#Beast Wars - Second Chances
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Transformers: Beast Wars - Second Chances - Page 13
Originally posted on February 2nd, 2011
Story - Shaun Flaherty Art - Daniel Olsén Letters - HdE
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wada sez: “It’s over... finished!” is a Furmanism, obviously. See below for Flaherty’s original script and a sketch by Olsén.
PAGE THIRTEEN (six panels)
Panel 1. Inside the wreckage of the Nemesis. Inferno (robot mode) emerges from a Predacon creation/restoration tank.
Reference: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meQV1KKTgKQ (2:46) wada sez: dead link Inferno (Seibertron) Inferno (TFWiki) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s7ACyr4lro (0:28) wada sez: dead link
CAP: The Nemesis.
CAP/DEPTH CHARGE: “What’s wrong with you idiots --”
Panel 2. Depth Charge (robot mode) explains the situation to Inferno and Quickstrike (robot mode), but he finds them incredibly frustrating. By this point, all three have been fully restored.
Reference: Depth Charge (Seibertron) Depth Charge (TFWiki) Quickstrike (Seibertron) Quickstrike (TFWiki)
DEPTH CHARGE: -- don’t you get it?
DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Unless you help me stop that army, it’s over.
DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Finished!
DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): Oh, don’t make me puke.
Panel 3. Inferno and Quickstrike stare vacantly at us. They are unmoved.
DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): You know the magic words.
DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): Say ‘em.
Panel 4. A close-up of Depth Charge’s face. He takes a shot in the dark.
DEPTH CHARGE: …
DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Defend the colony?
Panel 5. A close-up of Inferno’s face. He unleashes a battle cry.
INFERNO: Defend the colony!
Panel 6. In the background, Inferno rockets into the air, carrying a reluctant Quickstrike by the “scruff” of his neck; they exit through a jagged breach in the hull of the Nemesis. In the foreground, Depth Charge rests his face in his open hand, exasperated.
QUICKSTRIKE: Hey --
QUICKSTRIKE (continued): Hey! I ain’t defendin’ squat.
QUICKSTRIKE (continued): Set me down, ya big lummox!
DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): See? I knew you had it in you --
DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): -- me.
#Transformers#Beast Wars - Second Chances#Maccadam#Beast Wars#Shaun Flaherty#Daniel Olsén#HdE#Depth Charge#Inferno#Quickstrike#Rampage
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thinking abt prof!Bucky eating you out in his little office...
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warning: 18+, smut
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
you had been on his mind for the whole entire day, the hunger inside him so irritating that he had no other chance to break your little rule of not doing anything in public.
now down on his knees and between your thighs, he’s messy being and he’s being sloppy – he’s got your slick running down his chin as he fucks you with his tongue, and his glasses keep fogging up from the way he keeps burying his face into your warm cunt. he’s like a starved beast, devouring you as if you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to eat.
with your free hand, you tug at his roots and it only makes things worse for you because the action makes bucky groan into you and the vibrations that sends all over your body are so intense that your eyes go cross.
voices coming from the hallway fall deaf to your ears, your mind solely set on your sweet professor’s tongue. he moves his whole head, not just the muscle, and soon enough you’re guiding him just the way you like with the hand in his hair.
you can’t keep your hips still either, grinding into him every time you push him against you. and he lets you do it. he lets you do it all.
Bucky isn’t ashamed to get on his knees, nor is he ashamed to let you use him for your own pleasure – despite the fact that it was his aching cock that got the two of you into his situation, he’s more than willing to forget about his own needs as long as he knows that you’re feeling good.
he loves the way your brows furrow and he loves the way your chest rises and falls. he loves to watch beads of sweat form on your forehead and he loves to watch you try and muffle your moans. he loves the way your body keeps on twitching and he loves the way you keep clenching around him. and he fucking loves the way you taste.
his cock throbs under the layers of clothing, just begging to be set free but Bucky refuses to take his hands off of you.
he’d rather suffer from actual blue balls than to give you any less attention than you deserve. his boxers are ruined with his pre-cum, his balls full and heavy, as he gets off on the mere sight of you. he reckons he’s never been this fucking hard before, better yet this close to cumming untouched, and he’s sure you’ve actually bewitched him. not that he’s complaining though.
you make him feel alive.
hell, he'd go to fucking war for your pretty little smile. when you give his roots a particularly rough tug, he knows you're close. so, he lets go of one of your thighs and brings it to your pussy instead; latching his lips around your sensitive clit, he sucks on the nub while lining up his two digits with your weeping hole.
the face you make when he pushes them in is fucking priceless - your lips part in a silent moan, your eyes screwing themselves shut as you approach your high.
using his middle and ring finger, the professor makes a wave-like motion inside you and suddenly there's a weird type of pressure building inside you, making your eyes shoot wide open again.
"ah! fuck- wait!" your broken whines are like music to his ears. "gonna- gonna make a mess!"
you paw at his head in a weak attempt of making him back away but to no avail, if anything he presses himself even closer - his fingers are so deep that they're touching places you didn't even know about and his lips are so soft and his tongue so warm and skilled and the band in your tummy gets tighter and tighter with every passing second.
Bucky takes his mouth off of you for only a fraction of a second. "make a mess then, doll, c'mon."
your glassy eyes meet his dark, lust-filled green ones and the determination pooling in them is the last push you need to finally unravel. your back arches off the chair and you can't hold back the loud moan that forces its way out from the depths of your lungs.
Bucky’s shirt gets completely soaked when you squirt all over him but he doesn't stop. the liquid seeps through the flimsy material and he can feel it on his skin, and fuck, is it hot.
a tear runs over the apple of your cheek and Bucky itches to kiss it away. your lip wobbles as you writhe in utter bliss, mind all hazy from the overstimulation.
as the wave of pleasure flows through you, the exhaustion finally settles in, making you drop your hand from his hair.
but before it can go any further, Bucky takes it into his. with his arm still under your thigh, he just presses it into your side and just keeps it there.
he helps you ride out your orgasm and the thought of not stopping, of going further, floods his brain - he wants to make you do that again, he wants you to make an even bigger mess but the clock on the wall behind you is clicking awfully close to his next class and he can't put either of you at any more risk.
hesitantly, he pulls his fingers out of you and tears his eyes from you to look at your abused hole. he groans at the sight of it and then he's already leaning forward to get one final taste. swallowing a whimper, you do your utmost best to stay still and to let him have his little reward.
he pushes himself off the ground, grinning from ear-to-ear with pride blooming in his chest as he looks at your disheveled form. biting your lip, you reach for him but are barely able to ghost your fingers over his bulge when he's stopping you.
"no, but...?"
Bucky’s lips smash against yours in a sloppy, haste kiss. and then he's pulling away again.
"Y'gonna suck me off while i give class, hm?" he teases while brushing some damp stray hairs from your forehead.
"i would."
Bucky’s heart stutters - no, it fucking stops working for a few good seconds. he stares at you with his lips parted and you get to watch in real time how the tips of his ears grow red again.
"don't- don't fuckin' say that." he grumbles at you, averting his gaze. "shit."
you laugh at his reaction but don't let him go away too far, tugging on his belt loops to bring him back. "yours or mine, professor?"
"mine, hm? i'll make ya something to eat."
cocking a brow you tease him a bit more, unable to let any of the opportunities go to waste. "like real food or...?"
he gives you a real professor-like look and you boop his nose. he lets you do as you wish but then he's wrapping his fingers around your wrist. "real food."
"okay."
"yeah?"
"yeah."
there's a moment of silence between you. the most comfortable kind. neither of you look away from each other's eyes, smitten and a bit giddy. excited.
"go change your shirt now, mister."
you poke a finger at his chest and almost cringe at the big wet stain you've given him. "wait, do you just have a change of clothes here with you?"
"no."
you cock a brow. "no?"
"Tony- i mean, mr. Stark, will bring me something."
"what the hell will you even tell him?"
"spilled my water." Bucky’s voice is calm as ever, deep and raspy, and all you want to do now after he's been so good to you, is to cuddle with him. "don't worry about it, doll, yeah?*
with a nod and a quiet hum, you comply. he leans to give you another kiss and an ass squeeze and then he's bidding you goodbye with a smug grin as you straighten out your clothes and collect your belongings before making your way out of his office.
you give him one last wave and disappear into the hallway, leaving Bucky standing there with a raging boner and a squirt-stained shirt.
he is not complaining.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#blurb#smut#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#marvel#marvel smut
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18+ mdni; fem!reader
thinking abt film prof!toji eating you out in his little office... you had been on his mind for the whole entire day, the hunger inside him so irritating that he had no other chance to break your little rule of not doing anything in public.
now down on his knees and between your thighs, he’s messy being and he’s being sloppy – he’s got your slick running down his chin as he fucks you with his tongue, and his glasses keep fogging up from the way he keeps burying his face into your warm cunt. he’s like a starved beast, devouring you as if you’re the last meal he’ll ever get to eat.
his nose bumps against your swollen clit and you throw your head back and bite at your own fingers to keep your moans at bay and toji tightens his grip on your legs to keep you from squirming away from him.
with your free hand, you tug at his roots and it only makes things worse for you because the action makes toji groan into you and the vibrations that sends all over your body are so intense that your eyes go cross.
voices coming from the hallway fall deaf to your ears, your mind solely set on your sweet professor’s tongue. he moves his whole head, not just the muscle, and soon enough you’re guiding him just the way you like with the hand in his hair. you can’t keep your hips still either, grinding into him every time you push him against you. and he lets you do it.
he lets you do it all.
toji isn’t ashamed to get on his knees, nor is he ashamed to let you use him for your own pleasure – despite the fact that it was his aching cock that got the two of you into his situation, he’s more than willing to forget about his own needs as long as he knows that you’re feeling good.
he loves the way your brows furrow and he loves the way your chest rises and falls. he loves to watch beads of sweat form on your forehead and he loves to watch you try and muffle your moans. he loves the way your body keeps on twitching and he loves the way you keep clenching around him.
and he fucking loves the way you taste.
his cock throbs under the layers of clothing, just begging to be set free but toji refuses to take his hands off of you. he’d rather suffer from actual blue balls than to give you any less attention than you deserve. his boxers are ruined with his pre-cum, his balls full and heavy, as he gets off on the mere sight of you. he reckons he’s never been this fucking hard before, better yet this close to cumming untouched, and he’s sure you’ve actually bewitched him. not that he’s complaining though.
you make him feel alive.
hell, he’d go to fucking war for your pretty little smile.
when you give his roots a particularly rough tug, he knows you’re close. so, he lets go of one of your thighs and brings it to your pussy instead; latching his lips around your sensitive clit, he sucks on the nub while lining up his two digits with your weeping hole. the face you make when he pushes them in is fucking priceless – your lips part in a silent moan, your eyes screwing themselves shut as you approach your high.
using his middle and ring finger, the professor makes a wave-like motion inside you and suddenly there's a weird type of pressure building inside you, making your eyes shoot wide open again.
“ah! fuck– wait!” your broken whines are like music to his ears. “gonna– gonna make a mess!”
you paw at his head in a weak attempt of making him back away but to no avail, if anything he presses himself even closer – his fingers are so deep that they’re touching places you didn’t even know about and his lips are so soft and his tongue so warm and skilled and the band in your tummy gets tighter and tighter with every passing second.
toji takes his mouth off of you for only a fraction of a second. “make a mess then, doll, c’mon.”
your glassy eyes meet his dark, lust-filled green ones and the determination pooling in them is the last push you need to finally unravel. your back arches off the chair and you can’t hold back the loud moan that forces its way out from the depths of your lungs. toji’s shirt gets completely soaked when you squirt all over him but he doesn’t stop. the liquid seeps through the flimsy material and he can feel it on his skin, and fuck, is it hot.
a tear runs over the apple of your cheek and toji itches to kiss it away. your lip wobbles as you writhe in utter bliss, mind all hazy from the overstimulation. as the wave of pleasure flows through you, the exhaustion finally settles in, making you drop your hand from his hair. but before it can go any further, toji takes it into his. with his arm still under your thigh, he just presses it into your side and just keeps it there.
he helps you ride out your orgasm and the thought of not stopping, of going further, floods his brain – he wants to make you do that again, he wants you to make an even bigger mess but the clock on the wall behind you is clicking awfully close to his next class and he can’t put either of you at any more risk.
hesitantly, he pulls his fingers out of you and tears his eyes from you to look at your abused hole. he groans at the sight of it and then he’s already leaning forward to get one final taste. swallowing a whimper, you do your utmost best to stay still and to let him have his little reward.
he pushes himself off the ground, grinning from ear-to-ear with pride blooming in his chest as he looks at your disheveled form. biting your lip, you reach for him but are barely able to ghost your fingers over his bulge when he’s stopping you.
“no, but… ?”
toji’s scarred lips smash against yours in a sloppy, haste kiss. and then he’s pulling away again.
“y’gonna suck me off while i give class, hm?” he teases while brushing some damp stray hairs from your forehead.
“i would.”
…
toji’s heart stutters – no, it fucking stops working for a few good seconds. he stares at you with his lips parted and you get to watch in real time how the tips of his ears grow red again.
“don’t– don’t fuckin’ say that.” he grumbles at you, averting his gaze. “shit.”
you laugh at his reaction but don’t let him go away too far, tugging on his belt loops to bring him back. “yours or mine, professor?”
“mine, hm? i’ll make ya something to eat.”
cocking a brow you tease him a bit more, unable to let any of the opportunities go to waste. “like real food or… ?”
he gives you a real professor-like look and you boop his nose. he lets you do as you wish but then he’s wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “real food.”
“okay.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
there’s a moment of silence between you. the most comfortable kind. neither of you look away from each other’s eyes, smitten and a bit giddy. excited.
“go change your shirt now, mister.”
you poke a finger at his chest and almost cringe at the big wet stain you’ve given him. “wait, do you just have a change of clothes here with you?”
“no.”
you cock a brow. “no?”
“sukuna– i mean, mr. sukuna, will bring me something.”
“what the hell will you even tell him?”
“spilled my water.” toji’s voice is calm as ever, deep and raspy, and all you want to do now after he’s been so good to you, is to cuddle with him. “don’t worry about it, doll, yeah?” with a nod and a quiet hum, you comply. he leans to give you another kiss and an ass squeeze and then he’s bidding you goodbye with a smug grin as you straighten out your clothes and collect your belongings before making your way out of his office. you give him one last wave and disappear into the hallway, leaving toji standing there with a raging boner and a squirt-stained shirt. he is not complaining.
#i think he would try to do the 'no fucking at the uni' thing at first#bc well.. he really doesn't want to be caught lmao#but how could he resist you hm........#toji#wtf mickey can write#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#jjk toji#jjk x reader#jjk smut#film prof!toji
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Nik flies. Ghost pines. Price... considers.
cw: hints of a future polyamorous relationship.
“Whit's he daein'?” Soap asked, folding his arms and legs as he watched Nik in the near distance.
Price looked up from the report in his lap, roll up twitching between his lips. Nik was pacing back and forth, fists, hands and arms moving in rhythmic, practised motions in front of his chest, by his hips, occasionally twisting behind him. But there was no opponent, only the imaginary one in Nik's head in the shape of the jet he was about to fly. “Shadowboxin.”
“Aye, ah c’n see tha’, sir. How come?”
Simon shifted on Price's right. He had been watching Nik with a palpable hunger. Even with his mask, the intensity of his gaze was hard to miss. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost husky. Like he was wading out of deeper, warmer thoughts. “Trainin’ exercise to practice his spatial awareness, coordination, and muscle memory before gettin’ in the cockpit. That thing ain’t his Black Hawk. Whole different animal. Second fastest jet in service.”
“That thing? S’massive. Na wey it kin shift. He'd ‘ave more fun in an F-15.”
The Foxbat was the size of a World War II heavy bomber — nine feet longer than an Avro Lancaster, two and a half feet taller than a B-24 and with a gross weight almost twenty-seven thousand pounds heavier than a Boeing B-17. Price had seen old black and white photographs on Nik's phone of Soviet technicians servicing the damn thing; they’d looked like toy soldiers scurrying around in its shadow.
The ride in the MiG-25 was a gift from Laswell as a thank you for Nik's help on a black op. Not even Price knew much about it, but it had to have been gnarly for her to pull this many strings. The Foxbat was fully fuelled and Nik's flight plan had been filed. Nik was going to throw that tank of an aircraft around the skies like he was twenty-two again, and he'd been vibrating with excitement during the walk out.
���Big man, big plane,” Simon murmured, “and he's got’a special attachment to it, even though it's a bit shite.”
Price plucked his cigarette from his mouth and tapped the ash onto the concrete by his thigh, considering Simon closely. There had been a change in him recently, especially around Nik. He spent a lot of time watching Nik - all out staring, as Simon was prone to do - standing close to him during briefings, finding reasons to talk to him in down time. He was flirting without realising it. Price knew why. Nik had told him about the hair incident, and asked whether there was any possibility of enticing Simon into a little more.
Honestly? Price had laughed at the time. ‘Better chance of gettin’ a gobby off of Makarov’ had been his exact words. But now that he had watched Simon around Nik for a month, he wasn't so sure his initial assessment was accurate. Even now, his body was enticed towards Nik. His arms were folded but his posture was open, upper back against the wall but hips in Nik's direction, his feet spread, shifting and twitching like there was something bubbling beneath his skin.
“Oh aye? Why's he so keen on it then?” Soap asked, giving Simon the side eye. The sergeant wasn't thick; he'd seen it too.
“Foxbat scared the Americans shitless during the Cold War. They got these spy satellite photos showin’ that beast, engine intakes the size of small cars. Big wings, potential for more maneuverability ‘an the F-4 Phantom II. But a pilot called Viktor Belenko defected and showed her to be a dud. Wife divorcin’ him, disaffected with communist society. In 1976, he left his sortie and went to Japan. Landed at Hakodate, overran the runway, shut down with only thirty seconds of fuel remainin’. Handed ‘em a brand new Foxbat and a fockin’ trainin’ manual to dissect.”
Simon rattled it all off without pause, and Price had to fight his grin to keep his expression passive. Well, that bloody well confirmed it. Simon had hyperfixated on the plane that Nik treasured. There were probably several more encyclopedias worth of knowledge on the damn thing in his head, ready to use with Nik later. That was how Simon tried to connect with people; shitty jokes and learning about them through what they loved.
“‘Ow the fuck d’ye know all that?” Soap asked, smirking. He'd sussed it too.
“I read,” Simon said dryly. “Try it some time.”
“Och, baltic, sir.” Soap sniffed, head tilting the other way. “So, he feels some kinda kindred spirit with Belenko.”
Simon shrugged. “Maybe. Or he's a fockin’ plane nerd and flyin’ that thing would be like the old man wankin’ over those Nortons at Bletchley Park.”
“Yeah, wondered when it'd be my turn,” Price growled, rolling his eyes.
“At least it dunnae need a drip tray and a prayer to stay together, eh?”
“Ya tolkin’ about Price or the bikes?” Simon's head lolled to the side as he spoke, tone rife with wry amusement.
Soap cackled, and Price slapped the folder closed in his lap. “Olrigh’, can it, ya muppets.”
“Aye, sir. Ah, look, mus’ be his slot.”
They watched the Foxbat taxi down the runway under the direction of the flight crew, their exaggerated hand gestures and bouncing completely alien to the three soldiers sitting by the hanger but clearly recognisable to Nik, who made a hand gesture in return before he looked forward.
Price returned his cigarette to his mouth, leaning back to watch Nik climb the jet as the flight crew assembled. Time to take off. Nik bounced a little on his toes before he hauled himself up to the cockpit, shoving the headset and helmet on, aviators still in place because Nik was absolutely permitted his cornier foibles. This was a dream come true for him. Laswell had outdone herself.
Price grabbed the ear defenders nearby and chucked another set across to Soap; Simon was already prepared. The engines roared into life, making the air shimmer with heat and power, and the big jet accelerated down the runway, leaving the tarmac in one of the smoothest take offs Price had ever seen. Well, of course it was; it was Nik after all.
The Foxbat disappeared above the clouds quickly and Price glanced over at Simon. He didn't move until the grey smudge reappeared against the open skies further to the east. The jet rolled and banked, ascending almost vertical for a stall turn that made even Price's belly do a little flip. It shot back past the hanger, the sound of its engines lagging behind its visible position as Nik pushed it hard. Price wished he could hear Nik whooping and rambling in Russian; air traffic control were probably feeling a little uneasy.
Simon never dropped his chin. He remained stoic, his arms folded, but his mind was up in the clouds with Nik. They both were. The difference was that Price knew he would be unzipping that flight suit later and enjoying everything underneath, whereas Simon would deprive himself for fear of being hurt, no matter how much he wanted it. Price hummed, stubbing out his cigarette. Perhaps it was time to indulge Nik’s curiosity, and his own carefully managed and suppressed feelings. Simon wasn't the only one who had denied the obvious for self preservation.
Eventually, the flight had to come to an end. Nik brought the Foxbat down gently, the landing gear screeching against the tarmac briefly as Nik negotiated the short runway. He taxied back round to park her almost exactly where he had pulled away from, and Price smirked as the cockpit popped open and a jubilant Russian bounced up with a roar of triumph, big arms in the air.
Ghost stooped down to his bag and Price heard the tinkle of glass as he removed his ear defenders. Simon clutched four empty glasses in his big hands and jutted his chin at the Foxbat as he glanced down at Price. “Comin’?”
“Lead the way,” Price said, grunting as he rolled to his feet.
“Ey, where's the liquor?” Soap asked as he followed.
“Mechanics used t’ call this thing the Flyin’ Restaurant,” Price said. “The air-conditioning relies on evaporation of distilled water an’ about two hundred and forty litres of pure grain alcohol. She's still got some’uv the brew in her tank."
Soap’s nose wrinkled. “Ye hae tae be jokin’. Yer gonnae drink outta the feckin’ jet?”
“Abso-fockin’-lutely,” Simon said.
Nik greeted them with all the energy of an excited puppy, gesturing at the jet and spilling in and out of Russian and English like his brain was struggling to come down from the sky. His face lit up further when he spotted the glasses in Simon's hands, slapping the lieutenant on the shoulder with a surprised, booming laugh.
The air crew left them to it and Nik did the honours. It helped that the small bowsers used to refill the air-conditioning system had conveniently placed spigots to tap the Foxbat-shaped keg.
“Poyekhali!” Nik said before he knocked back his mouthful of Foxbat bloody moonshine. Soap choked and coughed on his, and Simon grunted in discomfort.
Price grinned, toasting his own. “Za zdorovye, comrade.” He took a deep breath before downing the lot. Oh it bloody burned.
#simon ghost riley#captain john price#cod nikolai#nikprice#nikghost#nikpriceghost#Poyekhali was said by Yuri Gagarin#considering nik feels like his head is in space it fits#also also sorry to be a nerd#belenko became an american citizen and had a kid btw#also the japanese sent his foxbat back in bits#the russians claimed there were bits missing and tried to bill the.#20mil for lost parts#in return the japanese sent a bill for the damage to their runway lmao
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Ruie, my dear, I was re-reading "The Dragon and The Dancer" and if you are still writing/accepting requests can I get a prequel(before the events of "laut ke ajana") where she dances for Daemon (with some nsfw) please?
ugh first of all, I hope your pillow is always cold, your charger cords never break and may you find money on the streets just for funsises.
second of all!!! Saaiyan Hatto Jao would be such a fitting song, of Dancer seducing Daemon so let’s go!
Daemon Targaryen x Martell!Wife!Reader
tw: exhibitionism? kinda misogynistic but bare with me pls 🤭 clit play, fivesome(kinda), breeding kink, humiliation, oral m and f receiving. mf(fff), mentions of underage stuff ekkk
main masterlist
In whatever capacity Daemon had within himself to restrain himself from his pretty wife was surely a bravery the Maesters ought to write in books. He had graced the courts of Lys multiple, multiple times. That's where he’d found Mysaria all those years ago. She was a whore, and dancer but a whore. He visited the city twice in his youth, in all his glory mounted open the ominous visage that was Caraxes yet not once was he esteemed enough to watch the infamous courtesans of Lys. Those women, wretched but entrancing women who invited the ones their hearts pleased, unlike any other establishment that would let in anyone with a coin to throw.
Imagine his surprise when an enticing swan from that very establishment had been under his nose this entire time, part of him cursed himself for not seeing it earlier. Something of such enchanting breeding couldn’t have simply come from the loins of Qoren Martell, and knowing your parentage was from Lys. If you weren’t already an insatiable spirit, Daemon pawed at your skirts even more now. He knew that the matter of you dancing was rather sensitive since your mother’s passing and he would never impose himself onto you otherwise.
Yet it couldn’t help taunt the perverse within him, such was the beauty of the Lysenees courtesans. To entice a man wild with just the melody of their voices and the ancient craft of their dance. Many a man with pockets deep enough to raise kingdoms lost their prospects at the doorsills of these bewitching girls.
You spoke of it at length with him once, sat in a warm bath overlooking the sunset, how esteemed of a pupil you were and come of age, your introductory performance had carriages lined for ten streets. Should the time have come, you might have even become the Madam of the establishment with age. The more you excelled in your art the more you feared of never leaving that place like your mother had wished for you. You not once loathed dancing, you hated the politics— you hated how wars began at the backs of courtesans partaking in spying against the very lords they once served to backstab and plot away at every chance they got for their survival. You rather missed the morning singing lessons and the sounds of your sister's anklets running up and down the halls.
“You keep such things from me,” Daemon muttered against your bare shoulder, peppering kisses up to your “You sing?”
You nodded, lifting your head to look at him with a sheepish smile.
It wouldn’t take a lunatic to envision your sweet voice singing away… singing just for him. He tried, he tried so very hard to not let his twitch cock at the thought of it, he was sure you felt it.
“What am I to do with you.” He groaned.
For a wish he had dreamt of since he was near seven and ten, no amount of gold named to the second Targaryen prince would get him inside that establishment, not after he had claimed Caraxes— a magnanimous beast that could burn all those witches in there all at once and not even after aiding the Free Cities with its odd brawls with one another.
And here the damned gods had blessed him with his wish, perched upon his lap. Eager to please him, vowed to obey and be with him till death do them part. Curious how the world worked.
You were no fool, like an animal in rut you had felt Daemon’s demeanour change since the day he discovered you were an untouched courtesan and caught you dancing in the Mirrored Palace alone. You were no stranger to the allure and aura that followed from being who you were, or who your performative personality is.
There is no harm done you thought, you had no joy in dancing for the men at court yet the sound of perhaps performing— truly performing for your lord husband seemed titillating.
It was the conditioning perhaps, to have a noble lord claim a courtesan all to himself, it showed one of two things. A lord with immensely fat pockets or a woman worth nearly a kingdom and its cavalry.
What were you worth? A fucking dragon-lord, a kingdom can’t be worth much if it’s ash. With your children most likely inheriting dragons too, you would by comparison must have outshone all your sisters back in Lys. Such fortune all for a pretty song and the swaying of one’s hips.
When Daemon had told you about is escapades in Essos, especially of how many times the poor prince had tried to gain an audience at your former court. You internally giggled at the picture of a young Daemon clamouring like the rest with gifts and praises to win the attention of your house Madam at the time. Even when he returned with a dragon he was barred, and it wasn’t unusual. Your Madam enjoyed playing with fire, toying with how far she could push men just to catch a glimpse of one of her girls.
Come to think of it, she might have been trying to grasp for an invitation to the Old King’s court, set up an establishment in King’s Landing. But one thing you’d learned from the stories Daemon told you about King’s Landing. Much of the courtesan's work would be polluted by the lack of affection for its craft.
You couldn't deprive him so, not when he paid you handsomely, ravishing your body each night like a silent prayer. Even having seen you, felt you and taught you things that would go beyond the means of a courtesan’s work. You saw the passion in his eyes when he’d find you fixing your ghungroos or humming under your breath as you worked on your needlepoint. The tests of a true Madam now laid at your feet, not only to devise an elaborate function for your dear husband but to be discreet and the most essential part of it all, for you to be perfection.
You’d pick the night of the coming full moon, you knew your father would have grumbled himself to his chambers rather early, the change in tides somehow always made him ill. Your sisters would all be abed, Daemon’s daughter’s too. The commendable part were your lady’s maids, pussyfooting away orders of flowers from Pentos, the special vials of rose oil from Qarth, at least a hundred candles to light up the arched viewpoint at the Watergardens. Daemon’s favourite foods to be prepared along with fine strong wines from the Old Palace cellars.
The intricacies of this function had been handled with such care and secrecy, that it made you consider moving into the manse your father had gifted you after your wedding for some privacy. Surely, a married— happily married couple engaging in salacious acts with one another shouldn't be unexpected. Lastly your lehenga, unlike the ones you usually wear, was truly a magnificent piece made by the dressmaker. A black velvet blouse with a dangerously low neckline and shoulder embroidered with dragons of red and gold threads, a lighter skirt of silk with heavy gold embroidery and embellishments and a chiffon embellished shawl that did nothing to hide your figure.
Another ruse was set up to hide your true schemes, a quaint supper with just you and Daemon being entertained by folk singers sent by Yi Ti.
The evening had been rather splendid, Daemon had no interest in listening to some fucks sing about in a tongue he understood not, but when his sweet wife insisted upon spending the evening together: he couldn't deny you.
He suspected that you were up to something, with supper being prepared, dishes lined up one after the other which were all those he shamelessly indulged in, the rather aged wine that you had been consuming a little too much of. He did not mind, either way, fucking his wife tonight sober or a sweet slobber mess— all was well in the world. After what seemed like a while, Daemon finally felt at ease, calm with a purpose that he belonged, with his daughters and you.
“Excuse me, dearest.” you whispered against his ear, smiling before pecking his cheek “I’ll be back.”
Daemon smiled back, watching you rise from the floored cushions that the both of you nested on, his eyes very shamelessly admiring your backside and the curves of your hips as you walked back into your quarters. He marvelled at the thought of ripping that very lovely maroon gown of your body. The colour change had been a sudden shock to him when you fluttered your way into the sparring wards in a Dornish gown painted in the dark crimson of his house’s colour. Rest assured the sparring continued later in the evening and the gown alas did not survive.
You had slipped out easily, just as the doors closed behind you, the lot of you bolted the opposite direction to your privy and down the hallways, skirts hiked up as you used your other hand to free your hair of the loose Westerosi braids they were in. Your maids ran with you, two of them already waiting by the Watergardens along with the the whore dancers you had acquired all outfitted in white and the esteemed musicians that played at every one of your events.
Hiding behind the thick shrubbery, your maids hastily stripped you off your gown and small clothes and replaced them with the ensemble made for tonight. You prayed to the gods while calming your breath from all that running, let it be perfect. The four girls would greet Daemon upon his arrival, even though they would be a finer treat than most men have had in this lifetime, you were another anthology entirely.
Daemon had been given his first clue after the Yi Ti performers had finally ended their never-ending song.
“The princess awaits you in the Watergardens, my prince.” the attendant had informed before scurrying away.
Whatever this was, Daemon was truly intrigued seemingly obeying his wife and heading straight out of the gardens without any delay. The show that greeted him there however had him taken aback for a moment, the garden pillars decorated in blossoms and twinkling candles scattered across the stairs leading to the arches. He could hear the mellow music and the serene sound of flute dancing along with the crashing waves.
Just like a dream come true, he was greeted by the sound of ghungroos— a sound he had grown accustomed to. Four girls rushed towards him, lifting their hands to their faces and bowing.
“Good evening, my prince.” one of them spoke.
“We have longed for your arrival, your grace.” said the other. Reaching forward for Daemon’s hand.
At any other time he might have pulled away, but this was surely orchestrated by his wayward wife. He could feel her around but couldn't see, and these girls— preening up at him like willing, wanting whores, they were no courtesans. He played along, letting them drag him along to the shore view where an elaborate arrangement awaited him. An old fire in him arose when his reputation had been so palpable at the many brothels across the Known World. Two of them pushed him onto the plush sete, giggling as one of them plops right next to him.
“Would you like some refreshments, my prince.” One of them said with a bunch of grapes in her hand, the other poured him a glass of wine. The third took her time feeling Daemon up, he thoroughly enjoyed this but longed for his wife— his courtesan. One of them began to unbutton the tops of his doublet, soft fingers trailing across his chest.
His sexual frustrations and anticipation began to pivot to a perverse ire, to find you hiding somewhere and reprimand you with your arse red for teasing him so.
That is when the sound of a heavier set of ghungroos echoed around the arches, there you were. Your glowing face against the moonlit sky and candles, you walked towards, body covered in a thick black shawl. The girls around him lifted their skirts and ran towards you, positioning themselves. Then came the music, a smirk so prominent settled itself on Daemon’s lips as his lifelong dream had now stood in fruition before him.
You seductively, inch by inch let the black shawl drop until it fell to the ground, looking at the shawl and suggestively looking up at your husband. You twirled thrice forward, ending right by Daemon’s legs and lowered yourself. He knew not of what you sang but it was as though a witch chanted spells to bind him to you.
The song you sang was one of innocence, a sweet girl begging her lover to let her return home— for the higher the moon rose in the sky her reputation hung by a thread. Ever so seductively telling him to stay away because she knew his true desires were so very impure.
Stay away my love, I know what you desire
You reached for the rose tucked in your blouse, reaching lower to gesture at your ghungroos, giving Daemona a rather exposed view of your bosom. You acted as if his looking had offended you and flicked the rose at him, you stood to continue your routine still singing without a note or beat missed. You knew within that you were perfection, it is what you were trained for from birth. This one performance should have costed half of Pentos, but look upon Daemon’s eyes was payment enough for you.
Night fades to dawn my love, please let me go home
You pulled your shawl of your head and down you your shoulder, toying with it around your cleavage. Eyebrows suggestively scrunched at Daemon, making him kiss the rose you gave him and throw it back at you which you caught with ease, letting the petal graze upon your cheek and then your lips lowering it further down the sides of your torso and tucking it this time at the lining of your skirt. You turn your back towards him swaying you hips as you walked away, turning once to wink at him and continuing to walk until the hardest part of the number began.
The percussion beats could never be missed by your feet, in a performative haze you smiled at the three dancers who also did an extraordinary job at keeping up with you. You turned one last time.
My mother and sister by law shall poke, where had I been, my love. I will die of embarrassment
You walked towards him this time, an exaggerated sway in your hip as you pulled your shawl out from your skirt lining and let it fall to the floor, you turned once more, performatively reaching for the back strings of your blouse and pulling them to mimic a sensual morning stretch. You turned towards your husband who had settled himself further into the cushion.
You kept singing as he reached his hand out, you took it letting him pull you onto his lap. Your soft finger held his face as you kept singing, leading his face towards your neck and he wasted no time in peppering kisses down your collarbone. You pushed him back there after which startled him, you could feel the hardened mound under his breeches— your payment.
Stay away my love, I know of what you desire.
Daemon had enough, still letting you finish your song, your eyes and eyebrows still expressing away your performative feelings as he reached for your Nath and removed it, a significant indication of deflowering a young courtesan.
Your song ended as you sat straddled upon Daemon’s lap, you gaze never left his— like you were another person entirely. Daemon relished in how he intimidated you, how shy and small you were around him, how receptive but innocent you remained even when he taught you to pleasure him and yourself in bed. Yet this woman sat atop him, you were someone else.
“Was it everything you ever dreamed of, my prince.” Your whispered, your hands caressing his face.
Daemon for a moment couldn’t find his words, that’s when you snapped from your performance growing anxious from the silence. You were about to pull away when Daemon abruptly spun you down onto the cushion so he lay towering over you, caging you under his broad build.
“How am I to pay you, my lady,” he said, wanting to rip the clothing off your body but he looked behind to still see the four girls standing.
“They are yours tonight my prince,” you nervously, your aura slipping back to the former “As am I.”
At that Daemon held no restraint and laid siege upon your body, he figured the lasses could still dance as Daemon would take you apart under the moonlit sky.
You held nothing back, arching your back onto the onslaught of Daemon’s lips. Letting your fingers feel the remaining buttons of his doublet and pushing them off his shoulder. This time you pushed back, the heat on your cheeks so apparent for you’d never thought to be so forthcoming in bed before, Daemon always held the reins, placing you in positions he liked, teaching you ways to pleasure yourself.
Daemon grunted for a moment, fighting against the push of your hands before giving in, letting you lay him back down once more. You straddled him once more, this time slipping back into the seductive performance you’d laid out for him. Smiling down at him as you slipped your blouse off, slowly— inch by inch before dropping it next to you.
Daemon’s lips parted in a gasp, though his cockiness would credit his lessons for confidence in this matter. He was further crazed by how much you appeared to be enjoying doing this. He couldn't help himself, reaching up to tweak at your left nipple. You began to roll your hips against the hardening of his breeches, your bare cunt under your skirt pressed at the girth giving you just a small burst of pleasure.
You did Daemon of his tunic, your fingers tracing his battle scars as you reached lower, letting your lips press against his warm skin— letting yourself inch lower and lower as you shuffled off him.
You both yearned greatly for one another, nearly four moons into your marriage and the passions you shared for one another only seemed to reach further heights with each passing day. A fire that Daemon had lit within you burned so bright for him every day. One might think you were born to be with him, obey him.
Daemon watched as you undid his pants, pulling them down his legs and not once leaving his eyes, you were an ethereal sight, bare-chested with his gifted jewels shining at your neck— so prepared to service him. You reached for his cock and that's when he stopped you.
His hands trailed to your head of wild hair, gently tugging at it. “You want my cock?” he said. Eyes wild and waiting for your response.
You meekly nodded, sticking your tongue out just as he taught you to. Wasting no time further he pushes your mouth onto his cock, letting your head bob and suction at his length. You worked your tongue around his cock, the taste of him so familiar in your mouth. You whimper as he pushes in further breaching the back of your mouth and making your eyes water.
“Who would have thought it hmm, the finest girl Lys could offer kneeled like a whore for me” his words falsely degrading you sending shockwaves straight to you your core.
You whimper, this time willingly taking him deeper feeling your throat want to constrict as you pull up for air— he however stops you briefly before giving you relief. A string of salvia lingering on your lips. He wiped at the tears polling around the corner of your eyes.
“Take the rest of it off girl,” he demanded, eyes ravenous and impatient.
You gathered your bearing before standing once more, pulling at the waist string of your skirts with no haste to tease him yet again. You let your skirt fall as you caught onto the rose still tucked at your waistline. You kissed it and threw it at him. Every look, every action towards you seemed to have been pooling your cunt wet.
Daemon grunted, yanking you back onto him. His lips smacked against yours once more as he took a harsh hold of your tit with one hand while the other held you here. His actions were voracious, seducing your soul rather than your body.
You took matters into your own hands, unable to keep up with this game any longer and reached for his cock— gently rubbing the tip at you folds before lowering yourself onto him.
Daemon groaned into your mouth as you gasped, having never felt him so deep, you held onto his shoulder fingernails digging in.
“You're so deep,” you whispered, your breath hitching as you adjusted to the intrusion.
His fingers dug into the flesh of your arse pulling you further down and full of him. You felt so close, so one with him. You began to grind your hip, your neck cranked as Daemon’s head dipped lower to kiss your shoulders and up your neck.
“Such a fine prize aren't you, tell me how do I pay you?” he said bucking his hips up into you making you sqwak.
“D-dragonseed… I want your babes.” you whispered, head hanging in a wanting shame.
Daemon smirked, he had forever hoped to make you swell of his children but he never knew your sweet mind craved to be bred.
“Go on then, take what you want.” he rested back on to his elbows, bucking his hips once more to coerce you to keep going.
You rested a hand on his torso using it as leverage to lift your hips to bounce into his cock. Your snug cunt milking him to fill you. Your smaller legs weren't enough to lift you that far off his cock, but you tried nonetheless. Daemon reached for your cunny, his thumb began to rub circles onto your clit sending you into a frenzy— riding him with far more determination.
It felt good, so very good.
“How does it feel darling? How does it feel riding a dragon.”
You let out a strained giggle at that, still unable to help your childish mind. You kept riding him, Daemon’s lips restraining a smile too at your ill-timed humour. Earning you a sharp smack on your left tit.
“It feels so good, so deep.”
Your hips found a steady rhythm against Daemon’s fingers at your bundle of nerves. Your each bounce ore eager than the one before. Your tits bobbing and calling for equal attention from Daemon.
“My prince!”
You moaned, feeling that pinnacle ever so close as you chased it.
“I’m all yours,” you said unprovoked “a courtesan trained just for you.”
Daemon nearly lost his bearings at that, pinching your nipple harder. Seven Hells— he knew you were made just for him.
“Say it again.”
“I was born to be your c- courtesan.” you cried, feeling so very close to completion.
Your thighs begin to shudder, he can feel them clenching— he lets go of your breast and grabs your hips in aid to feel you gush around him. A sudden pitched cry leaves your mouth as you tremble your bouncing coming to a halt as you fight to hold yourself up but Daemon’s fingers on your bundle of nerves don't stop.
He abruptly flips you over, readjusting you within a blink of an eye. Your bare body facing the dancers as Daemon’s solid wet-length rested on the curve of your ass.
“We could get your money’s worth,” he suggested nipping at your ear lobe, his demeanour shifted to the one of you loving husband. “We needn't—”
“I trust you.” you looked up at him, chest still heaving from your peak before and yet you always wanted more of him, more of his depravities.
So many fantasies, much to do.
He gestured them forward knowing they would take much time to shed their clothes, they were whores trained to dance.
All three of of them vulgarly bowed, giggling amongst themselves.
“My prince.” The chorus of their voice followed as they began their performance to reach for him.
He tutted— he’d die happy if he died tonight.
“Not me, her.” He ordered.
You looked back up at him, a curious flare in your eyes that was met with his top protruding at your sloppy opening once more.
The girls entirely shifted their attention onto you.
“Mhmm you have such lovely tits princess.”
“Such soft skin.”
“Such a fine figure, your grace.”
Daemon pushed into you once more, groaning and resting his head onto your shoulder. His palm curled around you neck pulling your back against his shoulder. He knew of the explosive pleasure you were about to discover, even more joy was that he would be the one giving it to you, a fine reward for my girl, the fruits of the lovely exhibition you'd put on for him.
He began fucking into you, small grunts and exhales lingered by your ear and what followed from there on had your mind scattered.
One whore settled on suckling your nipples, twisting and toying with the other. One muffled your moans with her lips upon yours. Your cunny was already sensitive but then you felt a sensation you never had before. The third girl kneeled by the nest and began to lick your bud.
“D— Daemon!”
The sensation so overwhelming you began to pull away, Daemon curled other arm firm around your torso to keep you in place as he continued rut into you.
“Feels good doesn’t it, my love?”
You could barely speak but you nodded, eyes shut feeling yourself so lost in every touch. One of the whores disappeared behind you, settling herself under Daemon to service his heavy stones.
He watched as the whores played with your tits, he too reach further up to tweak a pebble harshly between his fingers. You gasped at the burn of pain. The whore sucking at your teat came to your defence.
“Gentle my prince, breaking a thing so pretty isn’t fair”
“Not this one, her cunt is squelching around me.” he groans.
“Its true!” the girl by your cunt giggles.
Your cheeks burned in shame, they spoke of you like you weren't around. The whore licking your bud pushed at your folds to leave it exposed as she suckled and licked and rubbed away. Daemon’s cock fucked you raw from within and you felt it once more, hurtling towards.
“Go on, wet my cock my love.” he grunted fucking you harder.
His peak chased after as you broke first, gushing around his cock as you screamed his name. Legs and arms shuddering as Daemon grunted to completion himself, ropes of his spent coated your walls. You could feel the warmth within, nearly forfeited by your sensations. He held your body so close, recovering himself as he shooed the whores away.
Letting you collapse in the nest first and then himself. Laying soft kisses at your shoulder, still firmly holding your hand to ground you.
“Well done, my love.”
You lazily smiled at him, dazed in euphoria as you rubbed your feet against his calves.
“What have I done for fortune.” He whispered against your temple.
You shrugged at him, leaning forward to kiss him once more. “I hope you are pleased with my performance?”
Daemon shook his head, begging mesmerized by you. He let his hand rest at your belly.
“If giving you all this love,” he kissed your cheek. “My dragonseed,” he pressed onto you belly. “Isn’t indication of how very pleased I am sweet girl.”
Then you heard a high pitched squeal from the skies, clicks and then the rustle of trees around you. “Then perhaps I should show you what being a dragon feels like.”
Caraxes burst through the horizon behind your circling the skies as he lowered himself onto the white beach. You looked at Daemon puzzled, as he pulled you up to dress you.
“What are you doing?” You huffed putting your blouse back on.
“You want to have my children, it might be time that you grew accustomed to Caraxes.”
You kept dressing yourself to mask the fear that was coursing through your veins. I dance for him and he plans to kill me. You could barely muster the courage to be even ten feet around Moondancer and that beast was a babe. Caraxes is a behemoth, he protects your husband— he told you how the two of them were two halves of whole. It never made sense to you.
“Don’t be scared, halves of a whole remember?” he said as he bent down to lift you up by you back and legs once you finished dressing.
You’d rid yourself of your ghungroos just to not startle the beast.
“I love you, care for you. Therefore he does too.”
You weren’t sure about how sure he was about said theory. Yet you let him carry you to the beaches below where Caraxes sat waiting, when you saw him it almost appeared as though he was playing with sand. Shaking his snout it the sand to bury it and then exhaling to have sand fly everywhere, followed by loud clicks.
“Is he— is he playing?” You asked your husband.
“Told you, he’s harmless.”
That beast also burned dozens of Dornish men but alright.
Just as Caraxes felt Daemon’s presence he chirped up even more, his long neck swaying in the wind. However it only took a moment for his demeanour to flip when he realized there was another. You froze in Daemon’s arms at the low grumble Caraxes let out.
“Dohaeras Caraxes!” Daemon lowly warned the beast.
Caraxes still look unsure but Daemon kept walking.
He put you down a few feet from the beast, don’t run— don’t run. You watched as Daemon walked towards Caraxes without a care in the world that his wife might get fried tonight.
“Konir sagon ñuha ābrazȳrys, ao gīmigon zirȳla syt izula hūra, keligon issare quba.” That is my wife, you have know about her for four moons. I told you.
Daemon sounded like he was scolding the dragon.
He turned to you “Come my love.”
You obeyed, talking small steps towards him. Towards his outstretched hand. Everything would be fine, you trusted him. Entirely— wholeheartedly, with your life.
Just until Caraxes turned his long neck and his snout just with a feet from you. You froze entirely once more, Daemon still petting Caraxes.
“Dohaeras,” he whispered, almost as if he spoke to a child.
Caraxes’s big nostrils flared, sniffing you a couple of time before chirping. Daemon chuckled, you relaxed for a moment until Caraxes gently used his snout to trip you backwards before once more burying his snout in the sand and deeply exhaling, burying you in a thick sheet of sand. Daemon couldn’t help but break into a fit of laughter
“Daemon!”
You were going to great friends he knew it.
eeee I had so much fun writing this. I totally imagine Caraxes kinda being like jealous Lilly from modern family lol
#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd smut#daemon targaryen smut#daemon fanfic#daemon smut#daemon fic#daemon au#houseofthedragon#house martell#house targaryen#desi hotd#desi!reader#desi writers#desiblr#desi tumblr#desi reader x daemon
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ♡ 𝓒hapter 𝓕ourteen
꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱
⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀summary.⠀while you’re still conflicted about the baby, miguel comes back with much fear and regret but he wasn’t expecting to have company awaiting him home and it isn’t you.
⠀ ᰦ 󠄀 ྀ .⠀♥︎⠀content.⠀angst, pregnancy, emotional distress, arguments, swearing, one face slap (miguel receiving and he deserves it), past character death, mainly miguel’s pov
❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜
he… just panicked…
his heart stopped beating the moment “pregnant” was mentioned out loud, his heart stopped. his breathing suddenly stopped as everything became silent and blurry to him. miguel only sat there with tons of emotions throw at him like bombs.
disbelief, anger, sorrow, pain, distress, panic.
all those emotions bubbling inside him all at once. miguel just couldn’t believe it, as if that was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.
a baby?
he’s gonna have a baby?
he’s gonna become a father?
that… that can’t be true… he can’t be a father. it was impossible to be a father and have a child, not with his line of work. miguel didn’t even think of the possibility of having children, if it was in the books for him. he was too focused on duty and with gabriel’s death, it was never considered.
how could he be a father if he failed to protect his little brother? what if he fails to protect you and the baby just like he failed to protect gabriel?
miguel, still to this day, carries the guilty in his shoulders of his brother’s death. forever carries the responsibility for causing his demise. he had one job to protect his brother yet ultimately failed.
if he failed his brother, what are the chances of failing the baby, failing you?
miguel couldn’t lose more people he cared about.
he was so scared.
so scared that he didn’t hear you talking to him after revealing your pregnancy. your voice fell deaf upon his ears and vision too blurry to see you. miguel could only hear the rapid beating of his heart, pounding in his chest. he was panicking internally, unable to speak or hear. only sat there with multiple emotions invading his fragile mind, like an internal war.
the fear won the war.
his body went autopilot, functioning like a machine as he rose from your couch and started walking towards the front door. his ears blocking your soft sobs of his name as miguel reached for the door.
he simply left… carrying the fear inside him like a beast eating his heart like a served meal.
miguel left you alone with a broken heart and he didn’t even realize how hurtful his actions were.
the fear consumed completely that he didn’t go back to his apartment. instead, his autopilot body guided him to the parking garage where his bike was. he didn’t get on right away, miguel stood there in silence for a moment. until his body moved, got on the bike and simply took off in silence.
he never went back.
instead he just drove off.
drove and drove until the sun was slowly rising and the sky was turning blue. he arrived at the secret tiny cabin he owned in the outskirts of the city. in the middle of a small forest, hidden from the public eye. it was a place of escapism, a place where miguel would seek for escape from reality. he visited often and mostly stayed right after gabriel’s passing. no one knew of it, he didn’t want anyone to know.
his phone was completely turned off. all the texts and calls from you and others were left in the void, forever unanswered. miguel was in too deep, too lost in fear to do anything. the entire time he was staying in the cabin, the man barely slept.
the nightmares returned, full of pain and terror. the second his eyelids would close, flashbacks of gabriel’s fearful eyes and tears haunted him. those tears of fear and pain trailing down gabriel’s face as his body was slowly giving out in the arms of his older brother. whispering words of reassurance, telling miguel that it isn’t his fault and it’s okay before letting out his final breath.
then, the nightmares were about you and the baby. you holding a tiny bundle of joy that’s a combination of you and him. their tiny arms reaching out for him, you smiling at both of them. before suddenly you both vanish in thin air, leaving miguel panicking then suddenly transferred in the battlefield with a broken heart, a fragile mind and tears in his eyes. although, miguel did experience those three exact things every time he woke up heavily gasping for air.
majority of the nightmares were him dying in combat, leaving you alone as a single mom, leaving the baby without a father. those were the worst nightmares of them all because it was possible.
what if he dies in combat?
what if he never came back home?
you would be alone and the baby would have no father. he would’ve already failed you both and miguel couldn’t allow that to happen.
he was scared… he was so scared…
he couldn’t fail again.
yet little did miguel know that he has already failed you both, leaving you alone to deal with this mess. the fear consumed him too much to the point that miguel failed to recognize what he has done. spent too much time in that cabin just allowing fear and guilt to consume him entirely that he didn’t realize exactly how long he’s been gone. didn’t realize that he straight up abandoned you.
which is why he’s returning home after 3 weeks.
3 weeks of no contact, completely cut off communication from the world.
3 weeks of fear and guilt consuming his mind.
3 weeks of sleep deprivation.
3 weeks of leaving you alone and heartbroken.
now the bastard has finally return to finally face the reality of the situation. however, miguel wasn’t prepared to face the consequences of his actions.
he was scared- no, terrified to come back home and see you after 3 weeks of abandonment and no communication. miguel knew you weren’t going to greet him with a smile and hug. he knew you were beyond pissed at him and have absolutely every right to be yet miguel was still terrified.
he did the every thing he swore to never do: hurt you.
miguel hated himself more than ever. he hurt you in so many ways. abandoned you when you needed him most. ghosted you, left all your calls and texts unanswered. when he finally unlocked his phone, not surprised by the hundreds of missed calls and texts not only from you but from others as well like peter and his mother, miguel’s heart dropped at the text you sent about your OB-GYN appointment.
he missed it and you went alone.
the guilt hit him harder than being struck by a train. miguel fell down to his knees and cried. tears of guilt and shame trail down his face.
miguel knew he should’ve been there with you. waiting with you in the lobby, his hand holding yours because he knew you were anxious. sitting beside you still holding your hand throughout the examination like he should have. but his stupid ass was stuck in this tiny cabin like a fucking coward while you had to experience it alone.
you fucking coward.
look at what you’ve done.
what is wrong with you?!
you hurt her and she hates you.
all those thoughts repeat in his mind and miguel deserves it every bit. but those negative thoughts couldn’t prevent him from going back. he had to go back to you. no matter how much he was afraid.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈
with guilt and shame heavily resting on his shoulders, miguel stands in front of your apartment door. blood rushing through his veins, fingers fidgeting at his sides, and palms sweaty due to anxiety. mind plagued with numerous scenarios of what will happen the moment that door opens.
a harsh slap to the face, leaving a reddish mark on his cheek. words of anger and frustration yelled in his face. punches to the chest out of anger. slamming the door on him with harsh force.
he thinks he’s prepared for all that but truthfully he isn’t. miguel was ultimately afraid to face you.
with a deep breath and raising a shaky fist, miguel leaves a simply yet light knock on the door. anxiety increases immediately as he anticipates your arrival. heart pounding more than ever. on the verge of swearing like a pig. in simple terms, scared shitless.
but the door never opens, you never appear. miguel’s brows furrowed after waiting for a few minutes then knocks again. 15 minutes later, still no answer.
you’re not home.
miguel is about to knock again until he hears a door opening behind him. turning around, he sees his neighbor mrs. harrington leaving her apartment. he watches her eyes widen in surprised at his presence.
“oh miguel, dear. you’re back.” she greets him with that classic smile she always gives to everyone. probably the only kindest he’d received today.
he mirrors her smile. “yes, nice to see you again, mrs. harrington. sorry to bother you but uh- have you seen her lately?” his thumb gestures at your apartment, referring to you.
“no dear, i believe she’s at work but i’m sure you’ll see her when she gets off.”
oh fuck- that’s right, you’re working today. now the anticipation is even more worse.
“right, i forgot…” he mostly mutters to himself, disappointed that he forgot such a thing.
the elderly woman offers him a sympathetic smile. “well, i must be going i have to- oh! i almost forgot! there was a woman who came by earlier and is waiting for you in your apartment. i never seen her before but she said she knows you.”
miguel’s brows furrowed once again, this time in confusion. a woman is waiting inside his own apartment? who the hell would that be? no one has a key to his place. now, he’s a bit concerned.
“did she say her name?” he inquires.
she shakes her head. “no but i assume she’s family.”
family? now who could it possibly be?
“now i must go, dear! i don’t want to miss the bus!” mrs. harrington wave goodbye, leaving a confused miguel standing in the hallway.
slowly approaching his apartment, miguel hesitates and thinks for a moment. who could possibly have inside waiting for him? what family member could it be? like mentioned before, no one has a spare key to his place. taking a shaky breath, miguel slowly unlocks and opens the door.
for a second, he believes it’s you. waiting for his return to unleash all your anger and frustration. possibly standing at the entrance or sitting at the dining dining table or the sofa.
instead, it was the other woman he’s afraid of.
“mamá?”
sitting right there at the dining table is conchata o’hara. narrowed eyes staring daggers into his fearful ones and arms crossed her chest. if looks could kill, miguel would be way beyond six feet under. probably not even buried, enduring a far more horrific death.
oh he was fucked.
his lips part open to speak but she beats him to it.
“¿a dónde fuiste?”
oh she sounds pissed the fuck off and it causes an unpleasant shiver down miguel’s spine. his adam’s apple bobbed as he gulps nervously.
“perdón, mamá… i didn’t mean—”
“contéstame.” stern and straightforward.
his fists clenched at his sides as he inhaled a shaky breath. “i… i went out of town…” her cold hard stare urged him to elaborate. “i have this cabin… in the outskirts, no one knows about. mamá, perdón—”
her raised up right hand silences him before pinching the bridge of her nose, sighing frustratingly. “¿porque tengo un hijo tan pendejo?”
miguel winces at that.
“3 weeks without communication, 3 weeks without knowing where you were and if you were okay…” she slowly lowers her hand, staring him down. “3 weeks, miguel… ¡¿estas menso?!” she shouts.
oh here it comes.
“what the hell were you thinking?! leaving without saying anything?!” pure fury in her tone, ringing his ears. “leaving that poor girl behind?!”
miguel’s eyes widen when she mentioned you. how does she know you? you never met conchata. miguel didn’t want you to meet his family because of the situation between him and his mother. it was chaotic enough and he didn’t want put you in that.
“how do you know—”
a loud smack! echos the room as her hand comes in harsh contact with his cheek, leaving a reddish mark.
“cállete.” conchata scowls as she stands up from her seat, not sparing miguel a chance. “you got a girl pregnant and you left her?!”
he winced once again. “lo siento, i was—”
“no, no, no, no empieces.” she raises a finger, silencing him once again. “i taught and raised you better. raised you to be a good man. raised you to be a responsible human being. but this, miguel?!” she gestures at her son. “¡es un dismadre!”
miguel only stood there with guilt and shame illustrated on his face, as if he was a sad puppy being reprimanded for misbehaving. technically he was but puppies are much cuter, he wasn’t in this moment, not with his idiotic behavior lately. he deserves every once of anger from his mother, he knows that.
“how could you do this?! do this to her?!” conchata exclaims. “you left that poor girl to deal with this alone for 3 weeks! do you have any idea the damage you caused with your idiotic behavior?!”
miguel nods, shamefully. “yes and i know i need to fix this. lo prometo, mamá i will—”
“no.” she raises that finger again to silence him. “no more pinches promesas! you broke the biggest one the minute you left that girl. not only her but the baby tambien, tu bebé.” she emphasized the last part and miguel’s eyes widen in surprise.
his baby.
the baby you’re carrying.
the baby he abandoned.
he feels tears slowly prickling in his eyes at the thought. miguel looks away to blink them away, guilt washing coursing though his body like a tsunami.
conchata takes a deep breath to calm herself, containing the fury bubbling inside. “what you did is unacceptable, irresponsible.”
miguel only nods silently, still looking away to conceal the tears, acknowledging his mistake.
“i’ve had enough con tus mamadas, miguel.” the woman sighs heavily. “i was wrong for blaming you for gabriel because i knew it wasn’t your fault.”
this causes miguel to meet her gaze, slightly confused and surprised at the topic change.
“but this? this is unacceptable, miguel and i won’t forgive you until she forgives you. but i highly doubt she will and i do not blame her one bit.”
he doesn’t blame you either. he broke your heart and trust at once, how could you forgive him? he left you alone for 3 weeks with this life-changing situation.
she takes another deep breath and rests a hand on her hip. “now i don’t know if she’ll keep it or not, but regardless of her decision, i’ll support her.” she states firmly. “if she decides to keep it, i will support her and my grandchild, be there for them unlike you.”
that was a low bow but deservingly so.
“how do you know?” he asks meekly.
“peter.”
shit, you must’ve told him and mj. now you’re not the only person who wants him dead. a pack of wolves are tracking his scent and hunting him down.
his shoulders slouch as he exhales a shaky breath. “i was afraid , mamá… i was afraid that i would fail her, both of them… just like gabriel and i…” he chokes back a soft sob. “lo siento mucho… i was afraid…”
“i’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
miguel nods in agreement. you’re the one he should be apologizing to and explain everything because you deserve it. get down on his knees and mumble an infinite amount of apologies.
“i understand you’re afraid but that doesn’t justify your actions and the way you hurt her indefinitely.”
“i know.” miguel nods immediately.
“then don’t expect forgiveness immediately.”
he knows that, no matter how much he hates it.
“like i mentioned before, i won’t forgive you until she forgives you.” conchata states firmly and he nods.
she goes to grab her purse and heads straight for the door, walking past him. stopping in front of the door, conchata turns to look at her son one last time.
“i’ll only say this once and you better listen.” she glares at miguel. “get your shit together.”
he gulps anxiously, agreeing internally.
“until she forgives you, you’re no longer welcome at my home.” pure sternness in her tone, causing a shiver down miguel’s spine. “she is, and the baby if she decides to keep it, but you aren’t.”
miguel did not blame his mother for coming to a decision. he deserves it for his despicable actions and you deserve all the support you need. you deserve a home where you feel loved and supported. the two things he failed to provide.
he could only answer with a simple nod. giving him once last glance, conchata leaves without saying another word. the tension left the room with her, causing miguel to finally exhale the breath he didn’t know he was holding for so long. now left alone to deal with what’s about to come next.
if he doesn’t get his shit together, miguel will lose you, and possibly the baby, forever.
⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ ┈ ₊ ୧ ┈
since conchata left, miguel had been thinking of what words to say while anxiously waiting for you to come home from work. his mind was like a fucking circus, pure chaos and paranoia due to the fear of what will eventually happen. sitting there at the table internally freaking out. anxiety off the charts, flowing feverishly through his veins like a virus. one leg bouncing due to that invasion of anxiety.
no matter how many scenarios or thoughts his mind bundles up, it doesn’t seem enough. no words could cure the immense pain and suffering he caused you. it stabs miguel right through the heart painfully. he knows he fucked yet still scared shitless.
miguel has no fucking clue what you’ve been through in these last three weeks. how you dealt with this mess he left behind because he was a fucking coward. how many times you cried because of him. how many times you screamed in fury because of him. how many times you thought of killing him.
looking at his phone’s lockscreen, it is 4:30 pm. that’s the time you get off from work.
exhaling a shaky breath, miguel mentally prepares himself for the inevitable as he exits his apartment and heads down to the parking garage to wait for your arrival home. this is the moment and he can’t back out now, no way in hell he would ever. no matter how afraid he is, he has to do this.
as he makes it to the parking garage, miguel waits by the door. after about 15 minutes, his anxiety peaks once again as he noticed your car entering. those brown eyes follow the vehicle as you park in your designated spot. suddenly his breathing grows heavier as miguel sees your small silhouette exit the car. there you are, beautiful as always.
realization heavily kicks miguel in the balls about how he hasn’t seen you in three weeks. three weeks since he last saw your ethereal presence. three weeks since he heard your angelic voice. three weeks since he saw your gorgeous smile. three weeks since he last felt your touch. three weeks since he last felt your celestial skin. three weeks of hell without you.
he feels like he could cry right now. just seeing you in the flesh after three weeks breaks miguel’s heart because you’ve been alone this entire time.
it kills him to think that.
miguel was too lost in those sad, depressing thoughts to realize you standing there in front of him. those brown eyes shift towards your stiff frame, noticing your wide eyes of pure shock. you look like as if you’re experiencing a heart attack.
those piercing eyes of fury and hurt murders him on the spot. miguel can see the hurt in those forgives eyes. those same eyes that used to be filled with love every time they met his own. but there was no ounce of love left in them, only fury and hurt. your eyes are like that because of him. those same eyes that shed infinite amounts of tears because of him.
seeing your eyes filled with such hurt and fury makes miguel feel immensely guilty than he already was because he finally sees it. he finally sees the pain he causes you through those gorgeous eyes he adores so dearly. it shatters his already broken heart.
he wants to fall down to his knees, hug you so badly, break down into tears, and say a million sorrys.
but a million sorrys won’t fix everything.
right now miguel has to face the situation. he can’t hide in the shadows forever. he can’t hurt you anymore. he needs to face the consequences.
he has to conquer his fears.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )
© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡
#⠀꒰⠀𝜗𝜚 ֺ 𓂂⠀꒱⠀﹕⠀ℬ𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝒪𝑓 𝒯ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℳ𝑒𝑠𝑠⠀.ᐟ⠀#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#military!miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara angst#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara smut#across the spiderverse
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What is your favourite hinny fict of all time?
ooh this is a great question!!! several come to mind, because there are some really incredible writers out there who i think capture harry and ginny perfectly in their writing. and i can’t pick one so here goes:
Orchards by @whinlatter
this oneshot is incredible, building up hinny’s relationship over the summer that we see so little of in the books. it’s just so in character, funny and beautiful. you really see their easy dynamic and how perfect they are for each other. i’ve reread it several times and i will do it again it’s THAT good. also her other work Beasts about post-dh ginny and everything that follows the war with lots of flashbacks and added details. it’s really honest and gritty portrayal of grief & recovering from the trauma of a war
The Path From You by @takeariskao3
i am obsessed with this fic. it’s wonderful bc it has all the canon elements but it’s set a few years after the war, and the main plot is completely fresh and new. it’s like a harry x ginny second chance romance, harry is super protective and they’re both like still so in love with each other it’s ughhh *chefs kiss*! it’s so well-written too. i LOVE it.
quick-fire and warm front by @jiilys
these are two oneshots that i think perfectly capture hinny’s relationship after the war. the writing is just beautiful.
Come Stay for The Summer by @ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey
this is such a fun and hilarious text-fic. i’m such a fan of hinny in a different universe, like regular high school / soccer fics. just another fun exploration of their relationship. also basically any of the oneshots by this author are so good.
Bewitched by @starlingflight (apologies for tagging the wrong author!!!)
i loved this fic so much. such an orignal concept — it’s mainly a non-magical storyline but with a twist. loved the characterisations and the non-linear format. so cute and fun and the ending is perfect.! also this author has lots of other wonderful works.
FloreatCastellum on ao3 is also wonderful - their missing moments works are so on point.
i also might take this opportunity to self-rec my fic too (lmao sorry) which is-
but i’m a fire, and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm by me hehe
it’s a fic about the beginning and blossoming friendship of harry & ginny during order of the phoenix. basically missing moments and build up to explore how and why these two eventually end up together !
but i am always looking for more fics to read so pls give me recs!!<3
#harry x ginny#harry potter#ginny weasley#hinny#hp#book ginny#ginevra molly weasley#ron weasley#hinny fic#hermione granger#hinny drabbles#hinny microfic#hinny fic rec#my asks
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Hii! Can I request a Kakashixreaderxobito fic where the reader is helping Obito “re enter” society and they basically become best friends( but Kakashi starts to feel weird about it because he actually fell for the reader too (but refuses to accept love because duh) ya know, some angst to get through the week 🕺 I hope that makes sense hahaha thank youuu so much! 🫶
Requests are open! (Request rules)
Part. 1, Part. 2
A/N: This is one of my longest works I’ve ever made tee hee. I really hope you enjoy!! (Sorry it seems a little rushed :( )
Summary: Obito, after surviving the war was allowed back into the village. You made it your mission to make sure he gets completely rehabilitated. However, a certain someone gets jealous at the loss of attention.
Pairing: Obito x reader x kakashi
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
It was a process. Everything that came after the war was a process. Great ninjas were lost, and some were found. Heartbreaks and heartwarmths were felt by all the people who were affected by this dreadful event. However, they sought to move forward, and push the formidable thoughts away. Because there was no time for regret, but only determination to bring back the villages—the families that were caught in the hellfire.
You had thankfully survived the war right along with some of your comrades. You had lost some to the Ten Tailed beast, but you knew the only way to honor their lives was to remember them for the outstanding ninjas they were. They had fought their final battle alongside you, and it was time for them to rest as the brave heroes they were. Your heart had been shattered by everything that had occurred—the deaths and the revelations. The revelation of the man who seemed like the spitting image of a boy you once knew. A kind, sweet boy that strived to become the Hokage. A boy with dreams so big, he’d do anything to achieve them. Obito Uchiha.
It shattered you to see who he had become, and why he had become this new person. It hurt how he didn’t think of himself as Obito Uchiha, but as someone else. He lived as someone else. It broke you a little, because you couldn’t wrap your head around this. How could this man—the boy you once admired when you were both at the academy—become so heartless. You couldn’t understand it. However, as if the universe was trying to put the pieces back in place, Obito had a change of heart. You thank Naruto for this—you didn’t know how the boy did it, but he always managed to get into people’s hearts. And just like Sasuke, Obito was welcomed—with very hesitant open arms, back into the leaf village.
Of course, this wasn’t an easy process. There were still people who didn’t trust him, and wanted nothing to do with him. It was a hard decision to make, but everyone deserves a second chance. So, the decision was made. He would be welcomed back to the village on the conditions of having someone watch him at all times—or as they called it—being under supervision. This was, to Obito, reasonable. He had been one of the main causes of the war, so the least he could do was accept this with a good heart. The difficult part was searching for someone who would actually agree to watch him. They needed a strong ninja. One that could put Obito in his place if he ever did anything remotely threatening. They thought Kakashi would’ve been the perfect candidate, but he was now the Hokage.
However, they never expected you to volunteer. You were a great ninja. Strong, smart, truthful. You were fit for the job, sure, but they were hesitant to just let you supervise him. But, after some convincing, you were allowed to take Obito under your wing, and trust me, it was a hard process. This man had been socially secluded. He was hated by most of the villagers, and he could see it. Anytime he walked down the roads of Konoha, the people would glare and snarl at him. He was a monster to them, and he knew that. He was difficult to crack open. I mean, did you really expect him to be just like he was when he was a kid? Of course not, you knew better than that.
You would always notice how his eyes landed on the ground, and he walked with his head low. You also knew he was slightly embarrassed of his scars. They were permanent proof of everything that had happened since the beginning. How could you get him used to society again? Had you volunteered to do this with blind eyes?
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“Are you hungry?” You asked as you searched around in the kitchen. You didn’t think the ‘have him under your supervision at all times’ rule was going to be this strict. I mean, he was living with you now. It’s been about two weeks since he’s been in your house, and he’s still tense. The unfamiliar atmosphere was just… not easy to get used to. At least for him. He wasn’t used to people, or kindness, or just… this.
“No,” he mumbled while he sat tensely on the dining chair. He looked like a black dot on a white sheet of paper. He didn’t quite fit in anywhere. You’ve tried to get him to speak more, but the most you get out of him a day is a few polite sentences. That’s it.
You frown, looking back at him as he looks out the window, “well you have to eat something. You can’t just go without eating for long hours,” you say as you lean on the counter, “how about we get some ramen, I bet you’d—,”
“I don’t want to go out,” he quickly cut you off, his head snapping towards you. Although the action might’ve seemed rude, his tone was soft, and… tired. He genuinely didn’t want to go out. Not that it surprises you. This isn’t the first time he’s refused to leave the house.
You sigh and rub your face, not out of frustration, but because you were thinking of a way to convince him, “I know that you don’t like going out—I understand, but you’ll make no progress being stuck in here with me,” you look at him to see a reaction, but his face still held that frown you hated to see. “I mean, sure, you can stay here if you want to, but you already know I’m not good at conversation. I’m pretty boring,” you chuckle, your attempts to lighten the mood were pretty bad.
You walk over to the dining table and sit across from him, crossing your legs and looking out the window, “you’ll have more fun outside than in here. Unless you want me to bore you with some of my life stories,”
His brow was raised with curiosity, his interest being peeked, “Maybe not,” he says and sits a little straight, his body turning to face you. You were surprised at this, just a little. He had never made an effort to keep the conversation going. He usually just stayed quiet or gave dry responses.
“Oh come on, you definitely don’t want to hear that,” you chuckle nervously, but his eye never left yours. “We don’t know that,”
“Okay then…,” you pause for a moment before continuing what you were going to say, “I’ll tell you about a few things, and if you're not bored out of your mind, we can stay here for the rest of the day. If you are, however, we’re taking a walk,” you say, although you knew that even if he was fed up with your blabbering, he’d still prefer that over going out. With a nod, he agreed to your offer and listened attentively.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Hours had passed since the offer. It turns out, you weren’t really bored at all. At least, in his eyes. You two hadn’t spoken since his ‘death’ so he had missed out on a lot of things. It was interesting to hear all of the stories you had. You were… cool. He thought. Yeah, you weren’t half as bad as he thought you were, no offense. He caught himself wanting to know more, nodding and interrupting you sometimes to just ask about certain things. To you, this was a massive win! He seemed to be getting used to you, and he was warming up a little.
“So you teach?” He asks, amusement laced his voice, “what? Is that really absurd?” You raise a brow, crossing your arms slightly while he gently waved his hand over his face, “No, no, I just remember you as a bad teacher,”
“A bad—excuse me?” You gasp with fake offense, which made him crack a smile. Your heart almost stopped because this was the first time he smiled since he got here. “I’m just saying, remember that time I asked you to teach me about a specific Jutsu?” He asks and you nod your head, “well, I have great memories of you shaking your head in disappointment and telling me I was doing it all wrong,” he looks at you and almost cracks a chuckle,
“Okay, I was young alright? I didn’t have the patience I have now,” you chuckle and shake your head, “so, for your information, I’m a very good teacher,”
He made an expression that screamed ‘suuuure’, which made you laugh, “oh, come on, don’t look at me like that,”
He shrugs, “I’ll believe that when I hear it from your students,” he says, not expecting anything to come from it, but a lightbulb had just been lit in your mind, “Alright, then let’s go talk to them,”
His eye suddenly widens as you say this, “what?” He watches you as you stand up and grab your keys. “Lets go talk to them so you see what a good teacher I am,” you say with your hands on your hip.
“I— I didn’t really mean it like that. It was just a joke—,”
“Joke or not, you deserve to meet them. Come on, they’ll love you,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
With a lot of convincing, you had gotten Obito to go outside. He was once again going into shut off mode. He didn’t speak and his eyes were glued to the ground. However, you wanted him to look forward to going out, so you tried your best to make him comfortable. “You see, they’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” you say to catch his attention. He slightly looks up from the ground, to look at you. You were a few feet ahead of him, guiding him though the village. “This one boy, he really reminds me of you,” you look back at him, only for him to look back at the ground. “How so?” He asks quietly.
“Well, he’s very stubborn. Always having a rivalry with his teammate and—,” you stop yourself and clear your throat, “he’s just like you in different ways,” she says and stops in front of Ichiraku. Two silhouettes sat inside. “Ah, here they are,” you say as you enter, looking back at Obito with a reassuring smile. He looks at you and hesitantly enters the shop, looking at the two boys who were sitting on the other side.
They look back at you and one of them grins, greeting you loudly while the other sits calm and politely says hello. The loud one had thick black hair, round dark eyes and a contagious smile, while the quiet one was quite the opposite. It made Obito… uncomfortable. No, not because he didn’t know them or anything, but the similarities between them and Obito and Kakashi were unsettling.
“I thought you weren’t showing up,” Toko, the loud one, whines, “I’m not surprised, she’s always late,” Kenji, the quiet one says. His nose was buried in his book while his friend rolled his eyes.
“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” You chuckle and stand aside, “I’m here with a guest,”
Kenji lowers his book in curiosity, his pale eyes falling onto Obito with a monotone expression. It reminded him so much of Kakashi. “A guest? Where?” Toko asked, before he looked at the obvious answer right in front of him. “Oh—Oh!” He exclaims, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re—youre,”
“Obito,” you say, “Obito, this is Toko and Kenji,” you introduce them, earning an awkward ‘hey’ from Obito, and the same with Kenji. However, Toko immediately stood up in his seat, “I have so many questions,” he says with bright eyes, “I never thought I’d see you in person so soon,”
Obito was taken slightly aback, he wasn’t expecting such a reaction, and to be honest, the boy kind of reminded him of himself. “Sit down Toko,” Kenji scoffs, but it was obvious the boy had some questions of his own.
“Now, now boys, I don’t think Obito feels comfortable answering questions just yet. He’s still getting used to things and—,”
“It’s okay,” he cuts you off before you continue. He sat down beside Toko, who seemed like he was shaking out of excitement. For the first time since Obito got here, he felt… visible. Like he wasn’t being judged by anyone. On the contrary, the boys looked at him not with disgust, but interest.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to,” you reassure, worried that he might be doing this because he felt forced to, “I’m sure,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
The night went on smoothly. You were surprised at how much Obito talked—heck, he talked more with your students than with you! The conversation ranged from different types of Jutsus, to the sharingan, to the Uchihas. You had been worried all night that Toko might ask something too personal that would make Obito uncomfortable, but to your surprise, he seemed to be very at ease. Even Kenji had begun to ask some questions, to your surprise.
Of course, the night was coming to an end, and the boys needed to leave. They said their goodbyes and left, making you sit there with Obito. You were silent for a few minutes before you looked at him, “Are you okay?” You asked, concerned that one of the boys asked him something offensive.
“Yeah,” he says and looks at you, his eyes wandering your face and his lips moving as if to say something. You wait patiently for him to speak, tilting your head to the side, “what is it?”
His lips press against each other, turning them into a flat line before he finally speaks, “there’s two of them, aren’t there supposed to be three?” He asks, his eye staring deep into yours.
“Oh..,” you say and look down for a moment, “yeah, there’s supposed to be three,” you look at your nails, trying to find them interesting as the topic makes you a little saddened.
“Then what happened?” He asks curiously, not catching the glimpse of your smile fading slowly. Now it was your turn to bite your lips. You didn’t know how to bring this up because you never liked bringing it up. No one ever asked before either, because the whole village knew what happened.
“We uh… we lost her,” you say with grief, “on a mission,”
“Oh… I’m sorry,” he says and shook his head, “I shouldn’t have asked—,”
“You didn’t know. It’s okay,” you smile reassuringly and pay for the meals. “I’m okay. And so are the boys. They’re strong,” you stand up and look outside, “it’s getting dark, we should probably head back home,”
“…yeah,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“So, you haven’t made any progress?” The silver haired man you know as Kakashi asks from in front of you. Considering he had become Hokage almost immediately after the war, you two barely got to see each other. Obito was currently getting tested at the infirmary for… who knows what. Kakashi didn’t give details about it.
“No, that’s not what I said,” you furrow your brows, “he’s having a hard time getting around. He doesn’t like going outside because people treat him nasty—,”
“And rightfully so. (Y/N), you might not get it, but this is the man who almost wiped the earth clean,” he says in a serious tone, “I know you keep thinking he’s like he used to be—the Obito from the past, but he’s not,”
“He’s trying—,”
“He’s a criminal,” you were slightly taken aback by his tone. You had never heard Kakashi speak about someone so roughly, and you’ve known him for years. You had become good friends since he became a teacher—so it really did surprise you. “You can’t be treating him like some old friend. You must take this seriously,”
“Everyone deserves a chance. He was your friend. You know him better than anyone here,” you say as you sat uncomfortably, “Even Sasuke isn’t being shunned to this extreme,”
“Because Sasuke didn’t start a war,” he refutes, “Then what are you suggesting I do?” You ask as you cross your arms, “I don’t get why you're being so.. so,” you look at him and sigh, “I’m sorry, I’ve just been really out of it. You know I hate mistreatment,” you rub your temples.
“It’s okay,” he sighs, “I just want to make sure you're not doing this because you feel forced to—,”
“I would never. I volunteer to supervise him, and I intend to make this an easy process for every party,” you say confidently, “after all, Obito and I are getting along just fine. He’s even met my students. I’ve seen good progress in him, even if it takes a little time,” you smile, “it’s like I’m slowly bringing him back,”
Kakashi stares at you for a few seconds—it was impossible to read his expression or what he was thinking, but his brows were furrowed together. You might've thought he had an expression of distaste if it weren’t for his mask, “I see… then that’s all for today. I wanted to check up on your progress, but I see that you are doing fine by yourself,”
You frown slightly at his words. You would’ve felt praised if it weren’t for his tone of voice. It seemed a little cold. You didn’t understand why—maybe it was because he was still bitter about everything that happened in the war, just like everyone else, but he out of all people should understand Obito, or at least, try to. “Right, then I’ll get going,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
It seemed the time that you used to spend with Kakashi was replaced by Obito. You two seemed to get closer to each other with each day, and you were glad. He woke up early in the morning now, telling you good morning, and asking what you would do today. If you had to go out, he’d go with you. If you stayed inside, he’d stay with you—Although you mostly thought it was because he literally had no choice but to do so.
You saw him smile more often, and the village seemed to be accepting him more and more. All of your hard work was starting to pay off. Your students seemed to love him, and so did Naruto. Obito loved to speak with your students as well. They reminded him so much of himself when he was younger. Your friendship grew so much, he even insisted on going to watch you train your students. You were glad—no, not glad. You were happy to hear this, immediately agreeing to his request.
Currently, you were sitting down on the grass while your two students sparred, Obito sitting right beside you. “You know, they remind me a lot of how things used to be,” he says while looking at the two boys, “you really weren’t kidding when you said Toko was my twin,” he chuckles, leaning back against a tree.
“I told you,” you smile at him gently before looking back at your students. “So, have you spoken to Kakashi yet?” you ask curiously, considering the last time you spoke to Kakashi about Obito he was a little… bitter about it. You understood why, but it didn’t mean you wanted that to happen.
“No, not since after… everything,” He says with a straight face, "I don't think he’d want to talk to me ever. Not that I care much anyways, I also carry resentment,” he says, not meeting your eyes as he’s focused on the two figures in front of him. They fought hand to hand, and their friendly rivalness was giving him nostalgia. The sound of their weapons clanking made him remember just how much he and Kakashi would always fight. Rin would always watch. His face drops at the memories.
“I see,” you frown, “I just wanted to know because you two deserve to flip the page and start anew,” you look at him, “I certainly forgive you. And I don’t blame you—,”
“(Y/N), I’m not a good person,” he cuts you off with furrowed brows, “And I don’t expect anyone to forgive me. Especially not kakashi. After everything that’s happened, the best thing we can do is forget we even exist,”
“I don’t think that way,” you say sternly, “I believe everyone deserves a chance, and that doesn’t exclude you. You had your reasons—heck, you were a kid when you were manipulated—”
“Manipulated?” his head snaps towards you, “it was my decision,”
“You were a kid,” you refute, but he shakes his head, “It doesn't matter,”
“It does! You were a kid, you were vulnerable—”
“And what do you know?” he asks, a little agitated. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, but his chest was slightly burning up. “You weren't there when it happened. You didn’t know Kakashi, Rin or me that well. So how could you possibly know what I feel? How could you understand?”
“Because I have a heart. You were a vulnerable kid who was grieving the death of someone you loved. You were filled with rage, and Madara took advantage of that,” you spoke calmly, because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel even worse than he already was, “You didn’t speak to the people you held closest to your heart. You were ripped away from the village in hopes of false promises,” everything you said, you knew because of him. He had talked about this with you shortly after becoming more comfortable with you. You did know, you weren’t exactly there, but you did understand him.
“Please don’t live your life regretting what you did, or hanging onto hatred,” you frown and put a hand on his shoulder, “This is a new beginning for you. One that you were given even after thinking you didn’t deserve it,” you smile, “take advantage of that and work on yourself. If you’re having a hard time doing so, then I’ll help you. I will always be here for you,”
Your words left him speechless. Honestly, he didn’t know what to say. He was at a loss for words. You made him feel… different. A good difference. It was like you were the thing he most longed for. You were pure kindness… It almost reminded him of Rin. No, it did remind him of Rin. His eye never left yours as he tried to think of something to say. Your hand on his shoulder felt so tender and gentle, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. “I care for you Obito,”
He stares at you for what felt like ages, but finally, he worked up the courage to say something, “thank you,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“I want a rematch!,” Toko whines, looking at the other teenager who stood crossed arms, “I already won, I don’t think you want me to beat you again,” he says and rolls his eyes.
“Okay boys, that’s all for today. Go home and rest,” you say and chuckle, seeing how Kenji helps Toko up from the ground. The boys packed their things before saying goodbye to both you and Obito. After they left, it was silent. Obito was still deep in thought after your conversation.
“Well, I need you to help me get some things. We’re kind of out of groceries and I need to restock,” you say before turning to him, “Unless you want to go home. That’s okay, I’ll do the grocer—”
“No, I’ll come with,” you were once again surprised by this, but immediately smile, “Okay then,”
It’s safe to assume that you and Obito were starting to become closer than what anyone imagined. Some might say it's too close. He seemed to smile more around you, and since some time had passed, he was now allowed to roam freely without having to be under your supervision. However, he refused to leave your side, and you didn’t mind at all. You were glad, because the bubbling feeling in your stomach everytime he laughed or made you laugh was amazing.
However, you were conflicted. For the longest time, you had always liked a certain silver haired Jonin. Kakashi was always your crush—kind of. You weren’t obsessed with him, but there was an obvious interest. You spent a lot of time together, and were set out on a lot of missions together as well. It’s safe to say that you were always together at all times. You weren’t sure if he had actually reciprocated your feelings, because he never showed any sign of interest in you. I guess that’s kind of why you started losing feelings for him as soon as he became Hokage. He was always busy, and you were too. He never seemed to be interested in you the way you were of him, so it didn’t matter.
Obito seemed to be replacing Kakashi in every sense of the matter. He was now the person you’d spend your time with 24/7. You laughed and joked with him, ate with him, lived in the same house as him. Everything you did, he was right by your side. And the best thing about all of this was that Obito seemed to be interested in you too. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the way compliments would slip out of his mouth from time to time would make your stomach flip. The way he now sits right beside you instead of across you everytime you eat just to be closer to you made you feel amazing. He was trying to be as subtle as possible, but he failed miserably. To him, you had become someone he truly cared for. You were so kind to him, even after everything. You trusted him, because you knew who he was. You understood him in every sense of his being, and he was glad. He was just so glad he had you. Because it was as if the universe reunited you two. It was meant to happen.
It seemed the tables had been severely flipped, much to someone’s distaste. Kakashi, although always busy, heard the talk of the town. He heard the rumors, he heard the stories. He heard about how you and Obito were supposedly going out. Or how you were supposedly spotted at a restaurant together. All of this, Kakahsi could handle, because he knew they were just rumors of the town. Of course the people would start to assume things like that. Obito had to be with you at all times, so of course it would stir up a few rumors here and there. But, it made him wonder if it was actually true.
What exactly were you to Kakashi? Why did he find himself caring so much about these stupid rumors going around? He never admitted this before, but you were special to him. Ever since you were kids, he had an interest in you. At the academy and even after joining the Anbu. You always had a special place in Kakashi’s heart. To him, you were priceless. You cared too much about silly things, and too little of yourself. He hated that about you, but he also loved it. Because it left room for him to love you. He always found himself thinking about you, both when he was a kid, and still to this day. He cursed himself for never telling you how he truly felt, but to him, his romantic feelings would subside with time. They didn’t, of course, he was just lying to himself.
Why exactly did he refuse to believe his feelings towards you? Well, he’s always been alone, and when he’s not, he ends up losing those closest to him. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t afford to love you when he knew that you might leave him. He couldn’t afford another heartbreak, so he treated you as a friend. He was sure you liked him, he wasn’t stupid, and he was glad. He bathed in your sweetness, and he loved it. He loved knowing that you felt the same. However, his biggest mistake was never saying anything. Because now, he was worried that you didn’t want him anymore. Now that you didn’t want him, he wanted you the most. You barely come visit him at his office anymore, and when you do, it's strictly professional. He had never expected things to go this way. Sure, he was now the Hokage, but out of all the people to treat him with such ‘respect’, he didn’t expect it from you. He thought you’d stay the same as you were. Heck, you didn’t even call him by his name anymore. It was either Hatake or Sir, and neither of them left a good taste in his mouth.
That’s why he made sure that tonight, he’d make up for all the time he wasted just pushing you away.
“You called me here for something, Sir?” you ask as you enter his office,
“You know you don’t have to use formalities when we’re alone, right?” he asks with a chuckle, earning and chuckle from you, “I mean, you’re the Hokage, it’s disrespectful to talk to you as if you’re a normal person,”
He shakes his head before sitting down, “How have you been?” he asks, waiting for you to sit down, which you did.
“Um… Well, i’ve been good,” you say hesitantly, “It’s been peaceful,”
“Is that so? I would’ve assumed you’d be stressed thanks to Obito,” he says and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. You quickly look at him and smile, shaking your head with a chuckle. You instantly melt into the conversation, as if you two had never stopped hanging out, “Oh no, he’s an angel,” you cover your mouth with a giggle, “He’s already getting used to everything. You should’ve seen him helping the seniors. They love him,”
The more you spoke about Obito, the more his expression seemed to change, “i see,” he clears his throat, “I’m glad you’re getting along,” he says a little bitterly, but you didn’t quite catch that.
“I was meaning to ask,” you look at him with a smile, “Have you gotten to speak to him? I think it would be a good idea to talk things out. He told me he hasn’t spoken to you since he got here, so…,” you look at your hands, “maybe it wouldn’t be a bother if you two got to speak. I know things are tense right now, so I wanted to—,”
“I don’t think he’d want to agree with that. We’ve parted ways. It’s better to leave things as they are right now. Let things smooth as they go,” he says, earning a small ‘oh’ from you. He noticed how your smile slightly dropped.
“But, I do have tonight free. I was meaning to ask you— well, if you wanted to go out and eat. You know, so we can catch up,” he was hopeful. There was a big chance you’d say no, but to his surprise, your eyes lit up and your smile came back to your pretty face. “Of course, around what time were you planning? Not that I’ll be busy anytime today, I’m free all day,” you smile excitedly.
“How does six sound?”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“You’re going out?” Obito asks as he lays on your bed. He had a habit of laying on it whenever he could. He would always say it was much more comfortable than his.
“yeah, I thought I told you?” you say as you look through your closet, “No, not really. Where are you going?” he asks curiously, sitting up to look at what clothes you were pulling out.
“I’m going out to meet the Hokage,” you say with a smile, slightly excited that you would get to catch up with him again. This made Obito raise a brow, “So, you’re going out to meet Kakashi,” he states with a ‘matter of fact’ tone “Yes,” you affirm and turn to him. He lays back down, but still looks at you, “Why? Is it like, some weird date or something?”
“No! We’re just going to catch up since we barely spent any time together since he became Hokage,” you say and hold up a dress, “Do you think this is nice?” you smile and show off your dress. A hand comes and pushes the dress aside gently, “It sounds like a date to me,” he looks at your face, kneeling on the bed now.
“Obito, it’s not a date,” you put the dress down, “Even if it was, what's the big deal?”
“Nothing, I’m just saying,” he stands up and walks towards the closet, pulling out another dress, This one was a navy colored one, nothing fancy, but it was still pretty “This one would look way better,” he grins “It’s my favorite color too,”
You smile and take the dress, “Alright,”
After getting dressed and ready, you say goodbye to Obito, who is still on your bed. You heard him ask for some sweets when you got back—but you didn’t really hear him well.
You were both excited and nervous. You didn’t know what to expect. I mean, you knew Kakashi wanted to catch up, sure, but you didn’t know what to expect from yourself. One day you thought you were completely over Kakashi, and now you’re questioning your feelings again. To some extent, your feelings for Kakashi were still very much strong and alive. You were dumb for thinking that you could just forget about him. However, you also felt a little something for Obito. Your mind was reeling with many thoughts. You honestly didn’t know what to do anymore. It was like Kakashi controlled what you felt, and when you could feel it without even trying. You didn’t blame him of course, but it frustrated you a lot.
After a while of walking, you finally saw Kakashi waiting for you at the bridge. You smile and walk towards him, his head turning towards you once he hears your shoes. You assume he smiled at you at the way his eyes turn into crescent moons, “hey,” he greets, turning to face you. “You look wonderful,”
“Thank you,” you reply, your smile never leaving your face as your cheeks are dusted pink. You give him a compliment in return as well, “So, where are we going to eat?” You ask, standing besides him as he begins to lead the way, “I reserved a spot at the new restaurant that just opened recently. I’ve heard real good things about it, and I wanted to bring someone special with me,”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you didn’t want to think much of it, “I see,” your cheeks were dusted pink, your lips forming a small smile as you looked down. He noticed this, and smiled to himself. After all this time, he still had that effect on you.
The restaurant was pretty different from all the others in Konoha. It was a little more modern than any other restaurant, and it just screamed expensive. “Wow, this place looks amazing,” you say as you look around, already sitting across from Kakashi, “I’m not sure I can afford to come here more than two times. It looks really expensive,” you laugh, earning a chuckle from him, “Maybe you won’t have to pay. If you come with me, I’ll definitely make sure to pay for everything. Just like tonight,” he tilts his head with a smile, his eyes closed.
“Oh no, don’t bother, I brought money—,”
“I said I’ll pay (Y/N), don’t worry about it,” he put a hand over yours when you went to reach for your pouch. You look at his hand and then at him, “Are you sure?” He nods and leans back, pulling his hand away from yours, “of course, I was the one who invited you. I’m not letting you pay,” he chuckles. He was so handsome.
The afternoon was going really well. Both were having a nice conversation during your meal—although, you had no idea how he was eating since not once did you see him pull down his mask—and were just enjoying yourselves. You felt euphoric. It was nice being with him again. You had forgotten exactly why you had fallen for him all those years ago, and today you were being reminded. He was so nice, so funny, so perfect to you. He read you like a book and listened to everything you had to say. It was just nice.
“You know, I missed this,” you say, taking the last bite of your food and smiling, “I forgot when was the last time that we actually spoke like this. For hours,” you rest your chin on your palm, “I thought we wouldn’t get to do this anymore”
“I thought so too,” he says and looks into your eyes. He fell quiet as he stared at you. This had to be the moment. He needed to tell you now, because he wouldn’t get another chance if he didn’t.
“(Y/N), I have something really important I want to say,” he says, suddenly a little more serious than before, “I want you to be honest with me,”
You furrow your brows, sitting upright and nodding, “yeah, of course. What is it?”
“How do you really feel about me?” You were taken aback by his question, “I thought you wanted to say something important, not ask me something,” you chuckle a little nervously, trying to avoid answering, but he shook his head, “I’ll tell you when you answer me,”
“Well, I think…,” you stop for a moment, trying to form the words you so badly wanted to utter. ‘I’ve been in love with you for the past fifteen years,’ is all you wanted to say, but you couldn’t. Not when you were torn between telling him and forgetting Obito, or just never telling him at all. “You’re a wonderful person,” you say, and look at him. However, it seemed like that wasn’t the answer he wanted. “And I appreciate you a lot, for always being there for me for as long as I remember,”
The table was now quiet. He seemed to be thinking of what to say, and you were nervously waiting for his answer.
“Do you like me? Romantically,” he asks again, now going straight to the point, making your heart beat faster, “what?” You ask, gulping down the lump in your throat.
“Because I like you. I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember,” he declares, making your heart almost stop. You didn’t expect this. You never would’ve expected this. He had never treated you romantically in his life, so what was the occasion?
“I… Kakashi, I don’t understand,” you furrow your brows, “If that is really true, how come you never told me before—or at least dropped hints,”
“I didn’t want to give you false hopes. I wasn’t sure before, mostly because I was afraid to get hurt,” he admits, “but now I’m sure,”
“But why now? Why now all of a sudden?” You ask, the timing seemed weird. How come now, that you weren’t speaking as much as before, he wanted to confess. Why now?
“I.. don’t know,” he blinks, “but what matters is that I told you,”
“I.. Are you being genuine?” You frown, “because the timing seems a little strange. I don’t understand why you suddenly seem interested in me. I mean, we haven’t hung out, we haven’t spoken—you never showed interest in me before this moment. Why is it that now you suddenly want to say this to me,” you didn’t understand why you weren’t happy. I mean, you liked him, of course, but it felt strange.
The puzzle pieces didn’t fit, and the only reason as to why he was seemingly starting to take an interest now, was because you were spending more time with Obito. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but come on, it was plausible. It made sense if you thought about it. They technically hated each other, and it was no secret they were rivals and will always be rivals. It looked as if now that Obito was winning your attention, Kakashi wanted it back.
“Of course I’m being genuine. I’ve always liked you,” he frowns, “Do you not like me?”
“It’s… it’s not that. I just, I don’t think I want anything right now. The timing seems off and I— I just don’t know if I’m sure of what I’m feeling,”
The air seemed to get tense the more you spoke. You seemed conflicted, and Kakashi knew why. He knew why you were conflicted. “This is about Obito, isn’t it?” He suddenly asks, making your head snap towards him. “I…,” you didn’t know how to answer, because to some extent, yes, it was about Obito,
“I knew it,” he leans back, “you like him,”
“It’s not like that,”
“Then why is it that you suddenly changed your mind? I mean, I know you like me. Or at least liked. So why else would you not accept me?”
Now that makes you uncomfortable. He was speaking the truth, but the way he said it sounded wrong.
“Kakashi, things change,” you begin to explain, but you never expected what he said next.
“(Y/N), you can’t just fall for him. I’m not sure if he likes you, but if he does, it’s not genuine. It’s not fair to take advantage of someone who obviously has never been treated nicely before. Of course he’d fall for the first person to show him an ounce of respect,”
Your jaw dropped at his words. You couldn’t believe what you just heard. You had to process everything twice just to make sure you weren’t making things up. Kakashi had to admit he was talking out of frustration—since he wasn’t getting you easily. But this reached a whole different level.
“Unbelievable,” you finally say, reaching for your pouch and pulling out money. You slam it onto the table and stand up.
“(Y/N), wait—,”
“I want you to know that Obito deserves to be loved too, you know. Don’t you ever tell me I’m taking advantage of someone just because I love them,” you scoff and take your things, starting to storm your way out of there. Before you could leave, Kakashi caught your wrist, “I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to convince, but you pull your arm away, “I know what you meant,” you snarl and finally exit, leaving a guilty Kakashi behind.
The walk home was hot. You felt hot all around. You were angry. Angry and hurt. His words kept swirling in your head.
‘It’s not fair to take advantage of someone who obviously has never been treated nicely before,’
Who did he think he was? How could he even say that? It hurts you. It hurt you because you liked him so much, but this? This made you think about what you felt. It made you question things.
Maybe you were overreacting. You didn’t know. Right now, you didn’t want to know. You got home and quickly stormed towards your bedroom after locking the door. You looked disheveled—and once you reached your bedroom, Obito quickly sat up from your bed, “you’re here early,” he says, but quickly stopped when he saw your red face. Concern washes over him as he stands up, “hey, what’s wrong?”
You stay silent, taking off your shoes while shaking slightly, “(Y/N), what’s going on?” he asks again, coming closer to you and placing his gentle hands on your shoulders, “Hey, look at me,”
You finally look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. You were so mad, so frustrated, that you couldn’t hold back your tears, “what’s wrong?” His voice was so gentle, so soothing. It was exactly what you needed right now. You had possibly ruined your relationship with Kakashi—no, you didn’t ruin it. He did.
“I just,” you choked as your tears finally fell. You hated crying. You hated that you cried when you just wanted to yell.
Instead of pushing you to speak, Obito pulled you into a hug. His arms wrapped around your waist as his hand held your head and pushed it towards his chest. It was so warm. “It’s okay, I’m here,” he whispers, his fingers gently tangling themselves into your hair. Your arms found themselves wrapping around him as well, holding onto him for what seemed like hours. Yet he never moved. He never uttered a word to hurt you. On the contrary, he let you know he was there for you. This is what you needed…
“Thank you, Obito,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Days passed by since what happened at the restaurant, and today was the first time since the incident that you were called to the Hokage’s office. You felt dread wash over you when you received the message, you didn’t want to go, not after what happened. Oh, had I mentioned how Obito and you now seemed to be inseparable? That interaction had built a strong bond between the two of you. No words were spoken that night, but they didn’t have to be. Both of you created a connection no other person could achieve.
With every step you took, your body felt heavier. Dread consumed you and you couldn’t seem to open the door to his office. You didn’t know what to expect… however, you managed to build the courage to enter his office, straightening yourself and walking towards his desk, “you called for me, sir?”
His head tilts upwards to look at you, “Yes,” he answers dryly and pulls a scroll from his desk, “a mission for you, out in Kirigakure,” he waits for you to take the scroll, watching you intently. You felt as if his eyes were burning holes onto your skin. You reached for the scroll and took it.
“Take both your students with you,” he adds, and looks down at some papers, “that’s all,”
You weren’t expecting this attitude, but then again, what were you expecting? You felt weird. “Right, thank you,” you say, bowing respectfully before turning towards the exit. As you were about to open the door, he called for you. You turn your head towards him, and wait for him to speak.
“Just know that I’m sorry,” he says, which you simply nodded and left. Once you were out of sight, your heart dropped to your stomach. ‘You should’ve said something’ you thought, mentally facepalming. ‘He was trying to apologize and you just left? You’re so stupid’ you insult yourself as you walk out of the building. You wondered what this mission was about, but you didn’t check until you were back home.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
The mission was simple. There were some ninja terrorizing the village and they needed some help catching them. It wasn’t an S rank mission, but it was still pretty high up there. You assumed the ninja were pretty darn strong if you had to be sent out.
“A mission in the mist village?” Asked Obito as he peeked over your shoulder to see what the scroll said. “Apparently. It’ll take a few days I guess,” you sigh and place the scroll on the desk of your room, going to grab a bag to pack some things. Obito read the scroll with furrowed brows, “why couldn’t he send Naruto and his gang? I mean, they could handle it themselves,” he asks and watches you pack, “because they’re busy with their own missions,” you say, throwing some clothes and tools into your bag, “I have to leave in a few hours, so please keep the place tidy,” you say, turning towards him.
“Of course,” he shrugs and sits down on the bed, “and make sure to eat well—and don’t drool on my pillows this time,” you laugh as he blushed slightly, “that was one time,” he argued
“I know, I’m just messing with you,”
Once it was time to leave, you took your bag and wore your headband. Obito followed behind you as you walked towards the door. “Hey,” he called before you opened the door. You turn to him and raise a brow, “what is it?”
“Please be careful,” he says, obviously worried, “I mean, I know you’ll kick ass, but please be careful,” he smiles at you worriedly, but you grinned reassuringly, “don’t worry Obito, I’ll come back in one piece,” you chuckle and open your arms. He immediately leaned in to give you a strong hug, and for a moment it seemed like he didn’t want to let go. However, you needed to leave and he let go. He smiled gently and pinched your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you soon then,” he says and you nod, leaving him behind. You wondered what he’d do while you were gone, but decided it was better to keep your mind focused on your mission.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Now while you were gone, a surprise arrived at your doorstep. When Obito answered the door, it was two of Kakashi’s secretaries. “Obito Uchiha, you have been summoned to the Hokage’s office on urgent request,”
Him? What for? Although Obito wanted to ask these exact questions, he only nodded and followed them to the building. He hadn’t been called there for about two months, what could he possibly be called over there for.
Once they arrived, he was left alone in front of the office doors. Everything seemed different. The village itself had changed too much since the last time he was there—well, when he was a kid. He shook the thoughts away and entered the office. Finally, after two long months, Kakashi and Obito were back face to face.
“You called me,” Obito states, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he waits for Kakashi to speak. The silver haired man looks up from his paperwork, his dark eyes burning into Obito’s.
“Yes, we need to talk,”
#naruto x reader#naruto shippuden#naruto#fanfic#obito uchiha#obito x reader#naruto obito#obito x you#obito uchiha x reader#kakashi hatake#kakashi sensei#kakashi x reader#kakashi fanfiction#kakashi hatake x reader#kakashi hatake x you#kakashi x reader x obito#Obito x reader x kakashi#naruto obito uchiha#naruto fanfiction#naruto x you
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Hello Child of Man! I have a request if it interests you.
What would the TWST boys (Riddle, Leona, Lilia, and Jade or Azul) give to reader to show their affection is honest? Like, it's their prized possession.
You write so well! Please continue. ♡ Thank youuuuu.
A Gift can speak a thousand words
Heyy, Thank you so much for the request, and I'm so sorry it took so long to write,, school has been a pain :') Thank you so much for the kind words and i hope you enjoy!!
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What they would give reader to prove their affection is honest
Characters: Riddle, Leona, Lilia, Azul
Format: Headcanons
Warnings: None that i can think off
Riddle
Red roses from Heartslabyul's Rose Garden
-This might seem rather basic and almost thoughtless at first, but these roses truly hold his entire heart
-There is the factor that his mother most likely raised him very traditional and conservative, so he was taught to gift his lover flowers
-Also, this is probably his first relationship, and the people around him, as well as the internet, will have told him that red roses, the flowers of love, is a good gift.
-but there is so much more to it than just that
-Both heartslabyul and especially the red roses are very dear to him, after all, the red roses are a, if not the, symbol of the queen of hearts and her kingdom. He himself tries to be as similar to the queen of hearts as possible, heartslabyul practically his kingdom
-By gifting you these Hand picked roses, from the Heartslabyul garden, he, as the so-to-say queen of heartslabyul, is gifting you a part of the most important part of his kingdom, and by extension, a part of him
-the roses are, of course, hand picked with extreme care, it's to ensure that you will truly only get the best of the best, because in his eyes, you deserve even more than just perfection.
Leona
His dorm uniform jacket
-Another one that might seem basic and meaningless at first
-But once again, there's more to it!
-Kings are most easily recognised by their crowns. Since he isn't the firstborn, and therefor not king, he doesn't have a crown.. But at NRC, the Housewardens are recognized by their unique dorm uniform, it's his version of a crown, so to say.
-Also, most beast men, including lions, mark their territory through scent, similar to their animal counter parts.
-And since he usually skips classes and spends a majority of his time in his dorm, he's usually wearing it!.. well, was, until he gave it to you. It's his way to mark you without outright admitting it
-Being second in line, most of his kingdoms treasures and similar things, have always been given to his older brother, so with the few things that are his, that he considers precious, he's very territorial about. and that includes you, the love of his live.
-The beastmen will smell his scent, and almost all other students will most likely recognize the jacket, both resulting in them leaving you be. An absolute win in his book.
-Also, when a king marries his lover, he gifts them the crown of his kingdom, but he is no king and therefore has no crown, so instead he'll gift you his housewarden jacket as a sign that you rule alongside him
Lilia
a precious fae gem
-No matter how young Lilia try's to act, in the end he's still an old man
-He'd give a thousand year old gem, that still somehow looks perfect. Maybe it's embedded into a necklace, maybe a ring.
-If you can take it out of it's original casing, he'll definitely put it into your favorite type of jewelry!
-chances are, it has been in his family for generation, or it was a gift from someone dear to him during the war, like Baul or Meleanor. Either way, this gem is very dear to him, although not nearly as dear as you!
-Him giving you this gem, is his way of telling you how serious your relationship is to him, that he definitely plans to marry you one day, and, most importantly, that in his eyes, you're already a part of the little family he has build himself
-In fact, chances are, that he gave you this gem after he saw you acting particularly like a parent caring towards silver, it just proofed how perfectly you fit in!
-He would have used it as part of your engagement ring, but he wants that to perfectly suit your taste. Also, that means it'll eventually be replaced by a marriage band, and he wants you to be able to wear the gem even after marriage, till the rest of your days.
Azul
Master key
-Azul values his privacy. A lot.
-As a child, he could seemingly never get away from his bullies, and even now, when he gets overwhelmed or reminded of his trauma, he sometimes feels helpless. So, chances are he secured a small room where he could get away, somewhere even the twins don't have access to.
-But you? you're the only exception. It seems that no matter what, you always manage to calm him down, he doesn't understand why or how, but you do. It almost scares him.
-For him to give you this, you'd also have to be in a relationship for quite a while, at least around a year. Bullying causes insecurities, and insecurities can cause quite the trust issues.
-He'd be so nervous about giving you it. What if it's a mistake? What if you think it's weird? But he loves you enough to pull through. He try's to play it cool. He Fails.
-Now you often surprise him at work, or specifically seek him out when you know he's upset. It flusters him every time, but he has yet to regret his decision :) He never will, he is heels over head in love with you
A piece of his moms jewlery
-This was more of a side thought, but i found it cute and wanted to expand a bit on it.
-Azul is an absolute mamas boy in my eyes, she made sure he grew up to be a gentleman once he grows up
-So, when he visits home, he most likely tells her about you!
-And she, in true motherly nature, is just like "How sweet, my baby is in love! Oh, how about you bring them back a gift! Do they like jewelry?"
-And suddenly he comes back with a piece of her jewelry, soon to be yours. He's just happy she seems to approve of you :)
-A blushing, nervous wreck, as he gives it to you and explains the reason for it
-Every time he sees you wearing it after that, he just starts stuttering while turning red. The other members of the board game club are very confused, they know you two are dating, but that doesn't explain why he turned into a tomato..oh hey, is that some new jewelry, prefect?
Fried my brain trying to find the perfect things haha, Lilia was definitely the hardest, but very fun to write nonetheless!
Feedback is welcomed, just be kind! Hope you all have an amazing day!
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#headcanons#twisted wonderland headcanons#twst headcanons#writing#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader#riddle x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#leona kingsholar x reader#twst leona#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#lillia vanrouge#lillia vanrouge x reader#lilia vanrouge#twst lilia#paradise writing ✍🏻
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Secret tunnels: who built them, and who uses them?
So there aren't "Secret" tunnels in the Seireitei.
There are "These are SUPPOSED to be secret tunnels to evacuate the nobles and central 46 in an emergency but you have a better chance of keeping a fart secret in an elevator than you do of any kind of construction project in Seireitei" tunnels.
There are "Well we definitely built this for a reason but it's been eight fucking centuries and fuck if anyone alive remembers what the hell it's for" tunnels.
There are even quite a few "this tunnel is a secret because it wasn't *built* by anyone, it's the by-product of centuries of dubious infrastructure and construction shortcuts and no small amount of subsidence. This is just a gap waiting to collapse, but sure. You can try your luck" tunnels.
---
If there was ever a Master of these Sort-of-Secret tunnels, it was the 5th captain of the 11th division, Tokagero Kenpachi.
Certainly, Unohana and the fourth division collectively are the lords of the undercity now, but Unohana is a busy woman with lots to do topside. So in 1438, she Very Generously allowed the 11th to maintain the sewers and underground infrastructure while she figured out vaccines.
Tokagero regarded this as very kind of Unohana, because Tokagero was a water monitor of gargantuan scale, and regarded the dark and twisting undercity as her natural habitat. Which it may well have been, because that's certainly a space where an already large lizard might be exposed to Kido Corps magical waste or other Suspect Substances and grow to be large enough to swallow the fourth Kenpachi whole and assume his title.
Tokagero and the 11th had many a fine hunt in the undercity, after hollows that had escaped from noble-backed Bloodsports, to fugitives, to other strange creatures of the urban abyss, including a worrisomely large koi fish that Tokagero decided to grant dominion over the undercity's waterways as one Supernatural Beast to another. There was some wagging of tongues that Tokagero was backing out of a fight with Daikoi, but that was quickly silences by Tokagero flicking her own tongue and reminding everyone that she never packed provisions for these trips.
One day however, Tokagero discovered something bizarre.
Ice.
She'd been on the hunt of an escaped war criminal when she found him in an odd corner of the sewers with a very large hole where his head used to be, as if shot with an incredibly powerful projectile.
Weird.
She thought she felt a crackle of reiatsu before, but this was unlike any Kido spells she knew, and her quarry was not the type to do himself in.
Weirder still was the frigid patch of ice smeared against part of the floor an wall beside him. This bastard had no proclivity for Kido and did not carry an ice-type weapon, so where had it come from?
---
"Youre back early." Jugram frowned at Lille Barro as he came in from the unusually intense blizzard outside castle silbern.
"Sewers 're haunted." Barro grunted, hefting his massive gun off his shoulder.
"Pardon?" Jugram blinked.
"Sewers 're haunted." Barro repeated, rolling his eye. "The sewers near the primary spy portals are PACKED with shinigami on the hunt for something- one of them nearly ran into me. So patrols will have to wait."
"Ah." Jugram nodded. "...coffee?" The second-in-cmand offered Barro, for lack of anything sensible to say.
"Hm?" Barro blinked, looking up from hanging up his strange hat. "Oh, yes. Please. Sorry, it's been a while since an enemy got that close and it's unnerved me. I keep feeling like I've forgotten something..."
"Just so long as you didn't leave the portal open." Jugram teased, confident in his commrade's competence.
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The (now extinct) utosai, the last of the great lacetors.
Lacetors are a clade of warmblooded reptiles that fill niches as large grazers. The only genera surviving in the contemporary are relatively small (averaging about the size of cattle), but many older species grew bigger than elephants. Utosai were the last remaining members of this branch, dwindling towards extinction as their once vast grasslands experienced rapid desertification over a period of a mere few millenia, becoming the massive, mostly uninhabitable desert region colloquially known as the Deadlands.
They would historically live in herds consisting of one male, several (sometimes dozens of) females, and their associated young, which would migrate vast distances to follow seasonal rains. Males would fight each other to gain control of their mates or tempt away singular females, with young males roaming in bachelor herds. As reliable grasslands grew sparser, these herds grew much smaller, with the last remaining utosai being found largely as small bands of females and lone, wandering males that would opportunistically mate when they were lucky enough to find each other.
Utosai had very thick scaly skin that folds in plates, in part a vestigial defense mechanism against large predators that had LONG vanished. Like many other lacetor, they had partly bony facial pads that grew large and colorful in males as display features. Their tremendous curving horns served predominantly as additional display features, while the smaller, jutting horns partly figured into intraspecies combat, with males standing side by side and front to back and swinging these horns at each other in ritualized combat behavior.
These horns were clearly of value to the people who once inhabited the same ranges as utosai, as their ivory figured heavily into their craftwork and holy objects and can be found near-ubiquitously in the burials of high ranking people in the east interior Deadlands. These surviving utosai ivory artifacts are of tremendous value, with the mere prospect of obtaining them tempting many graverobbers and other such wealth-seekers into the remains of ancient human settlements (a mostly futile and often deadly task, most accessible tombs have already been plundered and those still left in peace are hidden deeply beneath the sands).
Utosai lasted far longer than many of their counterparts, surviving on (and trapped within) dwindling patches of coastal grassland fed by ocean rains, too isolated within stretches of desert for any chance of migration to grasslands further from the equator. These last fragmentary populations were discovered by traders and treasure seekers sponsored by the early 2nd Burri empire, with many hatchling utosai being taken back overseas hundreds of miles north. It is unknown when the last wild utosai died, but all but the tiniest fragments of their coastal grasslands are gone and the great beasts are nowhere to be found.
The captive animals were bred in Bur and eventually produced a relatively large (and heavily inbred) population, probably maxing out at around 1000 individuals. They were never truly domesticated but could be made tame and well accommodated to handling, which eventually developed into their use as mounts, forming an elite cavalry unit used in warfare. A war utosai was outfitted with a shielded tower upon its back from which archers could fire from height, and would be driven by a rider on its neck. Their use was functionally similar to irl war elephants, being utilized for intimidation, to scatter enemy formations, and to lead (or break) charges. These were the largest animals that most people would have ever seen, and were often reckoned as nigh-invulnerable. The utosai was heavily used in Bur's wars of conquest, and became an esteemed animal emblematic of the second Burri empire's might.
Very few consistently effective counters to the war utosai were discovered during the duration of their use. One very famous, very successful counter was used by the pre-Wardi Ephenni tribe in its war of independence against the second Burri empire (which was already beginning to collapse). The province of Ephennos was of key import to the empire as a breadbasket, being highly fertile lands and providing much of the grain that sustained the empire. A cavalry of ten utosai (a VERY excessive number against a less well-trained, less well-armed group of soldiers) was brought overseas to assist in crushing dissent and were devastating in battle, with only two of the ten being killed in three years of protracted warfare.
In an act of cleverness, desperation, or both, a trio of khait were covered in pitch and set ablaze, and spurred into hurtling towards the bulls in the utosai cavalry. The utosai panicked and fled, trampling many Burri soldiers in the process and utterly destroying their formations, with three of the eight utosai falling onto their sides (weighed down by their towers) and killed by Ephenni soldiers. This allowed for victory in battle, and this victory ultimately turned the tide in favor of the kingdom of Ephennos and its eventual independence. A motif of three khait wreathed in flames is still widely used in this region and as emblematic of Ephenni heritage (who, while broadly assimilated into Wardi nationality, still retain a sense of individual identity, and pride in their city-state being a center of power and birthplace of kings within Imperial Wardin).
The use of utosai in warfare dwindled after the discovery of this fairly effective counter. They were no longer reckoned as nearly invulnerable, and the great cost of transporting and feeding these animals became increasingly inviable. Captive breeding began to dwindle along with their use in warfare. The last utosai were lost, killed, or slowly died off in the Burri wilderness during and after the empire's tumultuous collapse. Some folklore describes hidden populations surviving in some wilder areas- there are several places in Bur where people claim to sometimes see the silhouettes of these great beasts against the horizon, and the rural parts of Ephennos are rumored to have a few of them (perhaps descendants of the surviving war utosai, perhaps their ghosts). Otherwise, they are lost to the world.
#creatures#Probably should have saved some of this for a wip sketch of a war utosai but ehghgjhgjjhgjhggghghjghghghgcgjhdgfkhlfnvjhgier;klh2iuwi#Also lacetor are ceratopsianoids there Are some non-avian dinosaurs in this setting (but at this point Only these)#I use 'oids' because I take a lot of liberties with the notion that a lot of my creatures are Derived from irl prehistoric animals but#followed different evolutionary pathways into the present. So not a literal speculative ceratopsian but something derived from something#Like That#They notably differ in being built specifically for grazing- they have large flexible lips and broad beaks hidden within for selecting and#cropping grass#They also don't have the frills#and a lot of them have indian rhino-esque armored skin because I think it looks cool#I think there's rhinos in other parts of the setting not dead sure though
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Beast Wars: Second Chances - The Covers
Originally posted on February 2nd, 2011
Cover A - Daniel Olsén Covers B & C - Seb Quickstrike - Ed Pirrie Depth Charge - Loke Mei Yin Snarl vs Terrorsaur - James Ferrand Waspinator - Jeremy Tiongson Dinobot sketch - Matt Frank
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wada sez: Okay, this one was as much a surprise to me as it is to you. Prolific Mosaic contributor Mike Priest asked me if I had any plans to archive Beast Wars: Second Chances, a full-length comic he originally pitched in a similar vein to War Journal and Spotlight: Stunticons. As nearly all the writers and artists who worked on this one were also Mosaic contributors, and I’ve always felt like there weren’t enough Beast Wars strips in Mosaic, and because Mike asked nicely, I couldn’t say no! Thanks to Mike’s involvement, I’ve got the original scripts and his original story treatment, titled Beast Wars: Beyond, which you can read below—although the final story ended up wildly different, if you want to read along without any spoilers whatsoever, I’d recommend coming back to this post later! It seems that Matt Frank was originally tapped for the project, as he produced a sketch of Dinobot which you can see below, but no further contributions from him ever surfaced.
Okay, this is my initial rough pitch for the story.
Again, anything and everything here is mutable and subject to tweaking and whatever, or downright ignoring and trashing. I won’t cry.
We start roughly a month or two Earth-time after Primal’s crew left. The first page should explain this and whatever, and then something akin to “BUT SOMETHING STILL STIRS on this planet!” Cut to Depthcharge dragging himself out of the surf.
(I’m trying to work AROUND the Mosaic “Eternal”, making it more retroactively tied-in.)
We establish Waspinator as leader of the proto-human tribe, out on a hunt or something with some other humans. Perhaps some brief proto-human comedy before we hit the nitty-gritty.
We establish Depthcharge wandering around, arguing with himself, totally nuts, screaming at no one in-particular (He’s arguing with Rampage, who only responds through text boxes, so to anyone else, DC looks like a nut).
Waspinator encounters Depthcharge, is initially scared and confused, but decides, what the hey, see what’s up with fishie-bot. Waspinator honestly is curious/wants to help.
Depthcharge, in a confused, blind rage, grabs Waspinator and viciously beats him near to death. And not in a funny, usual-Waspinator way. He’s pleading, BEGGING for Depthcharge to stop. I’m talking the reader needs to actually feel really bad for Waspinator; he is an endearing character and kind of our “hero” for this story.
Only when some of Waspinator’s human tribe start hitting Depthcharge with rocks and spears does he snap out of it, and is literally horrified at what’s he done to poor Waspinator. (Rampage is in ecstasy though; this is exactly what he wants to turn Depthcharge into; a killer like Rampage himself).
Depthcharge retreats, transforms to jet mode and flies off, horrified at what he’s become.
The proto-humans can’t do anything to help the dying, whimpering Waspinator. So they make a stretcher and begin carrying him home.
Only they don’t make it. Something attacks and kills them; Waspinator is too weak to help them. And it takes Waspinator’s remains. (Hints of a giant metal spider, perhaps in this sequence)
We establish Tarantulas. Or rather an AI program that approximates Tarantulas’ personality and goals. It is housed in a sub-level of Tarantulas’ former lair. He “lives” through his Steel Tech proxy body, the (black and grey Transmetal Tarantulas), but he cannot particularly control it too well/or it really is just a poor substitute for a sparked body.
Tarantulas has a blank stasis pod that was affected by the Quantum Surge. He plugs Waspinator’s spark into it. And Transmetal Waspinator is born. Waspinator comes back online strapped to a table, with the Steel Tech drone working on him (And Tarantulas’ face on a computer screen, establishing that he really is housed in his lair’s “hard drive”)
Tarantulas explains that he still has to accomplish the Tripredacus Council’s goals, even after death, and Waspinator is one of his new tools.
Faux-Tarantulas ALSO reveals that he has the bodies of Scorponok and Terrorsaur (both Transmetalized), which he recovered from the lava pit. (TM Terrorsaur’s fine, but a new design for Transmetal Scorponok is essential. NOT the McDonald’s toy design. Make him larger and bulkier and his third mode should have flight capability- this is important for later)
Fitting all three with “neural implants” that ensure obedience, Tarantulas explains he will use them to breach the Ark and carry out its destruction (His Steel Tech drone isn’t dexterous or durable enough to fight through the Ark’s automated defenses).
And Waspinator is a test subject. Tarantulas releases him from his bonds and orders him to obey. The neural implant holds, and Tarantulas decides to send Waspinator for a test-drive. Waspinator speeds out of the lair in his new jet mode.
As he travels over the landscape, he is watched by someone new on the ground. We don’t find out who it is YET. Just a close up of a wide, toothy grin and an “Interesting”.
Meanwhile Depthcharge is having a nervous breakdown. Rampage is slowly driving him insane, and Depthcharge starts repeatedly trying to kill himself. It is MESSED UP, including Depthcharge throwing himself on his own sword, tearing bits off, and such. But all the damage heals. Exhausted and pained, Depthcharge suddenly becomes aware of a visitor watching him.
Cue DINOBOT II, standing arrogantly and grinning down on Depthcharge, telling him it won’t work.
Both Depthcharge and Rampage are surprised to see him. Rampage particularly.
Meanwhile, Waspinator’s test-drive includes going back to his proto-human village and is ordered to raze it to the ground by Tarantulas. But Waspy surprises Tarantulas (and the audience) by fighting the neural implant and eventually succeeding in burning it out, overcoming Tarantulas’ will by plumbing that can-do never-give-up Waspinator spirit and his genuine affection for the proto-humans. Tarantulas is surprised by this, but notes he has back-ups anyway, activating Scorponok and Terrorsaur.
Back with Depthcharge and Dinobot, who, of note, acts somewhat uncharacteristically, giving half-answers and grinning a lot. Rampage begins to suspect something is different or wrong with Dinobot.
Meanwhile, Scorponok and Terrorsaur are both activated and forced into line by the neural implants. Terrorsaur is still his arrogant self, but Scorponok is more quiet and almost more professional (It’ll be seen/developed that he’s a bit disillusioned that Megatron never saw fit to recover him from the lava pit). Anyway, as neither of them have any particular strong will to oppose the neural implant, they go to carry out Tarantulas’ orders to attack the Ark.
We establish the VOK, who realize the danger to the time stream is not yet over. The two that “killed” Tarantulas decide to intervene. They go to where Tigerhawk died and begin pulling his shattered pieces together with their powers. (Tigerhawk would be dead, just a zombie shell animated by these Vok and while his body is whole, it is in horrendous shape, missing an optic, generally looking like a terrifying zombie).
Meanwhile Waspinator is speeding along, knowing somehow he has to go back and stop Tarantulas, when he sees Scorponok and Terrorsaur in their new Transmetal vehicle modes, headed in the Ark’s direction, along with Tarantulas‘ Steel Tech proxy body. Waspinator isn’t particularly positive he can take both of them, even with his new body, so he decides to go look for “crazy fishie-bot” and hopes Depthcharge is somewhat more lucid now.
Back with Depthcharge and Dinobot, Rampage suddenly senses a familiarity between his own spark and Dinobot and realizes Dinobot’s shell is now possessed by STARSCREAM!
Guilty as charged, Dino-Scream shrugs. He’s been stuck in this time zone for a while and returned to the planet, but everyone’s left now. So he looked for the Nemesis (Hoping to find something there he can possess without damaging history) and found Dinobot II’s ravaged, sparkless shell. Possessing that and healing its injuries, Starscream set out for the Ark next.
Before anything can be done, Waspinator finds them, telling them (as best as he can) about Tarantulas’ plan to destroy the Ark and what not.
Depthcharge and Starscream don’t want to be erased from history, so they agree to help (Rampage even finds it interesting).
Faux-Tarantulas, Scorponok and Terrorsaur arrive at the Ark, and the latter two fight their way through Teletraan-1’s automated defenses (which come out of “sleep mode”). Faux-Tarantulas hangs back.
But by the time they make it through, Waspinator, Dino-Scream, and Depthcharge/Rampage arrive.
We have a three-on-three battle. Scorponok fights Depthcharge/Rampage (Scorpy’s new Transmetal body is bigger than his old one and almost a match for Depthcharge, even with the new ferocity that Rampage’s presence in his mind gives him). Scorponok angsts over his abandonment by Megatron while they fight. Terrorsaur fights the groundbound Starscream/Dinobot II (Starscream grumbles that this body sucks cuz it can’t fly) and manages to actually hold it off, as Starscream is unaccustomed to fighting like this.
Waspinator faces off against the Steel Tech Drone, and despite some initial trepidation, realizes he’s far more powerful now than any drone and takes the faux-Tarantulas down easily once his confidence is up.
Meanwhile, the zombie Vok-possessed Tigerhawk arrives at Tarantulas’s lair, runs roughshod over the meager defenses, and destroys the Tarantulas’ hard drive/AI for good.
This causes the neural implants in Scorponok and Terrorsaur to fail, and they stop fighting now that they are no longer under Tarantulas’ will.
Confused at what is going on, everyone leaves the Ark. The Vok-possessed zombie Tigerhawk arrives.
First order of business is noticing Dinobot II. The Vok declare (The Transmetal II clone body) an “abomination” and perversion of their technology. (Starscream’s like “Whoa, wait a minute!”)
The Vok incinerate Dinobot II’s shell in a blast of lightning from Tigerhawk. We don’t see what happens to Starscream’s spark.
The Vok explain that the constant interference with the timeline has TO STOP, and tells everyone to get the hell off the planet.
Of course, everyone is like “uh, HOW?”
The Vok tells everyone to go into Earth orbit. They will self-destruct Tigerhawk’s remains, with the release of alien energies ripping a Transwarp wormhole that’ll send everyone back to the right era.
Everyone of course is like “But…how do we get home from the middle of space?”
And the Vok of course are like “We don’t care, you’re going back to your rightful place in history or we’ll just kill you here and dump you there”
So everyone engages flight modes and follows Zombie-Tigerhawk up into space. They stand back and the Vok do as they promised, detonating Tigerhawk’s shell and making a wormhole. Everyone flies through in a flash, the Vok take their leave with some end dialogue about cleaning up some more small glitches or whatever.
Everyone arrives in the middle of space, nowheresville. Depthcharge isn’t hanging with these “Preds” anymore and “Besides, I’ve got enough company as it is”. He flies off into the nothingness of space, deciding to either find a way to deal with living with Rampage…or destroying them both.
Waspinator and Scorponok get into an argument about which direction Cybertron is, which ends in Waspinator engaging his jet mode and flying off alone. Scorponok sighs and goes in the opposite direction, asking if Terrorsaur is coming.
Terrorsaur (who hasn’t said a word since they left Earth) just widely grins and unseen to Scorponok, we see the ghost of Starscream possessing Terrorsaur’s frame. “Sure thing, pal.” He follows Scorponok.
END.
Notes-
*Inferno and Quickstrike…well, seeing as Quickstrike’s head was hollowed out and made into a mask, I think they’re a little harder to swallow as still alive.
*I kinda tried to do the exact opposite of what the Botcon comics did…bring Tigerhawk back (albeit a Vok-possessed zombie) instead of Tigatron and Airazor.
*When the zombie Tigerhawk destroys the Tarantulas AI core, depending on preference, we can have him say “You last bit of Unicron” or some such, depending if everyone agrees on Tarantulas’s origins.
*I have Starscream possessing Dinobot’s shell and later Terrorsaur, trying to avoid the clichéd possessing of Transmetal Waspinator.
#Transformers#Beast Wars - Second Chances#Maccadam#Beast Wars#Daniel Olsén#Seb#Ed Pirrie#Loke Mei Yin#James Ferrand#Jeremy Tiongson#Matt Frank#official creator#Dinobot#Depth Charge#Rampage#Waspinator#Inferno#Quickstrike#Tarantulas#Terrorsaur#Snarl
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"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—
"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."
Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."
(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)
"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."
Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.
Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"
"Hey—!"
Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."
Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"
"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."
"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?
"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."
"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"
-- -- -- -- --
Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.
But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.
And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.
A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.
Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!
So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.
#long post#fanfiction#algie writes things#fjskdlfjdk SORRY ABOUT THIS BUT#i had to i had tooooooo#hammered this out v quickly and i am feelin v sleeby still so it's not polished but it IS funny#.......i think. i think it's funny. u kno.#anyway#sexymanotd#tumblr sexyman rematch#cecilsweep
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how does it feel to carry the hinny fandom on your back?? bc you eat up these fics every time 😍😍😍
If I can contribute to the survival of my OTP then I will have done my job. I know this is not at all what you meant, but using this as an opportunity to shout out some of my very favorite fics also carrying the hinny torch:
I love anything by @starlingflight, but particularly:
Bewitched - Spooky Halloween, Muggle (kind of) AU.
Someone Else's Life - I LOVE the characterization in this one, and it's tied up in a really interesting Auror case
Priorities - THIS IS CANON TO ME. Missing HBP moment.
Fallin' All In You & Everything I Wanted - THE definitive missing moments fics - the leadup to and the entirety of hinny's too-short canon relationship. THEY ARE EVERYTHING TO ME.
@takeariskao3 READ HER STUFF, HER HINNY ANGST MAKES ME FEEL SO MUCH:
It's a Match! - Muggle AU, textfic, excellent characterization
my hand's at risk (i fold) - I didn't think anything could make me pro slytherin!Harry but THIS DID. Inter-house quidditch rivalries
Spring Fever - Omegaverse, enter at your own risk but the characterization is chef's kiss. (ngl I had no idea what this meant when I started reading)
The Path From You - Hinny second chances AU. The PINING. The characterization. The mystery. Bodyguard AU sort of??
Already Gone - currently being reworked and re-uploaded but cannot go without mentioning, bc it's that good. Hinny amnesia fic. Keep an eye out
@whinlatter is a mad genius:
Beasts - Ginny's 7th year, canon compliant. SUCH a good character study and deep dive into Ginny, and tbh the most realistic portrayal of the year post war I've ever read. Great hinny moments, their relationship feels so real.
the room at the top of the house - missing Beasts moment but tbh works as a standalone, it's so good.
think/hope - HBP/DH missing moments, post hinny breakup. Has anyone made hinny angst more beautiful? I think not.
Orchards - THE Hinny 6th year summer fic, like it could not be more perfect.
Others you should check out
JSYK ILY by @brightlybound - such a cute textfic that I fell in love with, Muggle AU.
everything i am is yours by @brightlybound again - Muggle AU, childhood friends(ish), so heartwarming and adorable
Persist and resist the temptation to ask you by @nuatthebeach - I'm such a sucker for a childhood friends to lovers fic and this takes the cake
The In-Betweens by @honeydukesheroine - Missing HBP moments, could be canon
@floreatcastellumposts has so many moments I love in her Missing Hogwarts Moments series
I'm sure there are so many others that I'm forgetting at the moment. Pls feel free to reblog & add your favorites too, make it a hinny love fest.
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PLEASE PART TWO OF THAT NICO DI ANGELO FIC
I'm not even a fan nor do I know anything about the PJO series but that.. THAT fic makes me wanna start reading it
Sword Fighting Pt. 2 (Nico Di Angelo x Son of Aphrodite)
Part 1 can be found here, however, you don't need to read it to understand this.
tags: love confessions, Nico being overprotective, near-death experience, takes place during The Blood of Olympus, reader is injured (badly)
Time was something demigods rarely had, and Nico di Angelo had lived long enough to know that it always slipped through their fingers. He never planned to reveal his feelings for you, the son of Aphrodite, but as Gaea rose from her slumber and the earth itself raged in the final battle, regret gnawed at him.
He should’ve told you.
The battlefield was a maelstrom of chaos—monsters falling, demigods fighting with every last bit of strength they had left. The air was thick with dust and the stench of death, but through it all, Nico’s eyes sought you. You moved like a whirlwind, graceful and deadly, wielding your twin blades with a skill that defied your heritage.
Even now, in the heart of war, there was a terrible beauty to how you fought—fluid, precise, unstoppable. Nico's breath hitched as he watched you, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the battle around him. He had seen many things in his life—gods, monsters, and the depths of the Underworld—but he'd never seen anything as beautiful as you.
For a moment, it seemed like the battle was turning in their favor. The monsters were thinning, their numbers dwindling under the combined might of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. Nico’s heart pounded with a glimmer of hope. Maybe—just maybe—they had a chance.
Then it happened.
As the demigods paused to catch their breath, thinking they had won, a final foe—enormous, armored, and ancient—rose from the shadows, roaring with fury. The beast lunged, aiming straight for Hazel, its jagged weapon raised for a killing blow.
You didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, you threw yourself between the beast and Hazel. Nico saw it as if in slow motion—how your eyes flashed with determination and your blade shone in the sun as you swung to kill the beast before a sickening crunch echoed across the battlefield. You had saved Hazel, but you had also been stuck, crumpling to the ground, your blood spilling across the earth.
“No!” Nico’s voice tore through the chaos, a raw cry filled with panic and horror. He barely felt his feet moving as he sprinted toward you. He reached your side in what felt like an eternity, falling to his knees beside you. Blood stained through your armor, dark and thick, pooling beneath your body. Your face was pale, lips quivering as you struggled to draw breath.
“Nico…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, eyes fluttering.
“No, no, no stay with me.” Nico pleaded, his hands trembling as he pressed them against your wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Around him, the other demigods rushed to your side—they moved quickly, but it felt agonizingly slow to Nico. The son of Aphrodite was barely conscious as Percy and Jason lifted him gently, careful not to jostle his broken form too much.
Hazel, pale with guilt and worry, led the way back to the makeshift camp they had set up behind the front lines. It was a patch of relative calm amidst the chaos of war, but Nico’s heart hammered in his chest like a storm.
“Will!” Nico screamed, his voice tight with fear. The blond healer turned around and paled upon seeing your state—ushering Percy and Jason to lay you in an empty bed.
“This is bad,” Will muttered, his voice hushed, trying to keep his composure as he assessed your chest. He pressed a glowing hand to your wound, his brow furrowed in concentration, but he shook his head slightly. “The weapon must’ve been enchanted—it’s deeper than it looks, and it’s not healing like it should.”
Nico’s throat tightened. “You can heal it though, right? You have to.”
Will glanced at Nico, his expression shadowed with doubt. “I don’t know, Nico. This kind of wound…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’ll do everything I can.” His grip on your hand tightened as Will began his work, the faint golden glow of healing energy surrounding your body, but Nico could tell it wasn’t enough.
Hours passed, and Will pushed himself to the limit, alternating between ambrosia, nectar, and healing magic, trying everything he knew. But still, your breathing was shallow, and the wound stubbornly refused to fully close. Nico stayed by your side the entire time, refusing to move, barely blinking as he watched every flicker of your face for a sign of improvement.
The others came and went—between the battle's cleanup and burning of shrouds—they all offered words of comfort, but Nico barely registered them. His world had narrowed to the cot where you lay, your face pale and peaceful as if already slipping into the void.
Days blurred together. Each dawn brought a renewed wave of dread, as Nico feared you wouldn’t wake up. Every breath you took seemed a miracle, but it wasn’t enough. Ambrosia was fed to you sparingly, Will careful not to overuse it. Every time you twitched or murmured in your sleep, Nico’s heart leapt, only to sink again when you didn’t stir beyond that.
He never left your side.
“Nico you need to rest,” Will urged gently, exhaustion lining his own features. “You’ve been here for days. You can’t keep going like this.”
Nico shook his head. “I’m not leaving him.”
Will opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He knew better than to push Nico. The look in his eyes—dark, haunted—was enough to silence any protest. He had seen that look before, in the faces of those who had lost too much already, those who were on the edge of breaking. “Okay.” Will said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Nico’s shoulder before stepping out of the tent. His footsteps faded, leaving the ghost king alone in the dimly lit space.
Nico leaned forward, resting his forehead on the back of your hand. His body was heavy with exhaustion, every muscle aching from his own battle wounds and malnutrition, not having eaten anything in days, but he couldn't leave. Nico wouldn't. The thought of walking away, even for a moment, felt like abandonment—like if he left your side, you might slip away for good. And that…that was something Nico couldn’t bear.
“I convinced myself there was time to tell you how I felt,” Nico said, his voice cracking, each word feeling like it was pulled from a wound too deep to close. “But now…now it might be too late.”
His breath hitched, and he squeezed your hand tighter, as if holding onto you physically would stop you from slipping away. He could feel the faint warmth of your skin, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel real—none of this did. You were so still, your chest rising and falling with shallow, labored breaths. The strong, brilliant demigod he admired—no, loved—reduced to this fragile, fading presence in the cot before him.
Nico swallowed hard, the ache in his chest nearly unbearable. "I should’ve told you the moment I realized. I should’ve been braver. But I was scared. Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same, or worse—that if I let you in, you’d leave me. Like Bianca did."
The name hung heavy in the air, thick with old grief. His sister. His rock. The one person who had ever made him feel less alone—until you came along. Losing her had shattered him in ways he’d never fully recovered from, and the thought of losing you now? It was a nightmare he couldn’t endure.
“I couldn’t handle it,” Nico whispered, his voice trembling as the confession spilled out. “If you leave me, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. Not again. I’m not strong enough to go through that again.”
The dam broke, and the words came faster, more desperate. “I swear, if you die on me, I’ll follow you. I don’t care what Will or anyone says. I’ll follow you to Elysium if I have to." He pressed his forehead against the back of your hand, his body shaking with the effort of holding back tears. "I love you. I should’ve said it before. I love you, and I’m not ready to let you go."
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Nico stayed perfectly still, the weight of his confession hanging between you, the silence around him thick and unbearable. Then, faintly, a shift—a movement so small Nico almost didn’t notice it. Your fingers twitched beneath his.
His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head in disbelief. A soft, rasping sound reached his ears. “Nico…” His heart lurched. Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and filled with pain, but undeniably alive. You coughed weakly, wincing at the movement, but your lips curled into a faint smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Nico froze, staring at you as if you were a ghost. The relief hit him so suddenly that he couldn’t breathe. “You’re awake…” His voice was barely a whisper, disbelief coloring every word.
Your smile widened just a fraction, though it was strained with effort. “You didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?”
Nico’s relief was overwhelming, but it didn’t come without an edge of something sharper. Anger, bitter and cold, began to surface as he stared at you, still fragile but alive. The thought of how close you came to dying—how close he came to losing you—made his chest tighten painfully.
He pulled back, his expression hardening, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “What the hell were you thinking!? You nearly died out there!”
You blinked, still groggy but more aware now, and gave a weak smile. “Someone had to, right?” you rasped, trying to lighten the tension, but Nico wasn’t having it.
“That’s not the point!” Nico’s voice was louder than he intended, eyes burning with something between fury and heartbreak. “You could’ve died. You almost did."
Your smile widened, even as you winced at the effort. “You would’ve done the same thing,” you said, your voice hoarse but filled with that infuriating calmness. “If it had been you, and Hazel was in danger, you wouldn’t have hesitated.”
Nico froze, his jaw clenching as the truth of your words settled over him. He wanted to argue, to shout at you for being reckless and careless with your life, but he couldn’t. You were right, and that only made it worse. If the roles were reversed, Nico knew, deep down, that he would’ve done exactly the same thing.
You smirked at his silence, clearly pleased with yourself. “See?” you said softly, your voice still weak but playful. “I know you, di Angelo.”
Nico scowled, but his anger was already slipping away, replaced by something warmer, something he couldn’t quite name but felt deep in his bones. He didn’t reply to your teasing, didn’t trust himself to say anything without his emotions spilling over again. Instead, he just shook his head and muttered, “You’re impossible.”
You laughed, though it quickly turned into a pained cough. Nico’s heart clenched again, his worry returning in full force. “I don’t care what you think,” He said after a moment, his voice quieter now, but still laced with intensity. “Next time, don’t throw your life away for anyone. Not Hazel. Not even me.”
You met his gaze, your smile softening. “I won’t.” you said, though the glint in your eyes told him you were lying. Nico didn’t reply to that. He knew you too well—knew that your words were empty promises. But for now, you were alive, and that was all that mattered.
#x male reader#male reader#nico di angelo x male reader#nico di angelo#nico di angelo x you#nico di angelo x reader#percy pjo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#percy series#percy and annabeth#thalia#annabeth chase#sally jackson#annabeth#grover percy jackson#grover underwood#grover pjo#pjo fandom#pjo#pjo series#heroes of olympus#jason grace#thalia grace#thalia pjo#thalia and jason#percy#reyna#house of hades#piper mclean
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Seeing people talking about the tension between Wild and Warriors, and something just clicked.
In his journey, Wild was forced to work and explore alone. Like, yeah, he temporarily works with Riju, Sidon, Yunobo, and Teba to get to the Divine Beasts, but other than that? He only has himself to depend on, he's only responsible for his own safety and wellbeing. Whereas Warriors fought in a war surrounded by people. He was forced to be responsible for so many lives, but it taught him the importance of teamwork and that he could rely on others.
This shows in how they act in a team, and how they interact with others and the dungeon: Wild is ready to go off and explore everything by himself, leave everyone behind and throw caution to the wind. Because that's what worked for him on his journey, that's how he figured out the world around him and made it through his adventure. But Wars has no experience like this, he only knows teamwork and takes a slower approach. He thinks of plans, and asks questions to get a good idea of what exactly might happen so that he can reduce damage. Because that's probably how he operated in the War, and that's the point of reference he has.
So they're complete opposites in that regard.
Not to mention, Wars is still pissed at Wild for diregarding the plan and beating up Dink. That's the first indication of just how different their experiences were, and who knows? Maybe Warriors expected Wild to know better, considering his past life as a soldier. Maybe that's why he might hold Wild to a higher standard. He probably subconsciously sees Wild as a soldier under his command who's disobeying orders and putting lives at stake, and treating him as such because he knows the danger of when that happens. And part of Wild probably sees Wars as a commander, someone he must obey or fear, though he may not fully realise because of his amnesia. Or maybe he sees Wars as a threat to the freedom his second chance at life has granted him? Someone that could send him back to being that stone cold soldier boy who needs to be perfect?
I don't know, I can't say anything for certain. I'm just rambling vague ideas.
#tloz#linked universe#lu#legend of zelda#sleepy rambles#lu analysis#lu warriors#lu wild#again i have no real proof other than vibes#don't take my word for it
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