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entitled-fangirl · 1 month ago

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Sweet nephew.

Gwayne Hightower x wife!reader; One-sided love from Aemond

Summary: Gwayne's wife is the epitome of everything Aemond was never given as a child- a sweet voice, a caring hand, and a comforting presence. He grows a love for her, and Gwayne's pissed.

A/n: This is unlike anything I've ever written and I have mixed emotions but oh well. It's the forced smile in the Gwayne gif for me

Masterlist

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"Hello, sweet nephew."

Aemond's attention immediately shifted to his aunt.

Y/n stepped into the library, moving to Aemond's side. Her hand reached out and ran through his hair, "What are you reading?"

"Mere histories, dear aunt."

"You've always been well studied, my prince."

He leaned back to look at her. "Did mother send you?"

She let out a playful scoff, "Am I just a mere raven to you?"

"No," he quickly defended.

"No," she smiled. "Your mother did not send me. I came to borrow a book."

He stood, "Allow me to help you."

"No need, Aemond. I can find it," she offered.

"Please, Lady Hightower. Let me do this."

She nodded, "That would be nice."

As he stood and walked around one of the many shelves. "Tell me about Old Town."

"It is without change. Your brother has been wonderful."

"And Gwayne?"

She smiled, "Gwayne has always been wonderful."

He didn't miss the light in her eyes, "And how long do you plan to stay?"

She shrugged lightly, "As long as my husband needs me here."

"The war could last years. Old Town will suffer without you two."

"He may send me home before then. My father-by-law, excuse me, your grandsire, should be there by now for Daeron."

Aemond reached up, grabbing one of the books for his aunt, handing it to her, "Hopefully so."

She took it, opening the cover to the first page, "This will do. Thank you, nephew."

"Of course."

She closed the book and held it in the crook of her arm, "I shall see you at supper then?"

Aemond hummed, "Yes."

She smiled and pushed herself to her tip-toes, kissing his forehead.

The prince watched her walk away, a curious look coming across his face.

…

"Ser Gwayne," a steady voice uttered over the courtyard.

Gwayne turned, seeing the Prince confidently moving towards him. "My prince. How many I be of assistance?"

Aemond walked up to his uncle, "I dare ask for a bit of your wisdom."

Gwayne's brow quirked up in surprise, "I see."

He watched as Aemond's eye moved to the other side of the courtyard, admiring Gwayne's wife.

There she sat on her knees, playing with her and Gwayne's young son.

A protective feeling came over the man and he was eager to get the attention away from her, "What was it you needed exactly, my prince?"

Aemond's eye slowly snapped back to Gwayne. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

The two men looked back to the woman.

Y/n let out a laugh as her son jumped into her arms, knocking her over.

"You're happily married, dear uncle."

"I am."

Aemond shifted his weight to his other leg, "How?"

Gwayne's brows lifted as he considers the man's question, "My wife is a copy of the Mother. I have been truly blessed to have her at my side."

He noticed how his nephew's confusion never lifted, so he continued to speak. "I married for love, my prince. Not all men have that honor."

"No, they don't," Aemond said. "However, it was no disgrace for you to marry her."

"Never," he agreed. "She's from a noble house."

"She loves you greatly."

Gwayne nodded, "Indeed." He finally had enough, "You wish to marry for love, Prince Aemond? Is that it?"

Aemond hummed, "Something of that sort."

"Gwayne?" Her voice interrupted.

The two men turned to her as she approached them.

Gwayne smiled and reached out to take his son in his arms, "What timing, dear wife. The prince was asking how I've gotten you all to myself." He leaned down at kissed her cheek before turning his attention to his son. "You've been good for your mother, yes?"

Their son giggled and shook his head.

Gwayne feigned shock. "No? Well, we cannot have that. Your mother is a saint."

She held her arms out, "It's time for his studies."

Gwayne held his son close. "I'll take him myself. Perhaps you can keep the Prince company until I return, hmm?"

Her eyes flickered between the two men. "Oh. Of course. If… If that is alright with our nephew."

Both Hightowers stared at him.

Aemond tilted his head side to side before a smirk came across his face. "I believe that shall be just fine."

Gwayne reached his free hand out to his wife's chin, forcing her to look up at him. "I'll return in a matter of minutes, dear wife."

With that, he let go of her and began to walk his son into the Keep.

They watched him disappear and an awkward silence permeated the air.

"I imagine," she finally said, "that this war has been unkind to you thus far."

Aemond was a bit thrown off by her kind thought but he couldn't help the scoff under his breath, "They seem to blame me for its beginning."

Her brows came together, "Yes, I heard of what happened. I can't imagine the guilt you felt…" she paused. "Still feel, I assume."

Aemond's expression grew to confusion. "You don't seem angry."

She shrugged and looked up at him sweetly. "I know you, Aemond. You wouldn't do that. You didn't mean to."

That look in her eyes broke something in him. The tough swordsman felt an oncoming of tears pricking at his eye.

She was understanding a part of him that no one else had dared try to.

"Oh, Aemond," she cooed at the sight of his watery eye. She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Every great warrior must have emotion. That's all that differentiates them from animals. And you, Aemond Targaryen," she spoke with assurance, "Are no animal. Let your tears fall, for I hold no judgment of you."

When they indeed began to fall, she noticed the deep blush in his cheeks due to the embarrassment of crying in the courtyard. She looked around and tugged his hand, pulling him to a corner more hidden away from prying eyes.

Once there, he pulled her against him and weeped into her shoulder. It was a strange sight to see the tall stern prince weep against his small aunt.

But regardless, she held him steadfast, softly cooing and running her hands through his hair as you would a child.

He clawed at the fabric of her dress, and soon his weeping finally coming to a stop.

He sniffled at the two dared not move.

She was worried of what he would do next. Would he push her away and reclaim his harsh exterior or would he let it fade into the background?

His head lifted just barely and a tension rose. Their faces were now inches apart.

She was just now aware of the implications of their position and a worried expression crossed her face.

She took a step back just as Aemond leaned further in to try to kiss her, resulting in the gap staying between them.

They both paused with surprised expressions. "Aemond, I'm not-"

"-Why?"

She hummed, a pattern that Aemond has picked up from her. "You're my nephew. I love you, yes, but not in that way."

His jaw set harshly. "Is that not what love is?"

"No. No, no, no. It's not always, Aemond. You're a wonderful nephew, but that is what you'll stay. I am beyond content with my husband."

His voice rose, "Then why do all of this? Why make me vulnerable? Does it make you feel powerful?" He scoffed.

Gwayne returned just then, with worse timing than ever. In all honestly, he had been standing in the courtyard for a while, witnessing with a cautious eye. He could read the silver-haired dragon rider better than most.

But only when Aemond made a move on his wife, did Gwayne interfere, running across the yard with a fierce anger as red as his hair.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, "Dear nephew, you've kept her safe for me, I see." The smile on his face was very forced, but he was good at hiding it.

Aemond's eye looked between the two. "I did."

"Wonderful. Let us go, woman."

Gwayne practically drug her from the courtyard.

Once through the doors, he hissed. "What happened out there?"

She was still dumbfounded by the entire situation. "I… I'm not sure. I didn't mean to, I promise you."

He rubbed his hands up and down her biceps as a sigh fell from his lips. "I know," he spoke softly. "I shouldn't be angry with you. I just… I can't stand seeing the way he was looking at you."

"The way he looked at me…?"

"It's the way I look at you. I don't want another man to ever look at you that way. I'm a jealous creature, my love."

"I am truly sorry, Gwayne. I'll fix this."

He shook his head, "You have no faults in this. Perhaps a talk with his uncle would help."

She shook her head and gripped his tunic. "No, no. That might anger him more."

Gwayne sighed again. "We'll handle it together. Yes?"

She nodded. "Yes. That's generous." She kissed his cheek. "Thank you, my love."

…

He tried to stay true to that promise until he saw his sister.

"You must control your own son!" He sneered through his teeth as he slammed the door behind him. "I'm tired of the rest of us being trotted upon like shit in a barn!"

"Gwayne, please," Alicent sighed. He hated how calm she was, but that was always her demeanor. She held a hand to her forehead. "Whatever Aegon has done, I can fix. Just let-"

"Not that one." He wanted to tear his hair out in frustration but he knew his wife would scold him for doing so. She loved his hair so much.

A bit of relief flooded over Alicent. "Oh." That then turned to more panic, realizing that while Aegon's problems were often, foolish, and naive, Aemond's were few, calculated, and always had dire effects.

"Your son has a love for my wife," Gwayne explained. "And I won't stand for it."

"What are you talking about?" Alicent asked in confusion.

"Aemond has taken advantage of my wife's kindness. He practically forced himself upon her in the courtyard after manipulating her into comforting him." He ran a hand through his hair. "It disgusts me."

"Gwayne, I'm sure this is a misunderstanding," she said with a forced smile. "Perhaps Y/n… led him on a bit."

His eyes almost came out of his head. For being a relatively calm man, he was growing angrier by the moment. "Do not say that again. My wife is a saint. You'll do well to remember that. If another move is made to her, you'll have no help in battle from this Hightower."

His words were final, a full threat she knew he'd hold to. Gwayne had a flair for dramatics, but threats and promises, no matter how outlandish, he stayed true to.

"What would you have me do?" Alicent asked him. Having a queen ask for council from a knight was a rare sight.

"Just…" He cursed under his breath and placed his hands on his hips. "Maybe ask yourself why he'd do such a thing."

"What are you implying, Gwayne?"

"My wife would not raise our son to do such a thing to a woman. Makes me wonder what you've done all these years."

Gwayne was a fierce protector, often doing so for his sister. But this was his last straw, and everyone was on the metaphorical chopping block in his mind.

…

During Gwayne's talk with his dear sister, Y/n had crept up to Aemond's chambers in hopes of apologizing.

She knocked thrice and heard nothing.

Pushing the door firmly, she saw Aemond curled up on his bed, still in his riding gear and his hair messy against the furs.

"Nephew?"

He shot up, his eye wide in realization, though puffy from tears that no one was supposed to see. Immediately embarrassment flooded his entire soul. "Come to gloat?" His hoarse voice echoed through the room.

"Hardly. I feel awful."

"I thought you'd be like her. Better, even," he whispered, though she was sure it was meant to be kept to himself, "but you're not like her at all."

"Who, sweet nephew?"

His eye widened once again, his entire body seemingly caving in on itself like a defense. He was running out of ways to shut her out. He said nothing.

"My mother was the most caring woman I knew," she began to explain in the silence. "She only wanted the best for her children, and she always had such a steady hand. It was so comforting." She picked at her nails, a habit she caught from one of the Hightowers. "I told myself I wanted to be just like her. Forgive me if my efforts to be comforting came across in a misleading fashion."

"Is that not what a wife does for her husband, though?" His vulnerable voice asked.

"Well, yes. But it's different," she explained. "I treat my husband and my son very differently."

"How?"

"Uh," she was unprepared to answer this question. "I'm responsible for teaching my son the right ways to live. To have him grow to be a great Hightower. But Gwayne is a man grown. I can't teach him things that he already knows. Nor should I have to."

"But you don't tell your son what to do," he pointed out.

"No," she said as if ridiculous. "He should get to explore the world and find things for himself. I only help him when he needs it."

"Mother has never done that."

Y/n's face paled. Suddenly everything was clicking into place.

"Aemond, your mother is surrounded by Targaryens with great dragons as a queen with no power. It's a scary thought for her. She doesn't know how to help you."

"But she does not try!" He exclaimed in frustration.

She let out a breath. "Perhaps so. But she does love you. In her own strange way." She brushes over his cheek. "You are a strong man yet, Aemond. And you'll have a wife soon enough."

"Just not you," he manages through a teary eye.

"No," she gives a small smile. "Not me."

He takes her hand from his cheek, giving a kiss to her knuckles. He took his time, truly savoring the soft skin of his dearest aunt. "May you and my uncle live full lives, by the will of the Seven."

…

She moved from the room, shutting the door behind her. She stepped down the corridor, almost running into her husband.

Gwayne grabbed her waist. "I've decided to speak to the prince."

Her hands rested on his chest. "There's no need. It has been handled."

"Handled?" He questioned. "How so?"

She shrugged lightly. "He... apologized."

Gwayne's brow furrowed. "Did he? That's… kind."

"Like a true gentleman," she added. No one really needed to know of his tears. "Where's our boy?"

"Should be done with his studies soon. We still have time though."

"Time for what?"

He tipped her head up to look at him. "I fear I don't admire my wife as much as I should."

"You know you do."

"No," he bent down and kissed her. "If I worshipped you every day, it still would not be enough. You're sought after by many in the Realm, it seems." He brushed her hair behind her ear. "But me, most of all."

"And you have me."

"Aye. That I do."

……………………………………………

#fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #gwayne hightower x you #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne x reader #gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #gwayne x you #house hightower #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x reader

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starkwlkr · 11 months ago

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hi i love your writing, i have a request could you imagine where ruby talks about being in love with a friend from school, and charles and ruby's uncles are protective and jealous and y/n laugh at the whole situation

the L word | charles leclerc

“Maman, when did you know you were in love?”

Y/n thought it was such a serious question for an eight year old to ask, but she answered the question anyway.

“Well the first time—”

“You can be in love more than once?”

Y/n chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Ruby, you can. Some people fall in love once, and other don’t.”

“Why?” The girl asked.

“It’s just how life is.”

That stuck with Ruby for a while. Her mother explained the concept of love to her. For being an eight year old, Ruby understood it quite well until she asked if being in love automatically means that you had to marry that person.

“Um . . Not necessarily. Not everyone that’s in love married each other.” Y/n explained.

“Why? They love each other. You and papa love each other and you’re married.” She stated.

“Well not everyone wants to get married. And it doesn’t really work like that. For example, I love you and Mathéo—”

“Don’t forget about Floppy.” Ruby interrupted.

“And Floppy, yes,” Y/n chuckled as the mentioned of the stuffed bunny. “I love my friends and family too. Do you get it?”

Ruby slowly nodded. “I think so. But maman, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“I think I’m in love.”

Y/n kept Ruby’s secret until Charles made it back to Monaco for the Grand Prix. Ruby had told her mother about her crush on a classmate from her piano class. Y/n thought it was adorable that her daughter had a crush unlike Charles who thought it was the end of the world.

“She’s too young! She’s my baby!” Charles spoke with Y/n as he got ready for the day. The Monaco Grand Prix was in a few days and he was already stressing about the race, now he had more to stress about.

“She’s eight, Charles. It’s just a little crush. You never had crushes as a kid?” Y/n asked, as she started to make the bed.

“I didn’t care about girls back then, I was too focused on racing.” He admitted. Y/n the stopped what she was doing and stared at him until he said the truth. “Okay, I had one crush, but she didn’t like me back! She liked some boy who stole my favorite pen from school.”

“Poor you.” Y/n chuckled then walked to the bathroom to start doing her hair, Charles walked in with her.

“But now I have the best wife who gave me the best children ever and hopefully she’ll give me more . .” Charles kissed his wife’s cheek repeatedly.

“Keep dreaming, Perceval. Maybe in the future. If we have more, imagine how you’re going to be when they start dating.”

“Oh god.”

After getting ready, the couple and the kids made it to the paddock. Usually, Ruby was energetic and loud, but her behavior that day changed. She was quiet and stayed with her mother holding her hand. When they walked into the Ferrari garage, Carlos was shocked to see a calm Ruby.

“Is she sick?” Carlos asked the parents.

“No, she’s fine she’s just nervous.” Y/n replied.

“Nervous for Charles or Ferrari?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Actually, she’s nervous for herself. The boy she has a crush on is coming to watch the race, which I’m not happy about so can we please talk about something else?”

“She has a crush? No, she’s too young!” Carlos whisper yelled.

“That’s what I said! Thank you!” Charles brought his teammate in for a hug.

“Unbelievable, come on kids. Let’s go find Aunt Kika.”

By the time it was time to do interviews, the whole grid seemed to know about Ruby’s crush and each of them reacted similar to Charles and Carlos. Since Ruby’s first paddock appearance, the grid loved her. She had them wrapped around her finger and they didn’t mind one bit.

“What’s his name? How old is he? Do I know his parents? Where does he live?”

“Calm down, Pierre, they’re eight.”

“I need to know who my niece likes! What if he’s not good enough for her? Ruby deserves the world.” Pierre told Y/n as the family and a couple of drivers sat in the Ferrari hospitality.

“They’re eight. Why are all of you on Charles’ side? They’re kids, they’re not going to get married tomorrow.” Kika added.

“I’m not on papa’s side. I’m here for ice cream!” Mathéo said as he continued eating the frozen treat.

“Thank you, Théo. Keep eating, baby.” Y/n kissed her son’s cheek.

“There’s a percentage of people that end up marrying the person they met in their childhood. Ruby could fall into that category.” Charles stated.

“You sound ridiculous right now. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. It’s cute, my childhood crush moved away to Canada or something.” Y/n said casually.

“Is it Lance?” Lando questioned.

“Mate, she said he moved to Canada, I’m pretty sure Lance was born there.” Carlos told Lando.

“Anyways . . . I suggest we keep Ruby in the Ferrari garage at all times then when the race finishes, we take her straight home and we all live happily ever after.” Charles proposed.

“Yeah, that seems dumb. But good luck finding her, she’s been with the boy from her piano class this whole time we’ve been talking. I think Fred is giving them a tour of the garage last I heard.”

#inbox <3 #anon #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine

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bodyswap005 · 13 days ago

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"Crossed Wishes at Christmas"

Benny was a typical seventeen-year-old teenager, immature and somewhat stubborn. He was always in conflict with his parents, who insisted on keeping rules he considered absurd. His biggest frustration was not having the freedom to make his own decisions, especially when it came to hanging out with his friends or attending parties.

Although his life wasn’t particularly complicated, Benny felt trapped in a limbo between childhood and adulthood. His days were filled with school, video games, and attempts to catch the attention of a girl in his class he liked. However, behind his confident facade, Benny often felt insecure, desperately wishing to grow up and be treated like an adult.

In his family, Benny viewed the adults with a certain resentment, especially his uncle Valentín, the husband of his aunt Nath. While Valentín always seemed kind, Benny considered him boring, a man stuck in the responsibilities and monotony of adult life.

Valentín, forty-two years old, was an educated, calm, and reserved man. He had built a stable life with his wife Nath, but under that orderly and mature appearance hid a series of regrets that had haunted him since his youth.

During his adolescence, Valentín had grown up in a strict household where his parents controlled every aspect of his life. This had led him to suppress many of his emotions and desires, including his sexual orientation. He never allowed himself to be completely free, and although he had learned to live with that emptiness, he secretly wished he had made better use of his youth.

For Valentín, adulthood was a burden he bore with resignation. He envied his nephew Benny’s carefree attitude, although he also considered him an immature young man who couldn't appreciate what he had. Yet, beneath that criticism lay an unspoken connection: both shared the desire to live something different, though from opposite extremes.

Unknowingly, both were destined to discover what it truly meant to walk in the other’s shoes. And that Christmas, their wishes would change their lives forever.

From Benny’s perspective Christmas Eve had never been my favorite day. This year, even less. Everyone was in a good mood, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the party I was missing. My parents, with their absurd rules, had decided it was better to spend it with family than let me be with my friends. It wasn’t fair. I was seventeen, tired of being treated like a child, and on top of that, my Uncle Valentín kept looking at me as if all this was just a childish tantrum.

"When you’re an adult, you’ll see that this isn’t so important," he said in a patronizing tone that drove me crazy. I ignored him and focused on the one exciting part of the night: the moment to make a wish.

When it was my turn, I closed my eyes and made it with all my might: I want to be an adult. I want to stop following absurd rules.

From Valentín’s perspective I watched my nephew Benny as he made his wish by the tree. His frustration reminded me so much of myself at his age. But unlike him, I never dared to rebel. I always obeyed, always did what was expected of me, and that cost me living my adolescence and youth the way I truly wanted. I was a forty-two-year-old man trapped in a life that wasn’t entirely mine.

When it was my turn, I closed my eyes and wished for something I’d never say out loud: I want to be young again. I want another chance to live without fear.

From Benny’s perspective Christmas morning came with little excitement. I went downstairs, expecting the gifts I knew I would get: a new video game, probably some clothes, and maybe some money. But then I noticed a strange package, wrapped in shiny paper with a perfect red bow.

"Is this from you?" I asked my parents, lifting it curiously. They shook their heads, just as surprised as I was.

I went upstairs to my room with the package, eager to discover what it contained. When I opened it, I found clothes that weren’t for me: shirts, pants, even a yoga short. At the bottom, there was a note: "Sometimes, a new reflection shows you what you really need." I ignored it, thinking someone had made a mistake, but something about the clothes intrigued me.

From Valentín’s perspective Christmas at home with Nath was pleasant but routine. While she opened her gifts, my thoughts wandered until I noticed a strange package under the tree. The label simply read: "For Valentín."

I opened the gift, expecting something from her, but what I found left me confused: youthful clothes that weren’t my style or size. There were basic t-shirts, skinny jeans, and a pair of sneakers. Inside the box, a note read: "What you desire, you already have in front of you, but are you ready to take it?"

When I asked Nath if it was from her, she denied it with a puzzled smile. Something about the gift made me nervous, but I couldn’t resist the curiosity.

From Benny’s perspective I decided to try on the clothes, even though it didn’t make sense. I put on a dress shirt and some pants that were a bit too big. I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine how I would look as an adult.

Suddenly, a strange sensation spread through my body. My legs grew weak, and a suffocating heat rose from my chest. I felt my arms and torso expand, my face changing. When I finally looked up, I saw something that chilled me to the bone: my Uncle Valentín’s face was staring back at me.

From Valentín’s perspective After hesitating for a while, I decided to try on the t-shirt and jeans. Although I felt ridiculous, I looked at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine what it would be like to be young again.

Then, a strange tingling started in my fingers and spread throughout my body. I felt my skin tighten, my height shrink, and my muscles transform. When it was over, I looked up and saw a teenager in the mirror. A teenager with my nephew Benny’s face.

From both points of view In our respective rooms, we looked at ourselves in the mirror, stunned. Benny, trapped in my Uncle Valentín’s body, touched the beard that now covered his face, unable to believe what was happening. Valentín, fascinated by his new smooth skin and youthful hair, smiled in disbelief.

"This can’t be happening," we muttered in unison. But it was. We had changed.

From Benny’s perspective

I was sitting on the bed, looking at the unfamiliar hands that were now mine. They were big, rough, and had a couple of scars I didn’t recognize. Every time I looked up at the mirror, I saw my Uncle Valentín’s face staring back at me with eyes full of confusion. It felt surreal, like being trapped in an absurd science fiction movie.

The phone’s ring broke my trance. When I answered, I heard my own voice on the other end of the line, but it wasn’t me talking. It was my Uncle Valentín, now trapped in my body.

"Benny, it’s me... your Uncle Valentín. We need to talk."

The conversation was awkward at first, with long pauses and hesitations, but we eventually broke the ice. He explained that he was also dealing with the shock, and that it was urgent we meet to understand what was happening.

"For now, I can’t explain this to Nath… to your aunt," Valentín sighed. "It’s too surreal. But we need to talk in person."

"My aunt Nath? My wife now?" I replied, feeling a knot in my stomach. The idea of being married to my own aunt was horrifying. "This is... this is a nightmare."

We both agreed that this had something to do with the wishes we made the night before. But why us? Why our bodies? These were unanswered questions, and the only clear thing was that we needed to talk face to face. Valentín promised he’d be here in a few minutes.

From Valentín’s perspective Leaving the house without Nath suspecting anything was tricky. I told her I was going for a walk to clear my mind, and although she seemed a little suspicious, she didn’t insist. I took the opportunity to leave the house.

On my way to Benny’s house, something unexpected happened. A young guy, probably one of his friends, recognized me. Well, he recognized Benny… or rather, Benny’s body.

"Hey, Benny! Are you coming to the gathering today? We could have some fun, you know?" he said with a tone I could only interpret as flirtatious.

My heart raced. Was this normal in my nephew’s life? I forced a smile, trying to act like he would. "I’m not sure. Maybe... we’ll see."

The guy nodded and waved goodbye, while I continued my way, a mix of discomfort and curiosity running through me. It was strange to receive that kind of attention, but also… exciting, in a way. I shook my head to focus on what mattered: meeting with Benny and figuring this out.

From Benny’s perspective While I waited, I tried to stay quiet so my parents wouldn’t notice anything odd. The idea of someone coming in and seeing me in this body was terrifying. To distract myself, I looked at the mirror and observed every detail.

My Uncle Valentín’s body was more imposing than I had imagined. His arms were strong, his torso well-defined, and there were tattoos hidden in unexpected places. I didn’t know him well enough to imagine he had that rebellious side. Had he been a heartthrob in his youth? I wondered.

Suddenly, the door opened, and there I was... well, my body, but with Valentín inside. We both stayed silent for a moment, just staring at each other. It was like seeing a bizarre version of ourselves in third person.

"This... is crazy," I finally said, breaking the silence.

"No crazier than the fact that now I have your life, and you have mine," Valentín replied.

We both sat down, trying to process the impossible. We had swapped bodies, and our lives were completely upside down.

#body swap #transformation #Suit #age regression #fantasy #male body swap

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melaninfury · 1 month ago

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Astrology Harsh Opinions

Please don’t take this as astrological facts. These are more my experience and perspective. The whole chart and aspects must also be considered.

- one things for certain and two things for sure if there is cancer in the first house or especially the sun side. I know you are a road rager and you need to stop.

- Yes, Libra placements you are people pleasing even when you’re trying to please yourself.

- I second this if you have personal planets like Moon, Venus, Mercury and Mars in the Seventh house. Just please choose yourself first and stop trying to make your identity being a savior.

-Scorpios are you done being my way or the highway about important deep, compromising issues in love? Let your toxic internal ways go and let people accept you not enable muah 💋

- Aries, you know that anger and motivation are not passionate ways to solve your emotional problems. Please feel deeper and unlike a two year old child 🙇🏽‍♀️ (movement can be still and internal)

- Libra Venus always wear or do something socially adorable. Poole either love their nails, shoes clothes, love life or simply even their furniture in the house. Y’all have aesthetic.

- Virgos and intense Virgo placements like Virgo mars in the 6th house or having planets at Virgo degrees. I always notice this connection to animals or pet companions. They have this understanding of pets being of service to its owner. So for example I noticed they always have a lifelong pet or multiple pets that become apart of their life not just an accessory. Their houses will be filled with the existence of their pet companion.I do think that being that the 6th house, rules over pets and acts of service virgos (depends how aspects and house at the end of the day) usually like or animals like them in some way. This is the person who always loves to hold their friends pets or feels like an aunt or uncle to others fur babies. Will pet animals on the street.

- I personally think voiceover astrological readings are wayyyyy more thorough and detailed than written or typed ones. But to each its on your learning something you know.

- Yes Sagittarius placements are the hidden people pleasers. Very outwardly focus. You want your thoughts to matter and who you are in the world to matter but in a way where it leads others. It’s a way to be validated but also validated for what they want not just what people like about them. They would rather instead of being called pretty and nice to be seen as a leader and wise (maybe both). If you value their opinions and let them be friendly to you. You’ll see they care very deeply about being validated not as free as a stereotypical sag sun sign but let it be in the 9th house or especially a Sag Moon. They want to be validated on a philosophical level mentally they please to know their worth, not just to be seen and in a relationship.

-I’m sorry but most people with Scorpio mars get around…sorry. Y’all always are sneaking and having some ACTIVE 👀 experiences in their life. Usually always moving with desires, one they connect on a spiritual or deep level they attach quick. So if their still talking to people or in a relationship I find them to wander when their spirit and deep level desires fade and have served their purpose. They also are just very passionate. They feel even when they don’t know how to flow or deal with their emotions. You will know if these people want you or especially want to F you. Trust me you will know.

- Virgos and Leos always skeptical and unbelieving in astrology but the first one to cry or want a reading when you prove them wrong.

- Why does everyone use astrology for fame and beauty all the time or want to look at the surface level of synastry?Let me elaborate, you say you want to know if you're gonna be famous? Why do you not have a career or a focus in mind. Hell why are you wanting to learn astrology but you refuse to study or look up different interpreters. Most information you all see is accessible if you are so hell bent on being what you think you are. First start with who are you and what makes you likable. If your so concerned if Timmy likes you, why don't you just google, study all aspects and pull up the composite, etc.

-Moon mars Synastry is a dupe. They either hate you or are entirely too handsy. But if you're lucky you are not just compatible but in tune with each other. You become intermingled into emotions spirit and creativity together. You will look good together or be good in theory but these two plants must merge peaceful. If your Synastry is chaotic or aspects conflict you will have some strong elusive emotions towards each other or one is surely to suffer if you let the dynamic play out for too long.

- Moon conjunct Uranus natal, especially if one or more planet is retrograde. Who never loved your parents and made them never show love and affection properly to you. Please figure that out before you internalize...

- Bro I don’t get jealous but if I did I would be jealous of Venus moon conjunction in general or in Libra. Y’all dress so nice, always look put together. There is style there and it’s usually distinct even if it’s not unique. You look good okay 🤷🏾‍♀️

- Sneaky sneaky Aquarius, always playing detached when you’re really psychologically (psychopathiclly) calculated and emotional. Water bearers I mean. Guard your emotions all you want. I and the rest can see you care through your actions. Even when you pretend you don’t. And revenge is still trying to emotionally hurt people!

- Water signs…yeah you question. What do you think about telling the truth just to be a good person. No need to think of pros and cons or what you’ll get out of it before. Simply just be brutally ✨ honest ✨

#astrology #synastry #persona chart #composite sun #birth chart #paid astrology #advanced astrology #astrology readings #astro community #astro placements #astro observations #astroblr #astro notes #harsh opinions #astrology opinions #spiritual services #spiritual healing #spiritually #spirituality

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toothfa-1-ry · 3 months ago

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BETWEEN OTHER SPIDER(S) -tasm! Spiderman

The other Peter was nothing like the one you knew back at home, but that didn't mean that you disliked him

Set in spiderman no way home

PAIRING: tasm!spider man x spider spiderwoman reader

A/N: Super rushed idk I didn't know how to end it :<

do I really have to do this? Whatever, let's just get it over with

My name is y/n l/n, and I'm from another, another, another dimension

I was also bitten by a radioactive spider and for the past 7 years, I've been spiderwoman

The rest is pretty simple actually, you guys know the jist

I went to school, got a pretty mad degree and modelled for an art class, where I met one of my bestfriend who introduced me to my other bestfriend.

I saved a ton of people, but I also couldn't save the alot of others

I saved one of my best friend, harry, but I couldn't save my other best friend's girlfriend and uh- now we don't talk anymore..

Then suddenly, one day.. this weird thing happens- this golden yellowish circle thingy pops up out of nowhere in front of me and suddenly I'm not at my apartment anymore, I'm in front of apparently 2 highschoolers and 2 other spiders.

"and now I'm infront of another highschooler who also turns out to be another spider" there's a unusual simplicity to your voice as you end your sentence with a slight sigh

The teenage boy in front of you was obviously not okay. He went through some stuff and even though you had no idea what they were at the moment, you knew what it felt like to feel like that

"i- I'm going to kill him" his voice is shaky "I swear I'm gonna kill him..aunt may- he killed au t may"

The boy's eyes are bloodshot red and there's scars all over his face. It was an all too familiar scene, like looking at the mirror, like looking back at your memories

"Peter.." you softly say "your name is Peter right?"

The boy doesn't respond but you could notice the slight reaction to his name, you could also sense the reaction from the two other spiders behind you

You were surrounded by Peter Parker wherever you went, he never really ever left you alone.

"well, there's 2 other peters behind me, and there's 3 other spiders in front of you. Externally we can be as different as we want to, but your scars and your burdens-"

in any other case you might have broken into laughter, you hated dealing with serious talks like this

"and your heartache, Peter, we all share it with you. You're not alone"

The other Peter's take turns speaking to the teenage Peter in front of you.

You can't help but feel like the pain- their pain is all too familiar to yours. Different nonethless but eerily familiar, like de ja vu

You hear familiar names, Uncle Ben, Mary Jane and your heart drops when you hear her name, Gwen Stacy

Your eyes are trained on the 2nd spider. The one not as old as the other but also not as young as the kid. He looks like your age.

He's nothing like your Peter and yet you find it hard to tear your eyes away from him, he talks about Gwen like the way the peter in your universe did and guilt eats you up like a spider eating it's prey,

Even in an alternate universe spiderman (or spiderwoman in your case) comes in the way of Gwen Stacy and Peter Parker

"what about you?" The teenage Peter looks up at you and questions you, about apprehensive of you

"hey kid- didn't I already tell you my entire life story already?" There's a slight teasing time in your voice but it's not reciprocated by the youngest spider

awkward

You bite your lip, you hated this. But you knew he needed to hear this too.

"I had a Peter Parker too, back in my world" unlike the other spiders who are now sitting closely to teen Peter, you choose to sit at the edge of the building away from their eyes

"and he was my best friend. Before I met Harry or Mary Jane I had Peter" you could feel the state of the oldest spider among you, you wished you could give him a hug

"he was my next door neighbour, my friendly neighborhood boy, he was the most special person I met" there's a smile in your voice "later I met Harry and Harry met Peter and we became inseparable"

"then Peter met... someone special too. And her name" you paused, taking a shallow breath before you continued "was Gwen Stacy"

Now you could feel the other spider man's eyes boring holes into you. The air suddenly feels all to different. It's a little hard to breath

"Gwen was amazing and beautiful and so- so special, I could see why Peter liked her. Everyone did, I couldn't help but like her too"

"one day... There was an accident where Gwen was unfortunately at the wrong place, wrong time and even though I saved as many people as I could.. I couldn't save her"

You feel a hand on your shoulder and you knew it was the older spider, it has callouses and scars, it was heavy and full of burden but it felt safe and comforting. It felt awfully like home

"Peter..he used to adore spiderwomen but after that day he changed...he changed for the worse. He applied for an internship at Osborne laboratory, a lab owned by Harry's dad and got in."

Your story was a little longer than the other spiders but yours was the one which connected all four of yours together.

"what happened to Peter?" It's not the teen Peter or the old Peter who asked you this but the Peter who you felt the most familiar to. He encouraged you to continue so you did

"he uhm got the internship. I was against it but Harry thought that maybe it could get Peter back to himself again- but instead Peter he..he"

"you don't have to continue you know" his voice is soft and warm but you think that maybe his eyes are more comforting "it's okay we can continue this later"

You simply nodd

There's an odd silence now at the rooftop of a building. You turn your head to face the teen Peter who was still processing everything thats going on

"kid, if there's one thing you should know is that we are not ordinary normal people. We have powers and with-" the old Peter begins to say but the Peter next to you cuts him off

"great power comes-"

You whisper the end "great responsibility"

You all shared a look, you can't help but think that it's strange but it's also oddly comforting.

One thing you should know about all the spiders from all the universes no matter what are usually if not horrible at dealing with their feelings

And the four of you were not so different but you guys had each other so it was going to be okay

The white cold light filled the lab along with the pairs of white coats shuffling here and there, thinking up of a game plan and also modifying the gadgets

You can't help but stare at the youngest Peter and mj or rather Michelle, you don't realise that the other Peters are doing the same, one of them unintentionally like you and the other staring wistfully

The oldest Peter contemplates saying something to you and the 2nd Peter. The both of you had a similar look as your eyes lingered at the young couple. Something like regret or maybe guilt. Perhaps love or maybe self hatred. At the end he decides to remain silent, it's better to let the both of you figure it out by yourselves

You're the first to snap out of the trance, almost immediately noticing the other Peter the one most closest to your age staring intently into what you also were a few minutes ago

You break the silence, a slight cough

"you gotta love young love huh?"

His eyes twinkle a mischievous look and give you a lopsided smile

"too bad spiderwoman ruined it for me" you shrug

"spiderwoman? it was Spiderman for me" he shakes his head adding an additional flair "talk about a total buzzkill"

You both break into grins as if though the both of you were long lost friends sharing an old joke together

"so uh -" Peter, not the one ned is trying to teach internet acronyms to or the one too busy holding his girlfriend's hand, but Peter with the brown eyes and hazel eyes, the one sitting right across from you.

"I hope I'm not being too forward" you could recognise that awkward tone from anywhere "but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. About what happened to him" Peter's voice was genuine and his face warm "I'm sure it was difficult, especially because you had to go through that alone"

"oh" you're taken aback by his words

"not trying to be insensitive or anything but I" he gives you a lop sided smile, the kind of smile that seemed to be a mixture of concern and guilt "I know how difficult it must have been"

"it was difficult." You admit "Peter was my bestfriend, he was-" you cannot find yourself able to end that sentence and the Peter infront of you is quick to catch on to this fact

"uh so what did Peter look like? In your universe? I mean if that's alright to ask ofcourse I don't want to-"

he had caught on to your hesitation, he guesses that your relationship with the Peter in your universe was complicated so he simply changed the topic

"Peter" you laugh a little "uhm- i was kind of taken back at first, your almost nothing like my peter"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows raises when you say my Peter, but you also don't miss the way he tilts his head when he was surprised

"sorry I mean the Peter in my universe.. you know just your typical friendly neighbour" you say "blue eyes, blonde hair"

"wait- I have blue eyes and blonde hair in some other universe?"

You raise your eyebrows and gave him a look of slight disbelief "did you seriously just say you ?"

"hey" the Peter in front of you says as if to back himself up, holding up his hands "in some other universe I'm a no offense a middle aged man and in some other a hormonal teenager. It's great to know that I had blue eyes and blonde hair at a certain point"

You laugh. You actually laugh. It's a long time since you've talked about your Peter to anyone and for a long time every conversation about him seemed like a mourning but this one, this one felt as if though you were celebrating the person he was

"I'd rock blonde hair and blue eyes I assure you" The Peter infront of you breaks into a smile when he sees you laugh.

For someone he had never met or rather a person he was never supposed to meet he felt a sense of closeness towards you. A tingle

"so do you have a y/n in your universe? Please tell me I have pink hair and green eyes" you say

"not yet, unfortunately" he grimaces "but I have you here right now"

It's different. Everything was different with this Peter. You just couldn't pinpoint how

"yea I guess"

Peter doesn't say anything but gives you a wink before he goes tinkering his web shooting gadget

"huh..." You couldn't help but mumble to yourself "it's a weird though don't you think? This whole multiverse Spiderman/woman thing"

Peter hums in agreement "well, string theory is a bitch"

"Werner Heisenberg? Total asshole"

"tell me about it, he's worst"

There's a shared cheeky glance, an unspoken understanding, a connection if you would dare to admit

The Peter infront of you was nothing like your peter, he didn't have blue eyes or blonde hair, instead he had brown eyes and even darker eyes, he wasn't overlty confident or proud but rather seemed awkward and a little shy

The Peter infront of you was nothing like the Peter you knew in your universe but you didn't seem to mind

After all, the both of you had eachother right now, and that all the seemed to matter

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bones4thecats · 5 months ago

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Goku's Child! Reader w/ Three Admirers

Characters: Zamasu, Goku Black, and Trunks Requester/Idea-Starter: @lelewright1234 A/N: You can tell which was my favorite to write for, lol. But, I do hope you guys like this! Credit to the linked above for coming up with this prompt! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Mentions of death, fighting, obsessive behavior - borderline yandere, unwanted physical touch, and war(??) ⚠️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Zamasu ═══════════════════════════════╝

🍵 When you first met Zamasu with your father, the Supreme Kai was surprised to see how polite you were. Unlike your father, you were more of a quiet and reserved being, but that didn't mean you were weak

🍵 You watched with Gowasu as the two fought, and Zamasu was surprised when you jumped in after your father and began to spar against him. Much like Goku, you had a very powerful aura, and this guy was having a difficult time keeping up without using almost his whole power

🍵 It was only when your match ended that you laughed and helped him up that Zamasu realized that you were Goku's middle-child, specifically his only daughter. You looked a lot like him, your matching hair (despite it being in a different style - like your uncle Raditz's), your build - though you were smaller because you inherited your mother's shortness, and your eyes. But, you were different by how you acted

🍵 Zamasu began to question mortals and their values not that long ago, but seeing how delicate you acted around the other deities, he began to ask himself one question; why were you so different from the others in his eyes?

🍵 But more importantly... why did he seem to feel his stomach and heart flutter whenever you would look at him and smile?

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Goku Black ═════════════════════════════╝

🔥 You hated this guy with a burning passion. Not only did he wreck your entire home, but he literally killed so many of the people you cared for! If someone asked for you view on him, you would snap in rage before yelling your hatred for him

🔥 But, despite the fact that you so obviously despised him, Goku Black was head-over-heels for you. The way you fought against him just made his cold-heart beat run faster than any amount of adrenaline could make it

🔥 Black enjoys fighting against you, but he does hold his punches, as he, as the 'other mortals' say, "tangled in the gaze of your beautiful eyes on him". And I mean that. He'll see you look into his eyes and he'll grab your hand, attempting to get you in a waltz-like dance in the sky

🔥 Every time he touched you, he would feel his skin tingle in joy. You were so soft despite the long time of fighting, while his own hands were rough and slightly calloused from using so many attacks and tearing the surrounding world apart

🔥 The others were shocked when he would pick you up and hold you by the waist in the air, telling you how much he adored you and tried kissing you. You were stuck in horror, his guy looked exactly like your father! Hell, your Aunt Bulma called him 'Goku Black' for a reason! You just screamed and the past Goku had come up and kicked him away, carrying you down to the others gently, meanwhile Black glare at you and the others in rage. You were going to regret refusing a divine being...

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Trunks ═══════════════════════════════╝

⚔️ You two grew up together, and your fathers trained with one another. It only took this connection to bring you guys together in a lovely relationship as you grew up

⚔️ That happy life was unfortunately interrupted with Goku Black came down to attack, and it only made it worse that your father died from the Heart Virus while your own adversary looked exactly like your now-deceased father

⚔️ Trunks was pissed whenever Black tried touching you, and you knew this. The half-Saiyan would lung and cause the other male to fly back, crashing into a nearby building while he checked you over for any wounds possibly delivered by the enemy

⚔️ When you both went into the past, you held your sword in shock. You never expected to see your father in so long, and honestly? It was amazing to hear his voice and get to hug the same man that you lost to such a painful illness

⚔️ Trunks liked seeing you actually happy and comfortable, ever since Black came around, you had hardened and became more like a warrior than anyone else. So, just watching you let that go made his love for you grow larger and larger

⚔️ As you two fought for the final time against Goku Black, Trunks merged his attack with you, which made Merged-Zamasu scream and begin melting even more in agony. And when it finally ended with Future Zeno erasing your home away, you finally got to put your weapons down and live a happy life with your beloved

⚔️ Before you left, you looked back at the young you and Trunks. They asked what you guys were in the future - like asking if you were still friends -, and you just smiled before your Trunks wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your cheek, making the young two of you gag with a hint of flush on their faces. You just chuckled and kneeled down to look at the two of them, leaving everyone with one final message from the future you

"Don't ever take one another for granted. You never know when another danger could come through and tear you guys apart. And don't ever, and I mean ever, allow Dad to use his Spirit Bomb on the garden. He did that when I was young and it almost blew up the entire yard..."

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agroteraa · 1 year ago

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Actaeon

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 1.

Part 2: Artemis

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)

Warnings: smut, voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, light choking.

Word Count: 5K

"Venetia! I also wanted to..."

But she had already triumphantly closed the bathroom door. You slammed the door a couple of times, but all you heard in response was the muffled sound of water and a Paris Hilton song blasting from the speakers that were in that room. She would definitely listen to the entire album during her bath procedures, and certainly more than once.

Clearly, this would take a long time. It was too long to wait - you'd been shivering from the cold. Nothing special had happened, you just opened the window in your room and were so engrossed in reading a book that you forgot about everything in the world. The summer days in Saltburn were hot, but still the nights gave you chills sometimes. So, every fascination has its price to pay.

The second bathroom in your wing of the house broke down tonight. That was bad, because the servants could not cope on their own, and it was too late to call the plumbing, and there was no such urgent need when there were several bathrooms. It was a pity the senior Cattons didn’t know that when Venetia used to occupy the only bathroom nearby, that was indeed the most urgent need.

You didn't want to bother Felix and Venetia's parents, much less use their bathroom. James and Elspeth were friends of your parents and this was far from your first summer in Saltburn, but still it would be somehow too inconvenient, they were not your uncle and aunt, after all. There was also no question about the servants' bathroom, it seemed even more inconvenient for you to occupy a bathroom that was used by more than 10 people at once.

There was only one option left if you wanted to lie in the bath for as long as you wanted so that no one would bother you, and right now.

You went down to the living room, where you could hear the sound of the TV. Felix was sitting next to Oliver, smoking a cigarette, switching channels and talking cheerfully to his friend.

"Hey Felix!" you spoke to the guy, and he turned to you, his face reflecting the blue light from the TV in the semi-darkness.

"Yes, Y/N?" he smiled.

"Mm... Can I use your bathroom now? We’ve got one tub malfunctioning, and Venetia got stuck in the other, deciding to do Live at Saltburn's Bathroom 2007, no less..."

You specifically said "your bathroom," looking at Felix the whole time. It was more correct to address both guys at once, but you just couldn't look into Oliver's eyes like that and ask him to use his bathroom with Felix.

"Say no more," he grinned, "Of course! Go ahead, enjoy yourself!"

"Thank you," you smiled and nodded at him, and at that moment you finally looked at Oliver. Unlike you, he had been doing nothing but staring at you all this time. You looked into his blue eyes on a face that was bathed in blue light, which made his eyes seem even more piercing. But he never said anything, absolutely nothing. His expression was unreadable. Was he offended that you didn't address him?

You smiled shyly at Oliver, nodded too, and left the room, bumping into Farleigh in the doorway, who was carrying a large pack of crisps.

"Hello, Y/N! How are you... hey Felix, did you switch that reality show that I was watching?!"

"Of course, yes, because no one wants to watch it except you," Felix replied.

"What? It's "Big Brother", actually! Yes, it's a great show, and we all need a little drama sometimes late in the evening! I bet Oliver likes it too. Yes, Oliver?"

"Oh, please!" Felix rolled his eyes and teasingly began to put the remote away from the hands of the approaching Farleigh.

You chuckled and finally left the room. You never looked at Oliver again, but you could swear that you felt his gaze burning into your back.

God, could he really be offended? Or maybe you did something or said something before and didn't realize it? It seems that Oliver had been noticing a lot, but always kept everything to himself.

Oliver, this guy. You met him at Oxofrd and you chatted and even went to some pubs with him and Felix a few times, but you didn't understand what he was like then. To tell the truth, you still had no idea, but the main reason why you were afraid to look him in the eye when you asked about the bathroom was that you thought he would immediately feel and find out about the crush that had been developing for him for the second month now of your growing closer with him here, in Saltburn.

The only thing you could say for sure was that he was not as insecure and awkward himself as you thought at university, rather he was silent and observant, knowing the value of himself, his words and actions. Attentively listening and being generally deep. His inner confidence and even some kind of mystery began to intrigue you in earnest.

Walking through the corridors of the beautiful old manor, you thought to yourself that you were even glad that everything turned out that way with your bathrooms. The thought of you lying in the same hot tub that Oliver lied almost every night strangely excited and turned you on.

You reached the right room, looking around - it was quiet and cozy. You immediately started taking water into the bathroom, and while you were waiting, you started walking in circles. Here was Felix's bathroom table, next to which his red robe was carelessly hung, two crushed toothpastes and a brush with slightly protruding bristles. You imagined that he was brushing his teeth with the speed and power of a blender in order to quickly deal with this chore and get down to much more interesting things that another day had prepared for him.

You laughed softly at this thought, and then went over to Oliver's side.

Everything was surprisingly neat in contrast to his neighbor, one almost full paste, one brush, two neatly folded towels. You wonder where his robe was. Did he come and go without it?

Gods, you started to think about something wrong. But it was too late – you already started imagining Oliver in his underwear, how he comes into this bathroom, takes them off and lies down in a hot tub… Or maybe he comes and goes here right away without underwear? Ugh... that's enough.

You decided not to lock the door from Felix's room - the boys were obviously absorbed in domination for the telly, besides, they know that you were here, so you just loosely closed the door. No one should come in.

The bathtub was almost full of water, you impatiently took off your clothes and decided to put them together with your bathrobe... where? You didn't want to go to Oliver's side - it was too minimalistic and clean. And besides, it seemed like... too intimate for some reason. But Felix's side would tolerate it, also there were a couple of spare towels in the corner that you forgot to take.

You carefully lowered yourself into the bath, the hot water started nibbling your skin. God, it felt so good. You gradually began to stretch and relax.

There was something about lying in an empty room in the bath while the water was still bubbling. The light was pleasantly dimmed, and the air in the room was gradually getting hot and sticky. This kind of environment had always calmed you down and turned you on at the same time. Except that there was a lot more of the excitement this night rather than the calming.

Thoughts of Oliver came back to you. The way he leaves his room, comes into this very bathroom, fills it just like you did. He lies down in it, as you were lying now, inhales hot air and breathe out even hotter air. Beads of sweat are gathering on his body. And you'd already seen his body too many times while you were swimming or sunbathing. Even you, being more of a face girl rather than a six-pack girl, could not sometimes look away, it was good that most of the time you were wearing sunglasses and he hardly noticed anything. Usually you rather admired his face and beautiful eyes, but now, in your fantasies, his eyes were closed, so your imagination stopped at his beautiful figure and, without too much modesty, began to write it out in details.

You couldn't help yourself, except…

The fingers on your left hand began to lightly brush your lips from left to right, you felt your own hot breath. You wondered if they were…

Then the hand began to descend lower, to your breasts, gently cupping one breast. Fingers slowly drew circles around your nipple, and then squeezed it, causing you to bite your lip and inhale sharply.

...if it were his hands, then....

The water was hot, but the heat below you was even stronger. Unable to resist it, your hand moved even lower, carefully making its way through your folds. You started caressing yourself. All these stoked emotions, tension, unspoken words lately, it was all too much. Of course, when you turned to Felix, the first thing you thought about was that it wasn't him using this bathroom, but someone else. What if he did it too, right here in this place?

...You wonder if those were his hands, would they have caressed you the same way?

This and the previous thoughts and the briefly popped images in your head finally brought you to the peak.

"Oliver..." you whispered loudly, unable to keep that name on your lips.

He almost gave himself away at this point.

Of course, you weren't alone all this time. While Felix and Farleigh were arguing over the right to own the remote, Oliver sat next to them, unable to believe that this was happening. You were going to his bathroom. Of course, in his thoughts now (and maybe in his plans for the future) it wasn't just you and Felix's bathroom, no. You, lying in his bathtub, was the only way to say it correctly and so... luscious.

He was already preoccupied with these thoughts from the very beginning, when you innocently asked Felix about the bathroom, and was just waiting for the right moment to slip away from this company. Fortunately, Elspeth soon joined them, and James came in after her, so, thanks to new guests in the room and the still ongoing discussion about what the Catton family would be watching on TV that evening, Oliver was able to slip away without much difficulty.

He impatiently followed your footsteps, counting in his head whether it was enough time to pass for you to look around there, fill the bath, lie down in it and start relaxing. Thinking about the last words, Oliver began to tense up in a certain sense and in a certain place. Yes, he decided, enough time had passed.

Very quietly, he walked through Felix's dark room to the crack in the door, which left a narrow strip of light from the next room. You were lying in the bath. God, it was a pity that he missed the moment when you took off your clothes and lay down there, but it was also good. He would see everything again, and very soon.

Oliver breathed very quietly and slowly.

God, how beautiful you were, even that small part of your body that could be seen from the bathroom and was also limited to the door crack was inexpressibly beautiful to him. He felt like an ancient Greek myths character, some kind of satyr watching the bathing of a beautiful nymph. No, the goddess. He thought of himself as Actaeon, and you were now his Artemis, taking your bath. A hunter who made his way to the goddess of hunting in the forest and was punished for his excessive curiosity, desires and impatience.

It was also some kind of forbidden act, as if he had actually made his way into the sacred grove. The grove was sacred, but he was glaring at you in a completely blasphemous manner. If he had got to be turned into a stag or something, he was willing to pay the price right now. Every fascination has its price to pay. Although no, not right now.…

Oliver was breathing very quietly and slowly, but soon his breathing became heavier and heavier.

It was too much when you started slowly running your hand over your body, starting with your lips and going lower and lower.

His mouth involuntarily opened in amazement, and then his jaw clenched, and he gnashed his teeth almost audibly. He bit his lip. It was impossible to tolerate, no. His own hand also began to slowly descend.

What was he counting on? Probably just to see you lying in his tub, left to yourself. He didn’t know himself. But for some reason, he did not hope for what was happening at that moment. What or who is Y/N thinking about now? He would give a lot to know that. And he would give everything to change the answer to his own name.

His excitement and despair grew within him every passing second.

He did not calculate exactly what happened next. Or rather, he could have guessed only in his wildest dreams. But it must be said, Oliver always had wildest dreams, which he quickly began to believe in.

"Oliver..." - the acoustics of the bathroom and the silence around gave away your secret, and the sensitive hearing of the bearer of this name picked it out unmistakably.

At that moment, the pupils of his eyes widened to their limit, as if he had just learned the most important secret of the universe, which he had longed to possess all his life. To some extent, even on the modest scale of human life and the moment, this was exactly the case.

So, yes. All this time Y/N was thinking about him. Not about Felix. Not about Farleigh. God, it was not even about Venetia or anyone else. About him. About Oliver. About Oliver Quick.

He smiled broadly at the thought that his observations, his intuition and his wildest dreams had met at a single point of truth. He knew that he hadn't made much of an impression on you in those brief meetings you had at Oxford. But you made an impression on him, and that was enough. He was good at waiting, and he was even better at planning. All this getting closer with Felix, this whole year – it was all for you first of all. He knew that you were friends, that you were the daughter of his parents' friends, and that you were often invited to stay at the Catton family estate, and he did everything to get there too. Yes, even if he didn't make a big first impression on you, even if you didn't study together, even if Felix didn't study with you and your paths didn’t cross often enough to communicate a lot at Oxford, but Oliver knew the place where all this would happen. In Saltburn.

That was why he’d been working very hard for the last two months – even if he wasn't always a good conversationalist, he was a great listener and an even better observer. You began getting closer, and he clearly caught your attention. But to what extent, even Oliver was not sure. It seemed that you communicated with Felix and Farleigh with much more ease, even flirting a little. And not only with them, in general, your ease was expressed in communicating with anyone. With anyone but him. More and more often, you began to avoid his gaze, felt visually uncomfortable, stiffed when you were alone with him, and felt a clear relief when someone joined your company. Did you really get to know him better, and the initial indifference became a constant awkwardness in his presence? Oliver was very afraid of that. And deep down he hoped that this way you could just mask your affection for him, because sometimes people do that. This was also present in him to some extent, or rather, it used to be, because Oliver Quick decided to bury his insecurity and shyness deep inside himself. He was not quite done with it yet, but oh the boy was trying, he was trying very hard. He wanted to kill everything in himself that prevents him from becoming who he desired to be and getting what he wanted. Or who he wanted.

That brief smile changed again to a soundlessly open mouth that almost gave out a groan. Oliver held his hand tightly on his crotch, holding onto the wall with his other hand so that his knuckles turned white. After that confession of yours, Oliver was ready to burst into the bathroom at the same second, but no. He would restrain himself, he would not do that. He would be smarter than Actaeon.

He was really able to keep his composure and wait for you to relax and move away from your blessed condition a little, diving into the water a little deeper and slightly closing his eyes from pleasure and calmness that came to you. He moved noiselessly to the other side of the room. He exhaled deeply. Oliver looked at the half-finished can of Red Bull that had been on Felix's bedside table near the entrance for almost a week. Now it was time to act.

You heard footsteps approaching and shivered, opening your eyes.

"Knock, knock! May I come in?" a familiar voice asked sweetly and quite lively.

"Oliver? What are you..." you started, but he interrupted you by going into the bathroom, without waiting for your invitation or even more so for a refusal.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I need to change my clothes urgently," he began guiltily, "I-I'm not looking!"

He was actually walking past you, covering his face with his hand.

"What's happened?" you asked, half rising from the tub.

"I spilled a drink on myself. It's so unsuitable, because this is a shirt that Felix recently gave me, so that I, quote, "won’t wear the same thing over and over again, otherwise it upsets mother, we're not some kind of paupers here, she said to him." This is so damn awkward," he said frustratedly.

"Yes, of course, come in. It's okay."

"Thank you, Y/N! Once again, I'm sorry for the suddenness."

Oliver disappeared and rummaged in his room for a while, and then knocked again, but this time from the side of his own door.

"Yes? Do you want to go back?"

"Yes. And no. Not quite. It seems that I need to wash my shirt right now, before the stain is completely dry..."

"Can you just leave the shirt to the maids?"

"No, no! Disturbing people at such a late hour...And again, until I find someone and get there..."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Come in... if you won’t be watching,"

"While I'm washing my shirt, I won't," Oliver smiled.

He entered the room with his eyes closed in a caricature manner and showed a white shirt with a dark yellow Red Bull stain on the shirt hanging in his outstretched arms. He was wearing white tank top and black trousers, which were only left part from his dinner costume. He also took off his shoes.

"Yeah, I see it. Maybe you can wash it with soap or something?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm going to do now," Oliver went to his sink under a mirror, starting to wash the stain.

You didn't promise not to look. This view of him, the combination of a formal suit with something casual, formed a knot in your stomach. The white tank top that accentuated his slender torso and exposed his muscular arms so well, which were now busy doing laundry, black suit trousers that hugged his legs and ass in such a nice way, as well as the fact that he was standing barefoot in the bathroom, created a feeling of some kind of intimacy. Few people could see him like this even in this house, as if you came from some sort of gala dinner, and now you saw him in the process of changing clothes between some business. It was like you came together, and this was just your house, and that only you were allowed to see this semi-domestic, yet at the same time very sexy look. You inhaled the air quite sharply.

He didn't promise not to watch either. Therefore, the smile slipped from his face, since you did not see him from this angle, from where he could watch you through the mirror while washing his shirt, completely not looking at it. The smile faded because he could barely contain himself again. He was breathing heavily the hot and sticky air of the bathroom. Damn if only could he pounce and ravish you right now, in this very bath. Oliver was reveling in the way you were looking at him, the way you were looking at him now, thinking that he didn't notice it. Your sharp sigh was the last drop.

"Thinking about something?" Oliver asked you in an even tone.

"What? Oh, no, I just, uh..."

"It's weird, I thought I heard your voice when I first came in here. Did you talk to someone?"

"Of course not, because it's just me... and you."

"I could swear you were talking to someone..." Oliver said wistfully.

You felt the heat in the still hot bath water again, only now your face was burning. Did he hear you muttering his name? It couldn't be, could it have happened before he came in? Or did you not remember something? You were so relaxed. And now you were tensing up, afraid that he would find out your little, or rather, very, very big secret, which you were afraid to fully admit even to yourself.

"I... don't..."

Oliver sighed and stopped washing his shirt, turning to you and leaning on his table. He stared at you unblinkingly, arms crossed over his chest. You instinctively gasped and covered your chest with your hands, crossing your legs.

"My dear, I don't bite. Be a good girl and tell me who you were thinking about while lying in that bathtub, mm?"

"You promised not to look!" It seems like your face couldn't be any redder than it was now.

"I said I wouldn't look while I’d be washing my shirt," Oliver raised both hands in front of him, looking straight into your eyes, "As you can see, I'm done with it."

"But I’m not done with you at all," he thought to himself and slowly began to approach you from behind.

"Oliver, what are you-"

"Shh," he knelt down and gently put his hands on your shoulders, carefully gathering your wet hair to the center of your neck, "I won't look if you want, but let me apologize for my intrusion, I didn't mean to bother you."

He began to gently massage your shoulders, as the pads of his thumbs moved to your neck. You sighed softly and shifted your legs. It seems like both halves of your body were burning equally badly now.

"That's it, good girl," he cooed softly, exhaling hot air almost into your ear. His measured breathing burned your neck, "So, will you tell me who you were thinking about while lying in this tub?"

He asked the question as if he knew the answer to it. You wanted terribly and didn't want to tell him at the same time. It seems that even if you wanted to, the words were stuck in your throat. His long fingers began to tighten, moving slightly towards your neck. "I won't leave it until you tell me yourself." You twitched your legs again. Were you scared or did it turn you on? It seems to be both.

"And please don't hide with your hands from me, yeah? Do you know how fuckin' beautiful you are?" he took one hand off from your neck and gently pushed your hand away, taking up space under your breasts. There was a complete silence in the room. He moved a little to the left side of the tub. At that moment, your eyes met, and everything inside you turned upside down. His beautiful blue eyes were now almost dark with longing. His breathing was slow and heavy, shaking the already hot and sticky air between your faces. The tension was too strong to resist. Yes, it seems that your feelings towards each other were mutual.

Your lips slowly met, and then everything was like a blur. After a short while, Oliver sensually ran his tongue over your lower lip, asking for an invitation to come in. You opened your mouth a little more, where he immediately had slipped with his tongue, leisurely enjoying every corner of your mouth as much as possible. Then he broke the kiss in the lips just to kiss your collarbone without breaking your visual contact. You remembered that his other hand was resting under your chest, and now it began to stroke your skin and climb higher. Oliver began caressing your breasts just the way you had done before – first cupping it in his hand, and then slowly began to lead circles around your nipple until he squeezed it lightly. You cried out softly with pleasure.

"So, darling? And now you're going to tell me who you were thinking about...?"

If earlier words did not come out of you because of surprise and sensation of a slight fear, now they did not come out of you because of excitement and disbelief in what was happening in general. Oliver grinned, closing his eyes, lowering and shaking his head a bit. Then he stood up and, cupping your face in his hands, kissed you again. But this time the kiss was greedy, almost immediately his tongue penetrated you mouth, without asking for any permission now. But you didn't need it, you almost moaned into his lips in response. One of his hands moved from your cheek to your neck and began to squeeze it lightly.

After breaking the kiss, he looked at you again. It seems that now you were ready to reveal his name, but decided not to do so, to see what would happen next, gathering all the remnants of your weakening will, and silently looked at him in response. Oliver seemed to catch this mood and, giving you a dark excitement smile, took a step back, removing one hand from your throat and moving it to your inner thigh. His other hand was on your chest again. Your body covered with goosebumps under the water. He entered you with one finger, and you finally let out a real moan. Smiling with satisfaction, he added his second finger and increased the pace. The water started splashing out of the bathtub from your fidgeting and legs movements. The hand that rested on your breast began to squeeze it, and the thumb massaged your nipple rougher and rougher. You began to moan more often and louder under the caresses of your uninvited, but such a welcome guest. Perhaps it was more correct to say that you were the guest, and he was more like the host here, but your already confused thoughts were interrupted by his hoarse and authoritative voice, "Who were you thinking about lying here, touching yourself? Whose hands were you imagining at that moment?"

You just moaned in response, and he picked up the pace.

"Say the name, say it out loud"

"Oh... Oliver! It was you, Oliver."

"Yes," his eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze darkened even more, and his mouth let out a soundless moan full of satisfaction at what he had heard. He had experienced complete moral satisfaction, and now he would give you a physical one.

He bent down to you more, greedily and sloppily kissing you, without taking his hands off caressing your body, he added the third finger, and in less than a minute you came loudly under his fingers.

You were breathing heavily, just like Oliver himself. You looked at each other, both of you had a swarm of thoughts and a hurricane of feelings in your heads. "Good, sweet Y/N. I'm so glad that tonight turned out that way," he kissed you again, sweetly and almost innocently. He sat on his knees by the bath for a while and just looked at you. You started to get embarrassed again and looked away.

"I'm sorry, you probably need some time alone, and they've probably been waiting for me downstairs. The shirt still needs to be hung up to dry!" he said cheerfully, getting up from his knees, quickly taking the shirt from the sink and disappearing into his room. When he returned, you saw that he was wearing shoes again, and another shirt was thrown over his tank top.

"Have a pleasant late evening, Y/N! If you're not tired, join us in the living room," Oliver smiled at you, and then, already standing in the aisle, added quite nicely but firmly, "And if you want or need to use this room again, put your things down and take towels from my half of the bathroom, hmm?"

With these words, he left the room, leaving you in a storm of feelings and once again thinking how observant and puzzling he was sometimes, as it may not seem at first.

He was over the moon, but of course he would like to get a lot more out of you than he got today. But he knew how to wait, a good hunter should be able to do it, and today Oliver praised himself that he did it perfectly. Actaeon was considered the best out of the mortal hunters.

He was running, almost flying down the estate towards the living room. The Cattons were probably watching some nonsense there, as they always did. But he didn't care, because all his thoughts were about tomorrow night, hoping that you would come to use his bathroom again. Hoping that Venetia would occupy your bathroom again for a long enough time, and if she wouldn't, then maybe he would consider clogging of the second tub.

Oliver knew how to wait, and even better he knew how to act at the right moment.

Surely, he would surpass Actaeon himself.

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averagewriter-inthedark · 6 months ago

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A Family Affair 🔥| House of Dragon Headcanon

Being the cousin of Viserys I, Daemon, & Rhaenys would look like:

You're the youngest of the bunch, born roughly five years after Daemon in 86 AC by one of the many offspring of King Jaehaerys I and his wife Queen Alysanne Targaryen and were raised in the Red Keep alongside your family members. Despite being younger, you were close with your many cousins, specifically Rhaenys, Viserys, and Daemon. Clinging to them like a little shadow and viewing the three more like older siblings than cousins.

From a young age, you displayed courageous and sometimes controversial characteristics. Claiming the mighty Silverwing as your mount on your ninth name day, henceforth you were dubbed "The Daring," by the Court and the Seven Kingdoms. The nickname applying as you got older for your sharp tongue to the Lords and Ladies of Westeros, as well as fighting on the frontlines during conflict in the name of your King & Gransire.

You were highly more favored by the Court opposed to your older cousin, Daemon, aka the Rogue Prince. The vision of duty, honor, and loyalty, you were what every Targaryen upheld. So much so that some believed you should have been a contender as Jaehaerys' heir. But unlike Rhaenys and Viserys, who were the eldest grandchild and eldest male relative, you were unmarried with no children. Something you had no interest in obtaining and was your main criticism by the Court. Had you been, then the Lords of Westeros may have drawn to your favor as the future ruler of Westeros. A fierce warrior and respected member of society.

But you can't lie, you and Daemon were more alike than what the Court desperately tried to ignore. Where Rhaenys and Viserys were on one side of the coin, you and Daemon were on the other. The only thing that made Lords and Ladies believe otherwise was the fact in public settings you two were constantly at each other's throat. Constantly bickering, exchanging childish insults, and calling the other out. To them, you both despised each other. Unaware that behind closed doors Daemon is the first person you go to when you're suspicious of someone and vice versa. And when Viserys is crowned King, naming both you and Daemon to his small council, you two know better than to trust anyone else than each other. Not blind to the cunning snake that is Otto Hightower.

Speaking of Otto Hightower, he's not your biggest fan as you can expect, but he tolerates you far more than Daemon. Otto hates that you, like Daemon, can see through him and verbally question him during council meetings. But unlike Daemon, Otto doesn't have to worry about you causing scandal and knows you would never bring dishonor to the Targaryen name. Really you two ignore each other, and only exchange pleasantries when in public at Court. And Otto knows better than to cross you. The one time he suggested Viserys try to arrange a marriage for you, you hunted him down and made sure he thought twice before ever trying to rid you of the Red Keep ever again.

"Next time it crosses your mind to plot schemes against me, my Lord Hand, remember what happened to the last man who tried." There was rumor the last Master of Coin had been murdered, coincidently after suggesting you had no place on the small council. Otto had his suspicions, but never questioned aloud. "You would not dare." "To not, would be an insult to my name."

As your cousins had children you became an aunt/uncle figure to them. Rhaenyra in particular loved to be around you, trailing you like a little shadow like you once did her father and uncle. She liked to stand close to you during small council meetings and accompany you to the Dragonpit or training yard. And you were quick to notice her affections for Daemon as she grew, something you brought to Viserys attention to which he brushed it off as her being young and having a silly crush. When the King named her heir, you bent the knee and swore to her as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. As for Laenor and Laena, you sometimes surprised them at Driftmark to which Rhaenys was grateful. Each time you brought gifts from Kings Landings and your travels, as Viserys tasked you with maintaining domestic and foreign affairs by visiting the Great Houses and Essos.

You were no fool when Viserys announced his intent to marry Alicent Hightower following the death of his beloved and your cousin, Aemma. Alicent was Rhaenyra's closest friend, therefore there were times she joined you and the Princess at Court. She was a young, sweet thing, and it filled you with rage that Otto had enlisted her to seduce him in his goal to merge the houses and hopefully put Hightower blood on the throne. But most importantly, you were furious with Viserys, "She is a child, cousin, and your daughter's best friend, nonetheless! How could you do that to Rhaenyra?! Do you not see what place you've put her in?" And when you openly accused Otto of scheming Viserys was quick to shut you up like he did Daemon the year before. By the end of the heated argument, which the maids and guards feared could turn violent, you expressed your disappointment in your cousin before taking leave. Finding Rhaenyra to say goodbye, leaving her tear-stricken and taking Silverwing to head for the Stepstones to help Daemon and Corlys with the war.

It would be years until you returned to Court, alongside Daemon following the victory against the Triarchy. Viserys welcoming you two back with open arms, and you resumed your place at his small council. You met his young children Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond, then little Daeron came along. And you were quite displeased with your cousin after observing how closed off he was with them, the children displaying happiness whenever you were near and trailing you like a little shadow. Reminding you of when their half-sister and cousins were their age.

Aemond liked to shadow you more than his siblings, as did Daeron before he was sent to Oldtown. Which is no surprise given Aemond wanted to be a skilled warrior like you and Daemon. Pleading with you to teach him how to wield a sword and claim a dragon. Helaena liked to show you her bugs, and while you didn't understand her riddles you never treated her like others in her family. You'd sit with her in the gardens or the library and keep her company in between her lessons. As for Aegon.....he was a sweet child who turned into a menace resulting in you having to knock him down a peg. You knew it was due to his mother and grandfather's influence, but that didn't excuse his behavior. While you never laid a hand on him, all you had to do was give him a look and it sent him running with his tail between his legs.

This trait of being an aunt/uncle continued as Daemon had daughters with Lady Laena, who you visited in Pentos at least twice a year, and Rhaenyra having sons with Laenor. Again, you were no fool. It was obvious the parentage of Rhaenyra's sons was questionable due to their physical traits. But you kept your tongue silent and loved them, helping raise them as Targaryen Princes. Lucerys clung to you if his mother wasn't present. You dotted on him, as he was the more emotional one of his brothers. Especially when the topic of his future to Driftmark was brought up. "Worry not, my sweet nephew, you've a long way before taking your seat on the Driftwood throne. Until then enjoy your youth. Leave all the politics and boring stuff to the adults."

Though the children were technically not your nephews and nieces, you viewed them as such and would go to war for them. Sometimes trying to hide them from the harsh reality of what it means to be a child born into the Royal house of Targaryen. Their future was something you feared but didn't show. And whenever you, Daemon, Viserys, and Rhaenys found yourselves in the rare company of each other, it reminds you there is no stronger bond than the blood of the dragon.

#hosue of the dragon #house of the dragon headcanon #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #viserys targaryen #king viserys #viserys x reader #rhaenys targaryen #rhaenys x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #queen rhaenyra #dance of the dragons #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #helaena targaryen #leanor velaryon #laena velaryon #otto hightower

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spider-jaysart · 20 days ago

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Today I'm introducing a dear oc created by both me and my friend @paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 !!

Marco Grayson!!!

(Click for better quality) The first pic is their hero suit and the second one is their casual, default outfit

Name: Marco Grayson and Markoand'r in Tamaranean (which is a name of one of Tamaran's first Kings/Warriors "Markoand'r the deathfire". A little headcanon by @pin-crusher2000 )

Hero name: Starwing

Age: 6-7 years old

Personality: Fierce, stubborn, is always too brave without a care, sometimes is weird in his little way, often passionate/determined, and is a sweet kid with a good heart

Orientation: Gay

Random facts:

Marco is the third and youngest child of Dick and Kory

Marco's favorite Uncle is Damian. Marco looks up to him a lot too and they get eachother, since they're mostly similar in their ways, and are usually chaos together because of it

For others Marco is also close with besides him, it's their Siblings Mar'i and Jake, their 6 year old Aunt Helena Wayne, Wade West, and two playful civilian friends from school named Jarred and Lizza

Marco is in a hero duo with Wade West (aka The Blur) called SpeedStar. They are best friends who grew up knowing eachother ever since they were babies (another headcanon by @pin-crusher2000 )

Marco loves dinosaurs and they are their fave animal. They even own lots of toys and other things of them because of it and they also know lots about them too, because of their interest in them. Bruce and Marco bond over this a lot and on special days, Damian will usually gift them cool art of dinosaurs too

Marco's fave films are the Jurrasic park movies and they're also not the type to mind the gore and instead thinks horror like that is cool

Marco has the condition CIP, which never let's them feel pain at all. This causes many worries most times from family, especially their parents. Dick and Kory usually have to check them to see if they're really okay anywhere, even on normal days for anything, since they don't understand how bad pain is or what it's like at all, which can often make them feel overbearing to Marco, but they only do it cause Marco would never be able to tell them themself if there ever was a problem, so they both have to always keep up with them for their child's own good just to be sure

Marco actually has 7 stomachs while both their siblings have 6

Marco's voice sounds like AJ's from TellTales the walking dead games series in season 4, but slightly lighter on the heavy part

Marco is ticklish on their feet like their Dad, but their most sensitive spots are their ears and ribs

Marco will eat anything, which can also be concerning sometimes. They get this from Kory who isn't a picky eater and Dick who just be tasting anything that's apart of clues like it's normal💀 Marco's fave foods tho are cookie dough and their Mom's more stranger cooking, which are unlike her usual Tamaranean dishes

When Marco becomes a teenager in the future, they begin going by They/Them pronouns and have a boyfriend by that time too, who is Dorin (aka Green Troia), the Son of both Donna Troy and Kyle Rayner, and is also a popular supermodel who sometimes takes up gigs in his spare time (once again another headcanon by @pin-crusher2000 and that oc is created by him)

Marco got help on their hero suit from Mar'i and Jake and got it approved by Damian after immediately taking it to him for reviewing lol. Damian was impressed by the results of the design and the only thing he suggested was a mask, but Marco rejected the idea, since they like the idea of being free like their Mother and big Sis, which left Damian a bit grumpy internally but he just dealt with it lol

Marco is a proud member of the Robin!Damian defense squad/fan club with their Aunt Helena, since Damian is one of them that just gets too much hate a lot of times

Unlike others who often make fun or judge it, Marco actually loves Damian's horned boots and thinks they're so cool, since they remind them so much of dinosaurs

Damian has a nickname for Marco, which is Goofball

Marco is one of the only special ones Damian gives out forehead kisses to as a habit from Talia always doing it to him when he was younger. But it's only between them, cause he has a tough reputation to keep still lmao

Marco has the the unique ability called Starblast, which is being able to breathe out a huge blast of Starbolt energy from their mouth after transferring it from both of their hands up into their lungs (think like Godzilla)

When Marco watched fireworks for the first time at 3 years old, they got so excited and overjoyed from the show, so since Starbolts are so similar to them, that's when their powers finally came out, when they were imitating them with their hands

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chloeji · 1 year ago

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I have designed my two protagonists through customization. Here are the infos about these two characters.

Rosa and Vio are cousins to each other as Rosa's mother and Vio's father are siblings. Both of them are 14 years old which makes them as same age as Penny. Their design and characteristic traits are inspired by the certain gemstones, which are Rose Quartz and Iolite respectively. As such, Rosa represents emotion whereas Vio represents rationality.

Rosa was born to wealthy Scarlett family in Floaroma Town of Sinnoh region. Ethnically, she is one quarter Kantonian and three quarter Galarian (Pokemon equivalent of one quarter Japanese and three quarter English) as her paternal grandmother is Kantonian, though her paternal grandfather is Galarian Sinnohan. Her family in Sinnoh consists of paternal grandparents, paternal aunt and uncle (aunt's husband), paternal cousin, and mother. Her father unfortunately passed away few years prior of beginning of stories. Unlike Penny who is very annoyed with her own father, Rosa loves her father so much that she became very interested in something related to Hisui as her father and her uncle (aunt's husband) are researchers of Hisui. He was supposed to be a head of Scarlett family, but due to his passing his elder sister became the head of the family instead. As such, she made few of maids train her daughter and Rosa the kunoichi skills and arts of refinements (the way of fragrance, tea, and flower). Rosa's paternal grandmother comes from kunoichi family in Kanto Region.

Vio was born to upper middle class Violett family in Opelucid City of Unova region. He is ethnically half Galarian and half Unovan (Pokemon equivalent of half British half American) as his mother is Unovan. His family in Unova consists of just mother and father. Like Penny who is very annoyed with her own father, Vio is very annoyed with his own mother as she is too over-doting and hysterical. His mother is part of International Police, specifically cyber investigation. As such, Vio sometimes was trained under it, enabling him to develop great detective like cautiousness, perception and reasoning.

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kissesazula · 1 month ago

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thinking about possessed-doll satoru, he’s gorgeous, who wouldn’t find a 6’3 porcelain doll, with blue eyes and silky white hair that feels so real— gorgeous?

he’s your grandmothers favourite, getting special treatment from her other dolls. she bathes him, feeds him, tucks him into bed (he actually has a bed unlike the other dolls), and praises him for just existing, standing there with a smile on his face.

you’ve never liked him, well not that you have hatred for the doll, but you never felt the connection that your grandma has with him. there was something about him that wasn’t warm, something about him sent a chill down your spine everytime he was mentioned.

standing before him, looking at his features, trying to figure out why sometimes your grandma prefers spending time with him over her own granddaughter.

“oh my dear, isn’t he beautiful?” she exclaims excitedly that you were paying attention to him. you looked at her confused, confused by her fascination about this doll that god knows where she got it from.

“it’s alright.” you stare into its eyes, expecting it to stare back but he was only looking forward. your grandma gasped at your words, slapping you away. “don’t call him an ‘it’! you might hurt his feelings!” she protested as she pushes you away from him. you watched as she mumbled apologies to the doll as you scoffed, walking out the door to where your mother was waiting for you to get in.

years go by as your grandma had died, and the family was trying to decide what to do with the house since she didn’t leave a will, is what you all thought until the doctor pulled it out from her pocket, seeing that your grandma stuffed in while she was looking, and handing it to your mom.

she groaned as she opened the letter, reading out the first few sentences to everyone present in the room. “my dears, if you are reading this then my time has come. i hope what you find yourself left with in the will, will satisfy your needs.” your mother rolls her eyes mockingly, finding it excruciating long on how she couldn’t just tell everyone what they inherited.

she continues reading the will, to discover that she was left with the car, your first uncle was left with heavy amounts of cash, your second uncle was left with nothing but the dog, and your aunt was left with the vacation home she had in cuba, but nothing about them inheriting the house?

“this hag forgot about the house?!” your aunt screeches, calling the woman that gave birth to her a hag, flipping the page around and reading ‘house’. “hah! here it is!” she exclaims excitedly as she reads it out loud. “now, for the house. im leaving everything in-trusted into..” she pauses as her eyes light up with horror. “the first born grandchild..” she mumbles as she looks at you in fear and rage.

but you were just as surprised as everyone else, walking over to your aunt and snatching the letter, reading it out loud. “my lovely, my only grandchild. you are the owner to the house now and everything inside it, please treat it with respect and my dolls. goodbye.” you read as your whole family looked at you in surprise and anger, as to why you were getting it and not them.

your eyes trailed down to the bottom, and there read instructions and to not read them out loud. there was instructions for taking care of a house? ‘dear my lovely, my house isn’t a normal house— it’s a peculiar house. you’ll see how. as soon as you read this, you are needed back at the house, and only you. you must spend 1 week there and care for the dolls, like not getting dust on them, making sure that they’re where they’re suppose to be, and more that you’ll figure out on your own. but, take extra care of satoru, he lives from it. if you do not favourite satoru.. i don’t want to say what will happen but just favourite him and take care of him as i did.’ was what she left you with, no furthermore instructions.

so, not trying to disobey your grandmother, you had your mother drive you to the house in an instant. using the key under the doormat to open the house, saying your bids to your mother as she drove off, leaving you alone in the house.

the lights are off, the scent of the house is off too. instead of it smelling like an empty void of dust, it smelt like a warm cinnamon-vanilla scent. you sniff around as you walk to the light, and see how the whole house was completely furnished with modern furniture. was someone already living in this house?

you gulped as you remembered your grandmas instructions clearly. walking over to the dolls and seeing if they were okay, seeing how they were still in ordered and satoru being in the middle as always, seeing how his precious face never changed. you were now the same age as satoru was, from what your grandma told you, he was 19, and you were close to turning 19.

“hi satoru.. hi everyone else.’ you mumbled quietly, expecting a reply but knowing you weren’t going to get one. you yawned as you did your instructions clearly and went up to your childhood room there, seeing how everything was the same and perfectly clean. you yawned again as you didn’t bother getting undressed, hoping right into bed and tucking yourself in as you drift off to sleep.

but, certain times in the night, you would wake up to a whine of a males voice, and see piercing blue eyes stare at you. but each time you shined your phones flashlight at it, it would disappear like you were seeing things. but you still went back to sleep.

sleeping at your grandmas was always quiet, especially in the mornings. waking up and stretching your arms as you yawned audibly, turning to your side and opening your eyes. you screamed slightly as you woke up to satoru, laying in bed with you.

you pulled the cover over yourself as you sat up, gulping as you look at the doll who was in his pjs, wondering how he got there.

you store at him in pure confusion and horror, his eyes never moving and his lips staying in that warm smile. you yawned again as you probably changed him yourself and put him in bed with you, since it was probably on your grandmas weird instructions.

you sighed as you got up from bed, taking satoru with you, feeling his human like skin and carrying him slightly down the stairs, sort of dragging him as you struggle to bring him back down, wondering how you did this yesterday.

you placed him back in his spot, saying good morning to everyone, forgetting to exclude them from satoru and give him his own good morning. looking back at satoru and seeing how his mouth expression had changed slightly. his cheeks were still jolly, but his lips curved down in a sort of pout kind of way. maybe you were seeing things.

another helpless day goes by of taking care of the dolls and satoru, cleaning the house as you yawn tiredly and get cozy in your bed. but you felt that same pair of blue eyes on you, and each time you woke up to see them, they would be closer and closer. you gulped nervously, feeling them right above you as you didn’t dare to open your eyes, scared of what might be there as you toss and turn in your sleep.

the next morning, you scream again. this time beside satoru was looking dead in your eyes with his cheeks low and his pout even lower, with furrowed eyebrows. ‘how the fuck was he doing this?’ you questioned to yourself, knowing that it wasn’t you who brought him up since it had hurt your arm the time you brought him down.

you gulp as you struggle bringing him down again, putting him back in his spot as you see the other dolls, with distorted faces. your eyes widen in fear, looking all around the doll room and seeing how some of them were crying or some of them were angry, shivering in the spot.

“they’re crying because of you.” you screamed as you heard another voice, the same male voice you heard whining. turning around and seeing how satoru moved from his spot, grabbing your hand and cupping it with his own, looking at you in anger.

“they’re hurting, because of you.” he pouts mockingly as he whispers in your ear. you trembled in fear and confusion, onto how a doll was talking to you like this. you realize what your grandma meant by take extra care of satoru, satoru was a real doll. and he was satans spawn.

“cmon lovely, grandma not leave you enough instructions?” he giggles teasingly as he walks around you, letting your hand go as he suddenly starts walking to the glass cabinets with the other miniature dolls. “take extra care of satoru!” he recites what she said in the letter, making you tremble in fear even more as he brushed his hand against the cabinet, before breaking in and grabbing one of the dolls by its neck, strangling it.

“thought you would’ve known better.” he mumbles disappointedly as he strangles the poor other dolls, like it’s alive. he giggles again as he turns over to you. “forgot that mortals can’t hear the dolls screaming, he’s begging for you to help him.” he pouts mockingly again, finding it amusing on how he’s milking the fear out of you.

“good thing that old hag died, i was getting tired of waiting for you. almost killed her myself!” he smiled all happily as he throws the doll on the ground. your eyes watching it fall and noticing the life that was in its eyes, is now gone.

“w-what are you talking about..” you saw pathetically as it draws a giggle from him again, tracing his hand on another cabinet and breaking the glass, reaching in for another one that looked exactly like your aunt, strangling her too.

“grandma didn’t tell you? she signed a contract with the devil for wealth. the contract was that the devil sends someone worthy and the mortal— your grandma in this case gives her soul away. but i wanted something more, I wanted you. i saw you in her future, your poor innocent grandma was only 23 when she signed her soul away.” he explained briefly as you watch the colour drain out of your aunt like dolls face fades away.

“and! here’s the best part! i offered my protection from the devil coming back and taking more from her, in exchange for your hand!” he threw your aunt like doll on the ground and smashed its head with his foot, watching it crumble to pieces. but your mind was on his words, you were going to be marrying a doll?

“cmon wifey, we have so much to do.” he says as he walks over to you, using his devil powers to pour gasoline all the cabinets filled with dolls, your eyes making contact with the dolls that looked like your family members, and realizing that all these dolls here were people you knew in real life. taking your hand and kissing it as he pulls a lighter out, throwing it to the cabinet behind you both as he rushes you guys out of the room, turning your head around and seeing the dolls light up in flames. your innocent eyes never leaving the fire, not knowing that those dolls that looked like your family, were actually voodoo dolls.

#jujutsu gojo #gojo x you #gojo satoru #cute #dolls #reborn dolls #the devil wears prada #anime #gojo smut

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drdemonprince · 8 days ago

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Hey so i'm going through some stuff, and processing that by writing

In your professional opinion, is it... cool to blog about exes? Firmly anonymised, and entirely about my feelings but still. Is it freak weirdo shit or just messy bitch shit

I was once read the advice that you should never write about a person if you want to continue having that person in your life. Obviously, this is is advice I have not taken. I have written about my mom, my sister, my grandparents, my cousins, aunts, and uncles, current partners, ex-partners, friends, and coworkers. Several of these people have been very very angry with me for how I described them, or have been hurt, and it has damaged some relationships profoundly and caused others to end. Though I have often endeavored to anonymize my accounts, create composite characters, and give stories in my life the benefit of time, I have still paid quite the price. I wouldn't change the creative calling that I have listened to, or undo almost anything that I've published in no matter how formal or informal a form. But there have been costs, and perhaps it was for the best I didn't fully appreciate what they could be when I was starting out, because otherwise I might not have done any of it.

I say all of this just to give you things to consider. I'm not the one to make declarations about what is okay or what is not okay, I try not to moralize like that. It doesn't matter whether I think it's fine, whether I think you are entitled to your art, your processing, and whatever camaraderie might come of it. Regardless of the action's rightness or wrongness, other things may arise from it, too. You may alienate people or hurt them, someone might crack your anonymized code, people might sympathize and offer you community, friends or partners might grow distant because they fear getting the same vagueblog treatment should they ever wrong you. A great number of things might happen, some good, some not so great, and you can only undertake what you think is worth it for you, and weather whatever may come from it.

If what you are needing is a space to vent, there are diaries and private google docs for that. If what you seek is camaraderie, a blog, subreddit, or social media page may very well give you what you want. If you want there to be some art in this, you may find it. I certainly have. I would not be above bitching about an ex anonymously online. I have done it many many times. And it felt good and some other people resonated with it, and good things came of it, and also someone that I adored for ten years and still think about all the time will probably never ever talk to me and my mom treats me funny because my vindictiveness has scared her. I think that is unlikely to happen to you, but what is published publicly exists forever and no longer belongs to you. So just be aware of that.

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reveluving · 1 year ago

Text

the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader

summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!

a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;

Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.”

It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.

Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time.

Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.

“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice.

The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.

“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.

“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”

Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.

Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.

And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it.

Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.

As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.

Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.

"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you."

It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.

Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that.

Not yet.

You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off.

Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home.

The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.

Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them.

Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.

For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.

After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.

Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.”

You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free.

Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…

Oh, Irene.

She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it.

The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger.

You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.

You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.

Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.

“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.

“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.

“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.

“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”

You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”

“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.

“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.

“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”

“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.

“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.

“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.

“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”

“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement.

“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.

“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.

“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”

You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead.

“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them."

It would do no good, but it was worth trying.

"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”

He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”

You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room.

You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene.

“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”

Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out.

“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them.

He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.

"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys."

They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?"

"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.

"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.

"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile.

"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing."

"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy."

That's all they ever wanted.

The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is.

Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.

By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other.

Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.

"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.

"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back."

You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.

Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.

Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.

Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.

But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.

"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back.

"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.

"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.

"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.

"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?"

"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.

"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.

"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?"

No reply.

"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.

“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out.

“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings.

“How big?”

“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.

Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants.

No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it.

He just had to play it safe.

He slowly broke into a sinister smile.

“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#reve's quirky reverie 🕷#— reve's reverie 🌹#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #colonel flag #colonel rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #tss 2021 #tss #joel kinnaman #husband rick #hubby rick

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gremlinmodetweeker · 1 month ago

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I don't know if you're taking request right now, so please excuse me if this is bad timing. The way you right Simon is so, so, so, well. Your Ghost Icks and that other one-shot of him buying a snake was chefs kiss. You capture him unlike the other writers here. My request is about relationships, how would a first kiss between Ghost and the reader would be? It can be in any scenario really. Like a fifth or sixth date (if they go on one). I apologize if this ask is not of your time.

Okay so I'm so so sorry for this taking so much time, but I think this little ficlet took a bit longer to put together than I expected. Sometimes I get a little mental block and for some reason I just kept getting stuck! However, I figured that this might be a good little story to work with, so enjoy this little drabble I wrote!

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t you inside?”

Your boyfriend shifted side to side as he tried to think of a reasonable answer. Anything would be ncier than the truth. Anything would be easier, but how could he tell you?

“I just like lookin’ at the stars,” Simon whispered as you stepped out to stand on the balcony with him.

“Didn’t take you for much of an astronomer,” you muttered as you carefully stood by his side.

“I’m not,” he chuffed.

You gave him a tight smile, “I know.”

Simon’s eyes crawled over your form before darting back to the warm light coming from indoors. A peel of laughter fluttered against the glass door, muffled by snow outside.

“You should go back in,” Simon said quietly.

“But I want to spend time with my boyfriend,” you said back, “that’s not a crime, is it?”

Simon shook his head silently.

You smiled and carefully leaned against the freezing metal railing, careful to not let the snow soak into your clothes.

“You know,” you started quietly, “you don’t have to pretend to be happy for me.”

Simon scowled, “I’m not pretending anything.”

You frowned, “Si, I’m not mad. It’s okay to not be okay.”

Simon rolled his eyes, “You’re going and giving me the therapy talk again?”

You huffed.

“I’m not giving you the ‘therapy talk’,” you looked out to the cold streets below, “I’m worried about you.”

“That’s a first,” Simon sniffed.

“I always care about you,” you retorted.

“You do,” Simon acquiesced, “not everybody else.”

“But what about all your squadmates? They really seem to like you,” you offered as you held out a hand for his.

Simon looked at your hand and glanced away, “I guess. But I don’t have much else. Not like you.”

You let your hand drop back to your side, “Is that what this is about?”

Simon hung his head down to his chest.

“They care about you too,” you offered, “just because they’re my family it doesn’t mean they don’t care about you too.”

“Seeing them all so happy…” Simon shook his head, “it’s different.”

“Different than your home?” you offered.

“Very,” Simon agreed.

A siren screamed by in the distance as a crowd of college students laughed below you. The warm city lights glowed like bright stars running along the streets, twinkling in the night with a friendly wink. Down the road you could see the traffic lights changing to red.

“Does it hurt?” you asked quietly.

“Always,” Simon admitted.

You watched a woman push her baby stroller through the snow below you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You shouldn’t be sorry for being happy,” Simon grumbled.

“But what about-”

“Don’t care,” Simon grunted, “don’t be sorry for being happy.”

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest.

You looked out over the skyline with a faint smile, “I know it’s hard, but it means a lot that you came over. I don’t know if I could do this on my own.”

Simon looked at you quizzically, “It looks like you’re enjoying yourself in there.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “every family has its problems, and we have ours. It’s sometimes hard listening to my uncle saying some things, and I hate seeing how my aunt treats my other uncle. It’s hard, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Me being here helps that how?” Simon asked.

“Well, you got me out here, right?” you chuckled and took reached out your hand again.

Simon looked down at your hand and smiled. He took it into his and squeezed it lightly, “I guess I did.”

“You’re not all bad, you know,” you kissed the back of his hand before letting your hands drop down together.

“I hope not,” Simon let out a long breath through his nose.

“You’re not,” you affirmed and stepped close to his side, “I promise.”

Simon looked out at the skyline before looking back down at you. He smiled and brushed your hair to the side of your ear.

“You’re too good for me,” he whispered.

“I’m only as good as you are,” you replied with a small smile.

Simon rested his forehead against yours, warming your face with his tired breath. You reached up to run your hand through the back of his short-cropped hair and sighed.

“If we’re only as good as each other, then maybe both of us are damned,” Simon said under his breath.

“Then let’s be damned together,” you reached up and tugged him close.

His lips were hard, cracked, chapped with age and cigarettes and pain. You took all of it into your heart as you kissed him back. He wove a hand behind the back of your head and held you close, almost as though he was afraid of what would happen if he let go. When he pulled back, his eyes were half-closed and tired.

“You okay now?” you asked.

“Better,” Simon gruffed, “but only just a bit.”

“Do you wanna go back in yet?” you asked.

Simon glanced behind him before shaking his head, “Give me another ten.”

You traced a line of muscle down his neck to below his coat.

You looked up at him hopefully, “Can I kiss you again?”

Simon nodded and leaned in close, “As much as you like.”

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