#and then one of them dies in front of you and you have to hold his body for that brief moment he’s dead knowing you can’t do anything
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A fan little add on to this blurb. Not proofread.
—
“I’m Spider-Man.”
“…ha…ah ha…” Miguel couldn't help but let out a huff at your delirious sounding laugh. “Miguel this isn’t the time for silly-haha-jokes, our daughter is on the ceiling! Oh my god, I’m so glad my parents aren’t home…”
“Babe-babe calm down, you're rambling.”
“Don’t babe me, we’re not dating anymore!”
“Our baby is on the ceiling, me calling you babe shouldn’t be your biggest concern right now.”
“It’s the principle of it! Look, can you just hurry up and get here, so I can figure out what to do with…gabi…” Your words died as you glanced over to your window, eyes wide as the moon as your phone slipped out of your hand, landing on your bedroom carpet.
You felt like you were dreaming. The same blue and red suit that was always plastered on the living room tv, was now crawling in through your window. A surprised gasp left your lips as you watched the masked man shoot a few neon red webs in order to make a makeshift safety net underneath your upside down daughter. Let out a yelp as she grabbed onto the net and began to make her way down. Her little giggled filled the room as she ascended down the webbing like, well, a spider.
“Look at that, she's a natural.” Miguel mumbled, pulling his mask off from his head “Just like her dad…” If you didn’t believe Miguel’s claims before, you certainly did now.
“I need to sit down…” You stumbled backwards till your knees hit the back of your bed, one hand flying to your chest in an attempt to help calm the rapid pounding against your ribcage while the other grips your comforter to help stabilize yourself.
“Oh god, don’t go into shock….” Miguel mumbled jokingly, though the genuine undertone of concern was still prevalent. He grabs Gabriella as soon as she was in arms reach, before moving to kneel in front of where you were sitting. His free hand carefully comes down to rest of your knee, as if attempting to reassure you that he was real. Almost flinching it away when you let out a small squeal. “Babe?”
“This is real?” You asked, being met with a hum and a nod. “You’re…you’re Spider-Man. My ex is Spider-Man.” Another nod, “And my baby-who I had with Spider-Man-has powers?”
There was a pause, Miguel watching as you began to slowly process the life altering information you had just discovered within the hour. Before you turned towards your ex-boyfriend, with a new look in your eye.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me before you got me pregnant!?”
“Well-in my defense-I didn’t think our baby would come out with powers-“ Miguel put the hand that wasn’t holding your toddler up in defense. Going to stand up as you go off the bed, your glare intensifying.
“You study genetics!”
“Well-“ You let out a huff as he trailed off, knowing he didn’t have a way to justify his lack of communication about the subject. Slightly shaky hands going to rub your temples to help with the oncoming headache.
“…How long?” You asked after a beat, voice softer as you finally composed yourself. Hands tucking into your arms as you crossed them. Migue let out a heavy sigh as Gabriella decided she no longer wanted to be held, wiggling around under he put her down.
“Not too long…” He muttered, trying to beat around the brush. You knew he was bluffing too, he’s been Spider-Man for at least a few months before Gabriella was born, since you two had split up when she was around six months. She was a year now.
“Miguel.”
“Fine! A year and 7 months!” He confessed, making you scoff in disbelief. Eyes widening even more than you thought they could.
“And you didn’t tell me?!”
“I didn’t want you to see me as some freak!” His declaration makes your scolding words die in your throat. Anger dimensioning as soon as those words left his lips.
Some freak? Did he really think you’d ever think of him like that? Your hand falls over your face as you let out a heavy sigh.
“Miguel, I saw you finish your double bacon cheeseburger on our first date in two bites… if I can look past that I can be a bit understanding of this whole…situationship.” You motioned to the web filled room. “I just wished you told me before you got me pregnant.”
“Fair…” He mumbled
“Because now I’ll have to figure out how to keep Gabriella off the walls, I just finished baby proofing the house too.” Miguel couldn’t help but let out a slight chuckle, despite this word altering news, you still found a way to put your daughter first.
“I mean… you could move back in… wall crawling adult to grab the wall crawling baby.” He might as well give it a shot while he’s at it right?
“No, Miguel.” You laughed, picking up Gabriella as she crawled towards you, fixing the little tufts of hair on her head “Good try through.”
“Can’t blame a man for trying…” He muttered as he began to clean up his webs.
—
Writing skills are rusty lol hopefully this is okay :3
Taglist: @ladysimp @juneonhoth @Tatatida @auro-a (join taglist)
#miguel o hara fanfic#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara au#spiderman 2099 x reader#astv spiderman 2099#astv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel fanfic#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x reader#spiderman 2099 fanfic#spiderman 2099 spiderverse
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Lifelines
——-
Part one here
——-
Tommy leads them up to the front door, shifting her up onto his shoulder, holds her in one arm, hand cradling her head while he opens the door. She snuffles reaching out in sleepy blindness. He tilts his head towards her, presses a kiss to her forehead. Her little hand grasps around until she finds the shell of his ear and settles immediately.
“She’s cute.”
“Ava, her name is Ava.”
He glances up the stairs, normally he would put her down. The one blessing in all of this is that Ava is as big a fan of sleeping as Tommy. He doesn’t want to put her down now, instead he picks the small blanket off the back of the sofa and tucks it around her. He sits down and immediately remembers he’s supposed to be making coffee. He sighs and goes to get up again, but Chimney is quicker.
“Kitchen in there?” He asks, pointing out of the door and down the hall.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to, I can-“ he is cut off by a wave of Chimney’s hand.
“Sit down man, I remember what this bit is like, I’ll make the coffee.”
——-
“My sister died. Her husband too. A car wreck.”
Chimney winces. He knew that it wasn’t going to be good.
“I’m sorry.” It doesn’t feel like anything close to enough.
Tommy scrubs his face with his free hand.
“I don’t how to do this Howie.” Tommy swallows around the lump in his throat. The admission that had been swirling in his mind for the last two months, finally said out loud.
Chimney makes a sympathetic sound.
“I was taking her to this group but- it’s stupid, everyone thinks I’m her dad, and when I tell them I’m just her Uncle they- they look at me differently. Like I’m not part of their club, like-” he hears his voice crack, he closes his eyes and forces himself to take a breath.
“I haven’t gone the last couple of weeks.”
“Something happened?”
“One of the mums, she didn’t mean to, she was just trying to make conversation.” He chews on his lip. “She asked what Ava’s parents do for work.”
Chimney blows out a breath.
“And I just couldn’t, I couldn’t speak. I felt like she’d just punched me in the face.” He laughs humourlessly. “I’d probably have felt better if she had. I haven’t gone back. I can’t even think about it because-” the edge of his vision begins to blur. “Because if I think about it then- I’ll never be her parent. W-what if I can’t do it? What if I just drag her down with me and-“ A tear slips free, he’s hyper aware of it as it tracks down his cheek.
Chimney shifts on the couch, puts his hand on Tommy’s knee.
“I know. When Kevin died, it felt like I was falling. All the time.” Chimney ducks his head. “He’d been there my whole life, and then he just wasn’t. So I get it.” He looks up, meeting Tommy’s gaze. “But if there’s one thing I’ve always known about you, it’s that you come through. It’s doesn’t matter what it is, you show up. That’s all she needs. She just needs someone who is going to show up for her, that’s enough.”
Tommy takes a shaky breath, the doubt clear on his face.
“She’s so little. I just- I don’t know how I’ll ever explain to her what happened. That I’m not who she thinks I am.”
“I mean it, you are enough. And if you need some help then that’s not you failing, Tommy. An 8 month old by yourself is no picnic, I would know.”
“I don’t-“ he swallows harshly. “I don’t want to put you in that position.”
“In what position? Helping out a friend?”
“You know what I mean.”
Chimney sighs.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. But if you think he wouldn’t be twice as mad about me knowing and not helping then-” he stops short. It hangs between them.
“What happened? You guys seemed so good and the next thing I know I’m drowning in poppy seed loaf.”
Tommy shoots him a quizzical look.
“He’s dealing with it by baking. A lot. Honestly it’s getting to be an issue.”
“He asked me to move in with him.”
Chimney does a great job of not spitting out the sip of coffee he was taking.
“He did what?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No, oh my god, that’s so Buck of him. All in, all the time.”
Tommy chuckles, but the humour quickly drains.
“It scared the shit out of me. I’ve done this before and it doesn’t matter how much I l-” he cuts himself off. “I’m not the guy people end up with.”
“So you ran?”
“Haven’t you heard Howie? Running is the only thing I’m really good at.”
“Hey, that’s not true. You’re pretty nifty with a helicopter.”
Tommy smiles, but it’s tight.
“I was going to call, I was and then-” he clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter now anyway.” He turns his head, resting his cheek against Ava’s.
“If your biggest problem was that you cared about him so much that it gave you the jitters, then I think it very much does matter.”
Tommy shakes his head minutely.
“What am I supposed to say? You went too fast and scared me, I need to be able to slow down and make sure we’re doing this right. Oh and by the way I have a child now.” Chimney rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.
“Well you could take the sarcasm down a notch and give him some credit.” There’s the slightest tinge of sharpness to Chimney’s voice. His phone chimes and he glances down at the screen.
“I’ve got to go, just- just call him. Tell him what you told me. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you don’t just let go of something like this.” He stands, picking up the mugs from the coffee table and taking them into the kitchen. For a moment Tommy thinks he might just leave, but he doesn’t. Instead he crouches down next to the couch, gives Tommy a soft look.
“I meant it, when I said I would help. I’ll come by next week, we can go for a walk or something - or I can take her and give you a break. Whatever you need.”
Tommy feels his heart clench inside his chest.
“Yeah, okay. That would be good.”
“Great.”
Chimney heads to the door, just before he closes it he yells back into the house.
“Call him!”
The door clicks shut and Tommy feels like his entire body turns into jelly. An indeterminate amount of time later he forces himself up off the couch, takes Ava upstairs and gently lays her down in her crib. He pulls out his phone and finds the contact.
He takes a deep breath and presses the call button.
——-
[Read on A03]
Winner of the name! that! baby! event is the lovely @rubydaiquiri 🥳🥳🥳 Ava stole my heart! Thank you to everyone who gave me suggestions and the feedback on the first part blew me away, you are all truly amazing 🫶🏻
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed);
@leashybebes @beanarie @partofthelouniverse @big-urchin-energy @loucifersbitch @fyrehose @evansbuck-ley @sad-girl-hours23 @certifiedbisexualdisaster @theweewooshow @beckym2001 @kinardevans @bidisasterevankinard
@sweaters-and-silly @apassingbird @sunnywithachanceofbi @theotherbuckley @desert--moonchild @comfortingevanbuckley @livelaughlou @typicalopposite @wikiangela @bi-bi-buckleys @littlepaws9 @ohithankyou
@agentpeggycartering @sherlockismarvelous9-1-1 @adiprose @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @honeyloulou @tommykinard @casismybestfriend @owlgirl495 @hellion-child @3min17sec @sherlocking-out-loud @o0anapher0o @sorryimlatecapt
@buffaluff @hipsterdarcy @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @that-one-dudette @aringofsalt @cliophilyra @bisexualmadney @reginamillls @zeraparker @harmonic-intervention
#two chapters in two days????#who am I and what has this fic done to me#as always thank you so much for your support#the reception on part one actually floored me#🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻#and we named that baby - go team 😘😘😘#lifelines#my writing#bucktommy#(we will get there I promise)#tommy kinard#parent Tommy#chimney han#evan buckley#911#911 fanfic#my post
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Flowers & Cherries chp.2 (Jinx x Reader)
Notes: alrighty, we have finished chapter two! Apologies in advance for any typos, I am very very very bad at proofreading. This is a SFW chapter! As per the last chapter, this one is also on AO3 (MisanthropicMoose).
Summary: Your partnership with Silco and your friendship with Jinx have been going great for months. That is, until Silco makes an absolutely outlandish proposition, and Jinx seem to know something you don't.
CW: description of needles/injections
That night, the Last Drop was a chaos of blaring music, strobing neon lights and sweaty bodies writhing against one another in motions loosely resembling dance. Sitting at the bar, you occasionally glanced out into the crowd, fruitlessly trying to focus on someone or something in particular, only for your vision to once again be overtaken by a cacophony of vibrant stimuli. It definitely didn’t help that every time you got to the bottom of your glass, a new one, filled to the brim, seemed to appear in front of you as if by magic. You weren’t in the habit of binge drinking under normal circumstances, but you haven’t had a night off in so long that you were practically itching for a hangover. Your head was spinning, and with every gulp the worries of the previous months melted away. You felt good. Alive.
As you brought the rim of your glass to your lips again your gaze shifted from the crowd back to Jinx. She sat on a bar stool next to yours, legs swinging rhythmically, sipping on something from a tall glass through a straw. You wondered if whatever she was consuming was even alcoholic. From the way she stayed perfectly sober after several portions of the mystery liquid, you assumed it wasn’t. Or maybe this girl could hold her liquor like no one you’ve ever seen.
“So, he comes up to me and goes, ‘Freeze! You’re under arrest!’. And I went, ‘Actually, you are under arrest!’. And he got all confused, had this stupid look on his face,” Jinx grimaced, presumably imitating the man in question, then took a big sip of her drink. You watched as she reached for the straw with her mouth, the way her lips wrapped around it, throat bobbing as she drank. You felt your mouth go dry, and suddenly a warmth was rising to your cheeks. It was just the alcohol doing its thing, you thought to yourself. Just the alcohol.
You cleared your throat.
“And what happened then?” you asked. Jinx’s eyes met yours, and for a second you read genuine confusion in them before she seemed to recollect the topic of the conversation again.
“Ah, well while he stood there looking all dumb, I chucked a bomb at him. And he exploded. And died. That’s sort of how all my stories end if I am being honest,” she stated matter-of-factly, but you could have sworn you saw her face drop a little.
Your brows furrowed. You knew a little about Jinx’s history, about Vander and the kids. You felt sad for them, for her. Someone told you the story once, and, at the time, it was sobering. It was one of those stories that taught you that power in the Undercity always changed hands violently, and that no one, especially not the innocents, was safe from the violence. Such a tragic waste too. From what you heard, Vander and Silco were very close once.
You shook your head a little, trying to rid it of somber thoughts. That was the past, the past that had nothing to do with you, the past you couldn’t change no matter how much you tried. There was no point in dwelling on it, not on one of your scarce nights off, not when you had a new friend sitting across from you.
“You okay?” Jinx seemed to notice your discomfort. She placed a hand on your shoulder and looked inquisitively into your face. You gave her the best smile you could manage, but you knew perfectly well that in your inebriated state it came out weird and crooked.
“Yeah. Just need to lay off the booze for a bit, I think,” you groaned, pushing the half-empty glass away lightly. Jinx’s hand was still on your shoulder, and you noticed her rubbing small circles with her thumb. It felt good. Comforting.
“Well,” Jinx’s hand travelled down your arm and grasped your slightly larger hand in hers, “I want to dance!”.
With that, she hopped off her bar stool, dragging you down with her. You were too drunk to object as she dragged you onto the dance floor. You just followed the sight of two blue braids swinging behind her, letting her drag you by the hand wherever she pleased. When you finally made it, you tried your best to steady yourself on your feet, dodging the sporadically moving people surrounding you. The next song started playing over the speaker. A man was rapping in a language you didn’t understand.
Suddenly, Jinx’s face came back into view. She was standing in front of you, having let go of your arm now. Everything else faded away, sounds became muffled. You could only make out the beat of the base, and as Jinx started moving, no, flowing around you, you mimicked her movements the best you could. Your body nearly missed collision with hers as you slithered around one another, fingertips sliding over one another ever so slightly. Blue ribbons of hair flowed behind her, circling her body, and you found yourself mesmerized by them. As she came closer, you could feel her heat, somehow different from the heat of every other body around you. In that moment, no one else existed. Only her, flashing lights, and the base of the song. It was entrancing, intoxicating, almost meditative.
The magic ended as you tripped over somebody’s foot and started on your trajectory face-first to the floor. Thankfully, your fall was interrupted as Jinx moved in closer to you, propping you up.
“You know, for someone so allegedly badass, you are quite clumsy!”
The song playing now was much louder, and Jinx was shouting over the music now, a wide grin plastered on her face as she looked at you mockingly. You regained your balance and let go of her.
“I just… I just can’t really dance,” you shouted back, trying not to let your embarrassment show.
Thank God for the mind-altering properties of alcohol. If it wasn’t for them, you would’ve been burning alive with shame right now. Instead, you started shuffling and flailing around wildly, trying to match the erratic rhythm of the music. Jinx watched you with a cocked head, openly giggling at your antics. When she had enough, she took your hand in hers again and dragged you back to your seats at the bar.
“I think that’s enough of that,” she laughed, “If people find out Smeech has such an epic dancer as his right hand, he might get too full of himself”.
The reminder of Smeech suddenly jolted you out of your drunken haze. Your eyes somehow regained the ability to focus, and you scanned your surroundings thoroughly, trying to see if anyone was shooting you weird glances. The Last Drop was a relatively safe place for people like you, people rarely did their dirty work in, or anywhere around, the place. But you still always had to be on the lookout. For goons from rivalling gangs, for spies, for assassins that could be tracking you down.
Your change of demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Jinx.
“No, no, no,” she pouted, shaking you lightly by the shoulders, “don’t go all professional mode on me. I like you drunk and cute”.
You took one final look around the place. Satisfied with the fact that no one seemed to pay the two of you any mind, you shot Jinx an apologetic smile.
“Sorry. Force of habit.”
The blue-haired woman climbed back up on the bar stool, put and elbow on the table and leant her head on her hand.
“What do you have to worry about, anyway? You are essentially Smeech’s Sevika and I am, well, Silco’s Jinx. No one in their right minds would fuck with us.”
“If only everyone around was in their right mind.”
Over the next several months, you have settled into a bit of a rhythm. Your meetings with Silco were relocated from the empty chem baron meeting room to his own office. The transition was a little bit unsettling for you; after all, having to enter what was essentially the most dangerous room in the entire Undercity couldn’t be comfortable. The first time you showed up, a tall, muscular woman in a conspicuous cloak blocked your path and glared down at you in a way that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You knew of Sevika, of course. You knew what kind of lethal appendage was hidden under that burgundy cloak. Being in the presence of such raw physical power made you feel incredibly small, despite the fact that you knew your reputation was comparable to hers, albeit for different reasons. You introduced yourself to her and made the dangerous move of initiating a handshake. Thankfully, she used her human hand.
You and Silco have developed a close partnership, tweaking your deals whenever the need came up. Smeech’s protection services of Silco’s shimmer transportation routes became a permanent arrangement, proving to be more than profitable for the both of you. Having to do business with Silco kept you sharp; your collaboration did not mean that he was willing to be charitable, and you had to keep your foot firmly planted to ensure that your goons were not getting cheated out of their share. You harbored no illusions; Silco was a slippery, cunning man and most definitely not your friend.
The same could not be said about Jinx. Though you understood the conflict of interest that arose from your friendship, whenever she would catch up to you in the alleyway leading out of Silco’s quarters and beg you to hang out, you couldn’t say no. You weren’t sure whether this was entirely due to your affection for her as a person, or whether it was some strange unfulfilled older sibling complex left behind after the death of your family. Either way, you liked spending time with her. And you could say that you simply got cocky enough to allow yourself such pleasantries without worrying about the opinion of the criminal world. Being friendly with a member of a rivalling gang was the least scandalous affair in your circles.
The two of you would often meet at the Last Drop, though you would sometimes pop into Jinx’s workshop and watch her work on various projects. She never built weapons in front of you, you assumed under instruction from Silco. That made sense. And you didn’t feel like making things awkward by saying the quiet part out loud.
All went smoothly, until it didn’t.
One afternoon, as you were on your usual stroll to Smeech’s office, you heard a short, sharp whistle emanate from a nearby alleyway. You recognized the signal – Silco needed to speak to you. You approached the alleyway cautiously, and as you peered in you were able to make out Sevika’s looming figure. The two of you stared at each other for a moment.
“Is something the matter?” you asked. A sheer layer of cold sweat suddenly coated your palms. You had set times and dates for meeting Silco, the routine had been uninterrupted for months at that point. If he went out of his way to send Sevika for you, something out of the ordinary must have occurred. And in your experience, out of the ordinary was, more often than not, trouble.
Sevika made a beckoning gesture and retracted further into the alleyway, being quickly engulfed by the darkness. You followed. It was cool and humid in there, and the skin on your forearms erupted in goosebumps. Your eyes haven’t yet adjusted, and you stretched out your arm, trying to navigate, until you felt your fingers brush a mound of something, covered in fabric. You snatched your hand back; that was Sevika.
“Silco has requested you come see him tonight,” Sevika started in a hushed tone, “Come alone, don’t tell anyone where you are going. Not the goons, not Smeech, no one, understand?”
You squinted in the direction of her voice, trying to make out her figure.
“Why so urgently?” you asked, “Our next meeting was scheduled for Thursday.”
An annoyed huff reached you from the dark.
“Because he said so.”
You had nothing to retort. If Silco wanted to see someone, they had better come running. That was just the law of nature around here. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Sevika spoke again. Her tone seemed to have marginally softened, maybe she took pity on you. She could probably tell how nervous you were getting.
“Seriously, I don’t know. Silco’s planning something, but he’s not telling any of us yet. Except for Jinx, probably,” you noticed an edge of disdain in the latter part of her sentence. It was, famously, Sevika’s job to clean up Jinx’s messes, so the fact that she was always more in the know about Silco’s plans than even his right hand must have been infuriating.
You shifted on your feet, mind racing, trying to piece together as much as a theory. Silco was always planning something, no doubt about that. But why did he feel the need to talk to you, of all people? You were not his goon. You held your own set of interests. Was he seeking your council? Support? These were ambitious suggestions, to put it nicely. You were great at solo assassinations and business negotiation, but that’s where your list of exceptional strengths ended. You were not a raid strategist, you had nothing to offer him in that regard. You had no intel on any Piltover adjacent affairs. If he was seeking you specifically, it must have been something concerning Smeech. But what could that possibly be? To your knowledge, everything was going smoothly between your respective gangs. Were you wrong? Oh God, did Smeech fuck something up?
While you stood there, trying to collect your thoughts, you felt Sevika’s cloak brush your side. She didn’t say another word, just slithered past you and out into the acid-hue light of the Undercity. You were now alone in the dark, listening to water droplets fall monotonously somewhere deep in the alley.
Okay.
Okay.
There was no point in panicking just yet. You had no information to work with. Silco always had a flare for the theatrical, perhaps he just felt like disturbing your peace to keep you on your toes. Remind you of your place, and such. Maybe he has a new urgent deal to negotiate.
Having decided on that hypothesis, you slowly emerged from the alley and continued on your way. You found yourself with your hands shoved deep into your trouser pockets, kicking an empty can down the street as you walked. What was it? What could it be?
Nightfall came quickly, and you were now standing in front of Silco’s office door, trying to steady your breaths. Be cool, be cool. It’s just another meeting. It’s just Silco.
‘Just Silco’? Have you lost your fucking mind? The man will let his shimmer-pumped mutations rip you apart for looking at him weird. He will gut you, armpit to asshole, and then go to dinner with Jinx like nothing fucking happened.
You should have left a final note, you thought to yourself as the door to Silco’s office opened and you stepped in.
You found Silco sitting in his high-back plush chair, as usual. But to your horror, he wasn’t leisurely exhaling rings of smoke, as he usually did. Both of his elbows were planted on the table, he was leaning forward slightly. His jaw was tense. He was tense.
You shot Sevika, who was holding the door open for you, a pleading look. You didn’t know what you were pleading for, precisely. You knew she wouldn’t protect you. If anything, if you were to die in this room tonight, she would be the one to finish you off. She didn’t react to your silent cry for help, but you could have sworn you saw her eyebrow twitch. Did she still not know why you were here?
You were now standing in front of the Eye of Zaun. The flame in his obsidian eye burned you alive, you suddenly felt small. Vulnerable. Naked, even. You were trapped, had nowhere to run or hide, no one knew where you were. No one would come to help.
“Take a seat,” the man gestured to a chair opposite him. You approached it, legs suddenly the consistence of gelatine, and lowered yourself onto it in the most collected way you could manage.
A heavy silence filled the room, interrupted only by the ticking of a clock somewhere out of sight. You could barely hear it over the sound of blood rushing to your temples. You felt a migraine start coming on. You suddenly wanted to cry, not from sadness or even fear for your life, but out of frustration. You have done so many jobs, put your ass on the line so often, ran as fast as you could on the shitty fucking hamster wheel of assassinations, robberies, meetings, missions, just to stay afloat. To stay alive. And now, now that you finally got good at it, now that you finally pulled Smeech’s whole gang and yourself out the vat of shit you’ve been stewing in for years by your own fucking hair, this smug, scrawny, deformed fucker was going to take it all from you? And you couldn’t even put up a fight? What a waste, what a massive, insufferable waste! Of time, of blood, of life! If you knew it would end like this, you would’ve just laid down in that rubble with the rest of your family and froze to death. Now you wouldn’t even get to visit their graves for the last time.
“Do you like working for Smeech?”
Silco’s words sliced through the tantrum in your mind like a knife. Your brain fell deathly quiet. All that remained was a throbbing vein on your forehead, and dull pain spreading to the back of your skull. What did he say?
“What?”
“I said, do you like working for Smeech?”
The headache was now roaring like a forest fire. Feeling like you’ve got nothing to lose, you brought your fingers to both temples and massaged them roughly, closing your eyes.
“He is my boss. Working for him is what I do. Whether I like it or not doesn’t matter,” you muttered through gritted teeth. Your eyes were still closed, and you heard Silco shift in his chair. That’s it. He was coming to slit your throat.
You listened to him get up and walk behind you. You stayed seated. There was no point fighting. A wave of exhaustion, the like of which you have never felt before, crashed over you. Your temples rang.
A feeling of cold fingers on both of your temples jolted you out of your trance, like a bucket of ice water being tipped all over you. You tried to rip out of your seat, but Silco’s elbows came down on your shoulders sharply, keeping you in place. He rubbed small, gentle circles over your temples, and a sob choked in your throat. What the fuck was he doing? Couldn’t he just kill you normally and be done with it?
“Do you want something for the pain?” his voice cascaded down on you in muffled waves. You looked up at him. You knew there were tears glistening in your eyes, and under any other circumstances you would’ve been embarrassed, but you were way too tired for that. Without thinking, you nodded.
Silco glanced over at Sevika and cocked his head towards a cupboard propped up against the far-left wall. She opened it, and after a few moments of rummaging extracted a vile of neon purple, sparking liquid, and a syringe. Shimmer. You instinctively tried to rip out of Silco’s grasp again. You hated the thought of taking shimmer yourself, as hypocritical as it seemed when considering yours and Silco’s arrangements. You’ve seen what bad strands did to people. One particularly bad month several years ago, after a bad batch hit the market, you had to put down several of your goons as they descended into madness. Silco’s grip stayed firm.
“Don’t worry,” he assured, applying some more pressure to your temples, “It’s a pain killer. Completely safe. I take it all the time for my eye.”
The pain was so bad now you could barely move your jaw. All you could do was watch through heavy eyelids as Sevika inverted the vile several times, inserted the needle of the syringe into it and pulled back the plunger. She held the syringe needle up and tapped it several times, bringing any bubbles to the top. She then pushed the plunger, letting a small amount of liquid shoot out, taking the remaining bubbles with it. By all accounts, you thought, they were trying to inject you safely.
As Silco let go of your head and moved in front of you, he held out his hand in Sevika’s general direction. You saw her eyes widen in confusion a bit before dropping the syringe into his palm. He was going to inject you himself, it seemed. How sweet. He lied to you. It’ll probably make you go crazy, make your brain go all mushy bananas.
“I’m doing this intravenously,” Silco muttered, squatting down next to you and rolling up your sleeve, “Because Singed found that this stuff gets digested too quickly to make it to your brain. It’s different for the eye. Its right there, you just inject it, and it works.”
You winced a little as he pushed the needle into your vein. The purple liquid seeped into you as he pushed the plunger carefully.
“Why are you doing this?” every syllable took all your concentration and still came out wonky, “If you are going to kill me, just do it.”
His blue eye found yours, eyebrow lifted in barely registrable surprise.
“Who said anything about killing you? I want you to stop being in pain so we can talk.”
The shimmer was coursing through your veins now in glowing purple streaks under the skin. With every passing second, the pain ceased. Your vision cleared, and as you blinked away the last of your tears you saw Silco discard the syringe in a little bin next his desk and sit back down in his chair. You were now being re-filled with energy, and the embarrassment you were too exhausted to care about before now raged through you. You cried in front of him. In front of Silco. You found yourself wishing he had killed you.
Silco watched as life poured back into you.
“Do you have these episodes often?”
“Only when I’m really stressed.”
“Do you get this stressed often?”
“No, this is the first in a while.”
��And why were you so stressed just now?”
You breathed out through your nose slowly.
“Because I thought you were going to kill me. And I didn’t know what for.”
Silco studied you for a moment, then nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with your honesty. He tapped the desk with his fingers.
“I called you here today,” he started, looking at you intently, “Because I want you to join my team.”
You blinked, struggling to understand what was happening. The pain was almost entirely gone now, but you were afraid your cognitive abilities were still lagging behind.
“But,” you stated carefully, “I work for Smeech.”
“I know. I want you to leave him, and start working for me,” he gestured towards himself.
Your eyes narrowed.
“With all due respect, I am not a rat. Smeech is not the best boss, I’ll admit, everyone knows that. I have a hard time working for him, he is lazy and incompetent. But he took me in. He put a roof over my head, clothes on my back, food in my stomach. Back, when I had nothing to show for myself. I worked hard to help make our gang what it is today, and I will not abandon it. I believe that the only way to build something worthwhile is through patience and integrity. Smeech is my cross to bear,” you realized that that must have been the longest you have ever talked at Silco. He didn’t interrupt, only listened closely, taking in what you were saying diligently. When you were done, he pulled out a cigar from the top drawer of his desk and lit it. A familiar scent of smoke filled the room.
“I don’t doubt your loyalty,” he sent a ring of smoke in your general direction, “Loyalty is the most important thing, I value it over anything else. But don’t you think it would be nice if Smeech and his goons repaid you with the same loyalty you show them? Wouldn’t it be nice for them to stick their neck out for you a little bit? Don’t you want better working conditions, to be treated with the respect you deserve? Sure, in my gang you will not be my right hand, Sevika is doing a sufficient job, but some little birds have told me that you are not after power or influence anyway. You will continue doing what you have been doing with Smeech, except without the extra responsibility of running the entire ship, and for better pay,” he paused and leant in closer to you, “As much as it hurts, sometimes we outgrow those we once shared a path with.”
The room fell silent again. Your thoughts swarmed. Silco’s proposition was tempting, of course it was. You have longed for the kind of lifestyle he described. But did you want it bad enough to throw away everything you’ve built, your reputation? To be known as the traitor that jumped ship when a better deal came along? Would Silco himself even be able to trust you after that?
“No,” you stood up from the chair and dusted off your pant leg, “I’m sorry, Silco. All of that is tempting, and I am flattered you would even make such a proposal in the first place, but I can’t do it. I may not have much as of right now, but I have pride. You must understand me.”
His mismatched eyes followed you as you turned to the door.
“The offer will stand up until the gathering tomorrow,” he called after you, “You remember that all of your goons have to be there, along with Smeech?”
He was talking about the big monthly gathering your gang had with Silco. A performance review of sorts. You nodded and turned your head to him.
“I remember. Everyone will be there,” you were about to get going, but then a tinge of guilt ran through you. You turned to face him fully.
“And thank you. For helping me today,” you gestured at your head, “I’ll pay you back for the shimmer. And I’m sorry.”
Silco waved at you dismissively. He didn’t say another word, and if you have known him any less you would’ve thought he looked… disappointed? But that, of course, couldn’t be the case. Sevika opened the door for you, and you slipped out into the night. Silco then dismissed Sevika. The office fell gravely silent.
Silco tilted his head up and looked up at the beam running along the roof above his desk. Off to the side, in the dark, a small, blue-haired figure sat silently.
“You heard her,” Silco called out towards the ceiling, “She made her choice. I did everything I could.”
The figure said nothing. It sat, hugging its knees, lightly rocking. Then, suddenly, it dropped down onto the table and dashed out the door at a superhuman speed. Silco only registered two long flowing braids flying past him before the figure disappeared into the night. He sighed and poured himself a drink.
You stomped through the crowded streets of Zaun, unceremoniously pushing anyone that crossed your pathway out of the way. All the fear, all the confusion, all the pain, all of it morphed into a deep, scorching anger that melted your stomach from the inside, burned up the walls of your throat. How dare he? How fucking dare he? Who did he take you for? A fucking rat, a snake, a worm? Why would he even make such a proposition to you? You have always been nothing but loyal to Smeech, that fact was the course of your pride. No matter how difficult, no matter how taxing, you made it work. And now he wanted to prance in, chuck you a bag of money, and expect you to follow him like a dumb sheep? Like a–
You were suddenly swept off your feet by some invisible force and thrown into the nearest alleyway. Before your eyes could adjust to the dark, your back was pressed against the cold brick wall, and another small body was pressing against you. You were about to shout, but a small hand with long nails clamped over your mouth.
“Shh, it’s me! Please, please just listen. Don’t say anything, just listen!”
You recognized the hushed, raspy voice. It was Jinx.
“Don’t go to the meeting tomorrow. Please just trust me, don’t go! Please,” she whispered inches away from your year, her breath ticked the crook of your neck. You pulled her hand off of your mouth.
“Jinx, what the fuck are you doing? Why shouldn’t I go? All my goons will be there.”
You finally made out her face. The dim light of the streetlight just outside of the alleyway reflected in the small beads of tears in her blue eyes.
“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you, I really, really can’t. But you have to trust me! Tell them you are sick, tell them you got another headache, anything! Just don’t go,” she begged, pushing even closer into you. How did she know about your migraines?
You pushed her off you. Your voice was cold and stern now.
“Jinx, I am really fucking tired of the mystery games you and your daddy are playing. You either tell me what is going on, and why I shouldn’t go to my job, or I am going home. To sleep before an important meeting tomorrow.”
Halfway through your rant you realized you were being overly harsh. Jinx’s bottom lip was trembling and she latched onto you again. But you couldn’t stop yourself.
“I’m sorry… I can’t. Please!”
She was crying now, her voice breaking off into squeaks. You’ve had enough of this nonsense. You ripped her hands away from yourself again, her nails leaving red trails on your arms. Your head throbbed dangerously again.
“Jinx, please, I have to go home. We can talk about this tomorrow. I am sorry, but I am fucking exhausted from all the mind games. Goodnight.”
And with that, you stormed out of the alleyway, leaving Jinx behind. You knew it wasn’t right, you knew she was upset, and you should comfort her, but in that moment all you wanted was to sleep, for this nightmarish day to be over.
Jinx watched you leave, nervously picking at the nail of her thumb. The further away you got, the more hopeless the situation seemed. A tear fell onto her cheek.
And then, spontaneously, an idea was born. The girl quickly wiped her tears away, shot you one final glance, and started sprinting back home. She had a plan.
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I Can’t Help but Wonder (Warrior!Penelope AU)
Disclaimer: I will not pay for your therapy. I will also feed on your tears
CW: Some mentions and descriptions of blood and injuries
——————————————————————————
Blood was everywhere, on the walls, on the floors, on Penelope. She was drenched in it. Every single suitress lay dead on the floor. Arrows, swords, spears were scattered across the room. Penelope took in the sight stoically.
“Mother?”
Penelope’s body instinctively turned, as if that word were second nature to her, yet it sounded so foreign. There, standing before her, was the princess of Ithaca.
“Daughter…” Penelope breathed out. Her daughter. It felt unreal, like an illusion.
Telemache looked around the blood-drenched room. She, too, had blood on her hands now, though nowhere near as much as her mother. They exchanged silent gazes, faces softening with gentle, unsure smiles. She approached Penelope slowly and swallowed nervously.
“All my life, I’d have died to meet you. Thought about your name so much it hurts,” Telemache spoke. Her voice shook slightly and she couldn’t tell if it was emotion or nervousness. “For 20 years, I’ve dreamed of how I’d greet you, and now you’re here.” Her voice caught on something in her throat and she managed a smile that threatened to be overcome with tears. “I can’t find the words,” she whispered.
Penelope’s breathing quickened. Hearing her daughter’s voice break had broken a layer of the wall she had built around her heart. Just seeing Telemache stand before her—it was like her heart had started again.
“All my life, I’d have died to know you.” Telemache’s voice grew strong again. She recalled all the stories her father had told her about her mother. “Days and nights I wished that I could show you.” There were so many. Countless days. “For 20 years, I never could outgrow you, but now you’re here.”
Telemache’s eyes met Penelope’s. They were the same brown as hers. Penelope saw so much of herself in there, so much of Odysseus. And among all of that, she saw a unique human being.
“I can’t help but wonder what your world must be, if we’re like each other, if I have your strength in me.” Her eyes carried a hidden sadness in them, a tinge of desperation. “All this time I’ve wondered,” Telemache went on, “if you’d embrace me as your own. 20 years I’ve wondered, for so long I’ve felt alone.”
Penelope took both of Telemache’s hands into her own. They were soft, unlike her own. They did not carry the blood of hundreds on them.
“Oh, sweet girl, look how much you’ve grown. Oh, my child, sweetest joy I’ve known. 20 years ago, I held you in my arms, how time has flown…” Penelope absorbed the young woman in front of her. A bittersweet image stood before her. Telemache was a woman, one she would no doubt be proud of, for she could feel the maternal pride swelling within her heart. But she had missed all of her childhood.
She squeezed Telemache’s hands to steel both herself and her daughter. “I used to say I’d make the storm clouds cry for you,” Penelope said. She had. She had made Amphitrite cry for mercy just to get home. “I used to say I’d capture wind and sky for you.” She had done that 10 years ago, though she couldn’t say it ended well. “I held you in my arms, prepared to die for you—” She felt tears starting to well up in her eyes, too. “…How time has flown.”
Telemache pulled her hand away to wipe a tear that fell down her face. The torn away hand caused panic in Penelope until she felt a gentle thumb on her cheek. Pride had not been so present, so strong, throughout all of her life. Until now.
“I can only wonder what your world has been, things you’ve had to suffer, and the strength you hold within.” She looked around again at the mangled corpses of the suitresses. How awful that must’ve been to endure… “All I’ve ever wanted was to reunite with my own. 20 years, we’ve wandered, but today you’re not alone. My daughter, I’m finally home!”
At this, Telemache leaped into her mother’s arms. She cried without shame, and so did Penelope. “Mother, how I’ve longed to see you!” she sobbed.
Penelope’s embrace tightened. She felt tears beginning to soak through her cloak. “Telemache, I’m home!” she proclaimed.
“Home,” she heard Telemache repeat softly. There were oceans in her daughter’s eyes, oceans of repressed emotions: longing, sorrow, happiness.
Penelope felt the world slowly grow distant. She recognized this feeling immediately, like her own existence was flickering in and out of the world, though she had not experienced it in a decade.
“Go. Tell your father I’m home. I’ll be there in a moment,” she advised. She didn’t want the moment to end, but a new one was forcing its way in.
Telemache nodded. “Of course,” she obliged.
The walls of the palace began to disappear and were replaced with a crimson sky with stars that dotted the endless void. Penelope was no longer standing on the bloodied palace floors, but on the top of an hourglass. “Show yourself,” she demanded cautiously. She looked around. “I know you’re watching me, show yourself.”
Then, she spotted him. Sitting on the edge of the hour glass, body turned away, was Ares. The sight brought to the front of her mind the unpleasant memory of when she stood on the edge of the cliff of Ogygia. She shook the thought away and focused on the god. He didn’t look as ruthless as he once had been.
“You were never one for hellos,” Penelope mused. She refused to let much warmth or affection tint her tone.
Ares began to speak, but he kept his back turned to her. “I can’t help but wonder what this world could be if we all held each other with a bit more empathy…”
What?
“I can’t help but feel like I led you astray. What if there’s a world where we don’t have to live this way?”
Penelope processed her former mentor’s words silently. It was certainly not what she had expected from him, the god who represented the bloodshed of war. Her shoulders dropped as she exhaled.
“If that world exists…it’s far away from here. It’s one I’ll have to miss, for it’s far beyond my years,” Penelope bitterly surmised. The tunnel still seemed so dark, the light still so far away. She didn’t know how Ares could even wonder of a brighter world. But she guessed that this thought had been in his head for a while now.“You might live forever, so you can make it be. But I’ve got one endeavor. There’s someone I have to see.”
Silence passed between the two.
“Very well…” Ares replied. His voice was as deep as ever, but it had lost its harshness. He just sounded bittersweet, and it was a tone and feeling Penelope was used to now. Finally, he glanced at the woman he had mentored. She looked different. He couldn’t see the fire in her eyes he had ignited in her when she was young, as it had long since sizzled out.
Penelope’s eyes immediately fixated on Ares’ appearance. The entire right half of his helmet was destroyed and it revealed a massive scar on his face, pulsating and glowing. The resentment she still held towards him melted away. She had never seen his face before, not even a part of it.
His presence began to fade. The maroon sky returned to the palace ceilings, the ground beneath her back to its gory state. She mulled over his words until Telemache returned.
“Mother,” she said, “he’s waiting for you.”
#epic the musical#penelope#warrior!penelope#swap au#telemachus#ares#epic the ithaca saga#jorge rivera herrans#greek mythology
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Can you make one of how the squid game boys would react if you died in their arms??? 😭🙏
I like it! I hope you like it🤎
Reaction to your death
Fem reader! x squid game men
Warning: Some angst, blood, death and drama.
Note: Orders are closed until further notice! Thank you for your support and I will continue to respond to each and every one of them!
Seong Gi-hun
You promised not to leave him alone after the traumatizing experience he lived in those games, nobody believed him except you.
And just as you promised him you wouldn't leave his side, you went to the games with him even when he flatly asked you not to.
"I'll be with you through thick and thin"
For Gi-hun, your company was a ray of hope in the midst of this environment full of death, you made him laugh when no one was looking and you filled him with loving words every time he felt frustrated for not being able his objective.
But as the sunlight fades with the storm, him happiness is short-lived.
The ammunition for their weapons had run out and they had no choice but to surrender as the front man walked towards them.
—456, ¿did you have fun playing hero?
Him body tensed as the man pointed the gun.
He was not afraid of dying, he had already seen so many things that stopping breathing would be a relief to his tortured soul.
But when the front man pulled his gun away from him to point it at you, he felt like the air was leaving his lungs.
—Now you will suffer the consequences of your actions.
He could see the fear in your face and the tears in your eyes, even when you turned to look at him just to say a soft "I love you" he felt helpless not being able to do anything and in a matter of seconds the bullet went through the head of the woman he loved.
A scream full of terror, anguish and sadness left her mouth, tears clouded his vision and went to your body to hug it one last time.
There was failure, not only because he was nowhere close to stopping these games, but also because he had lost all his friends and now you.
Hwang In-ho
He met you a couple of years ago after the death of his wife, you comforted him and dried every tear he shed.
Even when he disappeared for a few months and came back only to ask you to come with him without question you accepted without an ounce of fear or doubt.
You trusted him with your life and over time he trusted you with his, you became his right hand in these games, both of you led and maintained a specific order.
Until one day he came up with the idea that he would also participate just to keep his enemy, Gi-hun, under constant observation, "They say you have to know your enemies" he said confidently while dressing in the characteristic mint green uniform.
You weren't sure but you agreed to be the temporary leader under the square mask in the black suit just to make sure he would be okay.
You looked after him back so much that you neglected your own.
And when you least expected it you were shot by player 390 during a crossfire in the hallways.
In-ho didn't consider that Gi-hun and the players' rebellion would go this far, he kept pretending to be Young-il along with two other players but when he heard you gasp in pain after hearing a gunshot, his lie became secondary.
He killed the other two, faked his own death, and ordered Gi-hun and his team to be arrested, then headed straight to where you were, bleeding and dying.
—You're going to be okay... —He tried to convince himself more of his words, the bullet wound in your stomach looked like a fountain of your own blood.
Your hand on him cheek made him look up into your eyes,
You could see his teary eyes and his scared expression.
—Don't let these games end... No one who loves you wants to see you involved in this... —You wanted to go live in the countryside with In-ho, live in a cabin and have a family, you stayed only because he asked you to.
—Don't close your eyes —he begged firmly, holding back his tears—Don't you dare close your eyes.
It seemed like a demand, but it was a desperate plea not to let you die.
—Don't make me go through this pain again...
But you weren't breathing anymore, he sobbed a few more seconds with you before one of his guards took him to his grey suit and mask.
He was really enjoying pulling the trigger of the gun while aiming at Jung-bae.
Kang Dae-ho
You and Dae-ho met while serving your country and have been inseparable ever since.
Dae-ho had romantic feelings for you but he never told you for fear of ruining the friendship, he didn't know that your heart also jumped with joy every time he was around.
You did what you could to help him financially, you asked for so much money that before you knew it you were being threatened by people should never have gotten involved with because you owed too much.
Now, they were both in these games trying to survive.
—¿Can I tell you something? —He asked as they climbed the colorful stairs toward their next test.
—Yes.
Dae-ho wanted to tell you many things, among them that he loved you and that when they left here they should buy a nice house and two cats.
But his tongue got stuck in his throat.
—Better later.
You nodded with a soft smile.
Unfortunately you never got to hear him question, during the third game, Mingle, the last round consisted of making pairs and getting a cubicle, it was just a mistake in which he let go of your hand and another participant went into the small room with him.
Dae-ho screamed desperately trying to open the door even though the counter was already at zero, you could see him tears and his expression of terror when he saw you on the other side of the door.
—It's okay.... it's okay...
You comforted him even though you were scared, you tried to use your voice to calm him even though you were the one who was going to die, you did it like the other times he had panic attacks.
—Dae-ho, I lo-
A muffled scream and cry came from him as one of the guards shot you and you fell dead in front of his eyes.
He couldn't hug you, he couldn't tell you everything he felt and that made his world go into shock, his heart break into a thousand pieces and a part of him die with you.
Lee Myung-gi
You were an arms smuggler in debt to many people, you ran away and hid to survive when you met him and since then became inseparable.
The two were brought to these games promising that they would come out alive, pay their debts and go far away from here to have a new life.
You survived all the games, but when the players became more tense and started a fight with the guards, you thought you could help them, you had knowledge in weapons handling so you would be of great help.
—Whoever wants to come with us can do so —said 456, placing the weapons they had taken from the guards in front of the room.
You were about to take a step forward but Myung-gi, who was standing next to you, took your hand and looked at with almost pleading eyes.
He hoped you wouldn't go, it was going to be suicide, he sensed it, but you broke free from his grip and went with them.
When you heard him call you, you turned to look at him one last time.
—Everything will be okay, I'll come back and we'll finish this —You assured him with your usual confident smile.
When you disappeared through that door with the other players he felt a pressure on his heart.
A lump formed in him throat with each passing minute until after an hour the guards came to restore order and brought back player 456, the one who had started everything, alone.
He couldn't say a word when heard your number among the others eliminated, he just put his hands on his head and began to shed tears non-stop.
All him future plans with you fell apart in the blink of an eye, he lost you and the worst thing was that he was not by your side to help you or protect you, they promised that they would be there through thick and thin but he left you alone.
You would have managed to kill all those soldiers, you would have reached the control booth and ended it all to go back for Myung-gi, take the money and leave forever but your only mistake was turning back on 001.
Park Gyeong-seok
This was before he got into the games, you were his wife and while you were looking for money on the streets painting yourself as a mime and doing tricks, one night you were late to return home.
You took the subway and sat down in a spot, you were tired and hungry but proud that you had made enough money to eat well for two days, your daughter was going through a hard time now so you and your husband were practically fighting to survive.
You were calmly until you heard noises a few seats behind you, when you turned head to see a man assaulting an elderly woman, you were not going to stand by and do nothing.
[...]
Gyeong-seok had just put Na-yeon to sleep in her room, closed the door, and when he heard the front door open, he assumed it was you who had arrived.
—She just fell asleep, she wanted to wait for you but sleep overcame her —He said with a soft smile, your daughter was everything to you.
He walked towards the living room but when he saw you, his smile completely disappeared and his face turned pale.
—Honey...
You fell to the ground with your hand holding in the bloody stomach, when you tried to confront the assailant he stabbed you and you had to return home leaving a trail of your dripping blood.
He ran to you to hold you in his arms, he tried not to make too much noise so as not to wake Na-yeon and traumatize her.
—¿What happened? I'll take you to the hospital, don't worry, everything will be okay.
Gyeong-seok's expression was full of anguish and panic, you put your hand on his cheek and looked at him sadly.
You knew that taking you to the hospital would generate more expenses, the little money they had was for their daughter, she was your priority, besides, you knew it was already too late.
—You'll take care of her ¿right? Tell her I love her.
He began to cry and hug you against his chest, he also knew that taking you to the hospital would be in vain but he refused to let you go.
—I don't want to do this alone...
You apologized through tears, you didn't want to leave him either but life was slipping through your fingers.
—I love you so much...
And with those last words you took your last breath.
He cried non-stop with you still in his arms, rocking gently and leaving kisses on your head also saying how much he loved you, from that moment on he was left alone with Na-yeon, working overtime, without your help life became more difficult but without your company it was torture.
Hwang Jun-ho
You two had been married for two years, you were happy and carefree, or at least that's what you thought.
One day you discovered things about him that he hadn't told you, that he had a lost brother and that he had been looking for him for years.
You didn't judge him, you decided to help him in his search and that led them to infiltrate some twisted games where they made people play until they died for money.
The two of you kept a low profile as guards until one of the so-called "VIPs" wearing gold masks took an interest in you, it made your blood run cold but you couldn't raise suspicions or would die so you didn't protest when he asked to accompany him to a private place.
You let that man guide you, you knew that Jun-ho would soon come for you but couldn't help but feel your stomach turn with every step you took.
Before entering the exotic room you left one of your earrings outside so your husband would know where you were.
Just when this stranger was about to force you to give him a blowjob, you punched him and pointed the gun at him.
You had the upper hand until you heard the door open behind you and looked away from the man.
It was Jun-ho but that little carelessness made the man with the golden mask snatch the gun from you and shoot you in the chest.
The shot made time stop for Jun-ho, he saw you fall to the ground with a lost look and blood pouring from your body, he also managed to stop the man but his eyes were still on you.
—They're okay, okay, calm down, don't shoot me —The man stammered as Jun-ho made him kneel without removing the gun from him head.
—You just killed my wife... —He said with a stern, sad and upset expression on his face.
You wanted to kill him but he wasn't a murderer and you wouldn't want him to be one.
After getting all the information possible out of him about these games, he knocked him out and finally turned to look at you.
He brought a hand to his mouth to suppress a cry of pain, his eyes were watery and with his other hand he held the gun tightly, he couldn't protect you and that made him feel miserable.
He approached you and left a kiss on your forehead, closed your eyes and asked for forgiveness a thousand times for having to leave you there.
Even with a broken heart, he turned away from you and ran away.
N/A: I apologize for not writing anything about Thanos but I couldn't find any inspiration for him 😭
#hwang inho x reader#in ho x reader#squid game#squid game x reader#squid game fic#young-il x reader#jun ho x reader#Gi-hun x reader#dae ho x reader#in ho squidgame#hwang in ho#frontamn x reader#lee byung hun#Myung-gi x reader#Gyeong-seok x reader#myung gi#gyeong-seok#squidgame x you
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Untitled Batfam/Squid Game cross over fan fic
Summary: a sad fan fic where the batfam are in a squid games-esc game playing dodgeball and it comes down to Jason and Tim as the last players on each side but Tim is too scared to say anything so it’s up to Jason to decide whether his team lives or dies and I gave the surviving Robin crippling survivors guilt as they refuse to open their eyes and witness their brother dead on the floor.
Background info: This is chapter 3 of a WIP a few people asked me to post. Basically Bat fam in a squid games situation were forced to split up into two to play dodgeball. They didn’t get to choose the teams and they get one minute to strategize before the game started. The transparent wall kills anyone who crosses it. All of which is explained in chapter one that I haven’t written yet lol. Not important but the teams are Alfred, Tim, Stephanie, Damian, Roxy Rocket, Harley Quinn, Deathstroke, Penguin, and Two Face. The others are Bruce, Selina, Jason, Tiffany, Lucius, Kate, Riddler, Killer Croc, and Scarecrow. If there are any grammar mistakes, just know I’m illiterate. Enjoy!
Ever since they broke off into teams, Alfred had not taken his eyes off Bruce. And while Bruce had done an excellent job at hiding his grief for Dick and Luke, Alfred knew better. Bruce may have been putting on a Batman exterior, but his eyes held the same look as the recently orphaned eight year old latching onto his petticoat, unsure of how to answer Officer Gordon’s questions about his parents’ murder.
Unsure.
Seeing his younger master unsure was what terrified him the most. If it wasn’t for the transparent wall having split the court, Alfred would have been over with his adopted son helping him plan, but instead he was standing with his grandkids attempting to figure out what to do while those that terrorized their nightmares were trying to convince them to win instead of throwing the game.
“Oh please! Like they aren’t over there talking the same shit!” Penguin squawked. “They’re going to kill us all the second they get and be thrilled we’re dead!”
Stephanie clinched her hands, “we need to delay the game! As long as possible at least!”
Roxy laughed, “I’m with this one. Make it exciting!”
“Don’t be stupid,” Deathstroke snapped.
“Aw come on, Willy,” Harley pouted. “Don’t be mean. The poor girl just wants her fake family to rescue them! There’s no chance they will in time, but these hero types always have a hope in them that’s hard to shake.”
“Quinn,” Damian ordered, “please stop talking. We have less than a minute to plan.”
“Planning our own deaths,” Mad Hatter shot. “You hero types never pass up an opportunity to sacrifice yourselves for the greater good. No, we gotta throw all of them in the front lines and make sure they get out fast.”
“You want to throw the three most physically fit members of our team under the bus?” Deathstroke pointed out sarcastically. “Great idea.”
“Fuck you!” Stephanie snapped, raising a fist. “You had no problem pushing Dick down! If it wasn’t for you, he’d be alive!”
Deathstroke rolled his eye. “I told you, I slipped.”
Stephanie threw the first punch which lead to a loud argument of people holding each other back, screaming over each other, and otherwise preforming a mockery of teamwork. Alfred almost joined the fray before turning and noticing Tim was not in the circle. He was standing close to the barrier and staring ahead at the other team.
Alfred approached him, wincing from his now relocated shoulder. “Master Drake, is everything okay?”
Tim shook his head vaguely. “We’re going to die. All of us here. We’re all going to die.”
Alfred’s heart sunk into his stomach, but he kept a gentle expression. “Why do you say that?”
Tim gestured to Bruce in their much more cooperative group huddle. “Batman doesn’t know what to do. I’ve been watching him, Alfred. He hasn’t said a word in their meeting. He also hasn’t let any of us move far away from him. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. He’s trying to spend what little time he has left with us. I’ve seen him be less protective when Darksied nearly wiped all of humanity, but… he’s completely given up now.”
The lump in Alfred’s throat grew bigger. He placed his good hand on his shoulder and felt Tim shaking under his palm. “That doesn’t mean there’s no hope, Master Timothy.”
Tim shook his head. “Alfred, don’t try to pretend. We both know we’re not making it out of this school alive.”
Alfred didn’t know what to say as he secretly agreed. Fortunately, the whistle blew so he never had to come up with the words. “Planning period over. The game is about to begin. I repeat. Planning period over. The game is about to begin.”
Everyone got into a vague position to start. All of the inmates were at the front with the bat family further away from the center. Five balls dropped from the ceiling as a new ten minute timer started ticking down. The villains all ran for the balls and started throwing. Alfred and Lucius were not nearly young or healthy enough, and unsurprisingly were benched quickly. All the vigilantes were moving on instinct and muscle memory rather than a desire to live. Each time a ball got caught, someone else was called back in, but that was the only time the bat family spoke. Other than that, they were dodging as best as they could. The only two who were having any resemblance of fun was Harley Quinn and Roxy Rocket who couldn’t help but taunt and jeer at every person who got out. Once both were knocked out by a well aimed throw from Kate, the court was silent because of rule #3. It was obvious those on the bench wanted to say something, but none of them were willing to be shot just to make fun of someone being hit.
Reguardless of where they stood morally, both teams were all were nervous to be playing. All kept subconsciously glancing to Batman every few seconds for a way to get out of the situation entirely. Unfortunately, Batman was not playing the game. No matter how hard he tried, Bruce was the one on the court. Bruce found it impossible to ignore their glances at him for answers.
Similar to red light/green light, after each person was eliminated a whistle blew from no where and their name was called, except this time it wasn’t followed by a gunshot. That didn’t mean Bruce’s heart rate didn’t go up with each blow of the whistle. He kept seeing Dick’s face blown apart by a sniper rifle at too close range, hearing Luke’s chest ripped open by the same gun and Tiffany screaming in fear. Even Clayface and Bane perishing in an equally hideous display crossed his mind. He didn’t want anyone else to die, not even the Arkham inmates. It was senseless violence. All of it. Even then, as Two Face hurled a ball at Riddler’s bad leg with the intention of hurting him more, there wasn’t a reason for it.
Bruce kept trying to rationalize the scene. He was playing dodgeball in an elementary school with his family and enemies. That was the extent he could go. When he managed to get a ball in his hands, all he could think to do was roll it on the ground so no one got out. It was completely pointless. If that timer hit 0 everyone would be dead. Someone was going to have to decide who lives.
Bruce only became aware of his movements when he allowed himself to be hit by a disbelieving Tim who stood alone on the opposite side. Bruce didn't say anything and selfishly walked back to the stands. The ball that bounced off Bruce had rolled back to Tim’s side of the court, hitting his shoe.
“I-I thought he was gonna catch it,” Tim stuttered to the sole member of the other team.
Jason laughed humorlessly. “Bats not sacrificing himself for the greater good? You’re kidding yourself.”
Tim unsteadily picked up the ball at his feet, an unwilling passenger in his own body. He held the ball in his hand shaking violently but felt as though it was ten feet away. He could hear the countdown on the timer. He only had 42 seconds left on the clock. It wasn’t enough time. Less than a minute for half of his family to live. But which half? How does he choose? How could he? He was a teenager, a kid really. One side had more people, more members of his family. But he couldn’t let Damian, Alfred, or Steph die. But if he did let himself live with the others, the rogues had already declared their promise to kill them the moment Batman was dead. The inmates had a numbers advantage on them. They could easily overpower an elderly injured man and three kids who wouldn’t be able to defend themselves without Batman’s help. Tim felt everyone staring at him wanting to shout out their opinions and what he should do. He almost wished they could as it might have blocked out the sound of his beating heart.
“Jay… I can’t do this,” Tim whimpered, shaking where he stood.
Jason searched his mind for a sarcastic comment to shoot back at his brother to make him laugh, but he couldn’t come up with anything. “Tim… man, it’s gonna be alright,” Jason consoled.
“I… I can’t do it. I can’t. We’re all gonna die and it’s gonna be my fault but I can’t choose…”
“Don’t then,” Jason blurted out trying to give him some solace. “Throw it easy. I’ll either catch it or not. It won’t be your fault then, just mine.”
Tim shook his head, “no. We…. Jay it makes more sense for your side to live. Sacrificing yourself I get, but… the only way you have any chance to get out is Bruce and Lucius. We’re just kids over here, and they’re gonna kill us the second Bruce die-“ he stopped himself from finishing his sentence, having to take a deep breath to keep himself from completely breaking down. “But… I don’t want Damian to not grow up. I don’t want Steph to not see Cass again, I don’t want… I don’t want to-“ It was all he could say before sobbing.
“Tim,” Jason’s voice cracked. “There’s not enough time left…” Jason didn’t even realize he was talking, his lips moved without thinking. “E-either way one of us is dead. You don’t even have to choose anything! All of the balls are in your…are in your court, so no matter what… it’s me who has to decide…”
The gravity of it caught up to Jason in that moment. It really was up to him no matter what. Tim could throw whatever he wanted, but he had to either fight for his life or die for his brothers’. Tim was right. Unfortunately, there were more rational adults with more skills on his side. If there was any chance of getting out before the games ended it was with Lucius and Tiffany’s tech skills to override the locks, Selina’s stealth to steal a weapon, Kate’s martial arts skill, and Bruce’s planning. But that would mean…
Jason looked up and saw Steph smiling comfortingly and tears streaming down her face, Alfred standing dignified with Damian uncharacteristically vulnerable leaning up against his leg, refusing to look at the court. Tim was hugging the ball to his chest tightly, the only thing he could do at the moment, trying his best to keep from crying.
The clock was ticking down, now at ten seconds. Jason had to make up his mind quickly. He found Bruce’s eyes and quietly asked what to do. Bruce looked away and down at his hand in his lap clutching onto his wife’s. A small gesture that told Jason what he would do if the roles were reversed.
Jason turned to Tim and gave him a single nod. He had made his decision. Tim threw the ball up in the air and time seemed to freeze. All eyes were on the second Robin, watching his every moment. They saw his feet move to become more center with the ball, directly in its path.
There was the sound of the ball making impact. Jason closed his eyes and waited, the familiar feeling creeping up in him that death was about to come. Jason hated that the last image Tim would ever have of him would be of him shaking and terrified, but no matter what he did he could not manage to muster up a smile onto his face.
“It’s gonna be okay-“
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
BANG
No final words were granted. No goodbyes were given. One by one, the sound of bodies dropping to the floor echoed in the tiny gym. The former Robin’s eyes had shut tight with the first gun shot, not wanting to see his brother mutilated before him. He could feel his brother’s brain matter coating his hands and the blood soaking into his shirt but as long as his eyes were shut, everything was fine. As long as his eyes were closed his family was alive. As long as he didn’t look, almost all of his siblings were still standing.
He didn’t cry as he stood there. He couldn’t if he tried as his grip of reality started to pull away from him. This was his nightmare, his absolute nightmare. The former Robin couldn’t think of a worse scenario for him to be in. It was just up to him and his brother to choose the fates of his family. There was no way this was happening. Kidnapping almost his whole family to play children’s games to the death?! That’s completely insane. It may have been Gotham but-
Scarecrow.
It had to of been. He had to be under the influence of fear toxin. There’s no other way. It was the only thing that made any sense. It was all of his worst fears wrapped up into one. A high dose of fear toxin.
“This isn’t real,” he said out loud. “This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.” He repeated this over and over and over again, each time somehow shutting his eyes tighter and tighter, refusing to open them. He knew this couldn’t have been true, the timeline of events was too coherent to be a hallucination, but he could manifest it into being fake if he tried hard enough. He could make it true. He could make it so his brothers were alive. If he just repeated this, it would-
“It’s going to be alright,” a man’s voice said, clasping a firm hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be alright.”
Jason snapped out of his trance to see the rubber ball still in his hands. There was the clear sign of skull and brain coating the outside of it, the last remainder he had of Tim. The transparent do-not-cross wall was already dividing the court, but Jason could not bring himself to look through it and instead stared down at the ball in his hand.
“I-I caught it…” Jason stated, holding it up to Bruce beside him. “I caught it.”
Bruce nodded, jaw tensed, swallowing a lump in his throat. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
Jason looked right through Bruce. “I caught it…” he breathed out and lowered his arms. “I caught it…”
Bruce didn’t say anything, but instead wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him in tight. Jason did not hug him back. He didn’t seem to have noticed at all that he had moved. The ball in his hands was the only thing grounding him to reality as it was a fact that he caught the ball. He saved Bruce, Selena, Tiffany, Kate, and Lucius.
He caught the ball.
“I caught it,” Jason was still repeating over and over as Bruce gripped him tighter. “I caught it.”
“Thank God you did!” Ed Nigma scoffed, limping down the stands. “I was worried you were about to do something stupid.”
Jason didn’t hear him. His chin was resting on his adopted dad’s shoulder. The ball was pressing in under Bruce’s ribcage but similar to the last living Robin, he didn’t notice anything other than Jason’s grip on this world slipping away as he kept stating how he saved his life. Bruce was already numb from the moment he turned around and saw his oldest son had been shot in the head. His daughter, father, and other two sons shared the same fate.
Jason still hadn’t cried nor stopped repeating himself. It might have been better if he did either. Bruce didn’t know what to do or how best to comfort him. It was Bruce’s fault he was like this. Bruce purposefully tagged himself out, not so Tim would have a chance, but so he didn’t have to make the final decision.
“I… I caught the ball,” Jason finally differed slightly from his script. “I caught the ball.”
“It’s going to be okay, Jason,” Bruce comforted. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Bruce wished his voice wasn’t so monotone. It might have helped if he has some emotion, angry or sad, or anything. But Bruce pushed down all of his pain, all of his feelings. He didn’t allow himself to grieve, not yet. Not only was it unproductive, but he knew once he started crying he would never be able to stop. He had to focus on what he had, and all he had was four people outside this game presumably trying to break them out, a wife who he loved deeply, his one living cousin, one of his oldest friends and his loyal daughter, and one surviving son right in front of him who was unable to cope with the decision he made and would haunt him forever.
“You did nothing wrong,” Bruce repeated. “It’s going to be okay. You did nothing wrong.”
Bruce didn’t know how long they stood there repeating themselves over and over, each one not interrupting the other.
Eventually, a gentle hand was placed on Bruce’s back. “Sweetheart,” Selina consoled, “we should probably go before they kick us out.”
Bruce did not make a conscious effort to let go of Jason, but he found himself walking towards the gym door all the same, one arm wrapped around his son to guide him.
Jason was still clutching the rubber ball in his hand when the voice announcement came on overhead. “No taking game items outside of the playing field. I repeat. No taking game items outside the playing field.”
Selina unwrapped herself from Bruce’s side, stopping Bruce from taking a step out the door. “Jason,” Selina cautioned gently.
Jason looked through her and held up the rubber ball just like he did minutes earlier to Bruce. “I caught it.”
Selina smiled as warmly as she could. “I know. I know you did. We have to leave it behind now. Is that alright?”
Jason’s eyes went to the ball where a fragment of Tim’s skull was practically glued to it with now dried blood. “I…caught the ball…”
Selina reached out carefully and placed her hands as best as she could so she didn’t touch any gore on it. “I’m going to take this from you. Can I do that?”
Jason watched his own hands unwrap themselves from the ball and have it settle in Selina’s hands.
“Thank you, Jason,” Selina thanked before going back to the stands and gently placing it down on the bleachers so it didn’t make a sound.
“Y-yeah…” Jason mumbled, still holding his hands out as though nothing had been taken from him.
Bruce rubbed Jason’s arm for comfort and continued walking down the hallway once Selina was next to him again. The only sound down the hallway was Jason’s mutters of catching a ball getting quieter and quieter.
“B-B-Bruce?” Jason asked as they neared the corridor to the kindergarten classroom.
“Yes?” Bruce responded.
“I…I think I’m done,” Jason admitted. “Yeah, I don’t want to play any more games. I’m gonna… I just want to go home.”
Bruce stopped in the hallway and turned to be in front of him with Selina stopping a step behind Bruce. Bruce suddenly did not see a 19 year old Jason Todd standing in front of him, but rather the 12 year old Boy Wonder who just wanted to do good in the world. He didn’t know what else to do other than kneeling down to his knee and grabbing Jason’s arms. Bruce couldn’t think of what to say, but somehow the words came out of him. “You made a hard choice back there, Jay. No one would deny that. There was no right or wrong decision, only one that-.”
“They probably felt how I did…” Jason muttered.
Bruce felt his heart shatter as Jason’s eyes finally focused on him. “I…I made them watch the clock tick down to their deaths. They didn’t deserve that.” Bruce froze, finally understanding what Jason had been trying to tell him. He watched as Jason’s eyes shifted away from reality once more and stared off into the abyss. “I caught the ball…” Jason began repeating again.
The first tear fell out of Bruce’s eyes without him knowing. They were silently streaming down his face, knowing for a fact that this was his fault. He left the decision up to Jason. This was Bruce’s doing. And he would have to live with that for the rest of his life.
#batfamily#batfam#fan fiction writer#fan fiction#red hood#Jason Todd#bruce wayne#batman#tim drake#dc fanfic#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#I made 3 friends cry with this but I lowkey think they’re lying to make me feel better#I have no regrets writing this#imo the only other chapter I have written is sadder than this but…#I have no idea how to format on this app so sorry
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Can I have a reverse isekai ask involving Kyojuro, Giyu, and Sanemi please? Basically Giyu and Sanemi would be teleported to the modern world after the end of the series (for Kyojuro, it would be the end of mugen train). How would the reader (who’s in college) react if she saw them appear in her dorm/apartment? It can be three different scenarios or the same one, whichever you’d like. Sorry if this seems a bit self indulgent but thank you for doing these asks since there’s hardly any reverse isekai for demon slayer out there.
"R- Rengoku?" Sanemi and Giyu couldn't believe their eyes. It was the Flamer Hashira standing there in front of them, well and... Alive?
The last time they heard of him was when the crows had let them know about their fellow Hashira's demise against a Demon, but here he was, standing in front of them, alive and well.
"Hm? Why, if it isn't Tomioka and Shinazugawa!" Kyojuro nodded with that wide smile of his, "You look like you saw a ghost!"
"That's..." They were speechless. If Kyojuro was here then... Were they dead?
"Excuse me...?" Came a small voice and the three men turned to see you staring at them, with what appeared to be shopping bags fallen next to your feet.
"Who are you guys and how the fuck you got in my home!?"
The three men blinked, stunned, and quickly bowed their heads to you.
"Please excuse us!" The three of them shouted and then looked at you, "But could you perhaps tell us where we are?"
You told them and they looked at each other in confusion.
"Hm! I can't recall a place with this name," Kyojuro thought out loud and Sanemi frowned, "Rengoku... What is your last memory?"
"Mine? Well, I was against a strong Demon and-!" The man fell quiet as his eyes widened in realization, "And I died...?"
"That's... What happened, yes," Giyu nodded and the three men all frowned.
Meanwhile, you were tempted to call the police, but you could tell that these men fit scarily well into this Genre you enjoyed a lot.
"Are you guys perhaps...?" You frowned, "From another world?"
"No!" Sanemi snapped, "We're from Japan!"
"Uh hu..." You nodded. You spoke Japan, but not that well that you could hold a long conversation like the ones they were having.
"And what's this talk about Demons?"
"They aren't your concern..." Giyu shook his head, "If you can show us the way out and the closest way to Butterfly Mansion, we will leave you be..."
"Yeah, I don't know..." You shook your head, "I think you guys might be far away from home...?"
"What do you mean, young lady?" Kyojuro asked and you sighed as you grabbed your bags and dragged them to the kitchen, "Sit down on the couches and I'll make us some tea."
The men did as you told them to and as you served them some tea, you told them about the concept of isekai...
And they didn't really believe you at first, but you walked to the window and opened the curtains so they got a good look at the modern world.
"Shit...!" Sanemi cursed as he looked out to see the modern cars and people wearing totally different clothes, "We... We really aren't in Japan anymore?"
"Or in your timeline," You nodded as you told them that it was already the year 20XX.
"It looks like we all got transported here after we died..." Giyu thought out loud and you nodded, "It's a pretty basic isekai move, but it looks like you got reverse isekai'd to my world from yours."
"What makes it reverse?" Kyojuro asked and you were about to explain when you realized that this world of yours was pretty new to them, "Never mind."
"What the Hell are we going to do!?" Sanemi snapped, looking around your apartment like he was a tiger in a small cage. You frowned as you thought your options and you came to conclusion that there weren't many of those.
"You guys could stay here?" You asked and they all turned to look at you and you blushed lightly, "I mean, at least until you guys decide what you want to do?"
"That is a generous offer, young lady!" Kyojuro nodded, "But we can't burden you with our presence-!"
"It's okay!" You said louder than you intended, "I mean... My parents are pretty loaded so they got me this huge apartment with extra rooms so they could visit me but they never do...?"
"Are you certain you want us to stay?" Giyu frowned, "We can't offer you anything?"
"Well..." There were some things they could do, "You could keep me company and keep the house up and running while I'm in college, or when I have homework or thesis to write?"
"We are Hashiras!" Sanemi snapped, "We hunt Demons! Not do housework!"
"Hm! That's a good point Shinazugawa, but it appears that we don't have use for our abilities here since there are no Demons!" Kyojuro smiled as he looked at you, "If you will have us, then we will do our best to pay our debt to you!"
"It's okay..." You blushed a little as you nervously played with your fingers, "It's... It's my pleasure to have you here."
"The pleasure and honor are all ours, young Lady," Giyu said as he bowed his head to you and you blushed harder.
"Ah, I got you tea but no cookies!" You yelped as you quickly went to get a packet from the kitchen, but as you returned you noticed that Kyojuro was looking serious.
"Now..." The Flame Hashira turned to look at the Wind and Water Hashiras, "What happened after I died?"
The two men shared glances and then proceeded to tell how they were able to defeat Demon King with someone called Tanjiro and... The smile on Kyojuro's face, it was something you had never seen before. A genuine pride and happiness.
"Ha ha, I knew young Kamado had what it took to defeat Muzan!" He laughed out loud, "I'm glad I died and not him!"
"D- Don't say that!" You snapped and the men turned to look at you and you blushed, "I'm sorry, but... While it's good that the Demon King was beaten... B- But I think that no matter what, there were people who missed you also dearly?"
There was a small silence and you panicked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-!"
"Hm!" Kyojuro nodded, "Don't apologize! You are right, young lady!"
"No one forgot you Rengoku," Sanemi said, "That boy Kamado even used your sword's hilt."
"He did?" The man's smile just grew, "That makes me happy!"
You smiled a little as you set the plate full of chocolate chip cookies on the coffee table between the couches and the men, "It sounds like this Kamado was a great young man?"
"He had potential, good friends, a sister, and a golden heart!" Kyojuro nodded happily as he reached for a cookie and you smiled gladly, but just as you were about to say something-!
"Tasty!" Kyojuro shouted suddenly and you nearly jumped out of your skin," Wh- What?"
"Please don't mind him," Giyu nodded as he reached for a cookie, "That's his habit."
"Oh, I see," You nodded, still a little confused but you smiled as your new roommates enjoyed the cookies.
"Shit, these are almost as good as Ohagi..." Sanemi muttered with his mouth half-full and Giyu smiled, "I never got to offer you that Ohagi I promised."
"I don't want your Ohagi!"
"You guys must be really good friends?" You smiled and the glare Sanemi shot you made you yelp, "We are not friends...!"
"We aren't?" Giyu looked shocked and you couldn't help but smile, "Only true friends bicker like that!"
"We aren't friends!"
"Young lady, if you don't mind, could you perhaps teach us how to live in this world?" Kyojuro asked and you nodded, "I'd be happy to!"
And so began Kyojuro's, Giyu's, and Sanemi's new lives with you and it was exciting to all four of you.
#anikpopfan#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#demon slayer isekai#isekai#reverse isekai#kyojuro rengoku#giyu tomioka#sanemi shinazugawa#reader#fem!Reader#female reader#reader insert#writing#my writing#ENJOY!
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Writing Prompt List
"You almost died and you're making jokes?" Norrix
-💖
Martin had thought that once Lando retired, that the danger was over.
They had had all these plans. Most of them involved Lando getting to eat whatever he wanted for the first time in years and not following a strict diet. Plans about Lando travelling to his shows, seeing the world through the eyes of the partner for once. They were going to travel, really travel, and take the time to see places instead of rushing through different cities and counteries because of their jobs.
And they had achieved some of that.
They had been happy and healthy. Life was good and settled. Both of them were in the best place mentally and physically, and Lando still had fun with streaming and Quadrant. He had work to keep him busy but nothing as demanding as Formula One had been.
Martin had thought his days of worrying, of saying a silent plea whenever the lights went out, were over.
Maybe that's why this had hit him so damn hard because he had never seen it coming.
No one could have predicted that Lando would survive the crash he did only to get hurt simply walking their dog.
It had been five days, and Martin still didn't believe it. He couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that someone had left Lando and lying on the side of the road with their dog, Winnie, barking for help until someone finally stopped to help him. It was cruel and horrific.
It brought Martint o tears every time he thought about it, but right now, he tried to push them back because Lando was awake for the first time in days. He had been unconcious since the hit-and-run, and Martin was just so happy to hear that he was awake.
The first thing he had done when he had gotten to the hospital was kiss his forehead and ask how Lando was feeling, planning to give him shit for scaring him but instead, Lando's answer caught him by surprise.
"I feel like I got hit by a car", Lando had smiled, face bruised and still a little swollen. Stitches extended into his hairline, and one of his front teeth was chipped but Martin couldn't do anything but stare him in disbelief with a little laugh.
"You almost died", Martin huffed a little laugh, voice and tears caught in his throat, "And you're making jokes"
Lando just reached out to grab his hand, squeezing it weakily with a smile.
"You looked sad, and I wanted to make you laugh"
"I fucking hate you", Martin replied back, mumbling through tears and laughter and overhwelmed by everything he had been holding in until now.
"No you don't", Lando whispered back, fingers gently tangling with his. Lando's were covered in little scratches and bruises. His right had in a cast, "You love me too much to hate me"
#norrix#lando/martin#martin/martin#prompts#tw for car accidents#tw for hit and run#no description of the hit and run#just the aftermath
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Watching the other cry in his arms, weeping for a man who was supposed to be dead, yet was alive and holding the Flame Alchemist, his best friend, the one he fell deeply for, it hurt to watch. All Maes could do was continue to console him, continue to rub his back as he held him close.
He knows that this was something hard to believe, that he was here and alive and not dead. His life was spared at a cost, Roy’s cost. He was being used to make sure Roy didn’t do anything about it.
They didn’t know that Roy would still be trying to stop them. They thought this would be enough considering what lengths Roy had went through to avenge his best friend.
Maes kept his arms around him letting him cry it out for however long he needed. Ten minutes.. or was it twenty? He wasn’t counting, but he was still in the same spot, rubbing his back, assuring him in soft murmurs that he was there and that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Finally when the other had calmed enough to finally speak to him, Maes listened and hung to every word learning that his feelings were definitely returned, but kept in the dark from it.
He could understand why Roy held back, even back then Maes didn’t realize his own feelings either and it would have only caused issues, but knowing how he feels now that they are both older and after everything that’s happened.
He could understand that Roy was scared to lose him, having thought he had died the first time around, but only got lucky that the homunculi missed and hit his side instead of his heart this time.
Hearing that Gracia and Elicia were both crying at the funeral that wasn’t supposed to happen broke his heart and he knew that they would always be sad and miss him, and of course he’d miss them too, he knew it was just too dangerous to come forward to them about still being here. Not to mention it would only just confuse them and upset them that this was hidden.
He leans his head against Roy’s and just holds him. He knows that Roy is still dealing with the grief of him dying so all he can do is be there for him and assure him. He sees the anger that he felt from when he lost him he sees all the grief that the man has to deal with in his dark eyes that stare back into his hazel ones.
“I know you’re afraid, Roy. I get it, but I’ll do whatever I can to stay alive. I know you’ll protect me, I’m right here. I’m with you. I’m not going anywhere.” He is going to do everything he can to stay alive for Roy’s sake. He has a chance to, so he won’t even try to fight against them unless he has to.
“There’s a lot that we don’t know, but I’m sure we will find out soon enough.” He squeezes him softly. “I want to stay by your side, always. I want to be with you and nobody else. I’ll make a promise to you to stay alive. I refuse to die after everything.” He couldn’t dare die after seeing what this man has said and done in front of him just now. “I love you so much, Roy.” He watches as the other hides his face once more. “I’m yours.”
He couldn’t get air into his lungs. He fell into the sea, and, as if he was always meant to drown, he couldn’t hope to get out.
Why, though? He thought he was safe this time. He was careful. The sun did not melt his wings like he previously thought. Nay, the wax remained intact.
Simple: he looked down, and he didn’t look back up. He wasn’t sure he could.
The fabric of Maes’ shirt was almost enough to silence Roy’s cries. Even though he wanted to, he did not completely smother his face into Maes’ shoulder. Idly, he wondered if perhaps that would stop him from nearly hyperventilating in front of the man he loved. If he could just breathe, and manage to get a few, rational words out, then everything would make sense. This? Bawling like an infant who only wanted to be held in a warm embrace? Ridiculous. Obscene. Deplorable.
This was not the man Maes said he loved. Fire incarnate, he was supposed to be a welcoming hearth for his man to sit next to on a cold day, a torch to light his way, or a wildfire that took down forests if left untamed. What Maes held in his arms were mere embers, soaked from the sea as he could not stop himself from weeping. Pathetic.
Five minutes passed, and he hardly slowed his pace. The tears couldn’t stop. He couldn’t move from his spot. His hands continued gripping Maes with all the strength he could muster while his body quaked.
Another five minutes passed. His breathing began to calm as his body stilled. Calloused hands relaxed their grip, but did not let go.
Several minutes, or close to an eternity, later, a quiet voice broke the silence.
“I loved you since we were at the academy,” Roy murmured as he spoke more to the floor, his head bowed, “I knew it then. When you said you joined the military to protect the woman you loved, I wanted to tell you that you already did. She was me.” Roy offered the floor a weak smile for a brief few seconds before his frown returned. “But, I couldn’t risk it. Not with our country as it is, and not with the anti-frat laws. I wasn’t about to damage your career like that. So, you got married and had a daughter while I kept up my reputation, and I worked on attaining the Presidency.”
The hands gripping Maes trembled. With a sharp inhale of air, his breathing stuttered. He just stopped crying. Starting again would be absurd. Everything was fine. Maes was alive and right in front of him. Couldn't he see that? Why did he keep quaking like this?
“But… then you died, Maes. When I was in East City.” Why did his voice break? He made this report before. He had to before he transferred. Moreover, Maes knew what happened. It happened to him. “I don't remember what happened after the phone call. The Lieutenant took me home, and I woke up there the next morning. I don't remember if I even changed that morning before I left for Central.” Roy forced himself to pause and breathe, his hands moving to his sides.
“I went to your funeral. I listened to Gracia and Elicia cry–she asked why they were burying you, and none of us could console her. I saw the phone booth. I listened as Major Armstrong said he couldn't tell me who killed you.” As he spoke, his hands clenched into fists. “And, after all of that, I promised I would find your killer and bring them to Hell myself. What I did to Lust is nothing compared to the funeral pyre I plan to make for the one who took you from me.”
At last, obsidian dared to look into hazel. Alive and on fire, the blaze in Roy moved with his quick breaths. The water on his face, an element said to make the Flame useless, glistened in the soft lighting of his living room. With one deep inhale, and then another, the fire began to calm. Several deep breaths later, a solemn voice, barely above a whisper, left the embers standing in front of Maes.
“I told a ghost I loved him. Without him, I was lost. How would I go anywhere without mi Estrella Polar? I said all this to an empty grave, not once thinking it was empty. That you were alive, Maes.” He tried to smile, but such an attempt was in vain. His lips quivered with the rest of him—as if he hadn’t fully dried from being underwater.
“I never stopped loving you. Not once, even when I told myself I should. And now… you're saying everything I dreamed of hearing. You want to be mine when I’ve wanted nothing more since we were cadets. But…” Again, his clenched hands trembled as his gaze moved to the floor. “How do I know you won’t be taken from me again? I couldn’t protect you before. If I go through with these plans–to overthrow the Homunculi and Senior Staff—what will stop them from taking you? I can’t–I can’t lose you again.”He bowed his head as tears cascaded down his cheeks, the sea claiming him once more. Perhaps water truly did make him useless.
#he's alive but at what cost || alive verse#flameleads#bond ; where you are is where i belong [ flameleads ]#funeral tw#murder tw#long post tw#grief tw#death tw
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still thinking about dnd last night because like. Emily the player knew that the sorcerer was dead, like dead dead, but Tabitha the character didn’t so of course she’s going to try heal him just to get him back conscious
and yeah he’s fine, the other players revivify spell worked and he’s alive, but now I’m thinking about how I’m character, Tabitha was the first one to him the instant after it happened and how she was the one holding him and realising he was dead and telling the others he was dead so the Druid knew to even come in the first place and knowing she couldn’t do anything and how that’s gonna be a little bit traumatizing for her going forward :)
#imagine finding a new group of people who are starting to feel like home#and then one of them dies in front of you and you have to hold his body for that brief moment he’s dead knowing you can’t do anything#:)#grem plays dnd#and the turn order went hag: kills him#me: attempted to heal him + told the others he was dead#Druid: revivify#so he wasn’t even dead for long#but it would have been an extremely horrifying moment for my girl <3
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I'm such a coward. tried to at least get deep enough as a preparation to slit my wrists but I couldn't even get to the second layer. and it's not even like i don't like to hit styro, i'm just being a little bitch about it
#i'm queasy cutting at sensitive areas which has got to be the most inconvenient trait to have as someone who wants to#I can do it I know I can i'm just#being selfish#it's literally only my family holding me back and not even in a good way#the thought of me doing this and them finally knowing. and I either die and ruin my family or survive and get hurt#I'm so serious I would've already done this by now if it weren't for them. i'm afraid of what they would say what they would do#I only cause another problem for them and they can tell me how immature I am and I need to take more responsibility#suck it up you're gonna ruin your future#nothing's wrong with you it's all in your head#then blame it on my father somehow#punish me and now I really can't escape#it's an absolute nightmare scenario and it scares my subconscious enough to not be willing to attempt#if there weren't going to be people whom I know would further isolate and trap me afterwards if I make it...#they would never understand#I feel like if I do this I have to guarantee I don't make it. which is scarier. but shit I have to do something at some point#I can't. this can't be all what my high school life is going to be#I have no where to go. no dreams no goals#when has me ever doing something drastic ever made anyone listen#I try to run away no one listens. I try to kms no one listens. try to kms again no one listens. run away again no one listens#if i'm dying right in front of them will they finally listen#I'd had pills on me for months. I can end it at any moment#just one bad episode. pushed right off the edge. in the right scenario. I could impulsively do it#still remember when that happened. staring at the pills in my hand. I only didn't do it because I had things to hide and I only had 15 minu#there's so many times where I would've died had something not intervened
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NSFW
Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.
That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.
As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.
Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.
It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.
It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.
You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…
Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.
The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.
“H-hello?”
The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.
You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.
The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.
Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?
Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.
Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.
“Are you hungry?”
You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.
“Hello? Are you-“
He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.
“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.
He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.
“My love…”
From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.
You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.
Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.
“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”
And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.
It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.
The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.
After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.
You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?
He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.
Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?
#monster fucker#monster fudger#monster fic#monster lover#x reader#chubby reader#chubby!reader#fem reader#female reader#monster boyfriend#vampire x reader#vampire imagine#vampire#vampire boyfriend#monster fuqqer#monster imagine#monster boy oc#monster smut#monster#vampire smut#x reader smut#reader insert#requests open#fem!reader#imagines#plus size reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#teraphilia
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screaming crying obsessing and running mental marathons for the tags cannot contain me OP
and here we are, destined to suffer the same fate; to never stay together, to never last forever
#GUYS#THIS IS. THIS IS THEIR DEATHS#WHEN KUDO WATCHED YOICHI DIE IN THE SEWERS. WHEN YOICHI SAW OFF KUDO TO BE SHATTERED AS A VESTIGE#i saw this earlier and am seeing it again to try understanding what this was cuz i didnt get it the first time#as i look for more stuff about the first 3 holders on here#the fact kudo purposely sacrificed himself first and wouldnt let anyone else be the “test”#Leader earned his position and nickname as Leader. he really stood at the front for danger#AFO chasing them in the sewers? Leader stayed at the back of everyone. he held the hand of - and ran with - the weakest member of the group#yoichi wasnt supposed to have died in the sewers. kudo was. not only cuz HE MADE SURE TO STAY AT THE BACK#WITH YOICHI. BUT BC AFO HATES KUDO SO MUCH. HE COULDVE MISFIRED#AFO KILLING YOICHI IS NARRATED BY AFO LOOKING AT KUDO AND TELLING HIM TO GET AWAY FROM YOICHI.#not only is it a [if I cant have u no one can] moment with AFO and yoichi. but its this#the star in their eyesss. ofa? yoichi had ofa right before he got shredded but when theyre vestiges theyre both part of ofa#[I blinked once and you were gone] would be a fitting line for them but. NEITHER OF THEM FRICKIN BLINKED AT THE OTHERS DEATHS.#THEY KEPT THEIR EYES ON EACH OTHER THE WHOLE TIME. KUDO LET THE BLOOD IN HIS EYES. YOICHI REFUSED TO CLOSE HIS EYES WHEN HE TEARED UP#reblog#spoilers#boku no hero academia#bnha#my hero academia#mha#kudo#yoichi shigaraki#the first image is yoichi being shredded. but the 2nd image has yoichi with mist and kudo shattering like glass#it fits the exact momentssss. yoichi and kudo were vestiges in the 2nd image. but kudo is solid in the 1st cuz he was alivee#and kudos got the scar in death but not alivee#WAIT. OP. THE COLORS. THEYRE COLORED IN THE 1ST CUZ THEYRE ALIVE BUT THEYRE THEIR VESTIGE COLORS IN THE 2ND#THE DETAIL IN THIS MY GUYYYYY (i say this as gender neutral)#AND KUDO /WAS/ ACTUALLY SMILING IN CANON AS HE SHATTERED WHILE YOICHI JUST HOLDS HIS TEARS AT BAY. AND YOICHI JUST SMILES AT HIM AND CALLS#HIM HIS HERO FOR THE LAST TIME. BC YOICHI KNOWS THE SACRIFICE
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Dead on Main AU Prompt Fic
Edit: i use @shewhowillrise
The Justice League was choosing their head engineer. They had a few contenders. One being the top student in engineering at Gotham University, even has a scholarship through Jason Wayne’s Scholarship for Underperforming Students. Bruce Wayne has started it after adopting Jason and seeing how smart he was but also how much he struggled in school.
Daniel Fenton lived on the same street as the Monarch Theatre, the same street he found Jason.
Batman couldn’t help but think Daniel was what Jason could have been if he was able to finish school and head off too college.
Batman knocked on the apartment door, not at all surprised at how fast it opened. When setting up the meeting, he could hear the excitement over the phone.
“Hello Batman Sir!” Daniel greeted, holding out a hand. He had a strong firm grip, reminded him of Clark’s. Possibly a meta, which is a plus. With what the kid might encounter while building or making repairs, a meta gene would be good to have, especially strength.
And over the meeting Batman fell more and more in love with the kid’s enthusiasm. Without the guarantee of the job, the kid was ready to give some ideas (that would amazing) incase the League would need them.
The meeting was supposed to be an hour but soon he noticed that the sun was low.
Batman sat up straighter upon hearing a key turn in the lock.
“Oh that’s my partner, sorry, I would I have warned you but I didn’t realize the meeting was going to be this long,” Danny (only creepy billionaires call me Daniel) said, which Batman also noted that he tried his best not to blame Batman for going over the allotted time. Kid’s respectful too.
“Hey Stardust how’d the meeting I’m not supposed to know about go? I’m sure whatever words you stumbled over the Bat didn’t hold it against you for being nerv-” the disembodied voice walks into the dining room, and freezes in surprise before collecting himself, an easy smile going on his face while wiping grease stained hands on his grease stained jeans and stuck one out to shake.
“Hi, I’m Jaylad Peters,” he says but Batman doesn’t take the hand offered. He doesn’t react at all.
In front of him is his baby boy, the one that died in his arms, the one he buried in Gotham Cemetery, near Thomas and Martha. His Jason.
#danny fenton#amnesiac Jason Todd#jason todd#bruce wayne#dc x dp#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc prompt#dc x dp prompt#dcxdp#dpxdc#dead on main#haven’t used this damn blog in 6 years why tf is mobile decided to post it here
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*✧・゚: *✧・゚ "in the dead of night"・゚✧*: ・゚✧*
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
#jace velaryon#jace targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#jace velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jace targaryen x reader#hotd imagine#hotd#jacaerys targaryen x you
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Guys, I had one of the weirdest 15 minutes of my life yesterday, as if some higher power put me in a jar and shook me around for a very short time and then let me out again.
But before I can tell the story I need to quickly make sure everyone has the context: Kotelet, the stray I took in had 2 bigger kittens and was super pregnant. These are the cutlets 1.0 and 2.0, you’ve mostly seen the second gen as they were born with me. But the two initial kittens went to Danny. They were very wild and we tried to socialize them, but in the process unfortunately one of them got out and was lost forever. This was way back in the beginning of August. The other kitten became Dietzel and recently Danny adopted one of the 2.0 gen to keep him company since we sadly never found the other kitten again… Okay keeping that in mind I can tell my story.
Yesterday around 2 I left my house to go to Danny. While waiting for my tram I was texting someone who is coming to adopt the last kitten. This combined with the nose cold I’ve been having made me a bit inattentive, and I got on the wrong tram. Not too big of a problem, bc this tram also travels close by Danny, I just had to walk one kilometer. A 15 minute walk. What could happen in that time right, I’ve done this route so often.
I get of the tram and I cross a bigger intersection. Open sky above me, as is typical for an intersection. Light goes green, I’m on the crosswalk. Suddenly, and with a loud slap, a pigeon drops dead on the ground in front of me.
I look at the pigeon. I look at the clear sky. I look back at the pigeon. I look back up. I notice the cables of the tram that go over the crosswalk, and realize it must have flown into the cables, and was killed by electrocution. At least it died instantly. Not a bad way to go for a pigeon. One moment it was going “weeeh I’m a bird”, next thing the lights went out.
The crosswalk light had turned red. Normally this would be immediately be followed by irritated honking, but as I make eye contact with the driver perpendicular to me, he also points at the cables and we exchange some “crazy right??” looks while I hurry to the side of the road.
“What’s it called again when people tell fortune by looking at birds?” I think, (it’s Ornithomancy) “the ancients Greeks did it, I remember it from the Odyssey… sure hope it’s not a bad omen!” I imagine a Greek augur predicting a war or whatever when a bird drops straight from the sky and someone going “is that bad?” I chuckle to myself, just a tiny bit nervous, and I continue my walk. Not long to go now.
“Pigeon dropped dead in front of me” I triple text Danny “Crazy. Electrocuted by the tram infrastructure. Super dead in an instance.”
A neighborhood cat cheerfully walks by me. I automatically lean down to pet it, can’t cross a friendly cat without saying hi! It’s a teenage tuxedo.
WAIT.
The cat looks at me. It has a little white moustache. It starts sniffing my boots like crazy.
Could it be…
Squatting on the sidewalk, I go in my pictures folder and frantically search for pictures of the cutlets 1.0 The cat leans against me. I find a picture where the kitten has a distinctive black mark on the back of its otherwise white socks. I stare down.
On the back of its legs it has a distinctive black mark.
“You got to be kidding me” I say. “Sniff sniff” says the cat. He headbutts me again.
I am 350 meters from Danny’s door. Obviously I don’t have anything with me. A car drives close by. I gotta do something, so I pick him up. And he lets me. And I just start walking.
After a 100 meters, he wants to go down again, so holding him in a sitting position, I grasp his hind legs with one hand, like they hold wild birds when ringing them, and my other arm goes across him to squeeze him against my chest and I hold his front paws. He meows a little and bites me so very lightly. He just kinda presses his teeth against my skin to communicate he’s not impressed by my action, but that’s all. He’s still pretty tiny after all.
I ring the doorbell, and Danny buzzes me in. “Bring a carrier!” I yell trough the speaker. “What?? Why??” “Just come down!”
He opens te door and looks confused. “Is that Kotelet??” is his first question, as they look alike. “No, try again” I say. Now Danny’s eyes go wide. “No. It’s not possible…”
It’s been more than 3 months. Danny just starts crying out of shock. I start laughing. Both losing it in different ways about the absurdity of the situation.
We’re in Danny’s living room. The little guy is eating all the wet food he can and promptly passes out. We just stare at him. The other cats are peeking in from the bedroom. I look at its white paws, all grey from the street. He purrs. We sit in silence, kind of forgetting to blink.
“Did you see my text about the pigeon that dropped dead in front of me.”
#cats#kittens#foster kittens#story#the cutlets#my cats#Puree#Danny doesn’t have space for 3 cats but I’m already talking to someone who’s interested
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