.”
That was all you needed to hear, orgasm rippling through you hard and rough as he continued to fuck you through it.
“Such a good girl. So wet, fuck. Fuck I’m gonna cum, fuck fuck Y/N, you’re so fuckin hot-” he growled, pace faltering as he reached his orgasim, shooting ropes of his sticky seed inside you.
The world was blurry, the room spinning as he stilled inside you, breathing heavily himself as he cooed down at you. “Baby? You with me?”
“Mhgm.” was all you could mutter out, body shaking and twitching from the overstimulation. “I’m gonna go clean you up okay? You gotta let go for two seconds.”
His soft, protective demeanour came back within seconds, as he slowly peeled your grip from his biceps, crescent moon shapes adorning them.
“When we’re all clean I gotta go clean some stuff up with them okay? And then we’ll have the whole place to ourselves and we can rest, pretty girl.”
#peter parker#dark!peter parker#peter parker fic#peter parker spiderman#peter parker fanfic#tasm peter#tasm fanfiction#tasm spiderman#tasm peter parker#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter imagine#peter parker smut#tasm andrew garfield#andrew garfield#andrew spiderman#andrew!peter imagine#andrew!peter smut#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter x reader#spiderman smut#spiderman fan#spiderman#spiderman fic#spiderman fanfiction#until dawn#peter parker fanfiction#andrewgarfieldedit
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
Marshall Mathers as your husband HC
A/N : wrote this kind of quickly. I was in a fluffy mood. And yeah, it was completely inspired by the vision of him in that suit in the Temporary video. 😅
* Marshall has said it loud and clear in interviews : he is done with marriage. However, he’s come to change his mind when he meets you.
* At the beginning of your relationship, he’s made it clear though : if you’re in search of a husband… well, you better search for someone else because he is not husband material. First of all, he doesn’t want to get married again. Second of all, he doesn’t think of himself as hubby material. He is very much aware of his flaws and trust issues and how that might get in the way. And, third of all, has he mentioned that he really doesn’t want to get married ?
* Anyone who knows him knows that it takes a miracle to change his views on marriage. And as it turns out, that miracle is you.
* You don’t even have to scheme or plan something elaborate in hope that he changes his mind. He is a big man who does it all by himself when he realizes what a privilege it is to have you as a wife.
* Before, he used to think that marriage equals duties. And, while it’s technically true, he soon realizes its full of privileges. And, too bad for him, you’re not giving away husband privileges to someone who only has subscribed to the boyfriend package.
* He thought he didn’t want to live with anyone. Be in a relationship ? Sure. But having to share his space and make arrangements ? Hell no ! At least, that was until he became obsessed with the idea of living with you. Seeing you everyday would not be enough. He wants to share your space, wake up next to you in the morning. He’s practically begging for your skincare products to invade his bathroom.
* When he brings up the possibility of maybe moving out together (because, you know, it’s convenient) and you say you don’t think it makes sense to give up on that independence unless you’re married and building something with someone, he is flabbergasted. Because how dares a lady turn down the opportunity to live with him ? But once his ego calms down, he soon comes to the conclusion that if putting a ring on it is what it takes, he will happily do it.
* And not only does he want husband privileges, you also make him crave husband duties. He is so in love with you that he would consider it an honor to serve, protect and take care of you.
* He knows you’re independent - that’s one of the things he loves about you - and he knows what an honor you’d do him if you consented to giving it up in order to put up with his grumpy ass.
* This man loves you so much he considers himself lucky to breathe the same air as you. So of course he’s doing everything he can to get you to say yes. He starts slow and easy at first. He makes it a priority to make your life easier, be there for you. Basically trying to tell your subconscious he is absolutely husband material.
* And when it comes to the proposal ? He is on another level. The man is capable of making quintuple entendres in his raps. So of course he’s just as meticulous when it comes to asking for your hand.
* Basically, he sees the proposal as the ultimate opportunity to prove himself to you and show you he is worthy of being your husband.
* The proposal itself is not necessarily flashy. He’s not necessarily pulling a Kanye, renting a stadium, an orchestra and doing fireworks. But it is extra thoughtful. He is involved in every little detail and includes little nods to your relationship and the aspects that make it unique.
* When you say yes he is so happy and emotional.
* The wedding is just as meticulously planned. He wants to make sure you have the day you deserve. He is very involved in the preparations but, ultimately, what you say goes.
* Basically, from the moment you agree to marrying him, he becomes a « yes, dear » husband. You mention you can’t pick between two dresses ? He hands you his credit card and tell you to buy everything you want, you can just decide what feels right at the last minute. You insist on having specific flowers, even though they’re not in season ? He will fly them in. Can’t pick a honeymoon destination ? Don’t. He’ll take you in twenty different honeymoons if you want. Honestly, if you wanted Elvis to sing as you walked down the aisle, he’d go and dig that man from his grave.
* He loves you so much he’d agree to not wearing sneakers on your big day.
* He does not cry when you walk down the aisle. He bawls. And we all know he is an ugly crier.
* As soon as he is legally allowed to call you his wife, it becomes his favorite word. Forget your first name, it’s useless now. You’re « Mrs Mathers » or « wifey ».
* He never shuts up about you either.
* The only time he declines an opportunity to talk about you is when the media is involved. You’re the most precious thing to him and he will not do anything to jeopardize that.
* He is honest about his marital status and shares that he got married. But the more he can protect your privacy, he happier he is.
* If you’re spotted in public, the most he will do is hold your hand. Other than that, no PDA.
* In private, though, he is all over you. All. The. Time.
* And don’t you dare use your wifely duties as an excuse not to cuddle with him. You need to take care of the house ? He’ll hire staff. You need to cook ? He’ll hire a chef.
* He doesn’t require you to do anything around the house. He’s grateful for anything you do but your only duty is to live in your shared home.
* You want to keep working ? He’ll support you in your professional endeavors. You want to be a stay at home wife ? You have his full support.
* He is absolutely intent in taking care of you financially. Any money you earn is yours. Do not even think about « contributing » or whatever that is. Providing is his job.
* He’d hate to be with a gold-digger but the thought of having his woman pay for anything hurts his pride. So if you’re married, he is absolutely the provider of the household.
* You can have full custody of his credit card for all he cares. As long as you spend reasonably, he doesn’t care.
* Honestly, being married to Marshall is pretty sweet. He is supportive, loving and caring.
* The only thing he asks for is your respect and support. As long as you respect his work and passions and that you’re supportive, he’s happy.
* The only arguments you have is if he feels you’re not supportive enough. Other than that, he doesn’t even dream of arguing with you. Why bother though ? You’re always right. And if you’re wrong - well he is wrong for thinking you’re not right.
* If he has hurt you or pissed you off in any way, he is quick to apologize and make it up to you.
* You always get your way. You don’t want to go out ? He will help you undress and get a snack while you pick what you want to watch on TV. You don’t like his outfit ? He’ll change. And he’ll never be upset at you.
* He can get fussy about a lot of things and be pissed off by a lot of people. But his wife ? Never.
#eminem#marshall mathers#slim shady#eminem fanfiction#eminem x reader#eminem imagine#eminem fluff#marshall mathers x reader#marshall mathers imagine
358 notes
·
View notes
Text
some family headcanons (in order: van zieks, baskerville, asogi, holmes) not everyone has names yet 🫣💦
i wrote more details under the cut ⬇️ this info can also be viewed under the "tgaa oc guide" in my carrd (linked in my profile).
Holmes
Mycroft: he’s 7 years older than his brother in the ACD canon, but I wanted him to be around the same age as Klint and Lady Baskerville. He and Sherlock are 7 and 15 respectively here. I wanted his hair to be dark and over his eyes so it’d match his cynical attitude that things are about to go bad at any time. Also, it’s a nice contrast to Sherlock’s lightly toasted color, so you could say he got “burnt”. Mycroft usually wears gloves, both because he dislikes touching things directly and because he has a tendency to be dishonest (a classic character design trope - though it’s probably less obvious in a game where almost every character of the upper social classes will wear gloves due to the setting). Mycroft predominantly wears green (next to yellow on the color wheel). Despite his avoidant and anxious behaviours, he has a sharp tongue, and rarely addresses people by their proper title. For someone who wants to avoid trouble, he doesn’t try really hard to fit in due to being a contrarian in that aspect... he’s a genius, but he’s an idiot too (lol).
Sherlock: The most important thing is that he’s recognizable without being dressed identically to his adult self, because he hasn’t come into his own yet (and it would just make no sense). He’s wearing rather nice clothes since the Holmes family belongs to the gentry class, but my friend suggested that his clothes would be dirty often since he’s crawling around trying to “solve cases” all the time, and I really love that idea. His mother is probably despairing about it. Sherlock takes himself very seriously at this age, but of course he says ridiculous things all the time.
Father (unnamed): I wanted the brothers to have a point of reference or inspiration for their creativity with inventions and general resourcefulness, so he’s a toymaker who specializes in automata. Mycroft learned from him for some time until he eventually surpassed him due to his inherent genius, but Sherlock lost interest quickly despite also showing talent. Their father is a friendly man whose work usually keeps busy, and he’s on good terms with his wife. I’m undecided on whether the toy shop should be connected to their house or not.
Mother (unnamed): I really wanted her to look like her youngest son without being an exact replica of him, with a simple and uncomplicated design. She’s a housewife with no other occupation officially, but she’s adept at sewing and often takes on requests from friends and neighbours. She also makes clothes for her husband’s creations, as well as for her children. Will dress up Mycroft and Sherlock in dresses on occasion, sometimes to get back at them for causing trouble and sometimes just to try out designs. Sherlock doesn’t mind it, and neither does Mycroft though he’s annoyed at the “punishment” since it’s usually his brother who ropes him into trouble. Their mother is constantly fatigued by their antics, so I feel a little bad for her (their father is more easygoing, so he doesn’t get as stressed out by their sons). Her relationship with her oldest son was complicated for some time due to his tendency to withdraw from the world, but her youngest helped her understand that his brother does love her in his own ways.
Van Zieks
I tried my best to incorporate angel motifs in their design to reflect Barok’s “fallen angel” motif later in life, hence why his and Klint’s father has white hair for example. The feather lace on their mother’s sleeves was a last minute addition; I think I’ll revisit their designs again soon. Klint wears his hair the same as he does as an adult to keep him recognizable, but I think it’d be funny if when he was very young it was parted on the side and he hated it or something.
Claes: Their father’s name. It’s Dutch and pronounced “Klaus”, but I keep pronouncing it wrong (a little bit on purpose because I like the sound of it spelled out). He has a constant poker face, but he’s actually the most affectionate parent in this entire lineup..! He’s meant to be smiling in the drawing, but a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell. I love characters whose personality subverts our expectations we’d usually have based on their appearance, so he looks and acts very seriously but would rather spend time at home with his family and hates going to work (lol). Also fond of cute, small, and typically “feminine” things, but he keeps that part of him a secret since it’d be frowned upon for a man in this era, especially within the upper class which is all about appearance (his wife is aware of it, though). Maybe that’s why he dotes on his kids so much? He’s very corny as well and has plenty of nicknames for his wife and children, which Klint hated at this age. I also wanted Claes to be the same height as Stronghart, with an imposing build and expression, so that the next authority figure in the brothers’ lives following his death would “fill” the gap he left. But that didn’t end so well, did it...
Evana: Their mother’s name. Similarly to Claes, her personality is meant to subvert her elegant appearance. She’s a complete airhead and once got lost in her own house. Evana is nonetheless stricter than her husband towards her children and puts a lot of emphasis on what is or isn’t proper. She’s in tune with trends and gossip as is expected of a lady in her position, and might come across as superficial to some, but she is very loving. When young Lady Baskerville would visit, she and her future mother-in-law would get along tremendously well (to Klint’s annoyance as he also wanted to spend time with his fiancee but couldn’t relate to most of their conversations). Evana had the most religious faith among the van Zieks, and would encourage virtue, integrity, and nobility of character above all else in her children.
Barok and Klint: Two well-behaved, beloved children. Barok is of course the little darling after all; I think Klint was probably the more rebellious one but became very serious after their parents’ death with all the responsibilities now on his shoulders. That was probably a very lonely period for Barok, until his brother cheered up again.
Baskerville
Primrose (Lady Baskerville): In flower language, her name means “I can’t live without you”. I didn't know this at the time I named her, but it fits the story very well, so thank you to my friend who taught me this! Primrose’s outlook is very unconventional for the era and especially at her young age, but she’s grown disillusioned with her lot in life as well as men following her mother’s death. I wanted her to be the only one in the family to be a redhead to reflect how she’s not fitting the mould with her assertive and brash personality, and how she feels "out of place". Her father dresses her in very impractical, often white dresses to assert his control over her as a form of “love”; to thwart her tendency to sneak out of the house without permission and participate in unladylike activities.
Her and Klint become codependent on each other following his own parents’ passing and promise to marry each other even though Lord Baskerville is set on finding his daughter a suitor with a more stable future.
The woman is her stepmother, and the others are her father and her half-brother. Since I’m working on a project involving all of them, I don’t want to reveal too much about them yet. All I can say is that it’s not a happy home, and no one in particularly close to each other (except the twins, maybe)...
Asogi
Genshin: I imagined he used to be short and got his growth spurt late (shown at around 12 years old here). Genshin looks a lot like Kazuma due to his eyes and nose, but thankfully he has a distinctive hairstyle already. I'd like to think he grows out his hair at around fifteen. The scarf's pattern is meant to evoke snake scales! Sorry for how lazily I drew Karuma here, haha. As for his personality, he has a poker face but I like to think he can be quite mischievous, though not towards his immediate family as the repercussions would be non-negligible. His brother in law, Hiroki, however, is the perfect person to prank since he's both kind and naive. I also imagine it's tradition for every (male) Asogi to dedicate their life to training, though he’d have a bamboo sword instead of Karuma at this age, probably... I wonder how Genshin discovered the hilt trick? If he was a kid or teenager, maybe he hid snacks inside (lol).
Miwa: Genshin’s older sister. She wears men’s clothes most of the time. Being their father’s legitimate child, she was going to inherit the clan despite being a woman until Genshin showed up. With Genshin having the “luck” to resemble his father, as well as being male, their father decided to make him the heir instead. Miwa resents Genshin for taking this chance from her, despite knowing deep down that he is not personally at fault. Still, she is outwardly bitter and dismissive of him, and spites his efforts to become closer to his sister. Miwa is both vain and arrogant while also following a rigid moral code. She distrusts men, most likely due to her father’s treatment, but she also respects her father greatly as a warrior. Miwa displays surprising gentleness towards children and women, namely Genshin’s girlfriend and later wife Yukari. Her abrasive personality mellows out when she becomes a mother herself, but she was unable to repair her relationship with her brother before his death. Since that’s very sad, in modern AUs I like to depict them on better terms.
Hiroki: Miwa’s husband through arranged marriage. Hails from a family of performers; his specialty is traditional dance but he’s skilled in rakugo as well. I wanted a character with a sensitive side, who is in touch with his emotions, to contrast the serious and tense atmosphere of the Asogi clan. Thanks to that side of him, Hiroki gets along well with Yukari who has a similar easygoing and “refreshing” personality. However, Hiroki’s sensitivity creates problems since Miwa is confused by a man exhibiting such behaviours (he’s the type to be moved by beautiful scenery and cry over small animals). Hiroki believes everyone can do good and that most people act from goodness, but for this reason he’s easily tricked- namely by Genshin. Despite amusing himself at his expense (since Genshin is quite clever), Genshin enjoys Hiroki’s company since he’s a very mellow person and doesn’t bring up dreadful topics like inheritance and power and such. Hiroki is surprisingly well-built under his clothes, and his weapon of choice is a naginata. I guess Syoma wanted his son-in-law to be strong..?
Syoma: The central figure in the Asogi household. Still alive during the events of TGAA. A very serious man who accords a lot of importance to honor and tradition to the point it’s stifling. Distant from his children, though Miwa claims Genshin is the favorite. The kind of father to make his children compete to “make them grow”, even though one of them is almost an adult and the other is barely a teenager. Although Genshin was conceived after his late wife’s passing, Syoma sees Genshin as a reminder of his dishonourable actions (mainly due to Genshin’s mother being a prostitute), and thus avoids him despite placing the onus of inheritance upon him. All of that results in a house Genshin doesn’t want to stay in- and contributes to his reasons to go study abroad. In his own twisted way, Syoma loves his children, but he was never meant to be a father, or at least does not know how to parent without a wife’s help (tradition and patriarchy is very much a theme for the whole clan lol). I honestly struggle to write him because the things he says can be very hurtful, especially towards his daughter-in-law. His character is a lot more comedic/nicer in modern AU (think pseudo yakuza with mother hen personality), but so is everyone’s. (it’s very sitcom-like, haha)
Thanks for reading if you made it this far!! This post could be even longer but I decided to spare everyone💗 have a bonus papazieks and children doodle for your time👼💗
#the great ace attorney#ace attorney#tgaa oc#dgs oc#tgaac spoilers#tgaa spoilers#dgs spoilers#barok van zieks#klint van zieks#klimt van zieks#genshin asogi#genshin asougi#lady baskerville#mycroft holmes#mycroft sholmes#?? lol#oc: mycroft#oc: claes#oc: evana#oc: primrose#oc: hiroki#oc: miwa#oc: syoma#oc: unnamed#so many..#my art
163 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can I request more 2012? I really like your table tease story with Donnie BTW! My request is what do you think would be good turn ons and turn offs for the 2012 turtles.
Turn Ons and Turn Offs (18+)
2012!Turtles x reader
A/N: Of course you can!💚 And I’m happy that you liked it😘💜 These focuses mainly on the spicy stuff, but there’s also some general relationship aspects in there. As you know, not all turn ons has to be strictly sexual💙❤️ 💜🧡 (Btw, thought you all should know I wrote this while listening to Shady Lady by Ani Lorak).
All characters are aged up.
Warning: Talk about sex, and possible break ups. And spelling. My head did a upsi every once in a while.
Leonardo:
Turn Ons:
Your admiration for his leadership skills is evident, and Leonardo is drawn to your determination to better yourself, just like he always tries to better himself. He finds your disciplined nature and eagerness appealing, often finding himself lost in admiration as you dive into whatever you’re passionate about.
Your respect for tradition and loyalty to your friends resonates with his own values. Your ideas of a relationship matches up with his, and both of you found that you had the same goals for your love lives.
When you let him geek out and take an interest in his sci fi series, board games and martial art rants. It made him weak in the knees to have you sit next to him, listening intently to all his words.
Leo likes to view himself as an independent leader with a mind of steel, making the decisions and leading the flock. But, he did like it ALOT when you took control in the bedroom. It gave him a change to relax, and, well, you looked hot as fuck on top of him.
But as much as Leo LOVED it when you took control during intimate times, it made him feel like a true man and a real leader, whenever you looked to him for protection or help. It made you look so small and cute, and he could just eat you on the spot.
Training you. More than once a small training session between you and Leo had turned into a heated makeout.
Calling him Sensei. Leo will lose his shit and become dominant very quickly.
Your eyes. Leo loves to watch your eyes during sex. Both of you made a big deal out of looking into each other’s eyes during your climax.
Teasing. Him or you? It didn't matter. Leo just had a thing for teasing and foreplay, finding it amazing the longer it lasts.
Turn Offs:
If you did not understand his role as a leader and what it meant to him, Leonardo was OFF. Leo is committed to his given role, and he can become frustrated if he senses any disrespect towards their mission or disregard for his orders. That same goes for his partner, if they decided not to see how important it is for Leo.
He values structure and organization, so if you're too spontaneous or disregard the importance of training and preparation, it might put a strain on your relationship. It’s not that Leo doesn’t like a few spontaneous things, but he has a daily routine that he needs to follow.
Leo doesn’t like it when it gets too messy in the bedroom. Sure, he can get into the kinky stuff, and bodily fluids tend to get involved, but it has to be easy to clean. So it’s a big no when it comes to bringing food into the bedroom. Maybe something to drink so you can keep going, but other than a few snacks for movies, no food.
Degradation. Leo likes it when you call each other things; good boy, good girl, Sensei, slut has even been used, but he will never talk down to you. He’s not against talking about how much one of you was loving it, but peeling each other apart with words. Never ask or expect him to call you dumb, stupid or something worse, because he won’t do it.
If you bleed, either from a bite or Leo being a little too rough with you, he shuts the whole thing down. You can say you liked it, but Leo wasn’t having it. Blood meant pain, typically a pain that was way stronger than any pleasure. Leo did not like it, fearing that he was hurting you too much.
Raphael:
Turn Ons:
Your fiery spirit and unwavering determination catch Raphael's attention from the start. He's drawn to your confidence and independence, finding your willingness to stand up for what you believe in incredibly attractive.
Raphael appreciates your straightforwardness and isn't afraid to engage in some friendly banter and teasing with you, loving the challenge you present. Nothing could get Rapg in the mood, like when you returned his comment with an even fiery one, continuing back and forth until one was the ultimate winner. That winner tended to be the dominant one that night (even though Raph tended to take that role from you very quickly), or some very hot brat taming.
Just like playful banter, playful fighting could rail Raph up so easily, trying his best to keep you pinned to the ground. He found it adorable to watch you struggle against him, and at times he would let you think you had the upper hand, before he pushed you to the ground, smiling mischievously at you, your flustered expression keeping him going every time.
Rough sex is his favorite kind. Though he would never try to intentionally hurt you, he did have a thing for hearing you whimper and plead for him, often turning into a whole game of dirty talk.
Begging has Raph spinning. He could lose his mind, just to the sound of your begging. However, if you really want him to enjoy it, don’t beg straight away. Make him fight for it. That’s the most fun part.
This man LOVES spanking. It is the sound, and the way your flesh jiggles afterwards, and the reddening of your skin, almost matching the color of his bandana. Raph loves watching your ass turn red during doggy style, calling it proof that he has been the one doing this to you.
Sex outside the bedroom? This man will do it anywhere with you. All you have to do is ask, and he will do it.
Turn Offs:
While Raphael admires your independence, he can become frustrated if he feels like you're shutting him out or keeping secrets. He values honesty and loyalty above all else, so if he senses any deceit or manipulation, it could lead to some serious clashes between you two. He can easily become insecure, overthinking very quickly, and make up ideas in his head, based on things you once said. Just talk to him, it makes everything easier.
Raph’s not a fan of overly clingy behavior and needs his space to process his emotions. That does not mean that he doesn’t want you around, but sometimes, when he’s mad at his brothers, he just needs to punch a punching bag first, before he tells you what's going on.
Raph loves to choke you doing sex, but if you choke him, he will pull away. Make sure he’s okay with it before you do it, otherwise he will start gaining some real trust issues when it comes to your intimate activities. He may be open for it one day, but he NEEDS to know it before you get down and dirty.
Stay. AWAY. From. His. ASS. No finger, no nothing. He ain’t doing it. Nope. Nuh-uh. Your butt, hell yeah! But his butt? FORGET IT.
His tail too! Ask first, otherwise, he will get aggressive or just walk away.
If you as much as joke about getting down with one of his brothers, his done. Leave. Raph is a pretty insecure guy, so a small joke can easily break him. Don’t do that to the poor guy. He’s trying his best.
You can get your ass spanked and your throat used and choked, but he will never make you bleed. He wants you to enjoy it just as much as him, so as soon as you tell him you don’t like it, he will stop. He will shut the whole thing down, even if you protest, deciding to spend the time cuddling instead.
As much as Raph loves to do nasty things with you, don’t you dare tell anybody. It’s not because he doesn’t want people to know that you two are intimate, but he just doesn't want people all up in his and your very personal business.
Donatello:
Turn Ons:
Donatello is captivated by your intellect and curiosity, often finding himself engrossed in deep conversations with you about science, technology, and the mysteries of the universe.
He's drawn to your creativity and innovative thinking, appreciating your unique perspective on the world. Your passion for learning and exploring new ideas resonates with his own interests, creating a strong intellectual connection between you two.
Donnie is a BIG fan of phone sex. Masturbation together over the phone or sexting when you couldn’t be together. He loved it all. If you’re in the mood, just send him a pic and he is ready. He can fix whatever he was working on another time.
He has a thing for seeing you in his color. A purple shirt, or maybe even surprise him with purple underwear, and he will be ON. Sometimes he will even let you wear his bandana, maybe even wrapping it around you during sex. He just loved the sight.
Donnie LOVES dirty talk. All of it. He can be so sweet and caring on any other occasion, but during sex, he can talk so nasty to you, making you wonder where all that came from. But in truth, he had always been like that. It just took a person he trusted to bring it out of him.
Neither you or Donnie have a set role when it comes to sex. You feel like being submissive? Sure, then he’ll dominate you until your world starts shaking. Or let’s say that you feel like dominating, Donnie will happily be submissive, begging and pleading for you.
Let him watch you. Please! He finds it so hot!
Your purple genius turtle likes to try out news in the bedroom. He has a very open mind when it comes to your sex life, and will pretty much try anything you bring up, and things that has been thinking about for some time.
Turn Offs:
Donnie doesn’t have a lot of sexual turn offs, most of them having something to do with the maintenance of a relationship. But he will NEVER do anything you don’t want him to! Never ever! If you don’t want to, he will throw the idea away, prioritizing your comfort way more.
Donnie values honesty and transparency in a relationship, so if he feels like you're hiding something or being evasive, it can cause some tension between you two.
When it comes to relationships, he's also not a fan of recklessness or impulsiveness, preferring to carefully analyze situations before taking action. He wants to talk to you first, going through all the pros and cons, making sure that both of you are on the same page, and that nothing is left in the unknown. If you disregard safety protocols or act without thinking things through, it could lead to some disagreements.
Donnie is not always available, even though he really wants to be. Since he’s the only one that knows how to fix a toaster, his help is often needed in the lair. Therefore it would really discourage him in the long run, if you didn’t come down to visit him.
Cut him off during his long rambles about the newest thing he was working on, or show a general lack of interest in his work, and Donnie will quickly find himself rethinking the entire relationship. It’s not a lot he’s asking for, and his trying his best to make space for you in his life, so if you can’t give him that, is it even worth it?
Break some of his work on purpose, and he will feel like you have betrayed him.
Michelangelo:
Turn Ons:
Your fun-loving nature and sense of humor immediately click with Mikey's laid-back personality. He's drawn to your adventurous spirit and willingness to join him on spontaneous escapades around the city. Mikey loves your positive attitude and ability to find joy in the simplest of things, often finding himself laughing and smiling more when you're around.
There’s many ways to get Mikey in the mood, one of the easiest ones being just telling him. Whisper in his ear and tell him you’re in the mood, and you’ll find that he too will be in the mood. It doesn’t take much more than that.
Something as simple as cuddling could get him going. Hug him in a certain way that reminded him of how you would press yourself against him, and his mind would go wandering until he couldn’t contain his excitement anymore.
Dress up in something revealing, and Mikey will not be able to keep his hands from himself. Especially something that puts focus on your chest. It will definitely help with this boob man.
There’s no way around it, but Mikey will bring food into the bedroom, and he will find a way to involve it in your acts. Licking syrup off of each other, or maybe eating ice cream from your chest. If Mikey can think of it, he will do it.
Mikey genuinely wants sex to be fun and enjoyable for both of you. It is a light hearted and pleasurable affair, and he will not see any reason to stop before you and him are satisfied… for the time being.
Sneaking around in the lair and in the city above can also really get him going. Mikey can’t help it. The thought of getting caught did some very interesting things to him.
Does Mikey like to be a little submissive sometimes? Yes, yes he does.
Roleplay? YES! This man LOVES it! Anything creative in the bedroom and he is hooked!
Turn Offs:
Mikey is not a fan of negativity or pessimism, preferring to surround himself with positivity and optimism. He understands that not everything is a dance on roses, but if you continuously point out the negative, he can find himself growing quite bored or maybe even tired of the relationship.
If there is one thing Mikey can’t stand, it is when he is forced to put a damper on his imagination and creativity. Tell him no to a good roleplay one too many times, and he will become quite agitated.
Mikey understands that sometimes life gets serious, he does not like it when his sex life has to be serious too. Mikey is not against intense intimacy with eye contact and all that, but let him have fun dammit! Can’t he have fun, then what is the purpose?!
Stick to one position for too long, and Mikey will get bored. And once Mikey is bored, the mood is gone. Keep it interesting, listen to his suggestions and have fun.
Keep Mikey stuck in the bedroom for too long, and he will - you guessed it - get bored. If you won’t sneak around with him, he will feel utterly lost in boredom. It takes a lot to make Mikey rethink a whole relationship, but with everything combined, he may be getting close to that point.
And the worst of them all. Probably the one he would put as the base for a break up; make him feel or call him childish. Now, Mikey wouldn’t care if his brothers called you and Mikey immature and childish, but if you called him that, along with sucking all the fun out of his life, Mikey would call it quits. He wants to have fun with his partner, and if his partner refused to do that, he wouldn’t want to be with them.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt donatello#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt mikey#tmnt leo#tmnt x reader smut#tmnt x reader#tmnt 2012 x reader smut#tmnt 2012 x reader#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt leo x reader smut#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader smut#tmnt 2012 leo#tmnt 2012 leonardo#tmnt 2012 leo x reader#tmnt 2012 leo x reder smut#tmnt 2012 leonardo x reader#tmnt 2012 leonardo x reader smut#tmnt raph x reader#tmnt raph x reader smut#tmnt raphael x reader#tmnt raphael x reader smut#tmnt 2012 raphael#tmnt 2012 raph
625 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wtf so I now can post long fics? Well, thanks Tumblr I guess the beef between us didn't last long. Here's the sad Arthur fic I wrote, hope you like it guys<3
arthur morgan x dutch's daughter!reader 3,9k words chapter 6 spoilers, death, violence
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Until the last breath
Never in a thousand years would have Dutch van der Linde thought his own daughter would betray him. He would suspect anyone - recently even John or Arthur. But not [Y/n]. She was his daughter, his only child, the only thing he had left of Annabelle.
And yet there she stood - a gun in hand, pointed at her father, who had his own guns pointed at Arthur and John.
"You're on these two rats' side? That's what I get for raising you?" Dutch asked, his angry gaze fixated on his daughter. "You ungrateful brat."
"You didn't raise me!" [Y/n] countered. "Hosea was more of a father than you. To you, money has always been more important. You always had a plan to get more, and more, and more. I'd be in Tahiti if I had a dollar for every plan of yours that didn't work out."
"I gave you everything I could!"
"You gave me everything?" She had to stop herself from scoffing. "I spent my whole life trying to make you happy for once. Trying to make you proud of me. I gave my heart and my soul for this gang, and you ruined it all when you took in this rat!" Her voice started to crack, but she forced tears away. She reached for her other gun and pointed it at Micah.
Dutch asked, "You really think Micah is the reason you're turning on me?" His tone was strangely calm, too calm. "You think I never noticed the way you and Arthur were plotting something behind my back? But, of course, he didn't sneak into your tent at night just to plot. You disgust me, [Y/n]."
[Y/n]'s mouth fell slightly open as she attempted to form a sentence, and yet she wasn't able to. How did he find out? She thought her and Arthur had been sneaky enough.
"You lost your mind, Dutch," Arthur spoke up, "we were worried about you."
Dutch turned his eyes to Arthur, his anger growing at the man's comment. "I'm the one who gave all of you a home! A purpose! A damn family! And you had the nerve to get with my daughter behind my back, and turn her against me."
"All these years, Dutch..." Arthur shook his head. "Just to waste it for this snake?"
"Be quiet, Black Lung." Micah said, his gun pointed at Arthur.
"No," miss Grimshaw appeared with her rifle pointed at Micah, "you be quiet, mister Bell. And put that gun down."
It escalated in a moment. Micah pulled the trigger, sending a bullet towards miss Grimshaw. He took the last remaining mother figure [Y/n] had. Miss Grimshaw was a cold woman, but she cared for her, she cared for all the girls. And now she was dead.
But there was no time to dwell on that.
"Pinkertons are coming!" Javier ran up to the group, warning them.
"Now," Dutch spoke way too calmly for [Y/n]'s liking, "who amongst you is with me, and who is betraying me?"
"Bill, Javier, think for yourselves." Arthur spoke, but they didn't listen.
The both of them were too blinded by the doomed loyalty to Dutch. They sided with him, while Arthur was left with just [Y/n] and John. Besides them, there was also Micah and his own friends he had brought to the gang recently. They were outnumbered.
"My own flesh and blood has turned against me." Dutch concluded in a cold voice [Y/n] hadn't heard before. He had never been a good father, but now... his transformation was complete. The man who had once been a leader, had been replaced by a ghost of himself, driven by greed and paranoia
"You brought it upon yourself." [Y/n] spat.
Micah sneered, "And here I was thinking blood runs thicker than water. Seems a good fuck can change a lady's mind so easily. Wouldn't suspect that of cowpoke, but seems this day is full of surprises."
[Y/n] winced at Micah's remark. She wanted nothing more than to shoot him then and there.
And she tried to. But her hands were trembling with anger, and she missed.
"Put your guns down!" An unknown voice yelled out.
The pinkertons. They ran into the camp, or whatever was left of it, and started shooting. The Pinkertons had arrived, their shouts and gunfire piercing through the madness. The world started to crash down. [Y/n], Arthur, and John found places to use as a cover. The girl didn't even care what would happen with her father now. She had to focus on the pinkertons.
After a few minutes, when the trio knew they won't get out of it this way, John called out, "[Y/n], Arthur, into the caves!"
They didn't think twice before running inside the cave, following the gloomy and scary passages. The pinkertons ran after them and [Y/n] hoped John was leading them to some second entrance. They couldn't afford hitting a dead end.
"Micah was a rat, Milton told me." Arthur confessed as they kept running.
"We should've let him rot in that jail in Strawberry." [Y/n] thought out loud.
There was a ladder, leading them upwards. And another one, and a third one. As the surroundings started to become lighter with the outside's air, [Y/n] thought they might be getting out of that cave before the pinkertons get them.
"John," Arthur turned to his friend when the trio reached fresh air finally, "Abigail is safe, Jack too. They're with Sadie." Then he turned to [Y/n], and tried to stop a cough before speaking to her, "You, [Y/n], I want you to go and–"
"Go where?" The girl interrupted him. "Go and do what?"
"We have to separate here. John and I will go this way, you'll go join Sadie."
In the meantime, John called for their horses. Except that [Y/n]'s didn't come, which could only mean one thing.
"They killed her..." [Y/n] mused, and for a moment she couldn't fight the urge to cry. A few tears had escaped. "Now I have to go with you."
But, again, there was no more time to think. They mounted their horses, Arthur insisting [Y/n] rides with John in case they had to go separate ways. She didn't mount John's horse, she sat on the back of Arthur's. She knew that he knew there was no time to argue.
And they ran again. Ran, followed by the bullets shot by Dutch, Micah, Bill, Javier, and those men Micah brought to the gang. Dutch van der Linde was many things, and he never played the role of the father well, but even now [Y/n] was shocked to see him chasing after them, not afraid of the risk to shoot his own daughter.
When they escaped them, they kept running into the pinkertons. They seemed to be everywhere, as if they knew their next moves.
The trio tried to escape running up a mountain, but they were stopped. [Y/n] saw John falling off his horse, and no sooner the same happened to herself and Arthur.
"Buell!" The girl called out, seeing the animal lying on the ground with a bullet wound. "These motherf–"
They had to shoot now. There was no way out if they didn't kill all those pinkertons. And, fueled by the rage, [Y/n] felt as if she could shoot them all by herself. Hell, she would gladly choke all of them with her bare hands if she got the chance.
"Come on!" John called out after they have dealt with pinkertons. He knew this wouldn't last long.
[Y/n] ran up to Arthur, who was kneeling next to Buell, gently petting the horse's mane. The girl didn't even get to be with her mare when she got killed, so she had to be at least with Buell.
"Let's go!" John repeated.
"Give us a moment!" Arthur shouted back.
[Y/n] touched the horse gently and Arthur leaned over his head. This was such a heartbreaking thing to witness. Arthur received this horse from a man who had lost his leg in the war. Found him randomly in the woods, when the horse bucked him off and his leg got stuck in a stirrup. Arthur helped him and became friends, visiting from time to time. They went hunting once, and the veteran got attacked by a giant boar. With his last breath, he asked Arthur to take care of Buell. And Arthur did, until the horse's last breath, too.
With one last final, "Thank you," that Arthur whispered to Buell, they were ready to run further.
"Let's go." John said for the third time.
Arthur asked, "What about the money?"
"Money?" [Y/n] sobbed, wiping away a few last tears. "What about Micah? We have to get rid of him."
"I go down there, I'm dead in five minutes," John stated, "I have a family, that's more important."
"You're right," Arthur admitted, thinking John must be making sense for the first time in his life, "[Y/n], you go with John. I'm going back for the money."
"No, you're not." The girl protested firmly. She wasn't losing Arthur, not like that. "We go together or we don't go at all."
Arthur knew it was pointless to argue with [Y/n]. If she inherited anything from Dutch, it was the subborness.
Arthur also knew that he didn't have much longer left. He was actively dying from tuberculosis that he hasn't even told [Y/n] about yet. If soon he was going to take his last breath, he wanted [Y/n] to go, not see him like this. He had always been a tough man, he couldn't let the girl he loved more than anything in the world see him die beaten by a stupid illness. "Fine, let's go." He muttered and the trio started once again running. He had no idea how to get out of this. There was no way out for him, but he still could help [Y/n] and John.
They needed to find a higher ground, running up a mointain. It was very steep, they had to be careful. At least they knew they were safe from the bullets, for now. The pinkertons would come back to the cave, as Micah most likely told them about the money hidden inside.
"Keep, pushing, Arthur!" John said.
Arthur stopped running. He stood bent slightly, propping his arms on his knees. It seemed to [Y/n] like he has difficulty to take a breath. An expression of worry grew on her face. She knew he had some kind of sickness, but she didn't realize how serious it was until this moment.
"Arthur, let's go, we've made it so far." She said, the tears threatening to appear in her eyes once again.
"I think I've pushed all I can." Arthur admitted, coughing out some blood. He straightened his posture, being able to breathe a bit better momentarily.
John walked up to him, "We ain't got time for this."
"We ain't all gonna make it."
His words hit [Y/n] worse than any bullets. She ran up to Arthur, grabbing his arm, trying to make him step forward.
"Don't talk nonsense," she tried to pull him, but even in this state he was still stronger than her, "Arthur, I'm not going anywhere without you."
"You both go." Arthur insisted. "I'll hold them off. There ain't no more time to talk." With these words, he reached for his sachel and handed it over to John. Then, he took his hat off and placed it on [Y/n]'s head.
She knew what that mean. She knew Arthur was prepared to die. But she couldn't let him. She couldn't imagine a life without him. He truly was the love of her life, how was she supposed to keep going if he died on that mountain?
Arthur turned to [Y/n], his eyes softening as he took her face in his hands. "You need to keep going, no matter what happens. You understand?"
[Y/n] shook her head, tears welling up again. "Don't talk like that, Arthur. We're getting out of this. All three of us."
But Arthur knew better. He could feel the life slipping away from him with every breath, every step. "I need you to promise me something, [Y/n]."
"No, Arthur, no." She closed her eyes, hoping this would at least stop the tears.
"Look at me," Arthur said, gently placing his thumb on her chin and tilting her head up, "look at me, doll."
She slowly did as she was told, opening her eyes to meet his. Her heart was racing, knowing that these might be the last moments they have together. His gaze was full of love, as if in these seconds he wanted to love her for all the time he won't be able to in the future.
"You've been the light in my life, the good in me." Arthur told her.
"You've been my everything." She whispered, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak.
"You get out of here with John. When I'm gone, you'll find a good man, one that'll give you the life you deserve. You're young, you can start a family, forget about me. I don't know what I did to deserve your love, but it's the time you bless someone worthy with it."
[Y/n] shook her head, her hands gripping Arthur's coat as if she could somehow anchor him to this world, keep him from fading away. "I'll never forget you. You're the love of my life."
"You deserve so much more than this life, [Y/n]. More than what I could ever give you. But you can still have it. You can still have everything you want, a future, a family, happiness."
But [Y/n] was stubborn, as always. "There's no future if you're not in it."
For a moment, Arthur looked as though he might break, as though he might give in to the desire to stay with her, to fight for a few more moments together. She tried to kiss him, and it took all the strenght his ill body had to stop her.
"I love you, [Y/n]," sounded his final words, "I love you more than anything in this world. But you have to go. For me. I'll love you till my last breath."
"And I'll love you until mine," that was the only thing she could promise him, "I'll never forget you."
The sound of gunshots echoed nearby, and the trio knew there was no more time. [Y/n] would trade anything to have a few more minutes with Arthur. She would walk down to Hell to speak to the Devil himself if he could grant her a bit more time.
John grabbed [Y/n], as much as it pained him, he had to drag her away. They had to run. That's what Arthur wanted.
As she was being dragged away, [Y/n] watched Arthur climb, trying to reach an even higher spot of the mountain.
"Arthur is doing this so you can live. Don't let it be for nothing." John said.
[Y/n] didn't reply. They had to make an escape, and they did so in silence, but the girl didn't even feel her own legs, she just trusted they were there. There was no life for her if Arthur died. This life had been all she knew. How she was supposed to live without the gang, and without him?
"John." She said firmly, somehow finding the strenght in herself to not cry anymore. "I'm going back there."
[Y/n] had been hit by the realization that she doesn't have anything to lose. Everything she had, she already either sacrificed or lost. Her mother, the gang, her father, her horse, and now Arthur, her Arthur.
John stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face [Y/n]. "No, you ain't."
"I ain't got nothing to lose. Either I'll be dragging his dead body to the pearly gates and bribing the God to revive him, or I'll die there with him."
John looked into her eyes just to see fire in them. He understood her love for Arthur and her desperation to save him, and maybe he would have even done the same for Abigail. Except it was plain stupid to do such thing for a man, who was already dying.
"Damn it," John muttered, knowing he can't stop her, "you're as brave as you're stupid. The both of you."
[Y/n] took off Arthur's hat that he had given her, and passed it to John. "You're the best brother I could've had. When I die, I'll look up at you and expect to see you treating Jack and Abigail well. No more running away."
"You mean look down." He corrected her.
"Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell. And I'll be waiting for you, just wait at least fifty years." She chuckled and pulled John in for a quick hug. When they pulled away, she could see tears in his eyes. But [Y/n] wasn't going to cry, not anymore.
She had no reason to cry now. Her time was over. If Arthur was going to die, she was dying there with him, and she was ready for this. More ready than for a future without him.
"Take care of your family," [Y/n]'s last words for John sounded, "make sure they get the life they deserve. Make sure you get that life, too." And with that, she turned away and walked back to where Arthur was supposed to be.
John nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He knew he would carry this moment with him for the rest of his life. The night he had lost the two people who were like siblings to him. He had lost much more, but it didn't matter.
[Y/n] had nothing left to lose, nothing left to live for but this one last act of love. If she could save Arthur, it would be worth it. And if she couldn't... then at least they would die together, side by side, as they should have lived.
There were no more gunshots to follow, not a sound of any fight. [Y/n] climed up the rocks, finding the path where she had last seen Arthur. She saw someone walking her way, not someone who she yearned to see.
"You goddamn rat!" [Y/n] yelled as she grabbed Micah by his coat. She didn't know where she found this strenght in her body, but she managed to throw him such a powerful punch in the face that he had to take a few steps back, almost falling off a cliff.
"You just won't give up, will you?" He said, his usual malice still audible in his voice.
"Did you kill him?" She asked, pointing her gun at him.
"He's alive. Not for much longer though."
[Y/n] clenched her jaw, her grip on the gun tightening so hard her knuckles went white. She felt her anger building up inside her, threatening to explode at any moment. "I should've put a bullet in your head a long time ago."
"Come on, do it now then," he laughed, the sound getting into [Y/n]'s head as she contemplated the decision, "we both know you're too soft to do it. How can such a failure be Dutch's daughter? I bet your mama wasn't the most loyal to your daddy."
That was it, her breaking point. [Y/n] knew putting a bullet in Micah wouldn't fix what was already broken, but at least she could stop any further damage he would cause if he stayed alive.
[Y/n] pulled the trigger, aiming for Micah's head, right between his eyes. His body fell down the cliff, and [Y/n] watched that happen. She felt absolutely nothing. No remose. But also no ease. Not until she could see Arthur.
She ran towards where Micah came from. She found Arthur lying down, his upper body propped on a rock. His face was turned towards the east, looking at the sunrise, even though he had always loved the sunset.
"Arthur..." She said.
His eyes searched for the source of the sound, Arthur thought he was having hallucinations. He forced a smile on his beaten face when he saw her.
"You damn fool, [Y/n]." He said in a weak, raspy voice. Not the kind of rasp [Y/n] loved to hear in the mornings, but the one that emphasized Arthur's condition. "I told you to go with John."
"I couldn't leave you, Arthur." She said, losing all her power to not cry. She knelt down beside him, looking at his injuries. His face was full of little cuts and bruises, some blood. But he didn't seem to have gotten shot.
Tears shone in her eyes. And she must have been the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever laid his eyes on. The way the orange morning sunrays touched her face made Arthur feel butterflies in his stomach. It was way nicer to die when he had this sight in front of him. But it wasn't fair to her.
"Doll," he breathed out, "I'm dying."
"No, you're going to be fine." She stuttered, the pain in her voice betraying how delusional she was being. She couldn't accept the reality of the situation. She refused to believe that the man she loved more than anything was slipping away from her.
She took his hands in hers. His touch used to be so hot it could put the Devil to shame. But now his hands were colder than the coldest night in Colter.
"I've got tuberculosis." Arthur confessed to her finally.
"What?" A puzzled expression appeared on her face. "Since when?"
"Since I killed Thomas Downes."
[Y/n]'s heart dropped. She had heard rumors about the sickness, the way it slowly drained the life out of a person, but she never imagined that Arthur, her Arthur, had been battling it all this time. It explained so much, the coughing fits, the way he had grown weaker, more distant. And yet, he had never told her, never let on just how bad it was.
"I deserved to know." She replied, her voice cracking. "I could've helped you."
"I didn't want to worry you, doll. Didn't want you to see me like this. You deserved better than that."
"I loved you, I still do, and I would've stayed by your side no matter what. You should've told me. We could–" She choked on her words, realizing there was nothing they could've done to stop it.
A small, sad smile tugged at the corner of Arthur's lips. "You've always been too good for me, [Y/n]. I ain't ever deserved you, not really."
"Don't say that, Arthur. You deserve everything. And now you're dying here. Alone."
"I ain't alone." Arthur murmured, his voice growing weaker with every word. "You're here, right? That's all I ever needed."
She nodded, her heart breaking as she watched him struggle to keep his eyes open. The sunrise was casting a warm glow over his face, and for a moment, [Y/n] could almost pretend that they were somewhere else, somewhere safe, where they could live the life however they wanted to. Away from all the bullshit they had to go through.
But reality was cold and its walls were closing in on them. She could feel Arthur slipping away, his fingers holding onto hers weaker with each passing moment. She wanted to scream, to beg for more time, but it would be in vain.
Arthur stopped fighting the urge to close his eyes. "Promise me, doll... you'll find a way to live... without me." He could barely speak anymore, yet he managed to utter these words.
"I love you, Arthur." [Y/n] said instead, because she didn't want to make a promise she couldn't keep.
His grip on her hands loosened, and his chest rose and fell one last time. [Y/n] leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She held him close, cradling his head in her arms as they were bathed in the warmth of the sunrise. She stayed like that, long after he was gone, her tears mixing with the blood and dirt on his skin. Arthur was gone, and with him, a part of her died too. She had nothing left to lose, nothing left to fight for, except the memory of the man she loved.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#dutch van der linde#john marston#rdr2#rdr2 x reader#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption 2 fanfic#red dead redemption x reader#arthur morgan fanfic#arthur morgan one shot#arthur morgan imagines
166 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stacy's Tipsy Musing's - Colin Bridgerton Hot Takes - Part 1
Ok boys and girls, we need to have a little chat about Colin Bridgerton.
Part 2 has been out now for a couple of days and there have been a lot of hot takes to come out of the season. A LOT of hot takes. I’m going to break this down into 4 parts. 4 questions that I'm seeing really bad hot takes about Colin.
Now none of this is new, I gotta say before Season 3 aired Colin was a hot button topic anyway. He seemed to be the Bridgerton brother that lots of people love to spew hate takes on anyway. But damn I gotta say its painful seeing the Polin fandom have so many bad takes falling from their lips.
So, I figured...having a little drink tonight, sitting down for Father’s Day (Happy Father’s Day, Colin) I’d give you the opinion on some of these takes that you didn’t ask for...Mine!
Ok let’s start with the hottest take. Question 1:
Does Colin really believe that Pen entrapped him in marriage?
“Perhaps that was another part of your planned entrapment”
Ok I have to say, I have never seen one line inspire SO MANY BAD TAKE FANFICS IN ALL MY LIFE! Let’s start at the beginning...he found out about Lady Whistledown by following Pen because he noticed she and his sister run off together and disappeared. His sister who was not speaking to Pen previously from his knowledge. So not only is he suddenly feeling betrayed by his future wife, but also his sister.
Now add to this, his trying to reconcile this lie in the middle of planning a wedding to the woman he thought he knew most of his life as quiet little Pen, who just weeks earlier he was trying to teach how to flirt and land a man. He is confused and angry.
But that’s only 2 layers of hurt. Let’s keep adding to that. Layer one, we have the lie. Layer two, we have a woman he thought he knew. Add in Layer three, the Marina situation.
The original LW lie for him was about Marina’s lie. The original entrapment. An entrapment that Colin was willing to look past. He was still willing to marry Marina despite her deception. He still checked in on her post marriage to Phillip to ensure she was happy, to see if she regretted NOT marrying him. Colin always regretted his behavior to Marina’s entrapment. An entrapment that LW pushed into the light and forced a different decision for him. I don’t think he cares about Marina now, he never once accused her of taking Marina from him, he never loved Marina, but she took his agency, his decision.
Now for the fun of it, let’s add layer four. Portia’s already accused Pen of entrapping Colin during his confrontation with her. An accusation he strongly defended her against. An accusation which led to him telling her he loved her for the first time and them sharing their first time together. Which he is now reminding her of. “I’m a man of honor. And we were intimate.” Colin knows how to hurt Pen. We always know how to hurt those we have known for a long time, and they are of course the oldest of friends. He is striking her where he knows it will hurt her the most. Because he is hurting, and she caused the blow.
So let’s talk about the biggest blow of them all. “Perhaps that was another part of your planned entrapment” He doesn’t look her in the eye when he says any of this. He can’t, because he KNOWS he’s being an asshole. He knows its below the belt. But she hurt him. He’s angry, hurt, lashing out.
Because of Layer five...Hot anger at what she wrote about him at the beginning of the season. This person who knows him better than anyone else, wrote truth to page. No one knows the real Colin the way Pen does. His brothers toasted him when he returned home because of his new female attention, his friends said he was more fun this season. But Pen called his new persona a ploy for attention. She saw him for what he was. A fraud. If he is to forgive Pen, he is to also start to acknowledge that there is truth in things she says that perhaps Lady Whistledown does not tell lies.
But then there is layer six. Jealousy and shame. Colin has sat in all of his emotions, yes he’s angry about what she has written,but we get to the heart of it, he’s jealous of her and that makes him ashamed of himself. That’s very Book!Colin coded who was very ashamed of his jealousy, so much so that Pen mistook his silence and brooding as shame of her. But this Colin is brooding in his own shame and jealousy and lashing out at her.
And then we get to layer seven. Colin loves Penelope above all else. And with this love and hurt and shame and jealousy, there is nothing that will stop him from marrying her. And in part, that is where his ire in this pointed cut comes from. He’s reminding her that they will marry. This will happen. This woman who is a successful writer, something he thinks he will never be, will marry him. Because he has laid claim to her. He has bedded her. They were intimate, she was compromised, and they have entrapped each other. But above all, he loves her, and Lady Whistledown will not change that decision for him this time. This time, he will marry.
Seven layers of lies, deception, past hurts, parental pressures, anger, jealousy and shame, and above all love sat on his tongue and wormed through his thoughts for days until they cut out at the small woman beside him that he needed to hurt in that moment. The woman he had been avoiding for that very reason.
Colin is not a hateful man. He was a kind man. He was rarely angry. But when he was finally put in a place where anger was his only emotion, he avoided Penelope, so that he didn’t hurt her, so he would not say things that were unkind and would hurt her. But when put into the place that he could not avoid her, he lashed out. He made it very clear how things were going to go and he pouted, and he brooded and he said unkind words.
And he was ashamed. And after that he did his best to avoid her, (by being out drinking, sleeping on the couch, avoiding intimacy) so he would not lash out at her again. Because he was ashamed.
Stick around for Part 2.... Why would Colin send Pen home alone after finding her on the street at night?
#colin bridgerton#polin#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton s3#bridgerton#stacy's tipsy musings#hot takes#you cant make me hate him
195 notes
·
View notes
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile XXII
<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Well, folks. It took us 22 chapters, but here it is. I was strangely emotional during this chapter, would you feel the same? I wonder... Please, tell me your thoughts!
You looked around you, curiously. You were in Alastor’s basement, sitting on a chair as he was preparing to invoke the last spirit he needed to bound your soul together. From what he told you, he just needed to talk with the spirit to finally know what was needed.
This week has been hectic so far. you had to prepare the wedding, writing the invitations once you had found the place where it would happen. You were looking for a cake, Alastor would like, and also other sweets for the guests. Alastor also had his own schedules, he was busy with work and the organization of your wedding with the mayor. You didn’t even manage to see each other that much, but Alastor would always try to come at night, even if you were asleep, so he could rest with you, two or three hours before leaving.
Which brings you to where you were right now. Alastor placed a cup of black coffee on a table with a cigar and wrote symbols with chalk on the walls. You bit your lips, you never saw another spirit than Papa Legba, would you be able to see this one?
“ Are you nervous?” Alastor asked, walking toward you. You tilted your head backward so he could kiss your lips multiple times. You hummed against his lips, stroking his cheeks with your hands.
“ A little. I’ve never seen another spirit… And this one, is supposed to be the one who controls death… This is a little scary.” You pecked his lips as he chuckled.
“ You don’t have to be there.”
“ I want to.” you smiled at him. “ Can you just… Explain to me who you are going to meet.”
“ Of course, dearest. Baron Samedi is invoked to contact and communicate with the dead, he determines whether they can come visit or not. He may be asked to remove bothersome ghosts and invoked to ward off death. He is a powerful healer. Baron Samedi rules the cemetery: no one can die until he gives permission for their grave to be dug.” He stroked your cheeks, staring at your eyes. “ I don’t know if you are going to be able to see him… “
You squeezed his hands with a confident smile.
“ Do everything so nothing could tear us apart.”
He kissed you deeply before walking in front of the table with the offerings. You bit your nails as Alastor began to talk. Everything was going to go smoothly. You didn’t know if the spirit could curse you because you were too greedy about each other.
You blinked when you felt yourself becoming dizzy. You tried to stare at Alastor as you saw him stumble. He was holding his head which immediately made you worry. You stood up and walked clumsily toward him.
“ Alastor…”
“ Are you okay, dearest?” You felt his hand grab yours.
“ Aren’t you adorable ?”
You both turned around toward the table where a man was smoking the cigar that Alastor had put on the table, a moment ago, staring at you with an amused smile. The genlteman looked like an older, dark-skinned man in formal attire, dressed completely in black. He was wearing a black top hat, black suit and impenetrable black sunglasses which were missing a lens.
“ You asked for me?” he smirked before sitting on a chair, taking the cup of coffee. “ Well, I already know why. It’s not everyday I see Papa Legba and Kalfu in the same room. How are you doing, my good fellows?”
You blinked before looking behind you and saw Papa Legba, smoking his pipe while staring at you, with his usual warm expression. His back was against the wall, seeming completely calm.
“ It is nice to see you again, little lady.” he nodded toward you which made you wave shyly at him. “ And it is nice to finally meet you, Alastor.”
You looked at Alastor who was staring at Papa Legba, his eyes wide opened. You didn’t know what he was feeling right now and that was stressing you out. You squeezed his hand in your but freezed when you felt a cold presence next to you.
“ Must be nice to finally meet me, right, little missy?”
You turned your eyes toward the voice and yelped when you saw a man crouching next to you, his red eyes staring at you with a mocking smile. He looked like Papa Legba but his frame seemed more muscular and his expressions weren’t welcoming like the spirit you were now used to working with.
You felt so…little.
“ Well, it’s nice to finally meet all of you, gentlemen.” You heard Alastor talk with his usual confidence. “ I didn’t expect to have all of you with us today, but it might be for the best.” He beamed at the spirits as he took a chair to sit down.
“ You truly have beautiful eyes.” you turned around as you felt your hair being touched. You looked at The Baron Samedi who was looking at you, still seeming amused. You took a step back before being tugged on Alastor’s laps. You looked down and smiled softly at his shadow which was frowning, keeping its hand around your waist.
“ You really didn’t change, Alastor !” Baron Samedi laughed before sitting on the table, smoking his cigar. “ I used to heal you when you were unconscious after your father was done punishing you, your Mother was always asking for my help, what a caring woman.”
You felt Alastor tensed underneath you. You stroked his hand while staring at the three spirits in front of you. You were lost for words, you didn't know which question to ask.
“ Well, it’s not for being healed that I called you.”
“ ‘I’ ? Boy, you didn't call me all alone. Your darling is also in it.”
“ Nonsense. She didn’t prepare anything to summon you.” Said Alastor, his smile twitching. You knew he didn’t like when you were with him and he didn’t have full control on the situation. But you were confused.
“ Why? Am I connected to Alastor in some way?”
“ Well, little lady, of course. If not, why would you be able to see me, summon me or even work with spirits?” Papa Legba asked you with his usual calming voice.
“ Alastor already created some kind of bond between the two of you, but you already saw it, right little missy?” Kalfu smirked at you, making you shiver. He looked dangerous.
“ What are you talking about?” You asked, squeezing Alastor’s hand.
“ When you asked for your soul to leave your body to see Alastor. Didn’t you see a red thread linking you to him?”
Your eyes widened. Was that the bond? But you and Alastor didn’t make the ritual. You just thought it was guiding you toward your fiancée, nothing more. You could feel Alastor’s stare on you, stroking your thigh, surely trying to calm you.
“ But… It was so.. weak?”
“ Of course!” Laughed Baron Samedi. “ Alastor bound you the first time he tried to summon our dear Papa Legba, he had a tissue with your blood on it. Blood is really important here. That’s why when Alastor summoned Legba, he went toward you because the first thing he felt was your blood.”
“ And then, I came in, because I wanted to work with Alastor. This boy has a lot of potential.” Kalfu smirked. “ It’s in his blood.”
You looked at Alastor who was still smiling but you could see conflict in his eyes.
“ Then, how did the bound apparead when I didn’t do anything to make it happen?” Asked Alastor, looking at the spirits.
“ Well, like Kalfu told you, you have huge potential. You could have created the bond, you already had summoned me and him. You made the first step but stopped when you made a deal with Kalfu for power. That is why, right now, your bond is half-made.” Legba said, inhaling smoke from his pipe. “ But now, your other half is working with me, which makes you, in a twisted way, work with me.”
“ But you told me you would cut our deal if I were to work with..Kalfu?” you asked, feeling more confused as time was passing. “ Alastor is working with him, and yet..?”
“ Of course, little lady. Even if your control on your spirit is impressive, it’s not in your blood. You can do all that because Alastor ‘tainted’ it. If he were at his most powerful, and your bond were created, you would have maybe half of his abilities. Your body wouldn’t be able to take more.” He said to you with a sad smile. “ You would lose yourself to the spirits and end up mad.”
“ Or dead with me!” said Baron Samedi with a laugh which echoed in the basement. “ I’m joking, Alastor.” he smirked when he saw Alastor’s hand clenching on your waist.
You looked at your hands, your spirit was already giving much more than needed to protect yourself and Alastor. You just needed another thing… You looked up to Baron Samedi who whistled.
“ Ooh, red eyes? Sexy~ Tell me.”
“ You said you had the power to heal, right?” You waited for him to nod. “ I want it.”
You heard Kalfu laugh like a madman while Baron Samedi was looking at you, up and down, thinking about your demands. He asked you why, in a more serious tone.
“ I asked Papa Legba to have power so I could protect Alastor, I don’t need anything more. I can protect him but I know I’m going to fail him one day, I need to be able to help him more if he happens to be injured.” You said, you voice firm.
“ So, you would want to work with me, for my healing capacity? You know, it’s different from working with Legba? You are asking a skill of mine. Papa Legba just gives access to a spirit to work with you, the spirit chooses when to go back, if Legba allows it, unless you ask him to leave. You’re asking for a power that belongs to no small spirits, the price will hurts.”
“ Then, she doesn’t need it.” said Alastor, forcing you to look at him. “ I won’t need this power, who could hurt me?” He asked you with his usual charming and confident smile.
“ Please… Having this would put my mind at ease…” You sighed before standing up, looking at Baron Samedi who seemed in deep thought. You could feel Alastor’s shadow rooting you in place. You looked at Papa Legba for advice. “ What are your thoughts?”
“ I think it might be a great idea. “
Your eyes widened, you didn’t expect that and it seemed like Alastor and Baron Samedi were as surprised as you.
“ Her deal with me is to protect Alastor, if she keeps this power for Alastor’s use, I would allow it.” He nodded. “ It doesn’t break any rules.”
“ Then, she needs to be able to heal herself too. You told me I would be able to use her abilities but it seemed like it’s not going to happen any time soon. So I need her to be able to heal herself in case anything were to happen.”
“ When you will be powerful enough, trust me, Legba’s protégée won’t be able to do anything against you. You could just use the shadow to bring her to you.” Kalfu smirked, staring at Legba with a competitive glint in his eyes.
You stared at Alastor who looked at you with an obsessive glint in his eyes. You bit your lips, being at Alastor’s mercy was… exciting. But you wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“ So, I’m sharing my healing power with our little doll?” asked Baron Samedi with a smirk. “ Well, why not, I can’t wait to work with you. You shall be able to heal yourself and Alastor.” he stretched his hand toward you.
You looked at his hand. That was pure madness.
You shook his hand, staring at him.
You felt power invade you, swirling around you, making your hair move in the air. You could feel the energy going from your hands towards your eyes, it was a strange sensation. You were used to Legba’s warmth when you were calling him but right now, you could feel only coldness in your veins and your eyes.
You opened your eyes and looked at Baron Samedi who was grinning, holding a mirror in front of you.
“ A pleasure to work with you, doll.”
You looked at your red eyes which had now a purple hue inside them. You looked at Alastor who immediately took your face in his hands, staring at you. He frowned, keeping his smile, before wiping blood from your nose. You smiled at him to reassure him, you were feeling surprisingly great, exhausted but good.
“ Beautiful.”
You grinned at him, feeling your cheeks warm as he looked at you with so many emotions.
“ Well, before leaving. Should we talk about the rituals?”
You sat on the chair and looked at the four men talking, you couldn’t hear anything. You were so tired… You should close your eyes for a minute, it should be enough. You couldn’t believe it, you were now someone who could heal… You wondered what kind of injuries, you should ask them…
“ Darling, open your eyes.”
You opened your eyes and smiled at Alastor before looking around, confused when you saw the empty basement. The only thing that remained from the spirits was the smell of tobacco. You looked at Alastor.
“ Did I fall asleep?”
“ I’m afraid you did, dearest.” He kissed your forehead with a soft gaze. “ We should sleep.”
You looked at his face, he seemed exhausted too. You nodded and stood up, walking out of the basement, walking toward his bedroom. You took Eamon in your arms, signing in bliss. After all those years, your plushie was still there.
“ Undress, dear.”
You whined but undressed quickly, throwing your dress on his chair with the rest of your clothes. You bury yourself under the cover, trying to stay awake until you felt Alastor’s warmth against your back.
“ Is everything ready for the ritual..?” you asked, yawning.
“ Yes, you don’t have to do anything.” He kissed your naked shoulder. “ You just have to think about the wedding.”
You nodded before falling asleep in your fiancée’s arms.
—------
“ I’m doing her makeup, back off woman, back off!”
You laughed as Alice kicked off the woman who was supposed to do your makeup. You were in front of a big mirror in your wedding dress.
Today was the day you were to be wed to Alastor.
You looked as Alice came toward you to do your makeup and your hair. She had a big smile on her lips, her sapphire eyes shining with pure joy. You were touched that she was this happy for you.
“ I think we should do your hair up,showing off your neck and shoulders. You don’t have any hickeys, right?” She mocked you.
You rolled your eyes, chuckling. Of course not, you and Alastor haven’t seen each other for three days straight. You have told him that the groom wasn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding or bad luck would be cast upon the married couple. He did laugh at you but you were now working with spirits so you didn’t want any chance with karma!
However, Alastor did send his shadow toward you sometimes or he would stay under your window and you would both talk without looking at each other. He did try to tempt you into giving up this silly traduction and just join him, but for once, you didn’t fall for his sweet words even if it was difficult. Alastor had his way with words after all, resisting him was very hard, and you did miss him.
“ You are going to look amazingly beautiful. You are going to take their breath away.”
Alice had a cute pink dress with pink and blue makeup, she looked beautiful. You knew Alyzée would just melt at her sight.
After a little while you opened your eyes and gasped as you saw yourself in the mirror. You didn’t think you ever felt this beautiful. Alice really had a way to show people’s best traits. You stood up and turned around when you heard the door open and smiled when you saw your mother and father.
“ Oh, my little girl…” Your father walked toward you and hugged you gently. You were feeling so emotional but you couldn’t cry, you didn’t have the time to redo it again! “ Yesterday you were still calling me your prince charming.”
You laughed, hugging your mother who already had tears in her eyes.
“ Oh, sweetie. You look beautiful. Bravo, Alice. She looks even more breathtaking than usual.”
“ I didn’t have to do much, really.” She waved her hand , smirking at you.
You rolled your eyes at her, smiling widely.
“ Is it time yet?”
“ Can I have just one moment with you before we leave for the aisle?” asked your father, taking your hands in his. You nodded, looking at your mother and Alice leaving you alone. “ I talked with Alastor.”
“ You tried to scare him?” you chuckled which made him laugh.
“ No, no. I made him make a promise. If he ever, which I don’t think is possible but, if he ever happened to lose feeling for you, I asked him to brough you back home. He doesn't need to hurt you because he lost feelings, I just asked him to take you home. You will always be my little girl, at your lowest I will be proud of you, at your best I will also be proud. Never doubt that you will always be welcome home as long as we are alive.”
You tried so hard not to cry. You were this close to tell him everything, about the murders and everything but you held your tongue. You hugged your father tightly, those words smooth something inside you, you didn't even know needed to be appeased.
“ I love you Dad.”
“ I love you too.” he kissed your forehead, wiping his tears. “ Ready for your future ?” he smiled at you.
You nodded, taking the bouquet before holding onto your father’s arm. You walked down the stairs, trying to calm your breathing. Your father put your veil in front of your face. You found that ironic. Everyone would see you with this mask on and the only one who was going to accept your twisted self was the one who was going to take the veil to truly see you.
Your father opened two big doors in front of you as the music started playing. You began to walk down the aisle, looking at the people around you. You smiled as you saw your mother wiping her eyes while Alice was almost sobbing on Alyzée’s shoulder. You watched as Mimzy gave you a thumbs up which made you chuckle.
And then you saw him.
Alastor was standing properly, his arms behind his back, his hair slicked back like you loved it. You couldn’t see much because of the veil but you thought you saw a curly lock on his forehead.
Your father stopped next to Alastor, giving you to him.
You slid your hand into Alastor’s, shivering as you finally felt his touch after three days away from him. You saw his hand twitched before reaching for your veil, before lifting it so he could see you. You smiled warmly at him as you saw his eyes widened as he saw your face.
“ Who blessed me with you, I wonder…”
You didn’t want to cry right now. You were just feeling emotional, that was it!
You turned toward Alyzée’s father who began his speech. You weren’t really listening to his words, all of your attention was on Alastor’s hand who was stroking your hands. You didn’t notice but it was time to tell your vows. You turned toward Alastor, your eyes already wet from tears you refused to shed.
Alastor was staring at you with a soft smile and a fond gaze. He chuckled when he saw your face.
“ I shall begin. We all know she is the most emotional between the two of us.” he smirked when the crowd laughed fondly. “ Dearest…”
You sniffed. There it was.
“ I don’t think I can recall a day where you weren’t at my side. Your voice is the best melody I can remember, your touch healed much more than any doctors could have achieved. You are the first who showed me genuine emotions, you never hide yourself from me and the most important… I never felt the need to hide myself from you.”
You felt your lips wobble.
“ You waited, dearest, you waited for me to open myself to you, which is admirable in a lot of ways. But what was more important for me is that you didn't run away. You accepted me.” he kissed the back of your hand, keeping his eyes on yours. “ You decided to put your trust in me even though what we share isn’t what you used to believe in, right?” he chucked as you nodded with a shaky laugh. “ What I’m willing to give you is much more than what you have ever read, ever seen, ever experimented with. Death itself couldn’t tear us apart, I swear it , my love.”
You sobbed, your head bowing as you heard the new nickname. You tried to find something to wipe your tears and thanked Alice when she gave you a tissue. You looked at her and laughed a little when you saw she was sobbing just like you.
You tried to wipe the tears without running the makeup. You looked at Alastor who stared at you, caressing your cheek.
“ I shall love you in the way you accepted. In sickness, in health, poor, rich, I do not care. As long as you are by my side, this life is worth living.”
You smiled at him, tears gathering once more in your eyes. You saw Marie crying as everyone was clapping after Alastor’s speech. You bit your lips before taking a deep breath.
“ Alastor.” you smiled at him. “ I always thought I would have to learn how to love, that is one of the reasons I began to read romance books. And yet, I don’t think I ever question what was happening between us. I did wonder what it was called, but I didn’t have to learn to love you.” You shakily took a deep breath as you saw Alastor beamed at your words. “ It was just like breathing, it was natural.”
You squeezed his hands.
“ Being by your side is just like an evidence. Every choice I made until today, I don’t regret any of them. My heart, my mind, my soul is yours. Hell or Heaven, I know that if we are together, no obstacles could bring us down. “ You felt tears in your eyes once more, your voice trembling. “ I love you so much, it might cost me my sanity, my love.”
You gasped as Alastor tugged you against him, caging you in his arms and squeezing you. You heard the crowd clapped as you hugged him as tight as you could. You took a step back after a moment, wiping your tears without running your makeup. You looked at the mayor who asked for the rings. You smiled when you saw your cousin’s child bring them with a happy grin.
You took the ring as Alastor did the same before sliding it on your finger. You did the same before taking his hands with yours.
“ Alastor Sanglar do you take as your wife, Miss-”
“ I do.”
You chuckled as the crowd laughed. Alastor smiled at you, his eyes shining with so much emotion that were just for you. You felt like you could faint from happiness.
“ Well, someone is eager!” the mayor laughed before looking at you. “ Do you take Alastor Sanglar as your husband?”
“ I do.”
“ I declare you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.”
You smiled as Alastor tugged you toward him, kissing you like tomorrow wouldn’t exist. You felt tears on your cheeks once more as you held his face between your hands. You broke the kiss, staying near him as the crowd was shouting and clapping.
“ I love you, Alastor.. I love you, I love you..” you whispered against his lips.
“ I love you, dearest, in a way that no human would dare to love.” he whispered back, making you kiss him one more time.
You turned toward the crowd with a big smile. You looked at Alice who was clapping like her death was depending on it. Alyzée gave you a shy smile while Mimzy was winking at you, still giving you a thumb up.
You walked out of the town hall, holding on to your husband’s arms. You stayed on the stairs as journalists took pictures of you and Alastor. You laughed when the women were asking you to throw the bouquet. You turned your back to the crowd, closed your eyes and threw it.
“ Oh my gosh!”
You turned around and screamed in glee when you saw Alice with the bouquet. She walked toward you and hugged you, sniffing.
“ I’m so happy for you, sweetie.” she said.
You hugged her tighter before looking at the car, stopping in front of you. Alastor took your hand and guided you toward the vehicle before opening the door for you. The reception was going to happen in one of Alice’s father’s hotels, so you needed a car to go there but…
“ Is it our car..?”
“ A gift from Alyzée’s father.” he winked at you before you entered the car, Alastor closing the door behind you. He settled behind the wheel and began to drive until your destination.
“ I feel like I’m dreaming…” you sighed in bliss.
“ I don’t think I ever felt this… happy.” you looked at Alastor who almost seemed confused. “ Even killing my father didn’t bring me this much joy. You really are something, my love.” he smirked as he parked in the hotel’s parking lot.
Once everyone has arrived you all went into the banquet hall. You looked at all the tables and the band that was on stage, preparing themselves. You sat next to Alastor as Alice walked toward you with a piece of paper.
She did a speech, an emotional sarcastic speech. You almost cried when she was talking about your friendship with her and how lucky she was to have you in her life. You did cry though when she shed a few tears and once she finished her speech you both fell into each other's arms.
Mimzy also did a speech for Alastor, thanking him for being a friend , a gentleman she could trust.
You almost bawled when Marie walked to do a speech. You felt Alastor’s grip on your hand tightened.
“ Mon bébé… Not everything has been easy, I’m well aware. You always asked me what you could do to make me smile, to make me happy.Well, mon coeur, by being happy, you make me the happiest mother on earth. Je t’aime, quoi qu’il puisse arriver, tu seras toujours mon fils que j’aime.”
You wiped your eyes but almost sobbed when you saw Alastor’s eyes beginning to have tears. You leaned against him, sniffling. At the end of Marie’s speech, you let his hand go as he stood up and walked toward his mother before hugging her tightly against him.
You clapped with everyone as they stayed in each other's arms for a few minutes. When Alastor came back to you, you kissed his cheek with a soft smile. He gave you a vulnerable smile before taking your hand in his.
You looked as Alice’s father walked toward you.
“ Well, I do not know Alastor, but I know a woman who has always been by my daughter's side. No matter what was going on, she would take my daughter’s side. As a thank you, for being yourself, Mr and Mrs Sanglar, please accept as a wedding gift the house we wanted to sell.”
You almost fell from your chair as gasps could be heard around the room. Your eyes were wide open, you looked at Alice who seemed as shocked as you.
“ This is too much..!”
“ Please, it’s really a pleasure to give you such a gift.”
You looked at Alastor who seemed surprised too. He composed himself quicker than you and thanked the man, shaking his hand with a firm grip.
“ Well, now, we shall see the married one dance! Band, some music, please!”
Alastor guided you toward the dancefloor as a soft song began to be played. You danced with Alastor, never breaking eye contact with him. He was moving you against him until he made a gesture to the band who began to change the music, they were now playing jazz.
You smiled widely at Alastor as you both began to dance, twirling, being lifted in the air, under everyone’s eyes. No one could detach their gaze from your.
After a while, couples began to come dancing, you smiled when you saw Marie walking toward Alastor who gently took his mother for a slow dance. You danced with your father, his eyes still full of emotions.
You danced with Alice, with Alyzée, with Marie, with Victor, with Alastor. You danced until it was dark outside.
After a while you decided to take a break. You held your dress and left the party. You left the hotel, looking at the sky. You could already feel Alastor’s shadow behind you.
“ Mom, look, a princess !” You looked at a child who was pointing toward you.
“ No, she is a bride, my sweet.” she waved at you before leaving as you waved at the child.
You smiled as you closed your eyes, savoring the fresh air.
“ You look beautiful.”
You opened your eyes slowly and looked at John who was next to you. You didn't feel any anger, today was an amazing day that no one could ruin, spirits or humans.
“ Thank you.”
“ I…I’m here on behalf of my parents. Even if our friendship is no longer… They still wanted to congratulate you for your wedding, here.” he gave you a letter which you took. “ I’m not going to ruin your day so.. Goodbye.”
“ Are you going to finally leave Alastor and me alone?” you whispered but you knew he heard it because he froze.
“ … Goodnight Mrs. Sanglar.”
You watched him leave before going back to your wedding party. You smiled when you saw Alastor with a glass of whiskey , chatting with people. He looked at you as you entered the room, asking with his eyes if you were okay. You nodded before walking toward Alice who was drinking wine.
“ There she is ! Come on, girl ! You have your own home! Your own car! Your own husband!” she exclaimed while giving you a glass you quickly drank. You smiled at her.
“ I’m so happy I could faint.”
“ Please, don’t.”
You drank with Alice and Alyzée, even your mother and Marie joined you. After a moment, Alice and you went to the balcony so you two could speak. You weren’t sober anymore so you both were walking with difficulty which made you both laugh.
“ So~ Can’t wait for the honeymoon~?”
“ I don’t even know how I managed to not jump on him.” you giggled drunkenly with Alice.
“ Who are we talking about?”
You smiled as you turned around and saw a smiling Alastor.
“ We are talking about my husband.”
“ What a lucky fella! May I know what he looks like?” he smiled as Alice winked at you before leaving.
“ He looks… like sin.” you whispered as you stared at him. “ You shouldn’t be this close to me, you don’t want to meet his wrath.”
“ I’ll try my luck.” He kissed you, making you feel lighthearted. You grabbed his shoulder as you moaned his name. “ You’re finally my wife.” He looked at your ring.
“ You’re finally my husband.” you kissed his lips one more time as you both stared at each other with so much passion, tenderness, obsession, lust and love, it would almost make you faint.
“ I love you.”
Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora @gasiacos
#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor headcanons#alastor scenarios#alastor scenario#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fluff#fanfiction#alastor fanfiction#fiction#alastor fiction#human alastor#human alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fan fiction#hazbin hotel#painted smile#painted smile series
244 notes
·
View notes
Text
Payal
Summary: Anakin Skywalker is the roommate of your best friend's crush. That's all. Well, he's also a pain in the ass. But could one dance and a lucky pair of payal change things?
pairing: Anakin Skywalker x desi!reader (or just reader who's familiar/involved with that culture, no physical descriptions involved)
Warnings: None, except for 'i haven't proofread a single fucking thing' :) sorry for the mistakes in advance.
A/n: wrote something on a whim again (this is the first ever time I've written a proper fanfic tho *_*). Happy navratri y'all
Edit: Here's some payal playbacks aka any moodboard/refs if you want to know (songs, outfits, word meanings etc.)
It was Navratri, the festival in honour of the Goddess Durga. Nine nights of colours, prayers, and a whole lot of dancing. Oh, and the sweets! You couldn't wait to just rot your teeth on those festive delicacies.
It was the 5th night of festivities and today's celebrations were mainly the daily prayer and the dandiya dance. The special event for today however, was the ladies' dance competition. Your best friend had practically dragged your ass to get your name registered along with hers and your other friend Pari's, a half-assed promise of treating you to your favourite food at that fancy restaurant on the other side of the city to bribe you into the elaborate bollywood-esque romance scheme to seduce her crush. "There's no seducing!" she whisper-shouted, standing at the booth where you had to give your name, her cheeks immediately heating up at your insinuation. "I just want him to... see me, you know?" and you couldn't help but mentally scoff at that, why was she so blind? "Plus the price is money," she added, smirking as she picked up the pen to write down the names.
"Well shit, you should've said that first girl, I'm always looking to make me some moolah" your smirk matching hers even though your brain was already exhausted just *thinking* about the hours of practice she was gonna make you do to make sure everything was perfect to the T. That was over a week back, and after hours of choreographing and practising and picking out the costumes, the day was here, and despite all the whining you had done during practice, you couldn't deny that you actually hoped that her plan worked. Was it because you were tired of your oblivious best friend and her equally oblivious man playing dog and the bone with their feelings? Nooo, you could never be tired of your darling best friend's endless rants about how 'handsome he looked at the cafeteria today, in his lucky white cashmere sweater his ex-grandma gifted him in 2019' (how did she know that?) or how 'it's so sad his little sister's goldfish died because it jumped into the pot of boiling water for tea, and they've invited us to its funeral' (what?). And it most definitely wasn't because you were starting to get sick of having to watch them make those nauseating googly eyes at each other every time you hung out, for the past year. (though you wondered if it would only get worse when they finally got together.)
That's right, when, because if those two failed to get their ship sailing after tonight, you were 100% planning on just walking up to each of them, asking them what time they're free for dinner and setting them up on a date yourself. Your mental planning however, was disrupted by the creaking of the metal gate to the lawn space that had been rented for the festival. You turned around, a smile immediately pulling on your lips at the sight of the said man you were downright ready to shake like a maraca till your best friend got her deserved confession (though you expected the same on her end as well, of course). Though the smile immediately fell as well at the sight of another man walking in right behind him. Anakin. What the hell was he doing here? And truly, the scowl that pulled on your face was hardly your fault when his eyes met yours and his lips immediately turned up into that infuriating smirk as the two of them headed towards you. But before you yourself could march up to him and demand why he was here, your best friend ran up to you, gripping your arm to stop herself from crashing into you (you supposed the accidental intervention was for the better, since asking him such a thing might only give him more reason to mock you, it was obvious he was here with Krish, your best friend's crush who was also very unfortunately college roommates with Anakin, seriously how did someone as sweet as that guy get stuck with a moron like him?).
"C'mon it's time for the competition to start, ours is literally the second performance!" She started to drag you by the arm only to stop immediately at the sight of Krish causing you to crash into her. "Are we sure you can dance in the competition when you can hardly manage to walk without stumbling?" his voice immediately caused you to raise your head, glaring daggers as you squared up to throw your own taunt about how he just had to be oh so special and wear black even though tonight's theme was white. Unfortunately, you were beaten by Krish as he elbowed Anakin harshly in the rib, making you snicker at his grunt of pain, before walking even closer towards your best friend. "Aamani... hi," Krish breathed out, shifting his weight from one foot to another. And though you wanted to roll your eyes at how his eyes seemed to literally twinkle as he looked at your best friend, or how he always took time to call her by her full name despite all her friends calling her Manu, like he just had to say it every time to even begin to appreciate her entire being that he was so clearly besotted with, you couldn't help the small smirk that tugged on your lips as you gently pried your arm out of her death grip. (when the hell did she get so strong?) ‘Let's leave them to it, then.’ You thought to yourself.
And with that you walked away towards the small stage, knowing they'd most likely not see or hear anything besides the other person for at least the next half hour. "They're not gonna leave each other's side for the rest of the night, are they?" Ugh, Anakin. How had you forgotten? and now he was following you, great. "Well, they wouldn't normally, but we do have to perform our dance and we're up second, which means the lovebirds will have to sacrifice at least half an hour for final practice and the performance." Hold on, why were you entertaining him? You stopped suddenly and turned to him with a scowl, "and I'll have you know I can dance very well and I-" "Is that why you're wearing red? for the dance? I thought the theme was white today," the audacity this man had to interrupt you. "Oh did you? Is that why you instead wore black?" you popped a hip with a closed fist resting on your hipbone, raising a jeering eyebrow at him, his eyes immediately drawn to the movement and indirectly your exposed midriff and then the shiny white stud in your belly button. He gulped before quickly averting his eyes to the stage behind you. "I think they announced that they're gonna be starting the competition soon," he replied instead.
Oh shit.
"Good luck" was all he said before walking away towards the audience gathering up for the performances. Oh shit, you really had to find your best friend fast.
───────── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ⁛ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──────────
Half an hour later with your costumes readjusted and makeup re-touched you were ready to get on stage. You weren't worried about messing up as much as you were about not keeping the same amount of energy for the next half an hour. That's right, your original plans of going mostly unnoticed as your best friend's supporting dancer for a mere 4-5 minutes went down the drain the minute she blabbered about you being a dancer as a kid to the aunty from down the block who was arranging her own group dance performance and immediately downright ordered you to join her group as well. At the time you didn't mind much but now, now you were wondering if you could pretend to sprain your ankle after your first performance to avoid the other one. I mean a whole half an hour of continuous dancing? and worse, the traitor that was your best friend wasn't in the second one and so you'd been entirely alone with a bunch of strangers during the first few practice sessions. (you knew it wasn't her fault the lady didn't ask her to join but you were sure she might have accommodated another person considering it was a big dance number) So here you were now, about 30 seconds away from getting on stage, sending a quick prayer that you don't throw up at any point considering they were pretty much back-to-back dances. As soon as you heard your group being announced the three of you walked onto the stage to get in your positions. You used the brief gap before the music started to scan the huge crowd, immediately spotting Krish almost at the very front of the audience, closest to where Manu was standing, but Anakin wasn't beside him like you expected. Your eyes continuing their scan to find him in the crowd before you even realised what you were doing. Wait, why the hell am I looking for him? I need to focus on the count before the music starts.
And as soon as the music started your body naturally moved to the rhythm and beat, a light laughter bubbling in your chest as you felt the stress melt away with each step. You had forgotten just how fun being on stage actually was, and with the atmosphere of such joy and celebration it was that much livelier. Before you know it, the performance was over, Krish walking quickly to the side of the stage as you got off, still high on the adrenaline and euphoria of performing after so long, and everything had gone smoothly too. It was hard to keep the smile off your face, even more so when you saw Manu and Krish talk animatedly at the bottom of the stairs to the stage, her head thrown back, laughing at something he said and then nodding enthusiastically with a toothy grin. Her expression changing to that of shock for a brief second as Krish immediately picks her up to twirl her around, her laughter dancing in the cold night air once again. It was only your obnoxiously loud teasing whistle that broke their bubble, though only temporarily. You had to go back on stage in five minutes and you wanted to make sure that Manu had company since you wouldn't be by her side for at least the next half an hour. Though realistically you knew it was her who wouldn't be by your side for the rest of the night. Ah, young love... or whatever.
"So now that the two of you have finally been cured of your obliviosis, have fun kiddos," you smirked, "and make sure to be safe." You winked at the pair, earning you a half-hearted angry call of your name from Manu as Krish let out an awkward nervous chuckle, burying his face into her shoulder. Aww, you had embarrassed them. "What? I'm just saying, have her back by 11." you gave a pointed look at him to which he immediately straightened up, enthusiastically nodding to your words while Manu continued to glare at you. "Back by 11? What am I in middle school?" "If you were in middle school I'd want you home by 9 Miss, just what the hell sorta parents did you have?" You looked down at your watch realising your 5-minute break was nearing its end. "Okay lovebirds, I gotta go, but seriously have her home safe if you guys decide to leave the ground," you said pointing a finger at Krish, "and you,"your finger pointing at Manu now, "don't forget to text me when you're leaving and when you get back home, alright?" She left his arms to quickly walk up the stairs to the top where you stood, pulling you into a bear hug as she rocked you side to side without even giving you a chance to hug her back as she held your arms at your sides, "I'll text you." She freed you from the hug to squeeze your palms in hers, "I had a lot of fun with the dance, thank you. And good luck with your next dance, sorry I won't be there to watch it, I mean we could stay till it gets over. we'll have the rest of the night anyway. Hey Krish, maybe we should stay for–"
But you immediately cut her off, "absolutely not, you've been looking forward to this day for almost a whole month now." You shook your head as you saw her open her mouth to argue, "plus I know you have that scarf you knitted for him in your bag." you smirked as her eyes went wide with surprise, not having expected you to know that. "Pulling that lovely 'oh it's a cold night, isn't it? Here, I just so happen to have this beautiful scarf that I definitely didn't knit just for you, here, let me wrap it around your beautiful neck. Oh no, you don't have to give it back to me at the end of the night, I have a matching one at home that I totally didn't plan as a couple’s thing, no seriously you can keep it' on him? There couldn't be a better opportunity." You laughed as her ears became bright red, "I hate you and your Nancy Drew observation skills." she mumbled out of puffed cheeks before immediately pulling you into another hug. "I love you. Good luck." "Thanks, I love you." In the end, you were about 2 minutes late to your dance and the aunty's scary face as she hurriedly signalled you to get into your position made you cringe on the inside, but oh well whatever, there were so many people you doubted that anyone had noticed there was supposed to be another dancer. You were here now anyway. You were halfway through the dance, your back turned to the audience when you felt a sharp gaze on you. Weird, there were about 100 people watching you, why did you feel this one particular stare stand out? It was only when you completed the circle to turn to face the audience again that you immediately connect gazes with the sharp eyes you had felt on you. Anakin. He was standing at the very back, close to the water coolers and refreshment tables, leaning on one of the empty tables with his arms crossed. His gaze never leaving yours. For a second your thoughts drifted and you were annoyed at how good he looked in the black shimmery kurta, though the top 3 buttons being left unbuttoned was so unnecessarily extra. The sleeves folded over his forearms that stretched the fabric, his collarbones standing out from the open collar. Such a slut. But damn did he look fine. Wait, what the hell? Focus, focus, focus. You couldn't lose count mid-step. And tripping right now would mess up everyone's steps since it was a circular movement. Why the hell would you trip over him anyway? Ugh. And so you focused back on your steps, continuing to feel that strange unwavering gaze on you for the rest of your dance.
Half an hour later, you were entirely done with the dance competition. Your feet hurt, your stomach was grumbling every few seconds and you were sure you'd be getting a headache from being so close to the speakers for so long. Thankfully, the emcee had announced a short break for refreshments and such, before the rest of the dances and then the final event to end the night — the dandiya dance. Were you positively exhausted and maybe even getting real tired of all the dancing and loud music? Most definitely. But Manu had texted you saying they'd be back for the final dandiya dance and you were really hoping to get to dance at least once with her, you know, outside the competition, just for funsies sort of stuff. So your irritation? Nothing some tasty snacks and maybe a cold drink couldn't solve. That was until an unfortunately familiar face came into your view as he plopped into the seat right next to yours at the circular table. Not the two other tables that were entirely empty (wasn't he supposed to be some emo loner who preferred to sulk in a corner?) or even the chair on the other side of the table (though you wondered if having him directly in your line of sight would make it worse). But no, he just had to sit right next to you with his stupid pretty eyes purposefully not meeting yours and his annoying plump lips innocently wrapping around the spoon with a piece of gulab jamun on it. He didn't even like sweets.
"Um— what the hell?" "What?" he looked at you with doe eyes rounded in innocence, and your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Nothing, never mind," you were too tired and too hungry to start anything right now and what would you even ask, 'Why the hell are you sitting next to me?' 'didn't know there was some rule telling me where I can sit' is what he'd say, maybe roll his eyes at you, the usual stuff. So you continued eating your puff pastry in silence. Until you just had to ask, "I thought you didn't like sweets?" You tried to make your voice sound as non-judgemental as possible, you were only curious after all. "And who told you that?" he raised an eyebrow at you. Truthfully, nobody. But you had noticed the way he always avoided the dessert table at parties and functions, the way he only drank his coffee black; not even your best friend's infamous black forest cake that she had made for Krish's birthday a few months back had tempted him to even grab a Yolanda-approved bite. Yolanda would certainly be proud. Obviously, this had nothing to do with you observing him particularly, you just observed a lot of things around you, and he just very unfortunately happened to be around you a lot, being Krish's roommate and 'brotha from anotha motha' or whatever they said. And yet, here he was eating a freaking gulab jamun that was absolutely dripping with the sugary-est syrup. Did he hit his head on the way or something?
"Did you hit-" "I ran into Krish and Aamani, she told me to give this to you," he interrupted you yet again, turning to face you and pulling out a long silver chain-like thing, which upon a closer look you realised with an elated gasp, was the missing half of your lucky pair of payal, the one you'd been looking for everywhere earlier that evening. "I thought these came in pairs," it was a question from the tone with which he said it, but his eyes remained fixated on the jewellery in his hands, thumb running over the delicate silver with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. You lifted the hem of your skirt a little, head tilting down to point at your left ankle, "they do. I just couldn't find the other one." You shook your head, going back to taking a sip of your drink, "I like the sound they make when you dance, it's fun, so I thought ek hai toh ek hi sahi," catching his questioning gaze you translated, "if there's only one then so be it, I hardly ever get to wear these anyway." You shrugged, "Manu must've found it later and forgotten to give it to me earlier. I think their dating honeymoon phase is gonna be worse than their not-dating honeymoon phase" You rolled your eyes affectionately, expecting him to make a teasing remark too or at least give you that amused smirk. Instead you saw him give an almost imperceptible yet decisive nod, quickly sliding off his chair to kneel in front of you. "What are you-" He gently lifted your right foot onto his folded knee, his nimble fingers making quick work of the clasp on your anklet. Your stomach fluttered as you felt the warmth of his hands on your cold bare ankle, and you were sure if you still had that sip of cold drink in your mouth, your lungs would be burning from snorting it down the wrong pipe, and definitely not because he might've stolen your breath. His fingers skimmed in a barely there touch down your foot. Till now, his gaze had been entirely focused on clasping the jewellery but now that he was done he lifted his head, looking directly into your eyes from his still kneeling position, your faces a few inches apart. This time you could feel your heart burn. Dang, maybe you should cut down on the greasy food and drinks. His gaze briefly shifted to your lips, but then he quickly got up, dusting off his pants, picking up his empty gulab jamun cup, throwing a quick, "I'mgonnagothrowthis" over his shoulder and then he was gone. He quickly disappeared into the crowds while you still sat there, entirely motionless. Your mind blank except for the phantom feeling from his feather touch on your skin.
It was finally time for the last round of dancing. You had run into Manu and Krish while carrying your trash to the bin, the emptiness of your thoughts completely overthrown by the excited shout of your name. You were surprised they had spotted you first, considering all the doped-up lovey smiles and heart-eyes you noticed when they walked to you. The brief hand squeeze and wide-eyed glance from her let you know you were in for an entire night of dramatic recalling of every detail of their evening and you could only shake your head with a fond smirk. As you all walked back towards the dance area, Manu spoke up, "Oh, did you get the payal I'd given Anakin to give to you?" she looked down at your feet though they were covered with your skirt. You supposed she heard them jingle, the sound louder and more noticeable now that you were wearing both of them. But her question brought back that unwanted memory from earlier in the evening instead, and you fought real hard to keep your face from heating up, inhaling a deep breath as inconspicuously as possible, "uh– yeah, he um.. he did." you nodded your head a little too aggressively, "I mean I got it, yeah." Lightly lifting your skirt to show your pair of anklets safely secured, by the most gentle hands you'd ever felt. This time you felt your ears undeniably heat up. 'What the hell? Why were you so fixated on that one thing? It was nothing. It's not like he was sliding a wedding ring on you or something.' Though for some reason, that thought only made your breath stutter as you felt the lava-like blood now rushing to your cheeks. Ugh, get a grip, get. a. grip. And since you were too busy trying to appear totally normal and shoot the butterflies in your stomach dead, you missed the mischievous look that Manu shot Krish as she gave a quick squeeze to his hand in hers. "Should we really have been spying on them like that? And worse, taking photos of them without them knowing?" and though his question was whispered through a sigh he squeezed her hand right back.
"Oh, hush. 10 years from now when they have cute little munchkins running around, I'll have proof to show that *I* was the one that set their ship sailing." she answered with a smirk. "You've thought about their kids? 10 years from now??" he raised his brows with an incredulous laugh. "Of course. I think about everything." Even the things that you were too practical to consider. Your words, not hers. 'Blind' is what she would call it. You may have the observation skills rivalling that of the most infamous detectives, but she had The Vision. And she knew in her guts that you two were just meant to end up together. "Oh yeah? Then what have you thought about our 10 years? We got 'cute little munchkins' in our cards too?" he tossed an arm around her shoulders, snuggling her close to him to teasingly tickle at her exposed waist. "Mmm, for now our cards hold a very very important mission." She answered and he sighed again, knowing exactly where this was heading. "Let me guess, mission 'get your best friend and my best friend together for the last dance to recreate another Bollywood-style romantic scene?" he raised a brow, coming to a stop as they reached the edge of the canopy of lights and fabrics. "It's only been a few hours and you've already gained the boyfriend-telepathy skills. Impressive." She wiggled her brows at him while turning around in his arms, "I need you to find Anakin and somehow get him to agree to dance." Sensing his hesitation she quickly continued, "I know it won't be easy, but you'll manage. Once we get them both here we need to make sure they're on opposite sides of the circle so that when the final song comes they'll be paired together" she finished. "You really have thought this through, huh? I can't guarantee that he'll agree to dance, I mean it's Anakin we're talking about," noticing her pleading pout he rolled his eyes in fond exasperation, "but I'll try."
With that, he left and she walked to where you were standing, finishing up talking to some old lady, no doubt held hostage to some good ol’ ‘I knew you since you were thisss little’ talk for the past few minutes that the two had spent whispering their plan, but she quickly patted your cheek and left. "So, tonight's the exclusive dandiya night," she wiggled her brows like it was supposed to mean something, it was. You laughed, not understanding her implication. "What about it?" She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "it's dandiya dumbass. As in, you know, pairs dancing," she continued when she realised your light bulb was still dim. "Oh," you hadn't thought about that, too caught up in the dance competition to care about the other stuff. "Yeah, ‘oh.’ So, who you gonna choose?" "Um...you?" though it came out unsure. "I appreciate the sentiment babe, I really do. I would choose you too–" You raised a brow at that, "but?" "But'" she made a show of dragging out the word then throwing her arms out to her sides, "look at the crowd around you, there's so many kids our age, there's quite a few guys our age too." And finally you caught onto her line of thoughts, narrowing your eyes you shook your head. "Absolutely not. We are not doing this tonight, well I mean you're settled, so I'm not doing this tonight." But the fates seemed to be on her side that night, as she noticed Krish and Anakin talking a few paces away towards the outskirts of the canopy while you both stood at the centre, you hadn't noticed them yet but she could see Anakin shaking his head in a firm no as well. Gosh why were the both of you so difficult? But she also noticed another opportunity walk towards you, and a hopeful scenario played out in her head, courtesy of The Vision. And so she immediately got to work.
"Hey AJ!" she called out to the guy just about to walk by you a few steps away, "didn't you mention that you don't have a partner for tonight's dandiya?" Your eyes widened and you subtly tried to pinch her to stop her from saying the next words but it was too late, "My best friend here also doesn't have a partner, would you mind pairing up with her if you haven't already found someone else?" In speaking to the guy, both of you had turned to fully face him, so she couldn't see Anakin’s reaction anymore. She hoped he had heard what she had just asked this guy. He had. While the two had been devising their plan off to the side, you had been standing at the centre of the canopy taking time to clear your mind and cool yourself. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the gorgeous lights and colourful fabrics that hung above you, mesmerised by how pretty they looked standing out against the dark nighht sky beyond. And though you may never know, Anakin had spotted you right then, standing there in your pretty red ghagra, face tilted to look above you, and it had looked like one of the most gorgeous things he had ever seen, you had looked so pretty with all the lights gleaming in your eyes. And though he was too far to see it, he knew your gaze held that golden twinkle that shone every time you were genuinely happy, though he had hardly been on the receiving end of it. So he had always observed from afar, just as he was doing tonight. His thoughts had been interrupted by the movement of someone approaching him in his periphery. It turned out to be Krish, who clapped him on the back as a greeting and then asked him if he had eaten anything to which Anakin's mind flashed to the almost nauseating sweetness of the tooth-rotting dessert he'd had, immediately followed by the image of the delicate jewellery around your ankle and he quickly shut the door on that thought, instead answering with a single nod.
"Good, good 'cause you're gonna need some energy for a while." Anakin only raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response, while Krish thought of the best, most convincing way to... well, to convince him. "Y/N needs a partner..." "Okay…?" "For the dance, I mean. she needs a partner for the dandiya, she doesn't have one..." he trailed off again, should he just be straightforward with it? "It's you." "What?" Anakin's head snapped to look at him like he was insane. "It's you. You're going to dance with her." "What the fuck? No, I'm not?" it came out as a question because he was baffled as to how his own best friend could say something as dumb as that. Dancing? him? That's fucking funny. "Yes, you are. She needs a partner. You need a partner. The solution is obvious." "Like hell it is. I don't need a partner, 'cause I'm not fucking dancing." He shook his head decisively. "You want to though. You know you want to dance with her." Krish said with a pointed look. "And just what the hell made you think that?" "I'm your best friend, Ani. Do you think I'm blind or—" "Hey AJ!" Aamani's voice had carried over to the two of them, halting their conversation as their attention was now on the two of you, though your backs were turned to them. Aamani's voice was somehow loud enough that they got the gist of it, she had asked this AJ to be your partner, and from the way he walked over to the two of you, your best friend introducing you to each other, him shaking your hand and the dazzling smile you gave him in return, Anakin felt an irrational sorts of a burning pit in his stomach. "Well, looks like the deal's done. She's got her fucking partner." He pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning on, walking away. "Wait! Dude! Where you go—" "Out." and with that he quickly walked towards the back exit of the ground, walking through the gates and out into the cold night. But he had been wrong. AJ hadn't yet agreed to dance with you, or rather Aamani hadn't given him the chance to, stalling him by telling you that he was studying the same thing as you, though he went to a different university. She had been buying time, hoping that any second now, Anakin and his impulsiveness would come barging and say that you've already got a partner. But time was running short as the conversation between the two of you came back to the topic of tonight's dance. "So, you don't have a partner for the dandiya either?" she heard him ask. Where the hell was Anakin? But her movie-like vision for his entrance onto the scene immediately shattered when she turned to see what was holding him, only to see Anakin nowhere in sight and her boyfriend standing alone with a small frown on his face. Catching his eyes she sent him a questioning look, to which he only shook his head dejectedly. And she knew her plan had failed. For her, at least. Because when she turned back around, she saw you agreeing with AJ to meet up under the canopy before the start of the dance before he excused himself, mentioning something about helping move the chairs or whatever. You too said something about meeting up with one of your older hometown friends you'd run into right before the dance competition. You'd promised to come find her when you were free to catch up on things. And so you left as well.
But at that point, Manu could only think about how wrong this was. She knew it was her who had asked AJ to dance with her best friend, so she couldn't blame him. But Anakin – Anakin she could blame. And she could also just about drag his ass back here to ask him what the hell was he doing? With the way the whole payal scene had gone, and knowing Anakin's possessive nature, she was almost 100% sure he'd metaphorically sweep you off your feet (before literally sweeping you off your feet during the dance). So why the hell was her best friend going to be dancing with a guy she was (frustratingly) getting along with instead?
Krish had walked his way back to stand behind her, but not even his warmth and the comforting palm he ran up and down her bare arm could stop the disappointed frown pulling on her lips. She turned to her boyfriend with a concerned expression, "Did I just accidentally push my best friend towards the wrong guy, with the right guy storming off to who knows where?"
Part 2: Jhumka
a/n: so.... there's 4 more nights left... do you think they'll ever get their dance? 👀
A/n: Thank you all so much if you spent your time on this trash wreckage fuelled by finals stress and unfulfilled dreams </3
Would love to hear feedback on this one! Don't hesitate to send me any ques or just anything that comes to mind relating to our dearest love-haters and the overzealous matchmakers ;)
#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker#anakin x reader#star wars#hayden christensen x reader#slow burn#anakin imagine#anakin fluff#hayden christensen#fanfic#fanfiction#desi reader#miel works
91 notes
·
View notes