#all the living children crying for their dead parents
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mostly-mundane-atla · 10 months ago
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I've been on an unofficial hiatus for a while because recovery and adjusting to disability are both really hard, but i feel i do have to say something.
I am not pro-Israel. It's not just my political allignment that makes it impossible, but also my moral code.
Palestinian civilians have been displaced, wrongfullu incarcerated, killed, and otherwise subject to the Israeli government's military violence for decades now, plenty among them for peacefully protesting. Mandatory military service for Israeli citizens means any young adult who isn't willing to face jailtime for refusing to enlist is expected to be a tool of that military violence, and any who do enlist and say something in poor taste or genuinely offensive about it on social media becomes a much easier target than the ones actually in charge. Israeli soldiers ar facing depression and suicidal ideation from this war and Palestinian civilians are resorting to eating animal feed due to aid being cut off.
It is not Holocaust Inversion to say that the state of Israel is oppressing Palestinians
It is not Blood Libel to say Palestinians have had to look through rubble to find their dead childrens' body parts
Jewish people who cannot condone the actions of Israel for moral reasons do not deserve to be called self-hating for it
A massive loss of lives is never good, and it saddens me to hear of Israeli civilian deaths. I wish all those peaceful protests worked and this level of desperation had never been reached, but i cannot, in good conscience, condemn violent resistence to occupation, no matter who it comes from. Doing so cracks open the door for anyone to condemn any group they have a political grudge against for the same thing, and also to claim that they also deserve the total anihilation Israel seems intent on inflicting upon Gaza.
I hope that this war is called off. I hope that all of the hostages can return home. I hope that the brave and compassionate Israeli citizens who see the cruelty people inflict in their name for what it is and try to put a stop to it are victorious. I hope that from the River Jordan to the Mediteranian sea, Palestinians can walk freely among their grandparents' land without fear of bullets, bombs, or violence.
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timeisacephalopod · 1 year ago
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I saw a post the other day that kinda pushed back on the way all coming of age movies are about sexuality and all high school stories basically center around who wants to fuck who and how that's like. Not really all coming of age and high school stories should offer since you know. Youth isn't about who you have a crush on and probably coming of age stories in particular should be far more diverse in subject matter than they are.
Honestly as someone who, when I was 'coming of age' age, hated coming of age stories and still do for the exact reason listed above (see the weird scene in It where we all sexualize a 13 year old girl because boys have crushes and surely there's no other way to portray this than feeling a child up with a camera to demonstrate boys have ~feelings~ Bev gets no equivalent scene because she's the object of affection rather than the subject feeling desire) I also wish there was diversity in those stories. And coming of age stories about adults- we don't stop going through huge life moments that change everything forever, but back to kids. When I was a kid I could have desperately used a coming of age story where the character has a sick and dying parent who does die by the end of the story and what happens after that. Granted I did just fine without it, but even without being asexual it's always irked me that coming of age stories don't seem to appreciate that kids have way larger problems and way better stories to tell then first crushes and first kisses for shit sake give kids who went through what I did as a kid some kind of story about what happens when your parent gets cancer and how complicated that is and stop assuming the biggest thing that happens around puberty is discovering sexuality that, if you were queer, you probably already noticed what you felt wasn't in a coming of age story anyway.
#winters ramblings#id actually LOVE to see a coming of age story about an immigrant child moving to a new country#and have the coming of age center around THAT instead of these bizarre vaguely adult explorations of sexuality#that honestly ive never related to anyway like maybe the allos get it but even THEY deserve more diversity in stories#SURELY even your local allos have a dad dying of cancer they desperately need to know what to do with#like deadass a therapist told me at 26 i was robbed as a child because of what i went through and i STILL cry when i think of that#but no coming of age is all sex shit because children according to adults dont have real issues#which tells me adukts writing the stories are MASSIVELY privileged or stunted by execs or straight up assune kids wont watch#a REAL coming of age story. also i want a coming of age story about a 40 year old who is going through a career change#and the struggles that come with late career change. the benefits of a late career change. all the complicated family goo around all this#just give me decent stories that arent too focused on fycking RELATIONSHIPS for once. have them there sure i dont care#but for FUCK sakes can we stop pretending a 13 year olds biggest concern us who they have a crush on??#my dad was DEAD and i knew only one other person who lost her mom way younger than me at 8#we did not understand each other and how could we when our situations were so different. BOTH of us were so highly alienated#because NO ONE not even each other could relate to a lot if the people around us. the only thing we DID have in common#was the sick feeling we got when someone would bitch about their parents having fair expectations or not giving them literally everything#we both had an 'at least you HAVE parents to hokd you to reasonable standards and all you do is SQUANDER it' even if our feelings werent#faur to our peers anymore than their feelings were fair to us. wheres the coming of age story about THAT#tell me a story about a 16 year old whos mom has been dead HALF her life already like my friend. i was lucky enough not to deal with that#until i was 24. she deserved better out if high school and coming of age stories too. believe it or not kids have REAL lives and problems#and im SO tired of no one writing anything but some sad kids books about it even if the books are SOMETHING to start with#like for shit sakes must NICEthat the worst thing YOU went through was realizing you had a sexuality but my queer ass#ALWAYS knew i was different and highschool highlighted that a BUNCH so unless we're exploring aroace teens that doesnt appeal either#great yet ANOTHER story about straight teenagers because THEYRE the ones who need guidance on how to express themselves#like they dont see strsight people storoes and sexuality EVERYWHERE plus the ACTUAL opportunity to date in high school#that most queer kids dont get or dont get in the same way. why is THAT the only story being told when its the most saturated and BORING#and also ignores that kids have REAL issues and NO angency. explore THAT. do ANYTHING but yet another fucking coming of age story#about straight kids having crushes on each other and thats IT like come on SERIOUSLY
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johndonneswife · 1 year ago
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my sister needs a job omg
#my grandma was diagnosed with lung cancer like two days ago and isn’t doing well and my sister has made it her entire personality#it’s gross#‘i’m so exhausted i haven’t slept i haven’t eaten all i���ve been doing is caring for poor nani’#bitch stfu no one asked you to do that!!! she has children! she has nurses!#i guarantee she is going to milk this as long as she can#bc she turned down the only job she was offered bc she felt like it didn’t pay enough#news flash you have a psy d idk why you thought you’d be making 6 figures right out of grad school#she’s turning into everything i hate#she also keeps talking about my grandma as if she’s dead or unable communicate it’s so fucking weird#she’s alive LOL she is right there she is a living breathing human being who is still capable of making her own decisions#she texted all of our cousins like giving updates about my grandma’s condition and saying how nice it was that we all called her#and sent her stuff#like we know she appreciated it. we spoke to her. we spoke to our parents who are with her at the hospital#my sister needs a fucking life and a job and to grow the fuck up!#if/when my grandma passess i guarantee my sister is going to be like: i gave up everything to care for MY grandmother. what did YOU do?#because that’s the kind of person she is lol#again no one fucking asked you or needs you to do this omg#anyway the past 7 days have sucked ass like it hasn’t all been bad but it’s just one thing after the other#i am excited to be in california until tuesday. WHAT should we do? should we go to catalina island? idk is it nice there?#i’m traumatized and don’t want to rent a car rn hahaha crying screaming#.
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vividxpages · 2 months ago
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*✧・゚: *✧・゚ "in the dead of night"・゚✧*: ・゚✧*
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pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 7000
summary: when Jace is attending a late council meeting, two hired assassins take their chance to sneak into your chambers and hold you captive. Taken to the dragon caves below and meant to be slain by your own betrothed’s dragon, you have to trust the bond between Vermax and you is strong enough to escape your captor’s murderous plans.
warnings: soft!reader, fluffy start but HEAVY angst (reader being held captive by two assassins similar to Blood and Cheese), physical violence (slapping, hair pulling), verbal abuse, threats of rape and violence, Vermax being Vermax and also protective of reader, hurt/comfort, shock and crying, Jacaerys being a caring betrothed, Rhaenyra being the best mother in law, aftermath of trauma, healing, hopeful ending
a/n: please mind the warnings for this story, it’s my angstiest so far! Big thanks to @princessvelaryon and @princesschimchim1325 for being awesome and inspiring me to write this!
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You smiled to yourself as you held two small wooden figures in your hands, a princess and a prince, their hands linked together and small attires made of cotton and wool. When you were younger, you remembered playing with them for hours, creating little scenarios of the prince who might sweep you off your feet someday.
Now, many years later, you had found the love of your life in Prince Jacaerys.
Ever since your own parents had died too young, Jace’s family had welcomed you as if you were one of them by blood, making you a home at Dragonstone and accepting you with open arms as theirs. Perhaps, a huge part of it was because Rhaenyra’s oldest son had been in love with you ever since he had first laid eyes on you, but there was more to it. His mother adored you and you got alone with his siblings and cousins and brought a joy into their house that was much needed in those dark times of war.
This afternoon, you were sitting on the soft fur carpet in one of the big living rooms of the castle, Rhaenyra’s twins peacefully playing with their wooden toys all around you. Earlier, Baela and Rhaena had joined you for a chat and the newest gossip, but you didn’t mind being alone with the kids as well, your own inner child always coming down around their soft souls.
You let out a playful gasp as little Viserys assembled a row of knights on their horses along the imaginary street you had built together. “Are your noble knights going to a tournament, Vis?”
The boy nodded timidly at you, letting one of the horses gallop forward and making you laugh.
Your betrothed Jacaerys leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly as he watched you. Little Aegon had snuggled close to you and you helped Viserys move the toy carriage around the carpet.
You looked up as he pushed himself off the frame, walking towards you with pure adoration in his eyes. “Oh hello. I didn’t hear you enter.” You said, letting your hand be lifted by him so he could press a soft kiss against your knuckles.
Moving to stand and placing Aegon on the ground, he laid a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to interrupt your play. What adventures is my princess going on today? Have my brothers been behaving?”
“They are the sweetest.” You told him in all honesty, your heart melting at the two little blond boys in front of you. Whenever you spent time with Jace’s smaller siblings, you could not help but notice how your heart expanded and spoke to a deep part in you that wished for children of your own someday. “We were playing a carriage ride to a tournament, I believe, but then a dragon escaped and now we have to look for him.”
Jace squatted down for a moment and handed Aegon a rattle shaped like the bell of a sept, which he immediately took with a toothless grin and tried out. You watched your betrothed with a soft heart and thought what a wonderful father he’d make…
“I dream of the day this will be our life someday.” He confessed to you, the corner of his plump lips lifting sadly. “When there is peace in the realm and we have time to take care of our future children together.”
“I wish for nothing else.” You replied softly, your heart blooming with love for him.
For a moment, Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to sit down and join you and his little brothers, but as you knew your hard-working betrothed all too well, he sighed and stood up again, careful not to step on the big skirts draped around you like a blooming flower.
“There will be a late council meeting this evening.” Jacaerys announced to you, his displeased expression betraying him. “Everyone of the council and the dragon keepers will sit together to discuss. I wouldn’t ask you to join us, it will be very boring and entirely unnecessary.”
You chuckled, knowing all too well how different Jace would do many things if his say in the matters of his mother would be of more weight. But at the same time, you were glad, Rhaenyra kept him sheltered and protected with you for now, at Dragonstone where it was the safest place for the future king and his queen.
“Will you come to bed later?” You asked shyly, although it was not uncommon for the prince and you to share a bed before your marriage had even been consummated.
A small and narrow passage connected your room to Jacaerys’ and you had often made use of it, whether you wanted someone to talk to before heading to bed or were in need of his warm embrace before you eventually drifted off into an innocent sleep together. When he was gone or bound to duties, you usually made yourself comfortable in his bed, but perhaps you’d return to your own tonight if the meeting was going to take a while before he’d be released.
Jacaerys smiled softly at you and nodded before he raised your hand towards his lips. “I will. Don’t stay up too late, I’ll be with you as soon as I can, I promise.”
You hummed pleased and let him kiss your knuckles. “I hope it won’t be too long. And don’t take their words to heart too much, Jace. You’re the prince and they’re lucky to have you.”
“It is me who is lucky to have you, my beloved.” He said and watched in delight as you blushed at his appreciation. “My safe haven, my light.”
Jacaerys leaned down, softly cupping your cheek before he gently kissed your lips, your back arching a little to reach him better. Your lips brushed tenderly against one another and you sighed in bliss at his open affections for you.
You smiled at him when you separated, squeezing his hand in yours. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”
“I love you.I’ll do my best to hurry.” He promised, hugging his little toddler brothers as well and softly stroking their hair before he departed. You sighed to yourself, eager to have the hours pass and let the two of you be reunited again as little Aegon presented you a wood dragon, silently asking you to rejoin their play..
“Alright, where were we, my princes?”
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Being alone in your private chambers had become a rarity since you had been promised to Jacaerys.
You listened to the quietness of the room, the fire cackling in the pit as you sat on your bed and combed out your hair. You had taken a bath after bringing the princes to their nurseries and changed into something comfortable for the night.
The small evidence of Jace’s frequent visits to your room were visible all over the place. A cloak of his was thrown over one of your chairs by the fire and one of his books laid open by your desk. Even his smell still faintly clung to your pillows, a little gift from the last time he had fallen asleep here, not bothering to retreat back to his own chamber under your soft and lingering touches to his hair.
You could not even remember the last time the connecting door between your rooms had been closed.
You let out a small sigh as you sunk into bed, watching the dark outside of your window for a while. The council meeting must’ve been going on for a while now and you tried to read a few pages to keep you awake, not wanting to miss the moment Jace would come to you.
The time went by and your eyelids kept dropping.
But after a while, the door to your chamber opened and a wide smile split your face as you sat up in your bed, ready to welcome Jace back. Your hair fell over your shoulders, the blanket slipping down your body a little, but just a second later, everything in you froze to a stop.
Two men entered your room, their clothes dirty and faces dark as they took you in. These weren’t your guards and as one of them unsheathed a blade from his belt, you opened your mouth to scream.
They were on you in a heartbeat.
One of them drew the blankets off the bed while the other grabbed your hair, dragging you from the mattress and onto the floor, every sound in your throat seizing up and choked off by their sudden display of violence.
You were not a fighter, never had been. You stood no chance as they manhandled you in their middle, the taller one quickly looking over his shoulder as you struggled to no use against their tight grip.
“Look at that.” You heard close to your ear, the deep raspy voice sending shivers down your spine. “The bastard prince’s little bird, right between us. What would your man say now if he could see you like this, huh?”
You whimpered when your head was tugged back, the other gripping your wrists and making quick work of a tight rope around them, scratching over your soft skin and successfully binding you.
“Who are you?” You demanded to know, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You were shaking from head to toe, your body and mind gone into overdrive when they had first laid hands on you.
They shared a grin with each other. “Does it matter? All you have to know is we’re not your fucking maids. And that you will die tonight, princess. Now be a good girl and shut the fuck up.”
You tried to press your heels into the floor, to keep them from stirring you towards the door, but after a moment the tall one simply picked you up and carried you towards the door. Your nails scratched over the man’s back, but it was like he didn’t even feel it, his grip around your legs too tight for you to struggle and free yourself.
“Behave.”
You were set on your feet again, crowded by them against the door. You swallowed hard against the lump in your throat, your eyes flickering between the two of them. “Whoever paid you, their reward is not nearly enough for the misery my family will bring down on you when they find you. I am a princess of Dragonstone and you have no right to-“
They pushed you out of the door, not bothering to listen.
A horrified gasp escaped your lips as you stepped outside your chamber and nearly stumbled over the dead bodies of your two guards, bleeding out and cold on the floor. The sound echoed through the hall and before you knew what was happening, your head was pulled back by your hair and a hard hand slapped you across the face.
Pain exploded in your mind, blinding you for a moment before the sting ebbed away and was replaced with a dull throb in your cheek.
You held the palm of your trembling hand to your throbbing cheek, breathing hard as you recovered from the blow. “You will die for this.” You said oddly calm and collected. It had to be the shock, you could not think clearly, but you knew one thing for sure: “The prince will cut your hands off for laying hand on me.”
The tall one grinned as if it was an empty threat. “We will be long gone once your prince finds you, stupid cunt. And in what state that will be, I still have to decide.” His disgusting hungry gaze crept over your body, barely hidden underneath your thin sleeping gown. You wanted to throw up.
“You will lead us to the place where the dragons are.” The shorter one said. “We know the keepers are all at the meeting and you know ways where no guards keep patrol. And if you dare to scream or run to wake anyone, I’ll cut out your tongue and heart and throw it in front of the bastard prince’s feet.”
You swallowed down bitter tears, your head screaming at you to do something, anything. But your hands were painfully tied and you did not find your voice as you slowly began to walk with them through the castle.
In the past, you have had nightmares like this, terrible visions of you being powerless as hands held you down in the dark, doing horrible things to you. You sometimes had woken up screaming, but Jacaerys had been there for you every time, holding you until the worst of it was over and you slowly were able to calm down in his safe and warm embrace. Now, there was no one, all people living and working at Dragonstone either asleep or summoned by Rhaenyra and Jacaerys for the council meeting. By the time someone had discovered the corpses of your guards in front of your chambers, you’d likely be dead or taken to who knew where.
You walked through your home, shivering against the cool air with only the thin nightdress you wore on you, the dangerous presence of your captors behind your back. You knew Jacaerys would blame himself for leaving you alone and suddenly, a sorrow so consuming filled your chest, you choked on a quiet whimper. You had not even said goodbye…
“Shut the fuck up.” They hissed at you and one of them slung his arm around your waist, your fingers digging into his flesh in protest as cool metal suddenly rested against your ribcage. A dagger. “Be fucking quiet and keep walking.”
Soon, the air began to smell of salt and sea and you heard the distant crashing of the waves against the island. The entrance to the dragon caves came into sight and you turned around to face them.
“Now tell us, girl, where is your precious dragon?”
Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach, but before you could open your mouth for a reply, the other one of them shook his head. “No. Don’t be stupid. The beast will kill us right away if it sees their rider in our clutches. But…the bastard’s dragon. It’s a foul ill-tempered beast, isn’t it? Where is it?”
Vermax.
A protective wave washed through you and for a moment, you regained the little confidence you had before the man had laid his hand on you. “What do you want with the dragon? You are in no state to have a chance at killing him.”
They shared a look, both grinning viciously. One of them stepped up to you and touched your chin with his dirty hand, right where a fresh bruise from his violence bloomed. You tried to flinch away, but he held you close.
“We don’t mean to kill it, flower.” He told you, bloodthirst flickering over his features and making you sick. His knuckles brushed over the cut on your lip and you wanted to gag from disgust. “We’re going to watch as it kills you.”
Your mind was swimming as you led them through the darkness, watching their big shadows looming over your small own. The taller one still held his dagger against your waist and you knew he’d make use of it if he noticed you playing any games. There were wild beasts slumbering in the depths of these caves, but would they be faster at attacking your captors than the knife against your skin?
The hope in your chest thinned the further away you walked with them from where you knew your own dragon slept, but one last shimmer of it remained in you. You knew Vermax and he knew you just as Jacaerys did. You had to hold on to that.
“It’s here.” You announced quietly, your whisper echoing across the cave near the ocean. It was quiet here and you had to squint your eyes to make out the big nest at the end of the cave where a green-scaled dragon slept fitfully.
“Call it.” The smaller one muttered, his eyes fixed on the beast. You winced as the tip of the dagger pressed into your skin, a warning. “We will stand behind you and when it has come out, you will command it to kill you, you hear me? No tricks or I’ll gladly be the one to end your suffering, right after my friend here has had his fun with you, princess.”
You took a deep breath as they retreated into a safe distance.
„Naejot Māzīs, Vermax.“ You commanded shakingly and the sound of your familiar voice, the big pile of green and red in the corner of the cage moved, uncurling himself from his light slumber.
Jacaerys’ dragon blinked at you sleepily, a shudder going through his beautiful scales as he tilted his head to the side questioningly. When he spotted the two men in your company, he tensed, stepping forward and showing himself in his full height.
“Lykirī…“ You lifted your hands, trying to catch Vermax’ eyes again so he’d look at you instead of them.
With a low growl in his throat, he settled, stepping closer to you until his snout almost touched your outstretched hand.
“Say it, girl!” You heard the commanding voice behind you, in a safe distance of the beast that slowly blinked at you, considering. “We’re not going to wait much longer!”
You took a deep breath and looked Vermax in the snake-like eyes.
He met you with a calm stare, tilting his head to the side again, a deep rumble in his chest.
You had to trust in him now. You had to trust in the love Jacaerys and you were sharing and the bond between you and the dragons.
Out of the sudden, a heavy thrown stone hit you in the back and you gasped in pain, stumbling forward and almost slipping in a dirty puddle.
“DO IT!”
Trust in Vermax, just as you trust in your Jace.
“Dracarys.” You whispered finally and closed your eyes.
Vermax surged forward with a furious roar, one sharp claw in the ground, his wing shielding you from the scenery. Nearly pushing you out of the way, he advanced on the men who had threatened you with a snarl and warmth filled the large cave, fire burning low in his green-scaled stomach.
A horrible realization flickered over their faces as the green beast drew closer, their backs hitting the wall behind them as they looked at you one last time. “You fucking cunt-“
Vermax wiped out their miserable existence with one single breath of fire. Heat tore through the cave and you stumbled backwards as the dragon fire burned them and the scent of roasted human flesh reached your nose.
You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face in your hands as you listened to their screams. Their agony bounced off the stone walls and heat crept down your spine, but Vermax kept you close, the leathery feel of his wing a small comfort against your skin.
Suddenly, silence rang in your ears.
You dared to peek up over the protective curl of Vermax’ wings.
Where your captors had stood, only ashes and bones remained.
Vermax let out a self-satisfied growl, clearly pleased with what he had unleashed on the terrors. He bent down, blinking at you with his sharp eyes as if to make sure you were alright. Tears, both from the shock and gratitude, filled your eyes and you leaned your forehead against his snout, trying to take deep breaths to steady yourself.
You shrunk back as you heard footsteps in the caves, hurried steps running over gravel and through the water puddles, a flame throwing a long shadow over the walls. You felt Vermax tense, his wing drawing itself tighter around you. Any other threat advancing, he’d burn to the ground.
In the next moment, Jacaerys stormed into the chamber, his sword drawn as his other hand held a lit torch. His chest was heaving, sweat gathering at his hairline as he quickly took in the state of the room. He looked like he had run the length of the castle and you knew it likely had been the case.
Vermax snarled without threat, greeting his rider and lifting his wing to present you to your love.
Your eyes met and you let out a shuddering breath.
The sight of you was a thousand daggers to his heart.
Your face was smeared with soot and the blood from your split lip coated your chin, your hair unruly and disheveled from the way they had grabbed and dragged you along. Your silk dress was dirty and you shivered against the cold of the cave as you slung your bruised arms around yourself.
Behind you, Vermax hovered like a protective shadow and waited, willing to serve with Jacaerys now here with you.
As he took a step towards you, his boot made contact with the skulls of the assassins. Two of them, he realized and the rage surging through his veins was all-consuming. He looked down at their bones and wished to go back in time to kill them himself, over and over again until not even these mortal remains stayed behind.
But his own bloodlust vanished as he raced towards you, your own legs unsteady and finally giving out under you just as he reached you.
He fell to the ground with you in his arms, holding you tightly as you clawed your hand in his clothes, his heart breaking for you right underneath your tight grip. It was like any last strength in you had left, leaving you a broken and sobbing mess in his embrace.
“You’re safe, you’re safe…” Jace murmured into your ear, softly swaying you back and forth as you wept, the adrenaline and shock from the situation finally crashing down on you with full force. “Nothing is going to happen to you, I’m here…”
The Queen and the dragon keepers found the prince and his princess just like this.
Jacaerys was kneeling on the ground, the princess dissolved in tears in his arms and the ill-tempered beast that had saved his love curled around them, chortling comfortingly as the prince stroked her hair and whispered sweet nothings in her ear.
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
You had been escorted back to the castle, but you couldn’t say you remembered much from the journey. Your mind had gone into an odd state of survival, the girl from before the attack having retreated into a far corner of your mind.
The guards, now dead because of you, had been carried away in front of your door and you had stopped in the middle of the hallway, not able to go another step as you stared at the spot where maids were now scrubbing the blood from the floor.
“Come on, my dear.” Rhaenyra had gently told you and you tore your eyes away from the scene as your Queen and Jacaerys led you into his chambers instead. The warmth and unique scent of Jace’s quarters – the smell of old parchment and books, mingled with the wax of the candles and the smell of his sheets – enveloped you and you drew the cloak Jace had draped over your shivering form tightly around you.
Now, a little later, you were seated at Jace’s work table and blankly stared at your scraped hands in your lap.
Jacaerys had instantly expressed his dislike for an interrogation at this hour of the night, but you had shaken your head, willing to recount the situation to Rhaenyra as if words could wash away the poison they had brought onto you. Your skin felt coated with it and you feared the stain might never go away again.
Yet, you had told her and Jace what happened, slowly and quietly, and when you were done, Rhaenyra was holding your hand and Jacaerys looked as if he wanted to break something.
“My brave girl.” Rhaenyra murmured and softly cupped your cheek as she looked at the bruises on your face and neck. “You’ve fought enough for tonight, darling. I’ll call the maids and healers and-“
“No.” You cut her off, shivering at the prospect of unfamiliar hands on you, seeing the evidence of what had happened on your naked skin. You swallowed hard, your eyes filling with unshed tears again. “No one else. It’s- it’s alright, I can do it myself, I really can-“
Rhaenyra smiled sadly at you. “You are hurt, my dear.”
“I’m not broken.” You insisted, although you felt like it. You were shattered pieces on the ground.
“And no one says so, dear.”
Jacaerys, sensing you were on the verge of breaking down, knelt down next to your chair and caught your gaze with his. “I can help, if you want.” He offered quietly.
You looked back at him, conflicted. If Jace stayed, there’d come the point where he’d see the damage you had taken and you did not know what troubled you more; him seeing you like this or seeing him as his heart shattered for you.
“Jace.” Rhaenyra looked at him. “Perhaps a woman’s presence at this time is better suited for her. I’ll fetch you later, I promise, but she needs a moment for herself now, alright?”
He was tense, your beloved prince, but after a moment he nodded with a set jaw before he stood and looked at you one more time. “I’ll wait outside.”
You didn’t want to meet his sad expression, so you kept your gaze down as mother and son went to the door, talking in quick and hushed voices before Jace stepped outside and Rhaenyra returned to you.
She leaned down and brushed a little bit of soot from your cheeks, careful not to touch your split lip. “Vermax surely knows how to rain down fire on our enemies, hm?”
A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “He saved me. He knew exactly what was going on the moment I entered and he was intelligent enough to play along until the right moment had come.”
Rhaenyra hummed, offering you a hand to stand up. “And still, they only call my son’s dragon ill-tempered. How does a bath sound? I’m sure you’d like to step into more comfortable clothes, wouldn’t you?”
You nodded, longing for a simple cotton shirt, preferably one of Jace’s that smelled like home and warmth and safety.
Your future mother-in-law went to the big bath next to Jace’s bedroom with you, a steaming bath already having been drawn for you.
When you saw her drawing a stool close to the tub, your eyes widened and you were quick to interject: “I-I can do it myself, Your Grace, there is no need for you to-“
“Please let me help you just as I would help any other child of mine.” She interrupted you kindly and soon after, you gratefully sunk into the bath, your sore muscles relaxing in its warmth.
Rhaenyra helped you tilt your head back and you closed your eyes as warm water flowed over your hair and down your neck, tears of your own silently running down your damp cheeks. Your throat bobbed painfully as you let her work, the Queen’s gentle hands a mother’s comfort as they helped to get rid of the dirt from the caves and a root clinging to your skin.
“I have sent Jace to fetch an ointment for your bruises and cuts.” She told you quietly and you nodded silently, cupping some of your water to rinse off your face, careful not to touch your throbbing lip. “I want you to tell me if I should send him away for the night. You can be honest with me, dear.”
You sniffled, gladly accepting the towel she lent you after helping you out of the bathtub. After a moment, you rasped: “It is not him I am scared of. It’s just…I know it pains him to see me hurt.”
“He hurts because he hasn’t been there for you, my dear.” Rhaenyra explained softly and you sighed to yourself as you slipped into a silken robe, the fabric easy on the big bruise on your back and arms. Underneath, you already wore one of Jace’s long shirts, the fabric more of a dress on you. “If it is one thing I have learned, as someone who loves and is lucky enough to be loved, it’s that healing means accepting the help of others. No one will fault you if you want to be for yourself tonight, but I know Jace will do anything he can to help you recover from this, no matter what that might look like.”
You did not want to be alone.
You feared it, laying down in bed once again when the door could open at any moment and reveal the terrors, although Jacaerys had doubled the amount of guards outside his door, simply so you’d feel safe.
You wanted to feel sheltered and able to move past this with the one you loved more than anything else, the one who had first thought about when your life had been in grave danger.
You needed Jacaerys.
“Jace may come in again.” You said quietly, suppressing the urge to groan with every step. You had not seen it yet, but the pain the stone thrown to your back caused felt like a flare and you were sure the spot was already turning a deep shade of purple.
Rhaenyra led you towards Jace’s bed, seemingly pleased with your decision. “I’ll make my leave then. Sleep in tomorrow, the both of you. You need all the rest you can get.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” You squeezed her hand in yours, bowing your head in gratitude. “And thank you for helping me.”
She smiled at you one last time, although there was a strain to it, her worry over a sneak attack like this consuming her mind. Tomorrow they’d speak about this in council, but tonight she’d let her son do the rest, his wide eyes meeting hers when she opened the door and let him in.
You turned around to look at him, your damp hair falling over your shoulder and his clothes, a princess despite the cuts and bruises on your skin. Jacaerys slowly walked to you and your heart stung when you noticed his blood-shot eyes and how pale he still was. He was tense all over, yet he softened as he came to a stop in front of you.
“Where does it hurt?” He asked quietly, looking for your honesty and not a false promise towards him.
You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him.
For a moment, you simply stood in front of each other, forehead against forehead and breathing each other in. Hot tears welled up in your shut eyes, his closeness rescuing and suffocating you at once. Jace’s nose touched yours and his soft curls tickled your cheeks and for a second, you thought that everything might be alright again when the morning came.
“My back. My cheek and wrists…” You whispered, your breath tickling his lips. “I know I’ve bathed and changed and I’m safe in your rooms, but…it feels like they’ve put me apart and I’ve been assembled back together wrongly.”
He shook his head, swallowing against his own lump in his throat. “You could never be wrong, my love.”
Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously, only doubling the pain in the cut grazing it. “I’ve been so scared, Jace. When they entered my room- Anything could’ve happened, they could’ve done anything to me-“
You gasped both in relief and sorrow as his arms pulled you against him, the hug both grounding and warm, something you thought you’d lost forever mere hours ago. You were too exhausted to cry once more, but the horror over what else could’ve been done to you shook you to your very core.
“I’m never going to let something like this happen again.” Jace promised you darkly as he tightened his arms around you, soothingly brushing his hand through your hair as you rested the unwounded side of your face against his heart. “You will never have to be afraid again, I promise. I should’ve been there, I should’ve stopped them-“
“You didn’t know they were here.” You reminded him, but you could feel the fury radiating off his body, an all-consuming rage deeply rooted in him. “No one did. No one is to blame except for the ones who sent them, Jace.”
“And they will pay.” You could practically feel the daggers he was glaring at the wall behind you. But just after a moment, you felt his anger deflate as he softly kissed the top of your head and gently lifted your chin so he could look at you. “You’ve been fighting all alone tonight, but I am here now and I want to be of use, beloved. Will you let me help?”
“I don’t want to upset you.” You almost bit your lip before you remembered the pain.
His gaze softened endlessly and he tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear. There were lots of tangled emotions inside of him still, but he saw you, this sweet delicate girl he had fallen for ever since the beginning and knew he had to take care of you now. “You could never upset me, my beautiful strong princess.”
The words were mending on your shaken soul and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before you let him to his work.
“The maester said the salve might be a little cool on the skin.” Jace murmured and you nodded in understanding. “And he gave me ice, scratched from the old side of the island’s cliffs, for your cheek.”
You took the dripping bundle from his hand, sighing as the cold cloth touched your cheek, the swelling subtle so far yet inevitable to strengthen throughout the night. But every bruise and cut on your body was better than not living to see the sun rise in the morning. “I could apply the salve on my own?”
Jace shook his head. “Let me do this for you.”
He walked with you to his bed, helping you sit down as he knelt before you, devotion shimmering in his eyes. You realized that he needed this just as much as you did, to prove himself he was able to take care of you now, even if he had not been there for you then.
He cupped your healthy cheek as you covered the other one with your ice. “Should we start with your back?”
Jace helped you lift the fabric, only so much so he could see where the stone had struck you, a dull bruise blossoming right next to your spine. It was nothing he had not yet seen so far, still you felt self-conscious under his attentive eyes.
You held very still as Jacaerys began to carefully apply the ointment to the bruise, his finger drawing soft and soothing circles over the blue spot. His other hand touched your waist, just barely underneath the fabric of his shirt on you and you closed your eyes as the cooling sensation drew a little pain from you and let it vanish.
“Good?”
“Feels good…” You murmured and tried to crawl into the feeling, the tiny relief washing away a little of the darkness from before. With a small kiss to your nape, he let the shirt fall and cover you again.
Next came your sore wrists. He lifted both of them, seeing the red marks where the tight rope had cut into your skin and swallowing hard. He wanted to unleash Vermax on the dusty bones of your captors again until their remains were annihilated from this earth. Jace softly kissed both of them before he dipped his fingers into the small jar again and repeated his careful motions.
You made a small sound in your throat and he stopped instantly.
“Too hard?”
You shook your head. “My lip…”
He sat down beside you, the mattress dipping underneath his weight and bringing you closer to him. The cut wasn’t pretty, but no cut was and you did not shy away from him as he took in the damage, one of his hands still rubbing circles into your wrist.
You held your breath as his coated thumb touched your bottom lip, his touch light as a feather as the cooling salve instantly mended the throbbing. Your hand reached up to hold his wrist, not ready yet to let him go when his touch felt infinitely good for your aching body. There was nothing sexual about the way you breathed against the pad of his thumb, relishing his care and simply letting it wash over you, and for a while you were simply content like this, Jacaerys remaining close to you as you breathed through the slowly ebbing pain.
“Do you want me to braid your hair for the night?” He asked quietly like he had so many times before.
Your wonderful beloved Jace. You nodded gratefully as he shuffled once more on the bed and sat behind you. Kissing the back of your head and brushing your hair over your shoulders for you, he got to work.
Your body was lulled into relaxation as his fingers combed through your hair, loosely braiding it so you wouldn’t have to wake up with tangles and knots in the morning. His warmth was a comfort against your back and if the vicious bruise hadn’t been there, you would’ve leaned back against him, ready to melt into his tenderness.
“Vermax saw right through them.” You spoke up after a while, your eyelids drooping from time to time from exhaustion as Jace finished up his braid for you. “He didn’t let them see at first, but there was a moment where I knew he was going to protect me, that he knew what was happening.”
“He loves you as if you were his own rider.” Jace mumbled, affection for you and his dragon in his voice. “I am glad he had been there for you when I wasn’t.”
“I want the finest sheep the shepherds can organize for tomorrow.” You looked over your shoulder with determination and Jacaerys frowned at you, a question in his eyes. You welcomed the small sting your lip caused you when its corner lifted up into a weak smile: “I want Vermax to be rewarded for defending his rider’s princess so honorably.”
“And I’d be honored to be the one to select it for you, my princess.” Jace’s face darkened, fury swirling in his brown orbs. “I still wish they would’ve suffered more. They deserved much more than a quick death of fire.”
His revengeful words were nothing against the soft touch with which he doted on you and when he was done and brushed his fingers once more over your hair, your body wanted to sink into his pillows and melt into them.
Jace laid down with you, carefully adjusting his position beside you so he wouldn’t accidently bump into your sore body. You exhaled deeply when your head touched his pillow, smelling so comfortingly of him. You could not bear to lie on your back, so you snuggled into Jace’s bed on your stomach, hugging his pillow and turning your head so you could look at your love.
He was resting on his side, his brown eyes searching for any discomfort you might have. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, towards the door of his chambers.
“You are safe now, I promise.” Jace whispered and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your nose. “There are five guards outside and my sword leans against the bed. I’m here. Nothing bad will ever befall you again, my love, I swear it with my life.”
You gave him a tiny nod and tried to relax, although it was hard to keep the shadows lingering in the corners of the room at bay. You wiggled one of your hands out from under the pillow and found his, tugging him closer until his lean body warmed your side, one of his hands resting securely on your lower back.
“Tomorrow, I want to take a walk to the cliffs.” You whispered, longing for the fresh air and its cleansing effect.
Jacaerys smiled. “Then it will be arranged. Does my princess wish for any company?”
You nodded timidly, his playful undertone distracting you from the dull throb underneath the ointments. “And I want to have a picnic if the sun is out, with all my favorite things.”
“I’ll tell the kitchens then, first thing in the morning. They’ll be happy to please their future queen.”
“And when I’m healed, I want you to kiss me…” Your eyes drooped, the exhaustion from the night overpowering the little anxiety that remained in you.
“Your wish is my command...” Jacaerys mumbled back, his eyes on you as you slowly drifted off into a well-deserved sleep. He had not been entirely honest with you, there were many things he wanted to do.
He watched you sleep beside him, the most innocent sweet being he knew, covered with his warm clothes and bruises on your skin. Jace still held your hand and was not willing to let it go for the rest of the night.
At the soonest time, he’d convene a council meeting and strengthen the security around Dragonstone. He already had caught word of Daemon wreaking havoc on the guard unions patrolling around the castle for not being more attentive, for the princess was one of his favorite people in this family and Jace knew he’d have an ally for his cause.
He’d take his revenge for you.
But for now, he knew you needed him more than ever, and tomorrow he’d do his best to make you happy again. 
He could almost see it in the dark of the room, your eyes closed blissfully against the sunbeams, your hair dancing with the wind as you walked hand in hand as you had done so many times as children. You’d eat ripe peaches and cake and slowly, this incident would move past you until it was only what it was; a shadow in the corner, in the dead of night…
my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss
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kiss-me-muchoo · 4 months ago
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𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞? || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚
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part one: here || part two; i’ve been the archer
summary_ after returning from Egypt, you are set to marry your half brother Geta. When you fall in love with General Marcus Acaius, your brother tries everything to prevent you from slipping away from him.
warnings_CRINGE, age gap!, semi incest (do not romanticize irl) reader x Geta, drama, angst, VERY quick love confessions, implied SMUT +18
NOTES_ who’s afraid of little old me?, I just wished there were gallows in Ancient Rome, listen to my awful playlist for Marcus and the classic I have for Pedro bb.
♪ ♫ Pedro playlist + Marcus’s playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
If there was something you’d never miss… were the carmine sunsets. Those lasted more than usual. That kept the beginning of the night warm and made you the silent promise of another good day by the following morning.
It had been easy for your father to send you away as soon as your mother quit their marriage. Your brother was a big inconvenience and a hidden mistake that shattered your little wealthy family. Under the cautious look of the Roman Senate, your parents were still bonded in a strong marriage. But the truth was that your father never truly loved the woman who gave birth to you. Which led to your mother leaving for Egypt, a Roman Province. Soon after her departure, you were sent to Alexandria too.
Each day was a boost to your status. Learning a vast variety of languages and dialects, learning different types of dances, being able to handle weapons, and gaining control over the Egyptian cities, to help your powerful father; The Emperor.
You barely missed Rome. Your mother was a cold Empress that loosened all the knots your father could have tightened around you. Growing up used to the Egyptian parties, drinking the finest beer and bread. Taking occasional lovers since virginity was not a necessity for marriage in Egyptian society. One of those lovers specifically, was a tall warrior with sun-kissed bronze skin that transformed you into a woman in every aspect you couldn’t discover by yourself. It was a shame when he died after a bad injury during war.
In the present, being in your first years as a young woman, things were likely to change, and you were very aware of it. That didn’t stop you from having the time of your life in the vivid city of Alexandria. With very few friends, a dead lover, and a dream.
Every night you savored those carmine sunsets to pray to Venus. Perhaps your dream of finding a true love hadn’t happened yet due to praying to her instead to Hathor; the god of love in Egyptian territory. Nevertheless, you intended to marry a man who was ridiculously, recklessly, and borderline obsessed with you. You wanted to live the broken dream of your mother.
Until desires were abruptly paused one night. When you received a letter from your father.
“A letter from the Emperor. It is the wish of your father to have you back in Rome” Your walls crumbled into pieces. The face of shock was splashed all across your face as you listened to your mother.
“What motivated his decision?”
“I can assure you, I don’t know, my child,” your mother says vaguely, tending his favorite flowers inside the palace.
“Do not lie to me, mother” she sighs and suddenly, she starts crying. You don’t know what to do, but the sight unsettles you.
“He wants you to marry Geta…” your eyes get impossibly wide open, and you gasp in shock.
“My brother?” your mother nods. You pace back and forth, wondering why and how could your father come to that conclusion.
Although you were used to attending weddings in Egypt that came from a mother marrying her son, to a brother marrying his sister, it was… awkward. This was the boy that destroyed your family, the boy that would take half of your rights as heir was meant to be your husband and father of your children.
The mere thought scares you.
“Will you accompany me?” It’s the first thing you come up with.
“I must stay here since Egypt won’t have you now” You frown at her words. But your throat tightens, defying to produce tears that quickly threaten to spill everywhere.
“Be strong, remember everything I’ve taught you. No men will defy the tenacity of the emperor’s daughter.” you nod, your eyes prickling with fear that explodes in your chest.
“And in between, find the love I couldn’t keep, no matter what, y/n…”
“I’m seeing you again, Right, mother?” she nods, giving you a cold hug.
“I’ll always be here…”
For the first time, the carmine sunset does not bring you peace. Your mind is edging towards collapse as you approach Rome. As the light of the light leaves, you question everything. So many questions and nothing of time.
There were no shattered crystals after dinner as you expected. Your brother Geta welcomed you in Rome with excitement and it confused you even more. He gave you a short and personal tour of his newest garden and prepared the finest banquet made by all of the servants.
Geta is a sole copy of your father. Same mannerisms and style. Only behind his attentive look, you were aware of the sadistic man who talked to you with respect.
“Where is Father?” you ask him, sipping at your wine.
“An important meeting surged. He’ll join us tomorrow, we are preparing vast festivities”
“Festivities for what?” he smiles, you don’t like how compassionate and polite he’s being.
“Our marriage, soror” The heavy makeup on his face does everything to hide the truth of the narcissistic man he is.
You could swear he hated you because your mother was the sovereign empress and you the rightful heir. Your father just happened to have two wives and two kids at the same time.
And despite everything, you didn’t hate your brother. You despised her mother for drawing your own apart from your father. For convincing him to send you away from your solemn fair future. For transforming your brother into some incompetent who seemed to have a hunger for chaos and madness.
“I must thank you, for welcoming me… despite our background differences” It takes him aback. Geta expected a disheveled girl, a rebellious female who followed the ways of the savages; the Egyptians. But he encountered a bright and marvelous sister who tried to act with peace after being so far from home for so long.
“I wished we could’ve grown together, like a united family” you admit coldly, avoiding the whole marriage issue.
“We will be a family, y/n. I’ll make sure of that” he says hiding his lips in his cup of wine and it sends shivers running down your spine.
Geta sees how you stand up and politely push forward the chair you were seated in; excellent manners.
“As a tradition of mine, I’ll see the sunset and pray before going to rest. Please excuse me….” your brother nods, still processing your words as you leave the imposing place where you were born. You desperately need fresh air.
Near there’s a meadow with empty spaces. It’s just a piece of land that soon would probably serve to build another coliseum.
One thing is noticeable. Sunsets in Rome aren’t carmine… they are mauve. And for some reason, you can’t feel peace.
But you hold tight to your dream. Your happiness is what you’ve prioritized ever since a teenager.
That’s why you hadn’t failed a day to pray to Venus.
Venus, hear me, please. You whose care, throughout all the centuries, the unions of men and their lovers have been placed, what, I pray, have I come to merit? Release me from this uncertainty, gift me a lover, who will warm my heart for eternity. Venus, save me from the hells of my ancestries.
Someone touches your naked shoulder, it makes you gasp in horror.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” someone says. When you turn around, you are facing a man who’s incredibly taller and broader than you. He’s significantly older than you, but he’s graceful. The second he takes to appreciate the sunset as well is your chance to study his profile. Gorgeous classical profile.
“Excuse me, but… Who are you?” you ask, moving aside, leaving his hand that rested on your shoulder in the air. He noticed it.
“General Marcus Acaius… I wondered why a woman was here all alone” you know him. He’s the most successful general your father ever had. He was a concise warrior, even considered a killer.
Somehow, you couldn’t help but find some sweetness in his deep voice. By knowing him for just a second, you felt comfortable by his side.
“I take pleasure in appreciating the sunset…” your soft features intrigued him. You looked slightly different than most of the women he sees in Rome.
“I haven’t appreciated the sky since I was a kid”
“What a shame, General. You would find some peace hidden between the clouds” Your accent was slightly colder than everyone’s. You didn’t have the golden hair that usually meant power. He was infatuated and tremendously interested in the woman he was facing.
“I must know where you come from…” he says, paying attention to your eyes. You smile, touching the little pearls that fall from your pale blue dress.
“I was born here… but circumstances made Alexandria my home. I arrived last night…” his eyes show surprise. He analyzed your bracelets, made of pure gold. You had a leaf crown with tiny sapphires that shimmered around your head. It wasn’t hard to tell who you were.
“majestas… you shouldn’t be here” he mutters and you don’t even flinch.
“I can assure you, General Acaius… I rarely find myself in the position of damsel in distress” he chuckles and you are relieved to see he doesn’t carry a ring around his finger. It was happening so fast, you wanted to know everything about him.
“You may call me Marcus. Except when we are in the presence of your father or brother” you remember you are supposed to marry your brother. But it wasn’t official just yet. And you were quickly falling for this older and gorgeous General.
After a sweet battle or glances, he has to put down his sword. You notice the details and the signs of years of use it has.
“Is this the weapon you master the most?” he nods, noticing the dry blood around the edges.
“Indeed… I learned to wield it before I even went to school” You smile, nervous but eager to throw your next comment. He was speaking very softly towards you. But it was obvious that he was a reserved and serious man.
“I use the spear and axe” Your revelation leaves Marcus surprised. There were very few female gladiators, most of them being treated worse than common slaves. No female in the Roman hierarchy wielded weapons.
“You truly are one of a kind, majestas” As the emperor’s daughter, you weren’t supposed to ever wield a weapon. Contrary to that rule, you were required to learn about politics. In Egypt, you were free.
“Oh, don’t call me that… my name is Y/n”
“Precious name…”
His smile mixed with yours burst in an obvious mutual flirtation. After talking for about two hours, the moon is the only witness in the dark meadows, where Marcus and you kiss until your lips are swollen and he has hydrated him after days of dryness. He promises to keep close to you as his fingers slip under the fabric of your tunic. You swear to welcome his touch no matter what as your hand palmed his girthy length under his heavy armor.
That night both of you seal your fate. That night Marcus Acaius ignites a vivid fire inside your heart.
Often, you wondered if candles could run out due to the excessive use of them each night. At least thirty candles are illuminating the place. You patiently wait in the room Marcus had in the Emperor’s palace, seated on the edge of the bed. When the General comes out, he spots you at his resting place. Immediately, you frown at him.
“You said it was a minor injury” There’s a lot of dry blood on his shoulder. He had taken a bath… but the injury was there, uncomfortably lying over his skin.
“It is a minor injury.” He assures, sitting beside you on the bed.
It’s been only a couple of days since you met him… and you are already too keen on him.
“There are no gladiators where I come from. Only warriors… Generals only command their soldiers. We never used weapons as a spectacle”
“I’m starting to believe Egypt is a better place than Rome” you shrug.
“I miss my home. I miss the freedom. I can’t marry Geta…” you admit out loud for the first time. Marcus huffs, he doesn’t have a problem with letting you know he is jealous.
“Right… the wedding.”
“I have to marry him after all. Only that way I could share the title of Empress with him” Marcus sighs tired.
“Am I descending into madness for these strong feelings I have for you?” you turn to look at him. Your hand moves to the end on top of his.
“I look into your eyes… and I feel safe, Marcus” you admit, straddling him. Your fingers trace his beard as you lean to kiss him deeply. He reciprocates and holds your hips steadily.
It’s a wild moment to openly share carnal passion, but neither of you cares. You push him against the feathery pillows and continue kissing. His hair gets tangled around your fingers and his forearms and hands have disappeared under your dress. You start throbbing and he gets hard. But the moment is suddenly interrupted by some footsteps near the room. In a blink of an eye, you get away from Marcus and he stands up from the bed too.
“Use the trail at the end of the hallway. I’ll see you tomorrow, satis” he says, kissing your forehead before you quietly leave his resting place.
Some guards were wandering around the place as usual. You skillfully pass by them, using the trail Marcus told you. But it’s dark and very quiet, not even illuminated by torches. Your sandals barely make a sound against the floors.
So it’s a huge surprise when a hand covers your mouth and the next thing you feel is getting slammed against the wall. It didn’t hurt you but it was violent.
You gasp for air and encounter your half-brother. He has his golden crown and velvet robes, his face almost clean of tints that weren’t his natural skin.
“What were you doing with General Acaius?” You frown.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” his ginger hair is the only thing that shines in the dark trail.
“Quit the lie, soror. Has he made you impure?”
Oh dear brother, if you knew my purity has been gone for many years. But the truth was that Marcus hadn’t claimed you his yet.
“No. And it should not be a matter of importance to you” he chuckles.
Geta isn’t an idiot. He had seen the way Acaius looked at you during dinners. He noticed you came back to rest later than usual. And it was making him boil in anger. His disgust towards you before your arrival was strong. But after you turned to be a delight for his taste, Geta was burning for you.
“Oh, but it is a matter of importance to me. You are my future wife” he says, threatening to seal his lips with yours. The arm that was holding you still sneaked around your waist, applying a little too much pressure.
“Do you think I like the thought of other men touching or even smiling at you?”
Oh… so he was jealous.
His lips gently brush your neck as you set your eyes on the moon, waiting for the moment to be over. His touch is vicious, possessive, and harsh. The trail his lips have followed from your collarbones to your throat ends in your chin, mere inches away from your lips.
“If we can even consider this love… you have an odd way of showing it” he lets you go, the cocky smile on his face never leaving.
“Love or not… you are going to be mine”
“I’m also the heiress of the Emperor. We’ll see about that, Geta.” You spit bitterly, literally running away from him.
You have converted into an enemy for him. And you had to be ready to walk cautiously. Because you had changed your mind. Perhaps you would lose the crown… but weren’t going to marry him.
You missed dates so badly, but then the following morning, when a plate of them was included in the morning, you couldn’t resist. You are eating alone. Until the doors open and your father appears followed by two guards.
“Father…” you stand up, making a reverence to him. He smiles, extending his arms to hug you.
“I have wonderful news. We’ve arranged an encounter for you to demonstrate your abilities in combat” You are extremely confused.
“What?” Your father sighs, breaking the hug.
“I’m aware you performed in celebrations back in Alexandria. This is just the perfect opportunity to show the senate and council you are a prepared lady to receive the title of Empress one day…”
“Father… as much as I appreciate the intention. I’ve performed as a way to train for battle; gods forbid us from having to go to war, but… here, your soldiers and slaves fight for the mere feeling of feeding the greediness of hierarchy. I can’t do that…”
You weren’t a target for the empire to show off. You were more than just a woman with the ability to carry a weapon. You valued your freedom. And ever since arriving in Rome, day by day, you feel that you keep slipping away from it.
“The decision is taken. Heavens know why but the official announcement of your engagement with Geta remains being delayed. Hence, I won’t turn the Senate and council against me when there's no need. I may only wish you good luck, dear” You remember Marcus. He could have voted against the encounter. He was the General.
Suddenly you are bursting in anger, making the coldest reverence to your father as he leaves.
Your angry steps lead your way to Marcus. You found him taking a rest on a nearby balcony. When he spots you, his smile vanishes.
“You couldn’t impede that brainless idea of me participating in a combat?” Marcus has to sigh, placing his hands on his hips. He was expecting your anger to be honest.
“I couldn’t say no. If it did, they would suspect. I already have your brother behind my back all the time” You can fight him because he’s right. But it doesn’t dissipate your anger.
“You are going to be fine. I may be able to arrange the rules. I can choose the gladiator that will fight you, but your father and brother have the last word. What weapon do you want to use?”
“The spear…” he nods.
“Female gladiators tend to wield the bow and sword. You can easily disarm her…” you are not scared, you are just frustrated.
“Teach me the methods warriors use here…” you mutter. Marcus nods, taking your hand and giving an apologetic look.
“You will win, my dear.” His fingers place some strands of your hair behind your ear, it melts your anger and transforms it into peace. You want to scream how much you desire him. But you must retain your feelings given the hatred days you were living.
“Let me thank you for the training in advance, General,” you say, getting on your knees.
“Good girl…” Marcus whispered as soon as your tongue started working on him.
The usual crowd in the Colosseum couldn’t be compared with the amount of screams and cheers from the people watching the emperor’s daughter fighting one of the greatest female gladiators in Rome; Calista.
The sandy floors were covered in an elegant tapestry that marked the square where the show was occurring.
You are sweating, there's blood running down your chin and you can’t breathe correctly. Calista was ordered not kill you, but for some reason, she seemed to be personally trying to knock you out.
She had a helmet and armor in gold and red. But it was hard to deny everyone was invested in the attire you wore. A golden mask of Neith, the god of war that covered your face and a gold vest and bare shoulders. Everyone thought you were insane for that.
You remember all the things Marcus told you. Soon after your father started the encounter, you learned gladiators were blinded by the necessity of seeing blood on their rival instead of following a technique of combat.
Calista’s sword is sharp enough to give you a long cut by the movement of a soft swatch. You yelp in pain and she kicks your ribs, making you fall to your knees.
Marcus stands worried from his seat, but he soon returns to his place after making eye contact with Geta, who sends daggers with his eyes. Marcus understood your brother was insane when he disapproved of the gladiator he had chosen. Geta picked the most sanguinary and violent warrior to fight you.
Marcus couldn’t do anything. But he was impressed by your skills. He sighed with joy everytime you slipped from Calista’s touch. Even your father was displaying a face of proud.
But it’s not the same for you. You enter in panic, knowing you are at full mercy, almost dropping your spare. Your father is about to stop the encounter. The crowd is impossibly louder. You want to throw up. The sweat mixed with nausea, the cold air of the night, and the dryness in your throat are too much to handle. But you refuse to lose. With the sharp edge of the spare, you cut Calista’s calf. She’s startled, ready to strike back when your leg pushes her on her back. The heavy sword she carries makes a loud noise. Her skull crushes against the floor. It gives you enough time to stand, place your foot in her throat and point the spare against her forehead, ending the encounter.
The cheers are disgustingly excessive. But you’re done. You did what your father asked. You take off the mask and look at your brother in anger. Geta offers you a fake smile. He was surprised to see you were able to slip away, from his evil plans, from defying your father.
You offer your hand to Calista, but she refuses. She looks like she wants to kill you. But she only reverences your family and leaves.
Everything is forgotten when you set your eyes on Marcus. You want to smile and run to his side. He sees you with adoration. He sees the reincarnation of Psyche in you. A woman who Marcus swears it’s even more graceful than Venus and Persephone themselves.
Marcus Acaius makes a decision; He must marry you.
After a banquet, your bones and muscles ache with each movement you make, but you run towards Marcus. You need to see him after such a long day. He waits for you in the secure spot of the farthest tower. His light robes and leaf crown are securely dressing him when you spot him. The gold in his attire matches your bronze bracelets and indigo dress.
He’s the man you desire. He’s the man that had offered you a real demonstration of affection. He wasn’t trying to manhandle you like everyone before did. It’s more than enough to make you think your prayers to Venus have worked. You collide in his chest, giggling.
“I love you”
Both of you say at the same time. It leaves you shocked. Marcus smiles and you have to kiss him to believe it’s real.
“I promise you… we’ll be together” you nod dying out of happiness. He kisses you back and you feel you want to cry out of happiness.
What feels like a second was an hour of kissing.
And Geta was able to witness some of that time. Drowning in a monstrous wave of jealousy, he ran towards the Emperor to accuse you of adultery. But it was too late, your father was out of the city for the rest of the day. Geta is beyond enraged with the news. So he sends part of his father’s cabinet to a brothel, hoping his evil plan would work.
Later, when he finds you going towards the garden, he fastens his pace to harshly grab your forearms and stop you.
“That General is no good for you.” He spits with disgust as you squirm away from his touch.
“Neither are you” you fireback, stepping backwards.
“Go find him. You should know he just uses you to have our father’s approval. So I insist you, go find him and see what kind of man he is after you leave his bed” You raise your hand ready to slap him, but you don’t. You simply turn away and keep walking.
Geta’s words echo through your mind. You question him, valuing the honesty of his words. Marcus was a man after all. There wasn’t a perfect man nor a perfect woman, but you liked to believe there was still good in the hearts of the people.
Perhaps Marcus would be disappointed by your mistrust. But the uncertainty of his loyalty was something you couldn’t risk.
That night, you go out in a linen cloak, hunting the man you love. The guards won’t know you went out prowling around the city.
It’s late, but not for the city. Although is not crowded, there are a lot of people in the market. You let yourself wander across the place. There’s handmade stuff that women and kids sell. It makes you think about power and how not all of the people had it. If you ever became Empress, you wanted to see a prosperous and bright city. You want to ensure them with security and peace. You want to get rid of eccentric stuff, including gladiators.
The sound of music along with laughter draws your attention to a specific place. At first glance, you think it’s a tavern. But as your feet made it to the entrance, you gasped in shock. There are more men compared to women. The females are scattered around the place. Some feed grapes to men. Others dance and use their bodies to charm. All of them have their chests bare, showing their breasts and silver bracelets. It shocks you to see some of the females naked, kissing between groups of four or more and almost fucking them at the sight of everyone. The wine smells cheap, the whole place smells like sweat and sex combined.
You see from afar a large table of men. Your eyes look at the head of the table and it causes a great mix of confusion and intrigue. Because it’s your Marcus who’s seated with those men. He talks and looks seriously intimidating with his sword resting on the table. Your heart starts racing as a woman gets closer. She raises her hand to touch him. Marcus turns to look at the woman. She has short blonde hair, pale skin, and purple fabric that barely covers her body. Your eyes water at the sight. Your lover, who promised find the way to be with you hours ago is there, surrounded by naked women and you can hear him cursing. When the blonde woman is about to sit in his lap, you leave the place running away. There’s not even time to tear yet, you are completely covered in shock and disgust.
Soon you are back. You gasp for air, opening the doors of the place you call home. Two guards let you enter and you throw your cloak to the floor. When you look at the end of the long hallway, you spot Geta talking with his counselor. At the sigh of you, he indicates the man to leave. You want to leave him behind so bad, you avoid his eyes but it’s his voice that stops you.
“I told you so…” he says with an evil smile.
“Be quiet…” his laugh is loud and it angers you more.
“He doesn’t care about you. Acaius only cares for power. He could never love you-“
“SILENCE!”
You push him towards the granite bench behind and he is taken aback.
Even more when you lean to smash your lips with his.
It’s disgusting. There’s no care, only two individuals fighting for control in the lips of each other. Even the beetroot juice you applied hours ago has transferred to your chin and Geta’s. His hand is resting with pressure on your nape, and you slightly pull his hair, making him groan before kissing you even harder.
Just when you are about to sit in his lap, you stop. You look at him in horror. There’s no way you just kissed him. That you almost succumbed to his touch. But you remember Marcus with that woman. What were you doing?
Geta sees you quietly crying before standing up from the bench and watching you bolt.
You run to the meadows. The place where everything began. And at that moment, you realized you had completely failed.
Fighting in that encounter with Calista for what? Unnecessary approval of men who would surely die before you birthed your first child.
You pleased your father to live in peace for what? To carry the weight of a narcissistic brother and a traitor lover.
Your prayers were in vain. The love you wanted to find was over before it even started. Because it wasn’t real. You should’ve stayed back in Egypt. Maybe you should have married Geta on the first day. At least whatever he did to hurt you would have a payback. But with Marcus, it resulted in an excruciating pain that you had never felt before. Which makes you feel so ignorant and brainless. All that ego your mother had helped you build collapsed at that moment. You just wished for a remedy. Which for sure didn’t exist. But there must be a way, to make everyone feel at least a drop of what you have.
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part two or what? (Literally didn’t add the part I wrote for the sneak peak lol)
taglist: @drewharrisonwriter @my-dearest-agent @yellowheartz @spookyxsam @natasharomanoffsmotorcycle @uncassettodiricordi @kluvspedritooo @littleblackcatinwonderland
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in-a-slanted-outhouse · 3 months ago
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I was writing about this in the tags but no it deserves its own post. Like putting aside how uncomfortable it was and how creepy it was towards Aidan and how it’s against Five’s character and blah blah blah. Five and Lila’s storyline was incredibly sexist. I am too tired to go too in depth on this so if anyone wants to add anything then please do. It is 10pm and this is hastily written but I just want you all to understand how fucking angry I am
Lila starts out as this badass female assassin. She has a really strong character and personality and although she’s seen as a part of Diego’s storyline in s2 she very much feels like her own character and she integrates into Hargreeves like a new main character
S4 just… She’s a mother of three kids which is objectively fine I guess?? Like making her a mother was kinda sexist but they could’ve made it work. But it’s been six years and she doesn’t have a job. They turn her into a stay at home mother which was unnecessary. And almost her entire storyline revolves around Five. They don’t delve into her relationship with her parents even though they were dead. You barely see them. So much of what she does was the writers setting the scene so her and Five can get together. She starts looking into The Keepers so she can bump into Five and then have that scene in the cafe. She is unpleased with her marriage so she can get with Five. She wants to explore the subway system and try to time travel back to fix the timeline so that she can get lost in there with Five. It’s actually so foul. I am so disgusted. She argues with Five and says that it’s not about him and Five says that it is about him. They then make Five out as some like kicked puppy. Her reuniting with Diego has Five standing right there looking all sad. Her reuniting with her kids also has Five standing there all ‘woe is me.’ He then has his whole sulking on the train bit like they try SO hard to make you feel sorry for him. Her saying goodbye to her kids also has Five standing right there and then as she’s crying in his arms he leans his head into her hair like he owns her or something and seems almost happy after seeing her have to abandon her fucking children. And then right at the end as they’re about to die Lila goes and holds his hand to make him feel better
Lila was such a cool and complex character and it was really refreshing to see a woman especially a woc be morally grey and they threw it all away
They made a poc woman’s character arc revolve entirely around a white man for a conventional cishet romance that nobody wanted and actively harmed the actors on the show. They turned her into Five’s little plaything so Steve could live out his perverted fantasy of Five having a wife and I am utterly disgusted by it
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livingdeadgirlflorette · 2 months ago
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SO HIGH ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ carl grimes x reader
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summary : getting caught smoking at your age isn't a good thing, but maybe getting caught smoking by the new guy's son isn't so bad at all, especially since he looked so cute.
tags / rundown : slight angst at the start, almost kissing, underage smoking, shotgunning, set in alexandria, carl is easily flustered, reader's parent's are pronounced dead (womp womp)
word count : 2.8k
a/n : this fic was inspired by me listening to so high by doja lols. since my midterms ended, i've decided to write this with my free time. hope it was worth it (∩_∩;) also i'll be writing a part 2 to "late night kisses", just dk where to start ( ´△`) lmk if you want to be tagged in it!
dividers by @cafekitsune ꩜ .ᐟ
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Alexandria seemed like such a pleasant escape from the shithole of the world we're living in today. Living almost two years by yourself from. . . unfortunate circumstances between your parents and an unexpected herd of walkers that had invaded your base camp. With a heavy heart and an even emptier stomach, that had left you scrounging for anything to survive. Food, water, a place to sleep in— it felt like you were just barely living day by day.
With all hope lost and no destination ahead, you just kept walking— no goal or end in mind, just walk until you found a place that could help you regain the empty feeling in you. To your surprise, a place like that still existed— a sanctuary called Alexandria. The first time you ever entered the gates, you felt like a deer in headlights. It all looked different from the outside world, giving you a sense of hope, a small beacon of hope that it would get better.
But even with all the good things that come with it, it still felt like you were so out of place. The pristine, large houses and the children laughing, acting as if nothing had ever even happened. Unrightfully, it irked you. They didn't know what it was like living day by day, not knowing if the last place you'd stay and shut your eyes for shelter in would be your last. They didn't know what it was like to starve, famished to the point you'd eat raw animal just so you could have something in your stomach. They didn't know what it was like to lose people by shooting them using their own gun. They didn't know.
All the feelings of jealousy, envy, and sadness spiraling in you, was overwhelming you to the point of just crying until you had no tears left. But you would never let them know that. It would be a stupid move to show weakness, especially in the state of the world. So you sneak out.
Sneaking out of Alexandria was a therapeutic event. Every time you do this it relaxes you, knowing what would come after would be the cherry on top to help you wind down and let your feelings fizzle out.
With you far enough from Alexandria where you knew no supply runners or recruiters would catch you, you walked through the forest, trying to find a place that's quiet. Seemingly in a matter of minutes, you find a small clearing. Peaceful and from your scoping of the forest, no walkers.
You sit down next to a tree and put your bags down, then finally sitting down, leaning on the large vegetation. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, you fiddle around your jacket pockets and suddenly stop when you hear a voice call out to you, seemingly unimpressed.
"You know that kills you, right?" You turn around to put a body to the disembodied voice, and you see it's the boy from that one group that Aaron had recruited. You weren't that tuned in to the whole story, but you saw enough to know that they were like you, different, in the sense that you'd been out there, living through the apocalypse.
From overhearing Ron and Mikey talk about if they should him to play videogames, you knew the boy's name was Carl. He was cute, interesting, boyish in a way that he still had that youthful face, yet he was mature to have so much control over his emotions and body language and the way he carried himself.
If it were someone different, you'd just ignore the person and tell them to leave you alone. But you had the idea Carl wouldn't be such an annoyance to you, so you decide to entertain yourself by speaking with him.
"That's kind of the point." Finally, you find you lighter in your back pocket and proceed to tap on the cigarette box, pulling one out and putting it between your lips.
You didn't what to continue talking right now, wanting to just focus on matter at hand. You were thinking how to tell him but you were pleasantly surprised to see that he'd gotten the message, and just walked next to the spot on your tree, and sat down next to you.
Raising an eyebrow at him, you question his motive. Why would he even talk to you? more so why would he try to sit next to you? he has nothing to gain from this. . .
Continuing your actions, you flick open the lighter and the fire sparks burst out, creating a small flame. It fills you with relaxation. You lean in, just close enough to light your cigarette and when you finally inhale the comforting tobacco— you sigh out the smoke, lazily blinking. Your eyes dart up to the sky, watching the smoke from your mouth go up and away.
You look back to Carl, realizing you barely noticed he'd comfortably situated himself— with his signature sheriff's hat that he donned on the grass next to him and a comic book open in his hands.
You guess he wouldn't really be a nuisance, he would just be next to you while you let out your puffs of tobacco. So you scoot a little closer to him. What you didn't notice was how he saw you moving closer, unable to hide a ghost of a smile before it disappeared completely.
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The sky was turning into an entrancing shade of cool colors. It seemed like time passes faster when you're smoking, only focused on changing the cigarette when it's on its last puff, and breathing in and slowly out to watch the result of your sighs for it to go up into presumably the clouds. You wish you could stay here forever. Carl was quietly reading the second comic book he'd brought, not having any plan to talk to you and your relaxed state. The boy's company was actually, comforting in the sense that you had someone with you.
But you had noticed he kept glancing at you and more so, your lips. You know the reason. He's obviously curious. From your knowledge, teenage boys are typically rebellious, so you figured he'd want to try a small puff.
The silence that had been enveloping the majority of your time together was broken by you.
"You want to try it?" His eyes jolt up from the scene in the comic he's reading, sincerely surprised you'd ask.
"I- uh- yeah i'd like to uhm— I wanna try it." He tries to find the right words, but seemingly they all just turn into mush when he sees you.
Your eyes are lidded, your body languid— presumably from all the tobacco you'd been smoking, and your lips are plump, slightly open. With that look, it's enough to send blood rushing to his cheeks, his eyes darting blinking rapidly and looking slightly down to hide his blossoming blush.
Even in your smoke-induced haze, you still notice this. Seeing him act all bashful and shy in front of you, it makes you feel giddy inside. You let out an airy chuckle and you hand him the cigarette.
"Knock yourself out." You tell him. With a nervous gaze, he musters up his courage and looks at you. Hesitantly taking the cigarette in your hands. But you undoubtedly notice his hands brush against yours as he took the lit stick of tobacco.
Carl then calculatively puts the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling before letting out a dry heaving cough. You giggle at him, you know it's a common mistake but he just looks so cute trying to do it properly.
"How do you even do it without coughing—" His words were cut off by another cough he let out, he seemed like he was having a hard time so you gently put your hand on his back, lightly patting it to help him cough.
"It's okay, I kept coughing a fit the first time I did it." You assured him, wondering how you could help him get through it, until you finally clicked, realizing what you should do to have him experience it properly.
"Do you want me to help you?" Your voice is gentle and calm so you don't startle him. He looks at you, his coughing had seemed to cease. His posture went straight, eyebrows furrowed. What could you possibly to do help him smoke without him wheezing?
Carl silently gives you an okay, slightly nodding as he does. "Don't freak out, okay?" He's curious, what would you do to help him? But then he sees your actions, you take the cigarette in between his calloused fingers and put it back into your mouth, taking in a small intake.
He's uncertain on what you're about to do, questions going in and out of his head. But you silence those answers by taking the cigarette out of your mouth, then grabbing his chin with your free hand to have his face an inch apart from yours.
His mouth is open in awe and disbelief. He can feel his heart beating out of his chest when you take you open your mouth, slowly blowing the smoke into his mouth. He quickly understands what you're doing, slowly breathing in the puff of smoke with his mouth.
With the last blow of your lips sending the smoke, You make eye contact with him. Your eyes were all this time trained on his lips, focusing so he wouldn't move. His breath hitches when he finally has all of the smoke you had in your mouth.
It's overwhelming for Carl, really— knowing all the puffs of tobacco he had in his mouth were in yours, and how close you still are to his face, it makes him want to shoot his heart out into the darkening sky. Realizing he's been looking too long at your face and not releasing the smoke, he lets it out slowly, watching your every move.
You look at him, letting a small smirk grace your face as you lean back. He doesn't know why he has such a dissatisfied feeling when you pull back though, It's so perplexing to him.
"We should get back to the gates, I think your father would be worried that his son's been missing." You put the cigarette out, standing up and patting your jeans off, shooing the dirt off your clothing. You look back to Carl, the emotion on his face evidently stupefied.
"Yeah— my dad's probably looking for me by now so," He scrambles also to fix himself up, turning slightly away from you. He tries to find more words, but it leaves him with only a few.
"We should go." He finally says. He wanted to save himself from the embarrassment he'd feel from you seeing his blush.
Carl thought what he was doing was ridiculous though; it was getting dark, you wouldn't be able to see color on his face unless you were close and squinted hard enough. But he does so anyway.
The rest of the walk back to Alexandria you're standing side by side, walking with him. You fail to ignore that tingly and rushed feeling whenever his hands accidentally brush yours, making your cheeks flush. You look at him, curious if he also felt the way feeling you were experiencing.
Carl felt quite befuddled, he was so perplexed at the thought of you. There was a swirling feeling in his heart. He wondered if what he was feeling was just from the nicotine in those cigarettes or if it was because of you, but then his question gets answered when he looks at you.
With the eye contact you guys had, you smile bashfully and look straight back at the path. He made you smile, and that was enough for him to know he was interested. He wanted to know more about you, and what it would feel like to have your face close to him again. Hopefully next time it would be to feel your lips on his, and not just the smoke.
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I'm not sure if I like this, but it fueled my imagination of smoking with Carl so I don't really mind (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ
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allfearstofallto · 8 months ago
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I swear to God Childe has so much potential as a yandere, I have this feeling that his soul “died” when he fall into the abyss, after that major event he is a completely different person and his parents knows it they saw it in his eyes, soulless, thirsty for blood and violence.
Imagine him in utter shock when his kids get scared of him, not realizing his love is twisted and sick in the head after they saw how he treats their mother by trying to mimic what he thinks is “love”, how she gets anxious whenever she’s around him,they can hear her cry every night from their bedroom despite her trying her best to be the mother they deserve knowing the circumstances that led to their births, Generally children can feel when something is happening in their household but cannot fully understand it due to their age (lol speaking from experience).
He thought he’d have a picture perfect family with his darling, but why now are they seeing him as if he some type of a monster? That will for sure would make him insecure and it brings up the abyss memories. He claims he loves them and their mother so much but why does he hurt their mama?.
Friend, this is literally a full fledged fic already! And it's incredible!! I've been thinking on this idea for a bit already cause I already had an ask similar to it, so I'll add onto your fic just a little bit!!
Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader
Forced Marriage AU
TW: Yandere themes, reader has children
Growing up in a large family with so many siblings to love and care for, laughter was a sound that he often heard. It was his favorite sound, other than the distinct noise that blood made when it dripped into freshly packed snow. Snezhnaya is cold, but laughter coming straight from your belly is so so warm.
He loves coming home to the sound of laughter. Childish giggles and your rich chuckles. He'd sit his bow down to the side and close the front door to the manor, a noise that was rather loud. He'd be smiling ear to ear, wanting to join in on all the fun, only to realize that the house was now quiet.
Childe went to the living room, where you sat with his two sons. Your two sons. His little bundles of joy that he was eternally grateful to have. The younger one rested on your lap, the other on the carpeted floor at your feet, with a myriad of toys splayed in front of him.
Why did you always make that face at him, he wondered. Big doe eyes, like deer in headlights, you always looked so stiff and scared around him. Maybe that's why in turn, the kids made that same face, maybe that's why the laughter always stopped when he entered the room. The kids would huddle in closer to you and farther away from him.
"It's nice to see you all together when I come home," he'd say, with that smile still on his face, but you could see the edges of his lips twitching. He was forcing this smile and you forced one back, gently tapping your son with your foot to tell him to do the same. He hesitated for a moment, then beamed up at him with a grin, missing his two front teeth.
"We missed you, papa!" He yelled, just as you told him to. Just the way Childe wanted. Your younger son continued to bury his face in your lap, trying to look any where but his father.
Childe didn't seem bothered by this and leaned down to tousle the boy's orange hair, making him flinch in your hold, "I always loved that they got my hair color," he said while looking at you, eyes so dead and empty, you thought you were looking into a void, "I never realized how well my hair and your eyes went together until I saw them."
"Is that so, my love?" You spoke warmly while gently trying to nudge your son from your lap, "We could talk more about it now. I was just going to send the boys to their rooms."
His expression finally changed. The facade finally fell. His smile dropped and his eyebrows furrowed. You could tell that he was trying to hold the expression back, trying not to scare the children, but they'd already notice his change in demeanor. His shift in attitude making the air feel thick and tight, constricting your chest.
"Why would we do that? We can just talk together, as a family,"
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mintymarabell · 6 months ago
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Platonic yandere elder yautja.
An elder whose strong and powerful in status but not fertile, his seed never taking so he never had children of his own.
He would beat himself up over it all the time, thinking he was not good enough.
He’ll be on earth just wondering around aimlessly when he sees you, a teenager who was crying in the woods.
He would watch curiously, wondering what you were doing alone.
When you get up and leave after composing yourself he’ll follow after you, when you lead him to a house that has two ooman pairs having a yelling match inside he somewhat connects the dots.
He will watch over you over the months, noticing the neglect in the household. He’s so jealous, your parents barely pay you any mind or even care for you and yet he’d do it in a heartbeat.
Maybe one time you’re in your room curled up in bed trying to sleep through your parents continuous arguing when your window slowly slides open, you don’t notice until there’s a big thump and suddenly something is in your room.
You go to scream but a large hand is cupped over your mouth to quiet the sound.
When you wake up again you’re in a different room, one much bigger than your previous one the bed huge and comfortable with alien soft sheets and silk pillows.
A small tray of breakfast sat on the nightstand to your left still warm.
He won’t reveal his scary appearance to you, living as a ghost in his own home as he provided for you better than your parents ever had.
Maybe one day, after a few months of living in the strange very futuristic like house you explore, walking around the grand halls, looking into the various bedrooms, some being children others being for an adult, you simply marveled at the design.
Maybe you walk outside to see the scenery and notice the different colors of the sky, the amber atmosphere.
You wander farther from the house, towards the pristine gates and walk out of them as you look at this ‘new world’ in hopes of feeding your growing curiosity.
Maybe you venture too far, finding you had zoned out and was now in the woods with faint growling and the once twin suns now settling into a dark sky.
Your breathing hitched as you looked around frantically trying to remember where it is you came from, then suddenly something hops from the tree, it is some beast, clearly not from earth.
The beast stalking towards you as it readied itself to attack and then it lunged, you closed your eyes and waited but it never came.
Instead a loud crash could be heard as something ran into the beast, you opened your eyes and seen the beast but nothing else.
It was as if the beast was fighting its imaginary friend, though in this case enemy.
The beast had brawled with the other invisible being, at some point in the fight the beast had landed a hit, the sound of flesh tearing and electric sparks then its invisible cloak was unveiled.
You had been inching back this whole time, slowly but surely won the race right? Though as you inched back, you noticed the humanoid was beginning to slack. Noticing a healing wound on its shoulder blade being the issue of its delay.
You had decided it was clearly on your side so you picked up a size ably sharp stick. Beginning to walk back toward the fight just as the beast had pinned the your possible new friend; you stabbed it right through the throat.
The humanoid pushed off the now dead carcass, standing up slowly. This had given you a moment to look at him truly. He had four mandibles with sharp fangs on the end, along with long dread like hair that was graying. After the awkward pause he had ruffled your hair and pushed you back in the direction of the house you had stayed at.
It had been a few months, your new father now walking around with no invisible cloak. He was in short terms, protective. If you had went out he went along and never let you go far. It appeared he lived alone, in a massive home.
You could get used to it, though you hoped it wasn’t forever it’d be like this.
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lovefrombegonia · 2 years ago
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Batfam hc: The reason Bruce doesn't get why Dick wanted to "stay away" from him after he reached his late teens or why Dick didn't wanna be in his shadow... it's coz Bruce just doesn't understand why any child would want to be away from their parents. Why would the child want to be away from his parents' embrace? Why?! He would never want to be away from Thomas and Martha if they were alive. He would always wanna be their little boy. He would always live under their protective, warm and safe shadow. He just doesn't understand. The truth is: He is still their, in crime alley, trying to stop those two bullets. He never truly got out of the crime alley. He probably never would...but that's ok with Bruce. Because he doesn't mind staying in the shadow of his dead parents.
Years later, Dick finally gets how and why Bruce is the way he is. He mourns for his father and protects him the best he can. Dick knows that even though he would never trade what he has with the family he found with Bruce and others surrounding him now...for anything else, including his beloved parents...he knows, that Bruce would chose Thomas and Martha over them in a heartbeat. And it hurts. It hurts him SO BAD. But he will endure this hurt. Because he also knows that Bruce loves him and his brothers and sisters and everyone else consisting of their mess of a family.
Maybe, that's why...when the timeline shenanigans happened, and Bruce was left at the night of tragedy when Martha and Thomas were shot dead in the past, Dick, in the present timeline, was ready...ready to disappear from the present life. And he could see the same fear but silent acceptance in his siblings' eyes too. They held each other tightly. Jason, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Stephanie, and Duke...all of them, a small part of them were resenting Bruce but their selfless love for him wouldn't let them hate him. After all...how could you hate a lost child. They waited...with Oracle in their comms, her soothing voice telling them again and again how much she loved them all. That, no matter what, she would find a way to remember them all, and bring them back. Dick held Damian close to his chest the tightest. Small and brave Dami, so full of love despite his painful past. Dick wanted to say--
A burst of energy was felt behind him...empty space crackled to life. A portal opened. A man walked out. His cowl and cape soaked in rain.
Bruce broke down. He started crying and then he started laughing. Sorry for letting you down. Sorry for scaring you all. Sorry for letting mommy and papa die. Sorry for loving his present more than his past. He loves his parents. He always would. But he loves his children more. He loves them all. Bruce no longer wanted to stay in his parents' shadow. Now, he just wanted to become a home for his kids. What is a home? A home is a place, when you have nowhere else to go, they have to accept you. And home had no right to abandon those who looked his way for support. He has to be there. He has to be a home. He didn't want to be anything else atp.
Dick held Bruce as tightly as he held Damian. Damian kept say, "Baba, Baba!" while trying to hold back tears. Jason held Bruce's cape tightly, as if he would disappear. He was still in shock. Cassandra cradled Bruce's head in her arms. Stephanie had her arms around Bruce and Jason. Tim was wiping Bruce's tears even though he himself was crying. Duke held Bruce's shoulder. His hand was shaking. He didn't want to lose another father figure. The thought had crossed his mind what his life would be if Batman had disappeared. Would it be better or worse? He decided that he didn't care. In the end, he didn't want to lose Bruce from his life. All of them could hear Barbara's quiet whimpers. Bruce tried to hold all of them in embrace.
A child finally walked out of the crime alley.
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gremlingottoosilly · 11 months ago
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With the Monster König and actual hybrid child, particularly the comment of being lucky if you get to keep it
Us BEGGING, and I mean BEGGING, him to let us keep the baby cuz “You wouldn’t want me to have gone through all the for nothing, right?” And “I won’t have to keep begging you to keep an egg!”
Probably more points that I didn’t think of would also work
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@cookiepie111 Oh, he is going to be SO pissed off. Konig hates the weird octo hybrid, hands down. He doesn't understand the concept of parenting, at all, he isn't cute about having children, he wants nothing more but to toss the crying thing into the ocean and forget about it. Unfortunately, the thing isn't like his normal octo offspring - it needs milk, it needs attention, it needs its momma cooing and smiling at the weird thing. monster!Konig HATES the baby, but he loves you. He wants to be with you, you're his mate, imprinted on him, he isn't sure that he would even have the will to live if you're dead. So, when you beg for him, cry for him, willing to be the perfect little pet for him...he doesn't want to seem weak in front of his soldiers, he doesn't want to allow you to manipulate him like that, but he fucking folds. He doesn't like the baby and he makes this fact clear - he won't hold it, he won't look after it, he hopes it would curl down somewhere and disappear, but he is willing to share your attention with it as long as you're not threatening to kill yourself. Honestly, the only way you even can hold the baby, is when Konig holds you, making sure you're not directing your full attention to the little hybrid. Konig is treating it like a pet - in a normal sense, not in a weird way he is treating you. The baby gets food(it's still a hybrid, so it needs raw flesh and blood), it gets trained like a soldier, and learns commands like a puppy. When his soldiers are around, Konig refuses to acknowledge the child, even if it clings to him with his half-hands-half-tentacles and cries for attention. You know better than to ask for more - you know that each of your slips is going to threaten the baby, and you're on your best behavior all the time.
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spacebarbarianweird · 10 months ago
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Baby Fangs
Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.
Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs
Alethaine's age: 5 month
Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.
Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.
It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.
“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”
“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”
“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”
The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.
Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?
His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?
Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.
Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.
The baby starts coughing.
Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.
Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.
There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.
Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.
“So what do we do?” he asks.
“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.
He nods.
Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.
“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.
Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”
Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.
Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.
There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.
It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.
"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."
“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”
“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”
“She is an elf like I was before I died.”
When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.
But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.
But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?
But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.
So can her parents.
“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”
Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.
Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.
“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”
Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.
Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.
Demanding.
This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.
Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.
“Tiriel, what are you doing?”
Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.
And then her dark eyes turn red.
They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.
Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.
The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.
And then Alethaine laughs.
She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.
The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.
“Astarion, look at her gums.”
Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.
“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”
Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.
But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.
Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.
Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?
Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.
** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.
The tears prickle his eyes.
He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.
“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.
Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.
Then he hears footsteps from behind.
“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.
“Adding fangs to her toy.”
Tiriel sits beside him.
“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices
“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”
“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”
“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”
“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”
“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”
“We should have found the cure before making a child.”
“But we didn’t find any.”
Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”
“I am all pointy ears, my love.”
“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”
“Tiriel, I would never - “
“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”
“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”
“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”
Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.
“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”
The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.
Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.
He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.
"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96
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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months ago
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Have a Good(?) Mom Janet AU.
There is a cookbook in Drake Manor that no one but Tim and Janet are allowed to touch. There is also a shelf full of Spices that only they are allowed to touch. Every time Janet comes home, they both cook each other meals with the book and the spices. Tim makes himself food using the spices while she is gone. Janet makes sure to come home at least once a month so that they can cook together.
This cookbook has been passed down in Tim's family for many, many generations. To be taught from it and eventually gifted the book to add your own recipes to is seen as a sign of love and adoration. If a family has more than one child, a copy of the book is made so each child can have one, and if someone dies without any children to pass the book along to, their will always states for the book to be returned to a Drake. Sometimes branches of the family will get together to trade recipes that the later generations have come up with that aren't in their own books. It has been this way for well over 10 generations.
See, the special thing about this cook book? It doesn't have anything like Chili or Pasta or Candy or Cake or anything like that. No, this is a cookbook detailing things like how to brew a lovely tea made from Nightshade and Foxglove, how to milk a snake and then reduce it's venom down and which Spices to add in so that it can be used to coat a blade, and how to disguise the taste of bitter poison in sweet and savory foods.
It's a Cook Book of Poisons. Just like the shelf is full of things like arsenic, cyanide, dried poison dart frogs, hemlock, and so, so much more. If you can think of a poison, it's on the hidden shelf.
Tim is taught by his mother how to dose those he loves to over time make them immune to things, how to kill someone without leaving a trace, and how to tell poisons apart by taste, smell, and touch. Janet does this because she loves her son, just as Janet's mother did this for her because she loved Janet and on and on back in the family tree. She wants him to be safe and they are very rich and well known. She knows that this attracts Assassins. She can not protect him from Knives or bombs or guns, but she can protect him from this one thing. She will protect him because she loves him dearly.
Tim knows his mother loves him, why else would she always poison him? She explained to him when he was very little what she was doing and why and he believed her. He still does. Frankly, the partial immunity to basically all toxins has been really helpful as Robin. Plus he can use this to help the Bats! He can start micro dosing Bruce and Alfred and Dick right away by baking them cookies with poison! If they detect anything wrong, just tell them it's ok if they don't like the cookies he made while looking sad. They will cave instantly and eat anything he gives them, brushing Tim off as not a very good cook.
Tim also comes clean to his Mother (only her, not Jack. They don't have a bond like he and Janet do) about being Robin and honestly? She sags in relief and says she is so glad that someone is protecting him from the things she can not and teaching him how to defend against what nether can stop. There is a lot of crying and then Janet being Horrified when she finds out that Batman and Nightwing only have Average Gothemite Poison Resistance?? No special training??? Seems very, *very* stupid in their lie of work.
With this AU, Janet would be fine (or at least not dead) when she drinks the water. Jack may or may not have been fine as well (depends on if Janet was also microdosing Jack as well).
So, Tim's parents either die another way or just don't die. Maybe Jack still ends up dead (Boomerang and whatnot), but Janet lives.
Ooh! Feel free to contest, but this would also pave the way for some excellent Talia/Janet interactions (it could start out as enemies to lovers due to two of Talia's sons attacking Janet's son. Yet, Talia can't help but be intrigued by the Drake practice of poisons/venoms/resistance/immunity).
Anyways, Tim and Janet showing their love through cooking is precious. It'd also be hilarious if Janet, insulted by the Bats not being immune, tries to help Tim as well. She just constantly checks up with Tim's progress and offers any advice she needs to.
Damian and Jason probably have some resistance/immunity bulit up, but probably not to the extent the Drakes do in this AU. Cass is aware of what's going on and happily takes Tim's food every time (she can practically feel the love radiating off of the food).
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sqquidzz · 3 months ago
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If the Hashira Adopted a Child with You
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Hashiras x fem!y/n
Summary: How would the Hashira feel about adopting a child and the process of raising them together and living life. Includes Rengoku, Sanemi, Gyomei, and Obanai.
Tags: Fluff, Insecurities, Brief Mentions of Past Trauma, Married!Y/n, Some Angst, Crying, Arguments, Major Character Death, Grieving, Sadness and Fluff with Bittersweet Endings, Mentions of Blood and Gore, Injury, !Spoilers for Demon Slayer Manga!, etc.
A/N: Hello lovelies!!! I'm so sorry I haven't been posting content. I was dealing with a few family issues and wasn't able to get to writing. Thankfully, the issues have been resolved, however, I never got back to writing because I almost forgot about this account! I hope you guys will enjoy this fic! This fic idea was courtesy of @rupkatha-banerjee!
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Rengoku:
When you first mention the idea of adopting a child, Rengoku immediately agrees that it is a great idea with his signature smile
You have been hesitant to ask him if adopting a child is okay because you are aware of his family's traditions of how as the woman holds the child in her womb, she must stare at a fire to bring the bright colour of flames to the child's hair
The nest day, Remgoku insists to take you to an orphanage that he had come across during patrol the night before
You both take a wagon into the city, and soon you come across the orphanage that Rengoku mentioned
You walk in and are immediately greeted by the sight of children running around everywhere, and the owner comes over to greet you
You spend some time talking and playing with the children, but you notice a small boy sitting in the corner of the main room alone
You come over to him and greet him, but he says nothing, staring at you behind his blonde bangs with dead orange eyes
You realize that the boy's eyes and hair distinctly remind you of Rengoku, and feeling empathy for the boy who seems to be unable to get over the fact that his family was gone, you decide to adopt him
At first, it was very hard
The boy would not say one word to you or Rengoku, sitting in the corner of the bedroom, simply staring into nothingness
But that didn't stop you, and you say by him every day talking to him about your life and Rengoku and all the other Hashira
You would especially tell him about Tanjiro's adventures with Zenitsu and Inosuke, laughing to yourself as you recount the hilarious events (you got to know these things thanks to Rengoku)
Soon enough, the boy, who you decided to name Yuki, warmed up to both you and Rengoku, and was talking non stop with both of you, playing outside and helping around the house
You spent as much time with him as you could, teaching him basic skills and educating him
He got to meet all the Hashira and met the infamous trio as well as Nezuko, who he surprisingly warmed up to the most
However, when you got the news that Rengoku had passed on during a mission, you and Yuki we're devastated
Yuki shut down completely, not speaking to anyone, leaving you back at step one
Seeing the state of your son, you cried and cried tears that were bottled up ever since your childhood
Through your sobs and wails, you could see your son moving towards you
You realize he was embracing you, and from that day, you both promised to save each other and never leave each other, no matter the cost
You continued to raise Yuki, watching him as he followed his father's footsteps to become the new Flame Hashira
You were concerned that he would one day not come back, but you had faith in him
One fateful day, your time had come to an end
You had successfully lived to old age and passed on peacefully with your son by your side, as he kept his promise to never leave you, ever
Sanemi:
When you first proposed to adopt a child, Sanemi was afraid
He was scared that he was not cut out to be a parent due to his severe anger issues and aggressive nature, especially after thinking about what happened with Genya
Obviously, Sanemi being Sanemi, he lashed out at you, asking: "Why the fuck would we need to adopt a kid!? Stop being fucking stupid!"
Instead of bursting into tears and running away like he thought you would, you hugged him from behind and said with a smile: "You'll be an amazing father, trust me."
By the time Sanemi turns around, there are tears in his eyes, and he silently cried into your shoulder with you rubbing comforting circles into his back
The next day, you two both go to the orphanage in the city in hopes of adopting a child
As you enter, you immediately get along with the kids, playing and talking with them as Sanemi sticks to one corner
However, a little boy about 7 years old comes up to Sanemi and asks in a harsh tone "What do you think you're doing oldie?!"
Sanemi being Sanemi again, he retorts back yo the kid, and before you can stop them, they are both having a screaming match
You realize in that moment that this not is the right one for your Sanemi
He was able to match Sanemi's temper, and he seemed to be enjoying himself just as much as you could see that Sanemi was
You decide to take him home, and while the owner tried to warn you, you simply tell her that he's the right one
However, the nest few days in the house were chaos, to say the least
The house was never quiet, with yelling and screaming bouncing off the walls so often that you were temped to get earplugs, but you wouldn't trade it for the world
The boy you adopted, who you named Sake, seemed harsh on the outside, but was a real sweetheart on the inside, just like your Sanemi
However, it took just one sentence to ruin this to what seemed like beyond repair
The normal arguments were going on between Sanemi and Sake, but it seemed to be more serious this time
Before you could intervene, Sanemi, out of a fit of rage, yelled, "Just because we adopted you from that orphanage doesn't mean that we won't dump you back there!"
The silence hung like a blanket that was too heavy, suffocating everyone under the weight
Tears rolled down Sale's face as he looked to Sanemi in shock, betrayal and hurt shining in his eyes
You watched as Sake's eyes dulled so much that his eyes almost looked black, void of emotion, and his tears dry up instantly
You recognise the look on his face
That was the look you had on your face when you were abandoned by your family, a defense reflex for when you knew that if you were to cry, things would just become even worse
"Sake....?" You called to him, but he doesn't seem to see you
Before you or Sanemi can do anything, you hear something come from his mouth, too quiet to be heard the first time, but then you realize what he is saying
"I'm sorry.... I'm sorry...."
You feel like bursting into tears upon hearing this, and you go to hug your son
You got a glimpse of Sanemi's face, who was equally as shocked, not only by his words, but the reaction that he got due to them
Sanemi managed to snap out of it, and immediately came to join your hug, apologising for what he said, trying to reassure him that they wouldn't abandon him and telling Sake to not apologize for what Sanemi had done
At these words, Sake broke, sobbing into you and Sanemi, wailing so loudly that your's and Sanemi's hearts broke
After what seemed like forever, Sake had fallen asleep, exhausted by all the crying
As you tucked him in, Sanemi sat in the kitchen, a look of hopelessness on his face
"I told you I'm not cut out to be a father," Sanemi's voice echoed in the startlingly quiet house
"Mistakes happen, but it is up to us to fix them," you simply reply as you both watch the sunset, too filled with sorrow to say any more words than those
The next day, you wake to find Sake not in bed
This frightens you, and you rush out of your room in search of him, only to find him sitting outside, plucking the grass
You remember one memory where Sake and Sanemi were fighting about pulling the grass, and they both ended up pulling grass from the ground and throwing it at each other
They both got an earful from you, but you could see them grinning at each other like idiots
That memory made you smile, but your smile faded when you saw the dull look in your son's eyes
You don't even realize it, but Sanemi walks towards Sake from behind you and kneels infront of him, looking him straight in the eye
"No matter what I or you say or do, I will never abandon you like I was abandoned, never," Sanemi whispered as he looks at Sake for any sign of acknowledgement
After a few agonizing minutes, Sake's head slowly rises, and you can see tears glinting in his eyes
"You mean it?" he asks, and you know he's trying to stop his tears
"Yes, both of us do," Sanemi promises, and you give Sake a smile when he looks to you
Another minute passes by, and your concern slowly grows, before the tears in Sake's eyes overflow and he's jumping into Sanemi's arms, wailing loudly again, but this time in relief
You join their hug and tears of your own are shed, and you all sit there together on the grass, sobing and comforting each other, knowing that this quite promise to be together always was made
After that day, everything goes back to normal, and you witness as your son grows up to become a Demon Slayer alongside his father, creating a new breathing technique based on Wind Breathing and rising the ranks
As the final battle comes and goes, you find yourself at Sanemi's side as he quickly approaches his demise due to the Demon Slayer Mark
You and Sake hold both his hands as he takes his last breath, never leaving his side until the very end
Despite your Sanemi being gone, you try your best to live and enjoy life
You visit the Kamados and Zenitsu, Insokue, Kanao, and Genya with Sake, and you help take care of them with the occasional visits from Urokodaki and Tengen Uzui
As the days go by, you soon find yourself lying on your bed, drawing your final breaths with Sake at your side
You can tell he is trying to hold back his tears, but they flow anyway, and you brush them away with your boney, frail hands
You lips barely mouth the words I love you before your last breath falls from your lips and you pass on peacefully of old age with Sake at your side, and you know he will stay at your side, always
Gyomei:
When you tell Gyomei that you would like to adopt a child, tears stream down Gyomei's cheeks
You were afraid you made him cry out of sadness, but he reassures you that he cries tears of joy
Out of excitement, you drag Gyomei with you to the city is hopes of finding a child in the main orphanage of the city
However, before you arrived, you caught a glimpse of a little girl in an alley dressed in rags, desperately feeding a ghastly thin cat a small piece of meat
You approach her from behind and tap her arm
She immediately flinches away from the touch, looking up at you with frightened eyes
Gyomei slowly follows, and seeing his holding form, the girl crawls back helplessly, tears starting to stream down her dirt ridden cheeks
Gyomei simply sits down infront of the girl and holds out his large but surprisingly welcoming hand
The girl takes his hand hesitantly, and finds that ur is warm, though hard to the touch, is pleasantly comforting
It seems that exhaustion took her over as she slumps into his hand, her head resting on the hand that lays on Gyomei's warm palm
The cat she was feeding also goes to brush up against his hand and curls next to it contently
You knew from the moment you must take her and the cat in as your children
The first few days was filled with a lot of cleaning
The girl, who you decided to name her Sayo at Gyomei's request, was frightened at first by the unfamiliar environment, but soon warmed up to getting in the bath as Gyomei guided her
To give her privacy, he stepped out as you washed her, and you got to know how she ended up on the streets
You reassure her that you and Gyomei will take care of her, and that her cat is also safe, as Gyomei was washing him outside in the garden
She told you the cat's name was Cookie, because she loved cookies but could never have them often because they were too expensive
As you walk out of the shower with her, you find Gyomei on the porch feeding Cookie some meat from your and his kitchen
Sayo walked over to Gyomei and sat next to him with no fear, touching him lightly as if she didn't want to scare him since he was blind
Gyomei smiled slightly, and both Sayo and Gyomei sat together petting Cookie, as you watched them bond silently with only the setting sun as their witness
As the years went by, Sayo got more used to you and Gyomei
She met all the Hashira, the Kamados and Tanjiro's crew, as well as Master Kagaya and those at the butterfly estate
She especially got along with Kanao, with both of them being soft spoken and their similar pasts
As Sayo grew, she helped out at the butterfly estate, especially as the Demon Slayers prepared for the final battle, helping develop the Anti-Kibutsuji drug
Once the battle was over, news had reached both you and Sayo that Gyomei had passed on fighting valiantly against Muzan Kibutsuji and the Uppermoons
You and Sayo were devastated, but despite that, you both decided to live on to keep Gyomei's memory alive in your hearts, knowing that he was not really gone, but he was resting in both your hearts, eternally
Obanai:
When you finally brought up the suggestion to adopt a child, Obanai almost spit out his tea
Obanai couldn't help but think of all the things that could go wrong if he were to become a father
The one thing he couldn't get over was the fact that any kid would probably be too scared to even look at him because of his scar
Obanai obviously didn't say anything to you, but you could see the inner turmoil he was going through on his face
"Relax, Obanai! I know you'll do great as a father!" you gave him your signature smile and Obanai knew that he couldn't say otherwise
It took a few days to convince Obanai to actually come with you to the orphanage, for Obanai was afraid that, with so many kids around, the bandages around his scar would be pulled down accidentally, leaving the monstrous thing out in the open for prying eyes
Instead of shutting Obanai down, you let him voice all his concerns at once, knowing that Obanai would like to be able to voice his concerns before you look for a solution
"It's not possible to say that those things won't happen, but you just have to trust me," you smile as you run your fingers through Obanai's straight, jet-black hair
Obanai had said nothing after, simply watching the moon shine it's pale light over the both of you, the only witness to this affectionate moment
The nest day, Obanai wakes you early and says, "Come, Y/n. If we want to go to the orphanage, we better leave before traffic picks up."
At Obanai's words, you immediately brighten up, reading Obanai about how he was the one waking you up to go to the orphanage
After you hassle around the house trying to get ready, you and Obanai share breakfast that he made for both of you and you head out to the city soon enough
As you enter the orphanage, you experience a sense if nostalgia, for you remember the time you spent in the orphanage as a child before being thrown out because of shortages in supplies
Obanai sulks behind you, giving a nasty glare to whoever tries to come up and talk to him
However, one child comes and tugs on Obanai's haori lightly
Before Obanai can turn and tell the kid to "fuck off", he notices the bandages around one of her eyes
Quietly, he could hear her say, "You have bandages just like me."
Obanai's eyes widen slightly, and he brushes his bandages unconsciously with his hand
The girl simply stares at him, not saying anything more as the awkward silence continues
Unknowingly to Obanai, you have been watching this interaction, and you tell the owner of the orphanage that you'll take her in
As you, Obanai, and the little girl all take a cart back to your home, you see from the corner of your eye that the little girl is leaning against Obanai, probably sleeping, and Obanai is simply sitting there, watching the sunset
You knew you had a feeling that this child was right for you and your Obanai
It was the middle of the night when you realized the little girl you adopted was not in bed
You immidiately started to panic, startling Obanai awake as you run around the house trying to find her
You end up finding her outside, staring at the moon, her bandaged eye now uncovered, revealing the gruesome scar that hid beneath
You were unsure of how to approach the little girl, who seemed so lost as she simply stared at the moon, however, Obanai walked over from where he was standing behind you, taking a seat next to the girl
You realized that his mouth was not covered with bandages as it usually was, displaying his equally large scar that ran from the corners of his mouth
The girl looked over to Obanai, eyes wandering over his face curiously, before stopping at his scar
She reached out, tracing the scarred over tissue around his mouth, her mouth agape in what you thought was surprise or awe
After exploring Obanai's face, tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her pale cheeks, and she whispered, "You look like me."
You smile as Obanai agrees with the little girl, taking her hands in his and holding them against his scar
"No matter who tells you you're ugly because of your scar, or if you think your own scar is ugly, remember that you are not the only one suffering. You can always come to me," Obanai said sweetly as he lets go of her hands, though her hands stay on his face
The night grows deep as the little girl continued to shed tears hidden behind a wrapped face, the moon as witness to this moment as feelings are shared for the first time
As years go by, yours and Obanai's daughter, who you named Rin, became a Demon Slayer alongside you and her father
She made many friends on the way, meeting Tanjiro and Nezuko, as well as the rest of their friends and the Hashira and those who worked at the Butterfly Estate
She got along very well with Genya, though he was too shy to speak to her at first, and they shared everything with each other and bonded due to the face that they both have a scar running across their faces
You couldn't help but smile as you saw your daughter laughing along with Kanao as Tanjiro and Zenitsu were chased by Inosuke
Everything felt perfect... until the final battle
As a Demon Slayer yourself, you were present during the fight against Muzan Kibutsuji, trying to defend your comrades as best you could while keeping an eye on Obanai
However, you must have been engrossed in the battle, for by the time Muzan was ended, Obanai was lying on the ground, almost lifeless, with lacerations running across is face and multiple wounds that were bleeding profously
You hold him in his finaly moments, pressing a slight kiss to his forehead as Rin joins you, holding his hand and shedding tears that streamed endlessly down her blood-stained cheeks
Obanai simply whispers the words, "I love you" before the grip on Rin's hand grows slack
Your own tears fall as you and Rin silently grieve the loss of a father and a husband
But the battle wasn't over yet
Muzan has passed down his blood to Tanjiro, causing him to become the Demon King, and drawing out the battle further as the sun still rose, not fazing the new Demon King in the least
You and Rin struggled to fight due to the injuries you both sustained, but you both managed to buy enought time for Kanao to bring Tanjiro back
As everyone embraced in joy as Tanjiro became human again, you and Rin cried silently to the side, still grieving the hole that your family now has
After the final battle, you try to enjoy the days that you have left
You were one of the rare Demon Slayers to have unlocked your Demon Slayer Mark, causing your demise to come rapidly as you reached the age of 25
Your daughter sits at your bedside as you struggle to keep breathing
You know Rin is struggling to hold in her tears, and you caress her scar, giving her a loving look before the light dulled from your eyes and your arm dropped lifelessly
As you reach the light, you can see a faint silhouette of a man, holding his hand out to you
You know it is Obanai as you reach out to take his hand and wrap him in your embrace, both reunited once again
Back down on Earth, Rin's tears fall from her eyes, but she is smiling, knowing that you were finally reunited with your one true love
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shogunish · 1 year ago
Text
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟭]
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pairing. single dad!/dilf! gojo x f! reader
genre. fluff, comfort, slice of life
contents. megumi is gojo's biological son, non-curse! au, language
words. 1.4k
summary. when satoru struggles as a single dad, he's more than thankful when the new neighbor wants to help him out.
note. just a fun little series that i talked with @cinnamonmon about 🫂 also i'm not dead, just lurking in the shadows
comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
previous || next
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when you move into your new apartment, you never expect the sadness of a child to fill the dead of night. soft sobs seep through the walls that are as thin as paper, it seems. otherwise, you wouldn't wake up with heavy eyes and half the mind to silently complain about the kid crying next door. with a groan, you check the time: 11 pm. you let your head drop back into the plush of your pillows, arm draped over your eyes as a sigh slips your lips.
sure, it's normal for children to cry, you know that much, but you would give the world up if it meant that the kid shut–
the sound of a key opening a door catches your attention. is the kid's parent just now coming home from work? that is either irresponsible or a very tragic situation. either way, you swing your legs out of bed, quietly approach the wall separating you from your neighbor and press your ear against it.
such matters are none of your business. and yet, your heart breaks.
"there, there. papa is here now, buddy." satoru speaks in soft tones as he enters megumi's room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. the mattress dips underneath his weight.
white hair is a mess, the toe around his neck loose and a couple of buttons popped open. satoru is as tired as megumi looks.
"where were you? i've waited all day for you, papa." megumi is quick to crawl into his father's arms, burying his face in satoru's chest where he sobbed quietly and refused to let go of his dad. it's likely one of those nights in which satoru would share the bed with megumi, his little bundle of joy (even though the boy is scowling most of the time).
in that moment, satoru hugs megumi a little bit tighter as if it could make up for lost time, hoping that his true feelings somehow got through to the little kid in his arms.
failure is the only thing satoru ever feared when he became a dad and he feels like he's doing a phenomenal job at neglecting his son. satoru wants to be there for megumi, for him to have a good life filled with even better memories and friends, but here he was, crying for his dad who is gone all day and night, stuck in an office that keeps him prisoner every fucking day. it's not fair, he thinks.
a father is supposed to raise his child, love and nurture it, yet..and yet..
you swear you can hear the voice of the man living next door choke up like he is on the verge of tears himself.
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when satoru hears three gentle knocks in the morning, he expects the old hag to be behind the door, telling him to control his son or else she'd file a noise complaint. but instead, a pretty woman stands there, a nervous look on your face and a platter of homemade cookies in your shaky hands.
right..the new neighbor who moved in just a couple of days ago. satoru hasn't seen you around before, but you certainly are a sweet thing, looking all shy and nervous. if he didn't think you're there to complain about megumi crying last night, he'd smirk at you and maybe flirt a little bit.
"hey, uhm..i know this might be weird, but may i talk to you for a second?" your voice is soft like velvet and yet, satoru can't help but believe that your next words would be against his son. because of him.
quickly, you lift up the platter of freshly made cookies and let a smile tug at the corners of your lips. "oh yeah, i made cookies, too!"
satoru can't quite make sense of why exactly you show up at his doorstep in the morning, but you..don't look like trouble if you bring cookies. "..sure, come in."
with a nod of your head, you thank satoru and enter the surprisingly cozy home. pictures of megumi and satoru hang on the walls, shelves are filled with books, photographs and souvenirs from travels. it doesn't take a genius to see that the furniture is rather expensive and you silently wonder just how much satoru earns to be able to afford it. maybe you shouldn't touch anything. just in case.
you're ripped out of your thoughts when a wet snout sniffs you and you're greeted by two dogs, one with black fur, one with pristine white fur. just behind them stands megumi who regards you with a somewhat unimpressed look; completely different from the child you heard last night.
smiling, you offer megumi a warm cookie and kneel down to his height. he is an adorable little thing, you think to yourself. "here, have one. but don't let the dogs eat them. chocolate is bad for them, you know?"
the boy looks at his father who nods at him and finally takes the cookie. "thank you..," he mutters and is quick to hide the candy from his dogs that were already regarding him with those infamous puppy eyes. you can't help but laugh.
a smile tugged at the corners of satoru's lips at the view. affectionately, he ruffled through megumi's hair. "go play with the dogs, megumi. the adults need to talk, okay?"
negumi..pouts. "..fine.." even though he doesn't look too satisfied with his father's words, megumi calls his dogs, kuro and shiro, and goes outside in the garden.
once megumi is out of earshot, satoru's face morphs into a more serious expression. sitting down on the couch, he offers you the seat next to him, cerulean eyes stare at you over the rim of his pitch black shades. "so? what is it you wanted to talk about…?"
"[name]," you fill the gap with a kind smile on your lips, putting the platter of cookies on the coffee table. you don't quite know where to start. your concerns, your offer..it is more than just odd. a beat of silence fills the air while you fidget with your fingers, but satoru doesn't seem to mind as he allows you to gather your thoughts.
"it might sound really weird, but..i heard megumi cry last night and..," you trail off, pausing. "..it sounded like you were struggling.."
"..huh..?" satoru's eyes widen at your words. his cool exterior..it cracked.
you suddenly go on an awkward ramble, telling satoru about how megumi woke you up at 11 pm, how you heard the key in the lock and decided to listen in. "what i'm trying to say is.." a soft sigh slips your lips. "..i don't think you're doing this on purpose and if there's something, anything i can do to help.."
satoru glances outside where megumi plays with the dogs, crumbs of your cookies around his mouth and the ghost of a smile on his little features. giving his little treasure into the care of a stranger should be a no-go for any father who loved their child, but..you look like you really wanted to help with those round eyes of yours staring at him so pleadingly. if you hadn't been genuine, you wouldn't be sitting on his couch and offering your help.
a small, humorless laugh escapes satoru's throat. "megumi's mom left me right after he was born. balancing a full-time job with a kid..it makes me feel like i'm the worst father to walk this earth."
satoru took off his shades, letting you see the sky in his eyes. he pushes his messy bangs back, sighs and even though he still looks stressed, the tension in his shoulders leaves as if he shed a small part of the burden placed upon him.
"i don't think you're a bad father. just an overworked one who needs a hand." and when you say those words in a voice so warm that it rivaled honey, satoru can't help but see the light at the end of a tunnel.
at least one person knows he's trying for megumi. even if that person is a stranger, it felt..good to be seen and heard. just what are you, satoru thought. heavensent? an angel? too good to be true? maybe all of the above.
"..do you think you could watch over megumi tomorrow?"
a grin settles down on your features, crinkles the edges of your eyes and lets a little blush bloom on the apples of your cheeks. "of course!"
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taglist. @ayanominitrash, @torusmochi
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stubz · 3 months ago
Text
Storyteller
"Hello Max, I'm here to surprise Pollix with a early pick up."
"Oh how nice, although I don't know if he'll want to go right now."
"Why not? Is he in the middle of a game?"
"No, its story time."
The tighalax smirks. "You really think he won't want to come because of 'story time'?" he laughs.
"Just look and see." the human smiles.
The teacher leads the giant feline being through the child centre to a corner where a colorful and beautiful plush carpet lays on the floor. Not that you could see it as it was covered by sitting younglings. All entranced by the human standing before them telling them a story rather animatedly and loudly.
"Pollix, lets go." calls Dux, looking at his cub.
Not even a glance.
"Pollix."
An ear twitch but still no look.
"...Pollix!"
The whole class looks including Kim.
"Oh, Pollix, your dad is here."
"Papa, not yet! The story isn't done." whines the cub.
"...you want to finish the story?"
"Pollix wants to finish the story! Jax and Morgana are fighting the monster now!" cries Nova.
"...is it almost over?"
"Oh, um, almost but, Pollix I can tell you the rest tomorrow-"
"My Papa says its okay!" Pollix cries interrupting Kim
"...is it okay if I...?" trails a very embarrassed Kim.
The tighalax nods and actually goes to sit next his cub. The sight making Max snort as the 8 foot tall feline like being towers over the younglings. After he settles in and Pollix snuggles in on his Papa's lap he gives Kim the okay to continue.
"...story teacher!" whines the children, their teacher taking too long for their liking to continue the story.
"Oh...right...okay then." she mutters, face red from nerves and embarrassment. This was the first time a parent saw her tell a story.
"...the monster roared at our heroes, swinging his mighty axe down at them. Flung into the air our hero, Jax, is grabbed by the giant's fist and thrown into the monster's mouth." The cubs gasp as the human acts out the catching their hero. Her voice slowly getting louder again.
"NO!"
"What does Morgana do?!"
"Is he dead?!"
"Morgana, seeing that the villain ate her friend charges at him as soon as she lands. Her sword drawn and ready, her face angry, eyes full of tears, and with a mighty cry leaps at the giant." She begins to act out the story, going back to her story telling enthusiasm.
"The monster in turn swings his axe at her, with her in the air it will definitely hit her. The axe hits Morgana and she falls to the ground badly hurt...but not without killing the beast. At the last moment she gathers all her magic into her sword and throws it at the giant monster, piercing his evil heart!" cries Kim, thrusting her hand out as if she had just thrown the very sword.
"...and then..." whispers Nova.
"The monster fades away, revealing a hurt but alive Jax. Seeing Morgana he drags himself to her and they hug, happy to see each other again. Even if they're both not in one piece. The healers arrive and the two head home where they continue the rest of their adventure together, as they were always meant to be. The end."
The cubs cheer with most asking for another story.
"No, no more stories for today. Let's give Kim a break, okay, she's already told you 4 stories." Max ushers the kids towards the toys.
"That was a very good tale teacher Kim, I never knew Earth had such interesting history."
"Hmm? Oh that wasn't our history."
"A legend or folktale then?"
"No, just a made up story."
"Ah, could you tell me the name of it? I would like to read it to Pollix at home, it sounded very interesting."
"Oh uh, I actually just made it up." the human smiles.
"You made it up!? How long ago? Must have taken you ages." Praised Dux, tail flicking in excitement.
"Actually I just made it up now, I make the story up as I go."
"...you make it up as you go...y'know that offer to quit your job and join my pack still stands right? Our planet and culture greatly value Storytellers such as yourselves, you could even make a great living if you worked for me."
"Thanks but I don't think I could ever do that, I hate public speaking!" grins the human.
"...but you just-"
"Children are the exception."
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