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moonydustx · 6 months ago

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Am I really late with all the requests? Yes. Would I have peace until I wrote Law's angst with his daughter that I mentioned here? HELL NO

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The diagnosis

Law x F!Reader (but the main focus is Law with your daughter, Rosi)

warnings: angst, a lot of angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mentions of Dressrosa's arc, F!Reader and the crew are in Zou. Rosi is around seven years old, a child still learning to deal with feelings. Some things may be non-canon.

a/n: I've had this idea saved and drafted since I posted pt.01 of Law x F!Pregnant!Reader and as I had a few minutes left today, I decided to take them out of the draft.

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

Perhaps not even the heavens knew how long he had waited for this moment. How much he feared that this moment would never come.

The path guided by the vivre card seemed further from what he imagined, tireless steps in a direction in which he was guided. But Law knew what that racing heart in him meant, the sweat on his hands, the anxiety on his body. He had managed to return to his family.

Law barely had time to prepare himself before he saw Bepo run towards him, his body immediately bent to support the weight of the huge bear on top of him. He couldn't deny it, he was happy to see the crew again and they were an essential part of the family.

The small makeshift house in Zou was more than enough for you and Rosi, in addition to the crewmates who sometimes stayed there to provide some help or company. However, this time you could hear a commotion outside, something atypical for the time of day. Still wearing a kitchen apron, preparing lunch for the two of you - three in this case, Ikkaku was distracting Rosi outside and would definitely be invited to join you, you tried to reach the knife you had used earlier. The tool stopped being necessary as soon as you saw the person you most looked forward to seeing enter right behind Bepo.

"Law?" your voice barely came out, barely kept up with the speed of your thoughts or your body throwing itself against his. "I was so worried!" at that moment, your voice was already breaking with the tears held in for so long.

"I'm sorry for not giving you any news." he began, pressing your body tight against his and filling every bit of skin he could find with kisses. "I missed you so much."

"Hey, where's the little one?" Bepo asked, looking around. You let go of your husband just enough to answer him.

"She and Ikkaku had left, but they should be arriving soon." Turning your attention to Law, you took his hand and guided him to the table. "I know you must be tired, but I need to know everything that happened."

Even though he was tired, Law knew he owed you that. Crewmates had given a little preview of your situation as soon as they saw you arrive. "And you just took a good ton off your wife's shoulders." The phrase still danced in his mind as he recounted his solo adventure in a more superficial way.

It didn't take long for the story to be interrupted again, but this time, with a little comfort for Law. Rosi's laugh reached his ears even before the girl appeared in his field of vision. However, something felt off.

"Daddy?" The laughter seemed to disappear as soon as she found her father's figure sitting at the table.

"My little princess!" Law got up excitedly to go towards her and saw her retreat and go behind Ikkaku and then run away to go back to the yard.

"Rosi!" Your tone of voice, despite not getting any louder, became firmer and all it took was an exchange of glances with Ikkaku for her to help you and go after the girl.

You could feel the gazes of the other companions burning in your direction and even Law analyzing you in a way that you knew he had doubts, but that would be for later.

"So… Luffy helped you?" Penguin tried to return to the topic and you could notice your husband continuing the conversation.

A much less interested tone of voice than before accompanied the small glances he took towards the door, waiting for his little one to return.

At lunch time, Ikkaku managed to bring the girl back and together, they had lunch. You and Law were still able to exchange topics between you, but you could both notice that the girl only exchanged words with Ikkaku and just moved the food from one side to the other.

"Dear?" your sweet voice tried to call her and you could see her eyes shining towards you, identical to Law's. "What happened? You barely ate."

"From what I remember, it's your favorite dish, isn't it?" Law added, having noticed the same thing.

The girl just looked at him and then at the plate. A small, barely audible "yes" left her lips, before she could push the plate away and leave the three of you adults behind at the table. The sigh coming from you was audible at the same time as you put your hands to your face and clearly frustrated, you went after your little girl.

"Captain?" Ikkaku caught his attention, who seemed still inert in the scene he had just witnessed, with a small murmur from him, she knew she could continue. "I know you have your worries and I bet you arrived tired, but…" she indicated where you were sitting at the table. "It wasn't just Rosi who didn't touch the food."

"What have I missed in this time away?" he asked immediately, seeing his crewmate get up and touch his shoulder, gently.

"It's been a difficult time captain. Your girls will soon be completely happy again."

Law had this dizzying thought in his head throughout the afternoon. Knowing that you were busy with Rosi and that his doubts would likely remain in the air, he sought out the second group of people he might know.

"I need help." Law arrived at the small circle, warning the other three that they were starting to walk in an unknown direction. "Can you help me?"

"We're going to have a drink, but speak up, captain." Shachi encouraged, throwing his arm over Law's shoulder.

"Have you lost the knack of seducing your own wife?" Penguin tried to do the same and ended up being pushed away just like the other one.

"Nothing like that. I want to know what happened to the two of them while I was away. What has been happening to my wife and daughter." Almost tangibly, Law felt the air become heavy and his colleagues' expressions became more serious. "I knew something had happened."

"You should ask your wife." Shachi insisted.

"No." Bepo interrupted. "We know she won't tell everything and that she and Rosi have been at it for a while."

"What happened?" Law said more rudely, he was no longer anything more than a bundle of worries.

"In the first few days, Rosi suffered a lot, I think it was a lot of different things all at once. But there was the small incident with the vivre card." the bear began, receiving the captain's full attention. "We know that at some point you were on the verge of death and well, they noticed."

"What do you mean they noticed?"

"Do you think a wife wouldn't look at the vivre card of her husband who went on a practically suicidal mission?" Penguin pointed out as if it were obvious. "We were all together and trying to calm her down. Rosi wasn't home, so we didn't worry too much.

"Fuck." Law murmured, suspicious of the direction that story could take. He remembered giving her the paper as a way of reassuring the girl. The plan had apparently gone wrong.

"So, they both saw you kind of die and come back into their hands. Ikkaku was with Rosi and took her back home…" Bepo seemed hesitant to continue, but Law's incisive look didn't allow it. "She was desperate, as any child would be, I think."

"After that, Rosi became like this, more quiet in her own way. It's been a bit of work to eat, to socialize, she seems to be keeping everything to herself." Shachi took on a serious tone that Law wasn't used to seeing.

Shit, shit and a thousand times shit.

"Captain!" Law felt Bepo pull him back. "I know you must be worried, but it's good to cool your head before talking to them."

"I just want to show them that I'm okay." he insisted, but gave up. Leaning against the nearest tree and taking a deep breath, trying to get your head straight. "I'm a terrible father."

"I do not think so." again, Shachi's rare serious tone appeared. "If it was, they wouldn't have missed you so much."

Night fell and Law hesitated a bit before entering the house again. He was the one who had caused the strange atmosphere, he was the one who was making his girls barely eat. How to live with that?

As soon as he entered, he could see you collecting some dishes, alone in the kitchen. Taking slow steps and being careful not to scare you, he wrapped his hands around your waist, letting his face sink into your neck.

"I know I have some things to retract." he murmured against your skin, placing a light kiss. "I know I owe a lot to you and our girl and I know I gave you both a real scare."

"Babe…"

"I'm sorry." he asked and found your eyes flooding, just the mention seemed to hurt you again. "Forgive me"

"I understand well how vivre cards work, but I won't deny the scare." you chose to leave most of the drama out, turning to him and watching Law dry the few tears that were running down your face.

"Our babygirl doesn't understand, does she?"

"Our babygirl doesn't understand." you agreed. "I talked to her today, she says she feels kind of sick when she's around you. I said luckily her dad is a great doctor. You should go talk to her." you insisted and saw him nod, but remain still, just taking in what to expect. "Honey, she's fine. She's just trying to deal with everything that happened. She loves you unconditionally."

"I-I'll go there."

It was like when he found out about your pregnancy or like when he held little Rosi in his arms for the first time. The nervousness, the insecurity of seeing little Rosi again.

He leaned against the doorstep and for a few seconds, he saw her distracted with some drawings on paper. From afar he could recognize Bepo, you and the others amidst the scribbles.

"Hey!" he tried to attract attention in a pleasant way, seeing the girl startle and look in his direction. "It's okay. Can I stay here for a little while?"

"Yes Dad." she replied in a low tone again.

Dodging some toys on the floor, he walked over to the bed, sitting down and looking around. It wasn't as crowded a room as hers at Polar Tang, but it felt cozy. Next to her pillow rested the small plush he had given as a gift, which was next to her hat - identical to his - and a photo of the two of them, taken in a park that Rosi made Law go to absolutely every attraction.

"Your drawings are cool." he tried to start a conversation and saw her nod. "Your mommy told me you haven't been feeling well."

"Yeah, I feel weird." she limited herself to punctuating, not knowing how to put into words what she felt.

"Come here so I can take a look." Law asked and stretched out his hand to her.

Rosi approached and letting his medical instincts guide, Law analyzed the girl from top to bottom, eyes, throat, everything within reach of his eyes. However, he could notice that the girl avoided looking directly at him.

"Let me see… Is this right too?" He squeezed her sides, tickling her. For a brief moment, Rosi allowed herself to laugh, but then pushed Law's arms away. "My love, tell me what you're feeling."

"I don't know." she murmured, her eyes looking away from him again.

Gently he took her small chin between his fingers and turned her towards him.

"You know you can trust me, don't you?" he asked and saw her nod, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "Explain to me in your own way, what you're feeling."

"Here, it feels like there's something here and it's burning, like it's stuck." she pointed to her throat and then to where her little heart was. "And here, sometimes it feels like someone is squeezing really hard."

"Squeezing hard?" he touched gently, feeling the girl's accelerated heartbeat.

It was a complex diagnosis and if Law didn't know what had happened - and how much love his relationship with his daughter carried, it would have been impossible to discover. But, he had a brief hunch.

"I think I know what it could be." he said, with a small smile on his lips. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." she nodded along.

Law held her small hands and brought them to his face, just like he did with his hands. As soon as she did, he could see her lip tremble even more. Poor little girl. What had he done to leave her without information?

"You can feel my face, can't you?" he asked and she nodded. "And you can feel me too, can't you?"

Law lightly squeezed one of her cheeks, trying in vain to get a laugh from the girl. He didn't know if he could handle the girl's tears.

"Now I want you to take a deep breath, like this…" he breathed in and saw her do the same. Soon after, he exhaled and saw her repeat the gesture too. "Can you keep doing that while daddy talks to you?"

Again the girl nodded, now her eyes seemed focused on every movement Law made. Trying to reassure her, Law let her take a deep breath before starting.

"I know I scared you and that you saw my vivre card disappear, I know you thought I was gone." Just those words were able to bring a few sobs out of the girl and Law would be lying if he said that his own eyes weren't burning. "I know that a lot has changed and that I wasn't here to help you. I wanted to apologize for that. Forgive me, my little princess?"

Rosi, who was already just sobs and tears, allowed herself to cry again after a while. Law didn't hesitate to hold the little girl in a hug, his eyes that used to burn now shed tears without hesitation.

"I - I thought y-you weren't... y-you weren't c-coming back." the girl said through sobs, each one breaking Law's heart.

"You and your mother are the most important things I have in my entire life. I would never leave you." he explained, seeing that it only made her cry even more. "I promise never do that again."

"Do you really promise?"

"With all my life." The girl's crying still seemed inconsolable and Law wondered for a brief moment how much hurt she had held, how many nights she had gone to sleep thinking that her own father would never return. "It's okay my love, I'm here. Daddy promises to never leave you."

In the distance, you could hear the crying and small words of reassurance exchanged between the two. Little by little, your little family was getting back on track.

As soon as the crying stopped, Law could see the girl's eyes get heavy and it didn't take long for her to fall asleep. One of her arms tied to his as if to prevent him from disappearing from her sight. Her diagnosis was almost as simple as the one he had given himself: she just missed him, the same as he missed his little girl.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader

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enchantedflameandflower · 1 month ago

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Vincent Stevens x reader fic!

mood board by @kus-babygirl

We’ve got a new Vincent x reader multi-part romance! This was all entirely written by @kus-babygirl and her idea as well. I’ve done all the editing and added some bits here and there and she’s asked me to post for her! If you leave a comment make sure to tag @kus-babygirl!

Part 1

You had never imagined the most notorious womaniser in the city would ever fall in love with you, let alone completely change for you, but somehow…he did. Now you love him just as much and the two of you are here on your wedding day, saying your vows.

Okay, you’re probably wondering how you got here and who you’re marrying, so let's rewind to 3 years ago and start at the beginning…

You and your two best friends, Mia and Ayala, are out celebrating for your 30th birthday. Even though you refused numerous times before, as always, they managed to convince you to go out and celebrate with them. So here you are drinking and dancing to the most ridiculous songs known to mankind in a bar, but the three of you wouldn't change it for the world.

After a bit, you need a break and you turn to Mia, touching her arm. “I'm going to sit down at the bar, my feet are killing me in these heels,” you shout over the music.

“Alright!” she shouts back, still dancing like a crazy person. And Ayala, you’ve noticed, has gone off with a man she met as soon as you three entered the bar, but you weren't worried about her, you knew she could handle herself.

You carefully weave in and out of people as you try to make your way to the bar, but the place is crowded and some of them are moving around a bit wildly to the music. Just as you smile to yourself thinking you’re about to make it unscathed, someone behind you bumps your shoulder, making you jolt forward and knocking you right into someone else.

“Whoa!” The stranger in front of you exclaims. You watch as a few drops of his drink fly out of his glass, and he lifts his arm high up in front of him, trying to keep more of the alcohol from spilling.

“I’m so sorry!” you gasp, but you’re way too flustered to say more and you hurry off toward the bar before you get bumped into again, or worse.

Finally, you manage to make it and you take a seat on one of the stools, ordering yourself a glass of ice water. You’ve already consumed enough alcohol tonight to put an alcoholic to shame, that was for sure.

After a few minutes, you start to relax. You’re taking very little sips of the water that the bartender gave you when a man takes a seat beside you.

“Excuse me, I don't mean to intrude, but you owe me a drink.”

Confused, you turn to him, frowning a little. You realize suddenly this must be the man you bumped into but you hadn’t spilled his drink, he’d saved it. “Why do I owe you a drink?”

“Because when I saw your beautiful face after you rushed off, I dropped mine,” he answers with such a charming smile that you were sure women all over would fall over their feet for him instantly.

You scoff slightly, trying not to blush. “That has to be one of the cheesiest pick up lines I’ve ever heard.”

The man chuckles lightly. “But it worked right,?”

“Oh, I wouldn't say that,” you answer before turning back to the dance floor and seeing Ayala has now rejoined Mia with her dancing.

"Well, can I buy you a drink then?” he asks, sounding a little more sincere now. “In reparation for having to listen to such a cheesy line?”

You finally turn back toward him, and notice he’s leaning a little closer, but not enough to make you uncomfortable, and you study him for a moment, taking in everything about him, and you can’t help but be curious…is he…?. “I don't normally accept drinks from total strangers,” you finally answer, “but I think I could make an exception for you. I'll take a Coca Cola. I’ve already had enough alcohol for tonight and I don't want to wake up with a hangover tomorrow. I’m starting a new job.”

The man smiles, turning to the bar and ordering both himself and you drinks. Once they arrive you take very light sips of yours, happily relishing in the fizzy sweetness of the drink.

You spend awhile with him, chatting casually and sipping your drinks. You have to admit he’s extremely handsome and the conversation is good, he’s kind and thoughtful, asking you questions and actually listening.

“So what are you celebrating?'” he asks, smiling the most handsome smile you’ve maybe ever seen.

“My 30th birthday, and starting my new job tomorrow,” you answer simply.

“Well, happy birthday and congrats on the new job! Maybe we could…turn this into a proper celebration, if you want? Come to my place with me, it will be quieter, we could talk some more…” he says sounding hopeful.

You smile, before downing the rest of your drink and hopping off the bar stool and turning to him. "I'm sorry. I don't do one night stands with serial cheaters, and I wouldn't want anyone to think I only got this job because I slept with the boss. I will see you tomorrow at 9 o'clock, Mr Stevens."

You turn away, making your way back onto the dance floor with your friends, while leaving Vincent Stevens by the bar absolutely flummoxed.

tbc…

Part 2

#karl urban #vincent stevens #vincent stevens x reader #vincent stevens x you #karl urban fanfiction #the loft

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bubblessunshinehoney · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!! I saw your most recent fic, and I absolutely loved it! I’ve been watching YouTube like crazy and got an idea for Steve Rogers. If you don’t like it I am perfectly understanding of it! I was thinking of something where the reader had her wisdom teeth removed and Steve is there to help, but along the way, he deals with the silliness of it all. It’s okay if you don’t want to, as I said I completely understand! Xx

Truth serum

Hey ! I'm super happy you loved my last fic ! And I absolutely love your idea !! Here's what came from your ask, hope you'll enjoy it !

Love,

Cloudy

TW: none, fluff, nonsense because of anesthesia.

not beta read, english is not my first language, all mistakes are my own.

Don't be shy: reblog, comment, like !!

You felt dizzy, fuzzy and you couldn't focus your eyes. You knew, you were at the dentist, you just had your wisdom teeth removed. You didn’t feel your tongue or your lips, making you sob quietly… well not so quietly, when your super soldier boyfriend was in the corridor, waiting to come and see you.

“Honey?” he whispered not to startle you.

“Weve?” you slurred.

Your head is rolling from side to side, looking for him, you relax when he takes your hand in his, you intend to smile, but..well only half of your mouth lifts, making Steve smile tenderly.

“How do you feel, love?”

You groan, trying to pucker your lips.

“ca’t fwel my lups”, another sob, “ow ca i iss ou?”

He takes a moment for him to understand what you’re saying, but when he does, he leans in and kisses you softly, it tickles you, but it’s not like usual and you let another sob out.

“Ca’t fwel! nooo, m’roken” you gasp and open your eyes wide. “Mean i no longe’ yo gurfwiend!”, you cry, fully cry and Steve is taken aback. He knew that anaesthesia could lead to unexpected reactions, but he was not ready for this.

“You’re still my girlfriend, honey, you’re even my fiancé, remember?”

You stop crying and look at him, well you intend to, but you cross eyed and blink.

“Fiancé?”, you whisper to yourself. “You want to marry me?”, you ask him in disbelief.

Steve chuckles quietly “Of course i want to marry you, i’m in love with you”

“YOU WOVE ME?”

He rubs your knuckle tenderly and nods, you look at him, shocked.

“you wove me?”, you whisper-yell.

“I do, I love you sweetie”.

The nurse comes in to monitor you and you look at her.

“He woves me. he ant mary me. he woves me, nat!”

The nurse looks at Steve and smiles. “Do I look like the black widow?”

He laughs softly, “I think yeah, it must be the red hair.” She laughs with him and you’re sure they’re mocking you.

“It a prank? You no wove me, you wove nat. i’m fool. nobody woves me. i’m alone.”

Steve sits on the bed and holds your hand tightly, “No, baby, absolutely not. I only want you.”

He realises slowly that you might express all your insecurities. The nurse looks at him and gives him a reassuring smile. “She’s all good, just have to wait for the doc before she can go.”

The nurse leaves, but you can’t stop the tears from rolling. Steve realises you are having a panic attack, he starts to draw circles on your wrist and hums your favourite song. It helps a little, but your brain can’t decide if he’s lying or not about the wedding. It’s all fuzzy and you feel dizzy and sleepy.

“Honey, baby, i love you, i only love you, since the moment i saw you for the first time in the office.”

You sniffle, nodding.

“I ha trush on you sin you tame out of the ite. A tupid fangurl… sorry, I'm treep. No want to make you fall in love with me. I just…”

He kisses your forehead, shutting you up.

“But steve, yo-”

“No, baby, I know all of that. And you’re not a creep. You’re my love. I had a crush on you too, the first you came to work, I had my eyes on you. See we are both creeps.”

You chuckle and sigh. “Amatin ‘tevie, wanna ave ur baby”, you start to drift off, letting a Captain flushed and hot. “Ant all you baby…wanna mate you a daddy…”

You continue to babble nonsense about making the Captain America the best daddy ever, have all his little ones, being full of him all the time. Steve feels hot more and more, shaking his head, because even with saying such filthy words you were the most adorable woman he ever lays his eyes on.

Later that day

You’re back home with Steve, sipping a little soup and he keeps looking at you with a new hunger in his eyes.

“What is it Steve? You keep looking at me weird”.

“You don’t remember?”

You arch a brow… shaking your head “no…what should I remember?”

Steve looks at you dead in the eyes “About making me a daddy and being full of my children?”

You choke on your soup. “No I did not say that ? Did I?”. You hide behind your hands. Steve chuckles tenderly.

“It’s just we never talk about it and you blurted that out… and i…couldn’t stop thinking about it since then.”

At that moment, you’re both blushing hard. After a long silence, you look at him.

“Marry me first Rogers, then we can work on making you a Daddy.”

The end

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve x bucky #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers fandom #chris evans fandom #chris evans character fanfiction #marvel fandom #marvel fluff #marvel fanfics #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x reader fluff

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nethhiri · 5 months ago

Text

Siren Charms: Chapter 15

Zoro x Siren!Reader

Warnings: blood

Murky Waters

The entire ship was awoken by a bloodcurdling scream the next morning. Usopp stood in front of the aquarium, shaking, as the rest of the Straw Hats ran in. A few gasped and covered their mouths. The water in it was murky red and there was not a single fish to be seen. There was, however, a dark shape in the center, slowly moving towards the glass. Your front half came into view, face up. Your mouth was open and your eyes were closed. It looked like you were a floating half of a body.

"Oh my god. She's dead!"

"Is there a shark?!"

You floated closer to the glass until there was a soft bonk as your forehead connected with it. Your eyes flew open, causing more screams, including from yourself. Everyone looked upside-down to you, and not just because you were hungover. You spun yourself around to be facing them and your tail came into view. It seemed neither Robin, Franky, nor Zoro had told anyone about yesterday's discovery, because everyone who was not them was pointing and yelling. You pressed your hands on the glass and waved. It was difficult to hear, but you heard someone distinctly say the 'm' word.

"Not. A. Mermaid." You poked the glass with every word. The water distorted your voice, but you made sure they understood. You looked around. "How do I get out?"

"How did you get in!?" Nami yelled.

Sanji gleefully skipped off to the hatch that led from the deck to the aquarium. "I'm coming, darling!"

There was a rectangle of light that revealed itself several minutes later and you swam to it. You poked your head through and then pulled the rest of your body out. You slapped the hatch closed with your tail and rolled on your back, groaning. Your stomach was killing you, from the drinking or from the one or two fish you ate, you didn't know. You must have sniffed out the fish when you were near-drunk.

"Holy shit," Nami's mouth hung open.

The rest of the gang was similarly surprised by the sight. You were a lot bigger than a mermaid would be proportionally, your tail was longer and your fins were bigger. The black scales glittered in the sunlight in a way that made them look like thousands of small rainbows, something that was not visible in the murky water.

"I think somebody ate all your fish." You said nonchalantly. "Probably that mermaid girl."

"Yeah, somebody." Usopp eyed you. "You have something there." He pointed at the side of his mouth.

You reached up and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, brushing away a scale that was not your own. "I might have had one."

"My darling Ether should be able to eat whatever she desires." Sanji dramatically put the back of his hand on his forehead. "Though it pains me deeply to think she was so hungry, she ate unseasoned, raw fish."

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't me." It definitely was, but you couldn't actually remember.

"Do you know how long it took to get that many fish?" Usopp whined. "It's going to take forever to get more. What if we run out of food and have to resort to eating each other!?"

"I call Zoro," you said way too quickly. "I mean I'll help get more fish. Even though it for sure wasn't me." Everybody was staring. "What?! He has the most meat."

Luffy had his fingers in an L-shape, resting on his chin. "You have a point."

"Hah?! Look at her she's way bigger than me." Zoro pointed at you.

"Only sometimes!"

"We could be the first people to try siren sashimi," Robin mused.

"When you put it that way, I bet we could sell it for a fortune," Nami was lost in a daydream.

"Nobody has to eat anybody. It'll be a cinch to catch more." Franky piped up. "Check it out. While you guys were arguing over who to eat first, I made this crazy awesome winch with a giant net. We plop it in the water, Ether can chase fish into it, we pull it up, and whammo-blammo we got a buffet, baby! Wa-OW!"

"Wonderful idea, Franky," Robin patted him on the arm.

"That sure was fast," Usopp commented.

Hachi and Camie, who were asleep in their own ship, still tethered to Sunny, heard the commotion and came on deck. They were both wide-eyed when they saw you, and Camie moved behind Hachi, along with her starfish.

"Ah... You guys didn't mention you had a siren on the crew." Hachi might have been more wary had he known. He couldn't tell just from looking at you now. You sort of resembled one of those exotic, deep-sea mermaid types. He had seen you yesterday with wings though, and could put it all together.

"I thought they were made-up!" Camie hid further behind the fish-man. "They used to tell us as kids that if we misbehaved, they would leave us in the middle of nowhere for the sirens to eat."

You snickered at that.

"You don't have to worry about that now. She's probably pretty full from eating our entire aquarium's worth of fish," Usopp grumbled.

"I told you already. That probably wasn't me!" You slapped the deck with your tail, causing Camie to flinch.

The plan was explained to everyone, and Camie and Hachi were enlisted to help as well. You decided to wait until dusk, when the fish were more active. In the meantime, you were guilted into helping clean the aquarium of bones and other debris, while the water was changed. You hugged your tail when you were done, floating around aimlessly, stomach still killing you. It was around mid-afternoon when you heard clinking, rousing you from a half-asleep state. You turned to see Zoro taking a bottle from the bar outside the aquarium. He saw you watching and walked over, opening whatever his drink of choice was on the way.

"Hey."

You swam closer to him, bringing yourself eye to eye.

He stared at his drink a minute before looking, not directly at you, but sort of past you, so he didn't have to meet your eye. "I, uh, didn't mean to hurt your feelings yesterday." He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. "I'm, uh, glad you took it out on the fish instead of eating me. Since apparently, um, I'm your first choice."

You looked him up and down. "I didn't take you for the apologizing type."

"I'm a nice guy!" Zoro paused. "I guess you haven't really gotten to see that though since I've been keeping my distance."

"And if you had gotten to know me, you would see there's no- barely any reason to keep your distance."

Zoro grunted and took a drink.

"Guess we have to get to know each other, huh?" You winked at him.

Zoro choked the sip down and mumbled a goodbye, leaving abruptly.

Sheesh. Normally your flirting made people stick around. Actually your feelings may have been more hurt by him running away just now, than by his words yesterday. You went to the hatch and pulled yourself out on deck. It wasn't comfortable to move across wood in this form. You positioned yourself to roll towards the railing. Then from there, it was easy to pull yourself up and over, diving into the water. Your goggles and mask were snuggly on your head, acting as a headband. You only used them in combat for the most part. You didn't need the mask to breathe or the goggles to see, they just aided those things when you were moving very high, very deeply, or very quickly.

You passed time swimming around at a leisurely pace. When the fish started to become more active, you started rounding them up, chasing them towards the ship. The sun was sinking below the horizon and the sky was gradually darkening. Hachi and Camie did the same as you from flanking sides. Only when the winch started to whine with the weight of their catch, did they stop. Franky was able to craft it in a way where the fish were deposited directly into the aquarium through the hatch.

"We only lost a day to stocking up, thanks to this one," Nami tilted her head in your direction, "but we're still making good time."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you retorted, not-so-subtly pointing at Camie. You were on deck with your tail curled under you, observing the fish be dumped into the tank.

"I'm startin to think maybe I ate the fish," Luffy mused.

"No, Luffy. You didn't." Nami rolled her eyes.

The nap from earlier prevented you from finding rest that night. You had shed your tail before dinner and were walking on deck without purpose, every so often looking up at the stars. Sometimes when you were on your own, you would float on your back and watch the sky. Your eyes caught the lights of the crow's nest. Maybe you could lay on the roof of it and you would eventually fall asleep. You figured Zoro was up there since the lights were on, so you grabbed a bottle of booze to bring up to him as a token of good will. You knocked on the hatch and invited yourself in. You could have flown up but you didn't want to waste your energy on wings just to get to the roof.

"Hi. Brought ya something." You set the bottle by Zoro, who was cleaning his swords. Then you headed towards the top hatch.

"Thanks." He didn't look up from what he was doing.

You went to the roof and laid out, thinking about your time with the Straw Hats so far. It hadn't been that long, and you had been apprehensive at first, but you did like being with them. It was weird to have people that did things for you and it was weirder for you to do things for them, but it felt nice. You weren't sure how much time had passed when you heard the hatch open.

"Uh, hey, Ether." Zoro pointed to the sword around your waist. "Do you want me to do yours?"

"Hm? Do what?"

"Clean your sword."

"Why does it need to be cleaned? It's in the ocean all the time."

A vein popped out on Zoro's forehead. "Are you saying you don't clean it AND it's in salt water all the time?" You didn't answer him. "Come on." He disappeared down the hatch.

You followed him and handed over your sword. You sat next to him on the bench.

"It's actually not that bad."

"Yeah cuz the ocean water cleans it."

Zoro shot you a look.

"I'm only teasing. Jeez you take swords seriously."

"I have to if I'm gonna be the world's greatest swordsman."

You watched him as he worked with your blade, making sure to clean between each of its joints. "You're the only swordsman I've ever met, so you're already the greatest to me." He cursed under his breath and stuck his finger in his mouth. That wasn't even meant to be flirtatious and he turned pink. You were only stating facts. Then the grin on your face faltered when you smelled the sweet iron of blood.

Tag list: @bbnbhm

#one piece #x reader #siren charms #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #straw hat pirates

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yanderes-galore · 2 years ago

Note

Could I request a scenario where romantic yandere Spitfire falls in love with pegasus reader who works as a janitor for the Wonderbolts.

Sure! I'll see what I have for this plot! :) I struggled a bit so I'm sorry the story is shorter than I wanted it :(

Cleaning Duty

Yandere! Spitfire Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Employer/Employee dynamic, Unhealthy power dynamic, Manipulation, Implied talking/eavesdropping, Forced relationship, Intimidation, Abuse of power/position, Harassment, Very toxic themes.

You'd think being so close to the Wonderbolts would be fantastic, right? They're the best aerial acrobatics group in all of Equestria according to most. Cloudsdale is known for them.

Admittedly, you did think they were cool. Although you weren't fanatic about them. To you, they were simply your employers.

You took the job of janitor for the Wonderbolts Academy specifically. However, if an event calls for it, you'd be there to clean up too. It's a bigger job than most would think.

You don't mind it... the pay is okay and you sometimes greet the Wonderbolts themselves. You mostly kept to yourself. It was better to be out of the way anyways.

The Wonderbolts didn't tend to pay you much mind. Most of them, at least. Spitfire, the popular commander and leader of the Wonderbolts, put you on edge.

Of course there's the obvious reason... she was your employer. Spitfire had hired you and expected you to do your job. A job you did well, luckily.

Then there was the staring. The fellow pegasus always looked at you with a strange intrigue in those orange eyes of hers. You tried to ignore it whenever it happened, choosing to focus on your work.

Spitfire intimidated you due to high status in your eyes. Although she always came to give you the money you were owed personally. Each time you took it you tried not to look her in the eyes.

Some of your coworkers would joke that the head pony had a crush on you. To you... it's a cruel joke. A joke that was plausible just enough that it could be true.

You tried to ignore such a thought.

Spitfire? The leader of the Wonderbolts? With a crush on you, a janitor?

Not a chance.

"Have you not seen the way she looks at you?" Another pegasus asks you. "Doesn't it SCREAM crush to you?"

"Not sure what fantasy you're trying to push... but I want nothing to do with it." You sigh, turning away.

"You can't just deny something's up...!" They say, you shake your head.

"Think about how I feel, will you? Just drop the conversation." With that, you trot off.

You never understood why ponies were so invested in you and your employer. You hated to even think of the idea. Spitfire was just... making sure you did your work... must be.

Any sense of denial was purged when Spitfire approaches you out of the blue hours later.

"You look nervous." Spitfire comments when you stop doing your cleaning to turn. You were... but tried to play it off.

"Oh, it's nothing ma'am. Just had a strange conversation with another coworker."

"Were they causing you trouble?" Spitfire asks standing beside you.

"No...."

"That doesn't sound like a very confident 'no'."

You look away from her... thinking back to the conversation you had hours prior. Spitfire notices your hesitant gaze and moves in front of you.

"You know... we can drop the formalities if it's just us. You just call me Spitfire, and I'll call you (Y/N)."

Your body jolts in nervous surprise at this. Oh, Celestia...

It is true.

"Alright... Spitfire."

She grins at this, having noticed your shock before.

"May I ask what you were talking about with this coworker of yours?"

"... it was nothing."

"Come on... I'm all for a bit of gossip."

That look in her eyes told you she already knew what was up. You don't want to tell her in case you're wrong... in fact, you don't want to be involved.

"It was private, Spitfire."

"... that's fine." Spitfire hums, circling you like some shark. "I already overheard."

Your blood runs cold.

"S-Spitfire..."

"Hearing you say my name and my name alone is euphoric..." Spitfire chuckles. "Ever wonder if the rumors are true?"

Spitfire steps closer, almost nose to nose with you.

"Ever wonder if maybe I do like you like that?"

"Please... I just want to work-" You turn away, but Spitfire just follows you.

"It's the chance of a life-time." Spitfire teases, confirming the rumors you hated to hear were true. "Not many get to date a Wonderbolt. Much less a janitor...."

"I don't want this, Spitfire-"

Spitfire's silent, coming beside you and looking you over. It's as if she's enjoying this. Spitfire's enjoying the power trip.

"I have so much to offer... I can make you a cadet who trains under me... you have such strong wings..." Spitfire purrs, brushing over your wing. "I'll keep things secret if you wish. The rumors will go away... I'll make sure of it."

You whimper when Spitfire tilts her head to see your reaction.

"I'll even give you a pay raise if you really want it."

You're shaking, slowly and nervously trying to decline her again.

"I'm not looking for anything..."

Spitfire frowns, forcing you to look at her again.

"Then what if I threaten your job... your reputation? No pony would hire you..." Spitfire threats. "I promise your life will be good if you're mine. You could have so much more if you say yes...."

You realize there's no getting out of this, not with Spitfire's persistence....

---

You had no choice but to give in. You knew this was wrong... yet you were scared. Spitfire could ruin you.

So you complied... you now dated in secret.

Spitfire was amused and pleased when you accepted her offer. Truthfully she was going to have you one way or another. Even if it required clipping your wings.

Luckily she didn't have to do such an act. You accepted her order... she always loved obedience. In exchange, she teaches you tricks, ups your pay...

... and gives you all the affection anypony could ever want.

You no longer had to be on cleaning duty. If anypony asked about your promotion, or even eluded to your relationship, Spitfire kicked them out of the academy.

She did promise there would be no more rumors... no matter how true.

Spitfire would give you all she has to offer and more... because she "loves" you... and you're hers.

"See? You can have everything... as long as you're with me... my newest Wonderbolt."

#yandere my little pony #yandere mlp #yandere spitfire

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flowerpotmage · 1 year ago

Text

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (6)

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You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Notes: for series: slow burn, ambiguous relationship, found family dynamics, reader is in their late 20s. for chapter: miguel being... well. if you're here you're familiar with his shit. references to offscreen deaths. panic attacks and grief

Word Count: 3.5k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

Author's Note: hiii!! you must be thinking "wtf, it's not monday/sunday where tumblr user flowerpotmage is?" and you'd be correct! i'm posting this chapter on my sunday before my night shift, as i'll be away from my laptop on monday/tuesday while i visit my mom.

i'm a little nervous about this chapter for some reason, so i rly rly hope you like it <3

Miguel does not think he’s catastrophizing.

He’s sure that Jess would disagree, if he confided in her what he was thinking. Scratch that, he knows she would if she knew any of what he was doing.

Peter probably would, too. Shocking Peter. If Miguel knew how many shocking Peter Parkers he’d have to deal with on a day to day basis he probably would have thought twice about inventing the damn multiversal watch.

So, as of now, Lyla is the only one saying anything about his behavior. She’s the only one who knows.

“I think you’re catastrophizing, boss.”

“I am not.”

“And I think you owe them an apology.”

Miguel doesn't disagree, but... “What do you know, Lyla? You’re a LYrate Lifeform Approximation.”

“A very good one with a deep understanding of human relationships and emotions since you lifted me out of being locked to your apartment and got me that upgrade from your old friend, Miguel.”

He huffs.

“I think you're self sabotaging out of a PTSD induced fear of loss.”

“Dios mío, Lyla, okay, will you just let me out of this damn bathroom?!”

Lyla does let him out, eventually (despite his growls of “Vete a la chingada!” when she initially refused), but it doesn't mean she leaves him alone. It's not that she keeps pestering him directly on the subject, but rather that she pokes at it around the edges, a toothpick testing the crust of bread in the oven. Little comments about how you would have been the perfect backup for this or that anomaly event, (“They’re benched until they’re healed, do not ping them.”) or randomly wondering aloud what you might be up to when he’s in the kitchen rinsing a plate (that immediately breaks under his abruptly tightened grip).

And his sleep is terrible. It's been a week and a half since he stepped foot in your dimension, longer since—

He tries not to think about it.

“You know, I can think of something that would help with that,” Lyla practically taunts him late at night when he's trying in vain to relax enough to find sleep

“No.”

The thing is, he shouldn't have gotten so used to it in the first place. Shouldn't have become dependent on you for a good night's sleep. Because how shocking embarrassing, crawling into your comrade’s bed like a child who can’t sleep without their parents.

But it helped. And Miguel had never been the best with impulse control.

Dana was proof enough of that, even before everything changed.

And now Gabriella, too.

He lets his mind wander to her, far more willing to linger on the ache of grief and well-deserved guilt than any fresh hurt. A reminder of why he does the work he does, validation for why he keeps everything where it is, why he tries not to let the other Spiders get too close.

He’s royally shocked that last one up, that's for sure.

You hear about the new Miguel before you see him from small group passing you in the hallway where you’re waiting to ambush Peter and chew him out for yesterday’s antics. Secretly, you’re also there because you're curious about this other Miguel and want to get a look at him when he arrives, mostly because of your Miguel having been so firmly against you joining the recruiting team.

So you’re waiting, casually, just past the opening where the lobby opens out into the larger HQ, when you overhear them.

“He’s so much friendlier,” comes one Spider-Woman’s hushed voice.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen our Miguel smile so much,” a Spider-Man replies. “Even if it is with closed lips.”

They pass by, off to wherever they’re headed, and then you hear Peter’s voice approaching just around the corner.

“Yeah, whoever designed the place had a real one for architecture–”

You push yourself off the wall, turning on the ball of your foot to stand in the doorway and block his path.

“Peter.” You greet him with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, feet planted shoulder-width apart. You vaguely register Jessica Drew and the very, very tall familiar figure beside her, but you have your sights forcibly fixed firmly on Peter for now.

Play it cool.

“Oh, there’s Garden-Spider!”

“It’s just Spider,” you suppress a smile, rolling your eyes. “He likes to call me that because I have so many pla…” You turn your gaze to the new Miguel, voice dying in your throat.

The first thing you notice about the new Miguel is how similar—no, nearly identical he looks to the one you already know. His hair is slightly different, a lock of it falling across his forehead instead of pushed back. His suit is darker, more matte and black instead of blue, and he’s wearing sunglasses even though you're all indoors.

But none of that is what killed your sentence dead in its tracks. Because the second thing you notice is how when he sees you, he looks like he’s encountered a ghost.

Peter, of course, goes to introduce you two, waving off your comment about his nickname for you. “New Miguel, this is–”

New Miguel whispers your name in what can only be utter disbelief.

“Oh boy,” Jess says.

“Um,” you say dumbly, the confidence in your posture going a bit slack.

To his credit, the new Miguel seems to pull himself together fairly quickly. He closes his mouth, and you recognize a familiar twitch in his jaw muscle just before his throat bobs in a nervous swallow.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just—didn’t expect…” he gives an apologetic, borderline sheepishly wry smile, and you see a glint of sharp teeth—of fangs—and suddenly you understand his slight mumbling, why he doesn’t open his mouth too wide. “Figures that there’d be a version of you that’s the hero out here in the multiverse.”

You give a nervous, forgiving smile and hold out your hand. “Sorry. Earth-7723,” you introduce yourself.

He looks at your hand, eyes glancing back up at you behind his tinted glasses before he accepts it with his own.

“Miguel, but I’m guessing you already know the other me I’m hearing about. Earth-209.”

“Earth-209 in the year 2099,” you quip. “Fun.”

He lets loose the barest chuckle, more of an amused huff really, as if the tension in his body won’t let him laugh properly. If you weren’t so familiar with your Miguel’s body language you probably wouldn’t have even noticed. It feels strange, being able to read a complete stranger so well. You wonder if he’s having the same experience, and how well he knows the you from Earth-209—because clearly he does know another version of you—and you also wonder if it’s as strange for him as it is for you to see such a familiar face on a stranger.

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting go of your hand; his own falls to his side. “Very fun.”

“We should get you to the Boss’s lab and introduce you,” Peter says after glancing between the two of you.

Jess nods. “I agree. You probably have questions.”

“You’re not off the hook,” you say to Peter with a pointed finger, trying to dredge back up your earlier determined mischief, doing your best to set aside the dizzy surrealism and unbalanced feeling from the brief interaction with Miguel 209.

“What did I ever do to you?” Peter says as the group begins to pass.

“Oh, don’t play innocent after that stunt yesterday.”

“What stunt?” Jess asks, raising an eyebrow, starting to smile.

“Oh, he knows.” You mirror her expression with your own raised eyebrow.

“Nope, I don’t. Bye!” Peter waves, hurrying the group along.

“No, I wanna know what's got Garden-Spider out for revenge,” Jess says even as she walks off with the two men, giving you a wave and a smile.

You watch them go, your arms now more wrapped around your middle than crossed. The new Miguel, Miguel 209, turns to look at you over his shoulder like he needs to check that you’re real.

You give him your own small smile and lift a hand in your own little farewell wave—one that he returns with a matching and equally small smile and the ghost of something sad in his brow as he turns back to watch where he’s walking.

The circumstances under which you had met your Miguel were much different. Part of your story was actually quite similar to Gwen’s, and many other Spider-People: hiding your identity from those you love, balancing the two worlds until one encroached on the other, a full scale incursion that ended in more than one life ruined and at least one snuffed out. An unavoidable event by all accounts, according to Miguel’s theory of canon events and every article about grief and guilt and control that you’ve read since.

It turns out that when you have great power, and a great deal of self-appointed responsibility, the guilt stage is hardest to overcome.

Then your dimension had its first anomaly. A copper steam-powered Rhino had wreaked a path of destruction through the underground subway. It was a miracle that nobody was killed. Well, more accurately it was because of him that people were able to walk away with their lives.

Once the scene had cleared, the panic hit you, raw and fresh as the cracked rubble. Damaged walls brought to mind an image of an entirely different event featuring more structural damage and death. As a result, when he went looking for the Spider he had helped in order to invite them to join his effort to keep the worlds intact, he found you where you were crouched behind a cracked pillar. Your knees were to your chest, your head in your hands, and your breath ragged.

“Hey,” he said, voice low as he knelt on one knee in front of you, barely more than a foot and a half away. “It’s okay. You did it.”

You looked up at him, your hands still cradled your head and your eyes now wide under your mask.

He had a hand held out to you, stretched out in an offer to help with standing up.

You glanced at it, at him, back at the hand. With a sharp movement that seemed to startle even his apparently cool and collected self, your hand darted out and grasped his, squeezing tight. He began to stand. You shook your head, and he froze.

“Sorry,” you managed to gasp out. “I ju—“ a desperate gasp for air interrupted your words, but you managed to continue: “I just need a second.”

He settled back down onto his knee. His hand adjusted to hold yours more gently.

“Breathe,” he said gently.

You did. And then you said: “You have a cool suit. What’s your deal?”

“I— what?”

“Your— your suit,” you said with a shaky, breathy laugh. “I like it.”

He hummed, a quiet thoughtful sound. “Thank you.”

“What’s your deal?” You asked again. “You’re… like me. But I haven’t seen you before.”

Then he gently squeezed your hand, letting go to rest his arm on his knee.

“I’m from another dimension.”

You linger around Earth-928, wandering and pacing the criss-crossed beams of Spider-HQ, exchanging polite hellos with other Spider-People.

Word about the new Miguel—Miguel-209—the one you can only refer to with clarifiers in your head because he’s not your Miguel and you need to differentiate or you’ll feel even more off kilter than you already do, has spread fast.

“I can’t believe there’s going to be another Miguel around.”

“Do you think he’ll co-lead?”

“I wonder how similar they look.”

“I bet he’s just as serious.”

“Do you think he’s as much of a leader type, or nah?”

“I heard he’s just as built–”

You swing up to one of the little used alcoves, a little space that feels like a cozy waiting room or one of those places in that mall you had found yourself in when you visited California as a child, styled with almost too firm armchairs and potted plants that gave the quiet corner the illusion of being shielded from passersby.

That’s where Jess finds you, strolling into the space like her belly has no impact on her.

You offer her a slight smile and a glance in greeting, shifting in your window seat to face her better when she takes a seat across from you, hand resting on her stomach.

“I think you need to talk to Miguel.”

“Which one?” you can’t help it, your mouth quirking up at the corners.

She chuckles. “Well, probably both at some point. But I’d give the new one some time to… adjust.”

You nod, then nod again at her belly. “Looks like everything’s still going well?”

She nods, smiling. “Last check up went great. Ten fingers and toes, two eyes, the whole nine yards.” (You hold back the impulse to quip ‘Wow, that’s a big baby.’) She pauses, and then sighs. “Listen. I’m sorry about the meeting yesterday.” When you look at her with a questioning frown, she elaborates: “Peter told me you hadn’t gotten the schedule.”

You look down, picking at nonexistent dirt on your suit. This one is new, a remake after your previous one had gotten shredded in the road-rash incident. “It’s fine, really. Miguel probably assumed I was still on… medical leave.” The last two words come out more bitter than you had intended.

Jess just watches you. “Your hands doing okay?”

You shift slightly, pulling off your gloves to present your palms to her, and she leans forward to look properly. The skin still has a slight irregular shine from the fresh scars, but only if you know what to look for.

“Looking good,” she says, leaning back into her seat.

“Do you wanna get some food?” you blurt.

She raises an eyebrow, and then laughs in pleasant surprise. “Sure.”

You’re closer to Peter than you are to Jess, but it’s still nice to spend time with her outside of meetings and anomaly wrangling. She’s telling the story of when she first met Gwen.

“I can’t believe she called him ‘Dark Garfield,’” you laugh. “How have I not heard about this before?”

Jess laughs and shakes her head, adjusting her grip on her burger. “I’m as surprised as you are. I guess Gwen tries not to brag, or something.”

You nod. “She’s a great kid.” You sigh. “I worry about her sometimes, honestly. I can’t imagine being Spider-Woman, or man, or any of it, so young.”

Jess sombers. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

Miguel wonders how all the Peters do this, how they’ve all adjusted to being surrounded by alternate versions of themselves when it felt so strange for him just to be face to face with one of his own. It’s not that he didn’t know, not that he wasn’t aware of the other versions of himself in the multiverse.

He just didn’t expect to actually come face to face with one of his variants like this. One that was living. One that was also Spider-Man.

Miguel-209 had just left the lab with Peter following the latter's offer of a tour, leaving him alone in his lab with Lyla. He stands, hands braced against the console, head hanging low from his shoulders.

He pretends his chest doesn't feel tight.

“Do you think any other Miguels also-?”

“Lyla, please,” he cuts her off.

For once, she listens, falling silent.

Miguel takes a deep breath, pushing himself up on the exhale. “Did you add it to his file?”

“I did.”

Miguel nods. “Lock it.”

He doesn’t look at Lyla when she crosses her arms, creasing her brows under the pink glasses.

“It’s locked.”

He nods again, turning away further. One arm crosses over his chest, and much like when he paced the corner of the medical room a week ago, his elbow rests on his crossed arm and his fingers rest on his lips.

“They’re going to find out.”

“I know,” he says. “I know. And they should. But only from him. And I don’t need anyone else…” he trails off, unsure how the sentence ends. “It’s clearly private. For him,” he adds on at the end, gesturing his hand and resting his fingers back on his lips.

“And you trust Jess and Peter not to say anything?”

“Run daily reports,” Miguel says, changing the subject, lowering his arms to perch on his hips.

“You got it, boss.”

It had taken some very light convincing on his part (a portal) to get you to believe his story, and only slightly more after that (basic info on the multiverse and what he was aiming to do) to get you to join the Spider-Society.

Parker had been one of the first to welcome you, eventually dubbing you Garden-Spider when he visited your dimension and saw the greenery of your city, and more specifically, your apartment.

Then you hugged Miguel in his lab.

You still get embarrassed when you remember how the rest started. Another panic attack. More tears. You’d found that person’s shirt in your storage closet, and with nobody to call in your dimension who knew about both your lives, your first thought was him.

So you called. Not to ask for anything really, you’re not even sure why you did it. You suppose, if you think about it, your brain picked him as the most recent example of comfort and sympathy you’d experienced—though in the first month while getting to know him, those wouldn’t have been the words you would pick to describe Miguel O’Hara, even if they were now.

So, in a desperate grab for a lifeline, part of you had reached out before your conscious mind could stop the taps of your fingers.

“Is everything alright?” He asked when he answered, a holo-bust of his suit popping out of your watch.

“I—“ you gasped, trying to speak through your choked lungs. “I—“

“I’ll be right there.”

Not even fifteen seconds later a portal opened in your bedroom and Miguel stepped through. He crouched before you. “Are you injured?”

You shook your head, buried your face into your hands. “Sh-shit, n-no,” you managed to get out, and tried not to look at his thighs and the shape they made where they sat right in your line of sight. “I—Sorry—“

He didn’t say anything more, just moved closer and offered a hand as his mask receded. You nodded, and he rested it on your shoulder, eventually pulling you into a somewhat stiff hug, like he was trying to remember how they worked. Eventually he let go, once your breaths and tears had calmed.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Water,” you’d whispered, beyond mortified now that you had calmed down. “I can-“

But he was already up, leaving your room to find a cup for you. It took a minute, while he figured out your kitchen cabinets, but he returned with what you'd asked for.

“Peter’s right,” he said when he passed the cup into your hands. “You have a lot of plants.”

You laughed, then turned quiet, shy. “Thank you, Miguel. If… if you ever need…”

He nodded. “I appreciate that.”

It surprised both of you that it wasn't long before he called to cash in on your offer.

“Are you… Do you mind returning the favor again?” He asked through your watches, quoting you indirectly.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you’d replied after a millisecond of surprise. “I can be there in–”

“No. I mean–” he huffed a sigh. “Is it alright if I come there?”

Another second of surprise. “Oh, of course,” you repeated.

“Thank you.”

That happened a few more times, the two of you ‘exchanging favors’ of comfort and rest between regular days around Spider-HQ and missions across the multiverse.

Until one mutually grueling day came around and the exhaustion was too much for even your super-powered bodies, and Miguel had helped you home from a mission.

“Shock, I just–”

“Yeah. I need to fucking lay down,” you’d laughed tiredly, and eased yourself down onto your bed. You didn't even take your suit off; still smeared with soot and grime and a little bit of someone else’s blood.

He chuckled at that, running a hand over his hair. “Yeah.”

By then you had gotten halfway decent at keeping your eyes to yourself, glancing away from the muscles of his arm and the way they moved.

“Come on,” you sighed. You patted the space on the bed next to you, exhausted and already melted into your bed. “You look like you need it too.”

Even with your eyes closed you felt him hesitate. But you left it alone and folded your hands over your stomach, one ankle over the other, letting him decide for himself what he wanted to do.

The soft sound of your floor creaking let you know he was walking around to the other side of your bed. The gentle dip of the mattress let you know when he was sitting, and then the weight next to you accompanied by the sound of fabric told you that he had laid down by your side.

His quiet sigh when he had gotten comfortable told you that he had, in fact, needed it too.

That was the best night’s sleep you’d had in months.

It was for him too.

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#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #atsv x reader #x reader

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typingcorgi · 2 years ago

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sanctuary; part i

pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no y/n) warnings: tw for mention of blood, mild gore, violence. no smut yet but honey have you met me? it's coming (and so is joel, and you, ey-ohhhh) word count: 1600 author's notes: canon divergent aka no ellie I'm sorry kids cramp my style

i feel like this is 80% character study and 20% plot, but these ideas have been gnawing at me like a hungry ass clicker and i needed to get them out of my brain and onto a google doc. please feel free to reblog, share, leave a comment, tell me what you like, tell me what you want to see more of, I'm so excited to be writingggg also not beta'd so here we gooooo if there is a typo I'm sorry but please understand i dumped this onto the internet and didn't look back

The car you drive is a target on your back. It’s a good thing your partner in crime is such a quick shot.

You’re not even a fourth of the way to Wyoming, yet you’ve outrun and outdriven more thieves than you can count. It’s unsurprising, considering the dismal state of the world. You used to think more often about what life was like before Outbreak Day. Before New York shut down, before subway cars crashed below Canal Street and even the damn rats seemed to have greater control over their faculties than most human beings.

You couldn’t get out of the city fast enough.

It’s been twenty years, and while the memory of it all occasionally haunts you like a looming ghost, most of the time, you’re just thankful to be alive. And whether you like to admit it or not, your survival is owed to the man you think of now as your companion, your partner, your…something.

You just don’t know what he is to you, even if your impact on one another is indisputable.

You’ve hardened. Where you have grown a thicker skin, you’ve softened his, even if just by the smallest amount. You can see it in the way his eyes linger on you for a moment too long when you return from a run with a fresh cut or bruising eye. You can sense it in the way he talks to you like he’s toeing the line between wanting to respect your autonomy and independence and knowing he might tear the goddamn city apart if he were to lose you.

At least, you tell yourself that. It’s self-indulgent and flattering, because while you’ve spent years learning how to exist in this new and unsafe world, your understanding of human interaction and behavior hasn’t completely gone to shit. And Joel Miller behaves like cares about you.

“Turn here,” he says as you approach what probably used to be an intersection, but now appears to be a blurred line of a dirt path. Most paths are like that now. The only clearcut routes from any place to another are the main highways and frequently used roads, but those are so closely monitored by FEDRA that you don’t dare to cross them. No, you and your partner opt for the scenic route to Jackson, if only to spare your lives.

That is, if you aren’t taken out by clickers or thieves or gang members first.

You don’t say anything, you just keep driving, eyes locked on the path in front of you. It’s late afternoon and you must be driving west—good, you’re headed in the right direction, at least—because the setting sun glimmers along the horizon, and while you’d normally find such a sight to be one of the rare moments of beauty in this fucked up world, right now it’s downright annoying.

His eyes are locked on the road, or at least you think they are. You can’t tell because if you catch a glimpse of him in this golden sunlight, you might actually melt behind the steering wheel. So you keep your focus on the path before you while the radio plays in and out of static.

And then it happens so damn quickly. Joel yells at you to watch out! And his arm stretches out toward your side of the car, and his hand is on the steering wheel, jerking the car in a sharp motion toward the left.

You brace yourself for then inevitable crash. The muscles in your legs squeeze and freeze until you collect your breath, exhaling while your hands tighten along the steering wheel.

“What the fuck was that for!?” You demand, the shock filling your tone with more anger than you intended. Joel doesn’t say anything back. His breathing is heavy, though slowing to a more normal pace, and he scrubs a hand over his features.

You turn back and see nothing at first. But as soon as you spot the culprit through the truck’s rear view mirror, you’re stunned.

“A fucking deer?” You ask incredulously, spotting a doe picking her way through the brush. “Really, Joel?”

He’s softening.

“Could have damaged the truck,” he contests, voice considerably lower. “We’re already taking the long way to Cody Tower. I don’t need any more setbacks.”

You scoff but say nothing, replacing your foot into the accelerator and continuing your trek along the back roads.

It’s dark by the time you pull over. You’ll have to refuel first thing in the morning, though the source of said fuel is to be determined. Siphoning gas isn’t hard, but it’s tracking down another functioning automobile with an oblivious operator that’s the hard part.

You’ve started sleeping in shifts. The bench seat in the back is about as luxurious a bed as you’re going to get in the middle of the apocalypse. Somewhere along the line, you’ve managed to collect a flimsy blanket that does little by way of insulation, but at least it’s comforting.

Joel locks the doors while you settle into the back. He’s caught your eye in the rearview and you feel your stomach twist. Every night goes like this—he lets you sleep first, and you usually agree because you’re so fucking tired, but because he’s too damn polite to wake you up, you end up sleeping uninterrupted. He sneaks in sleep when you’re on the road the next day and he thinks you won’t notice.

“You know what?” You say, climbing back over the center console and into the passenger seat. He’s taken the driver’s seat in case you need to make a quick getaway overnight. “I’ll take the first watch. You sleep.”

He shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, really?” You arch a brow. “Because it seems like you need it. You look like shit, Joel.”

Now it’s his turn to scoff. “Excuse me if i don’t look my greatest at the end of the damn world.”

You hadn’t said that. Even when Joel looks absolutely exhausted, he still looks good. His rugged handsomeness isn’t lost on you, and for the first time all day, you actually look at him. You take him in. Moonlight catches along the graying ends of his unkempt hair, his wrinkles along the corners of his eyes are pronounced, and you eat it up like a woman starved. If you’re blushing, you’re thankful Joel can’t tell in the darkness, placing a comfortable distance between him and your growing vulnerabilities.

You hold up your palms in friendly defeat. “All I’m saying is I’m not tired yet. If you want the first round, I won’t complain.”

He doesn’t budge, though. And neither do you. You both wind up falling asleep in your respective seats once you are positive the other isn’t looking.

–

It’s not the clicking that wakes you up, though as soon as you’re half-conscious, you hear it right away.

Your stomach lurches. Fuck. When you’d pulled over hours earlier, you hadn’t noticed any semblance of life other than the deer you nearly ran over. But now, tired and bleary-eyed, you make out the deformed, eyeless head of something that used to be human.

There’s three of them, and they’re approaching your truck fast.

“Joel,” you urge, shaking his shoulder. “You gotta wake up. Joel, baby, we have to go.” The urgency in your voice hopefully outshines the petname you go with. You blame it on nerves, on the chance that this is the moment you and your partner actually fucking die. Baby. That is a choice. With any luck, Joel’s too drowsy for it to register.

He’s up like a shot, the strained, nearly silent cry from outside the truck jolting up into consciousness.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters, starting the truck and slamming his foot on the accelerator. One of the clickers narrowly misses colliding into your door. There’s less than a quarter of a tank left, though if you both don’t get out of here in one piece, that really doesn’t matter.

“I need you to shoot them,” Joel says over the roaring engine. He twists and turns in an attempt to lose them, but they’re on your trail, ganging up on you with each passing step.

You don’t challenge him, but you hesitate. His pistol is in the glove box, untouched since the last time you got into a dangerous situation—probably a day or two ago; every violent clash starts to bleed and blend together with the last.

“You can do it,” he says, though his tone is more urgent than encouraging . “They’re getting close. The closer your target, the easier it is to hit. Just do it—now!”

There’s no more time to waste. The clickers are a half step behind the truck. One of them places its grimy hand on the truck, holding on for dear life, if only to take yours.

Joel shouts your name to shock any remaining fatigue from every cell of your body. You do it—you reach for the gun in the glove compartment, lower your window just enough to hang your arms out of the side of it, cock the gun, and shoot.

Three fires. Three clean shots, each of the clickers blown back onto the dirt ground. Blood splatters on the side of the truck, some speckles across your forearm. Joel audibly exhales through his nose.

He keeps driving until you run out of gas.

#joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou hbo #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #no y/n

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omgkatherine01 · 2 years ago

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Dream Girl: Chapter 9 - Festival

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8, Chapter 10

Pairing: Neytiri x female reader

Please comment, like and share

They were coming today...

They should be here soon...

Whe--

"Ow," you muttered when a soft smack hit on your forehead, and you focused on Neytiri.

"You are out of focus," Neytiri scolded you yet there was an amused tone in her voice this time, "Again."

"I'm sorry," you said, "I'm just excited for Grace coming back. And to see my brother after a while, and hug him."

Neytiri nodded slowly before she spoke softly, "Do you trust them? Grace, your friend and brother."

You nodded, "Yes. Do you? I mean, do you trust Grace?"

She nodded, "Yes. I do. It is not her fault, what happened at the school."

"She feels terrible about that," you said quietly, "From what I saw, she blames herself."

"I blamed her, too, for many years," she admitted, "She is the one who told the other warriors where to find us. But now I do not blame her."

You frowned sadly, and after a moment, spoke up, "I'm going to tell you something... Grace, Norm, Jake and I, we work for a company,” I said slowly.

Neytiri tilted her head, "A company?"

"It's a--a group of people who are trying to make money," you told her.

"Grace told us about money," Neytiri said slowly, nodding, "She said it is very important on your home planet."

You nodded and shrugged slightly, "We need it to live."

Neytiri frowned, "What if someone does not have it?"

You shrugged, "Well, usually, they die. Sometimes, other people take care of them."

"Why not always take care of them?" Neytiri asked, tilting her head to the side, "If they need help, surely people help them."

You looked at her with a soft look, "Not always. But, that's not what I'm getting at." You cleared your throat and continued, "So we work for this company, and it's how we stay alive. But we also work for the company because they give us money and supplies to study Pandora."

"Study, like school?"

"Sort of," you said with a nod, "We're studying the plants and animals here to see what we can learn about them. We wouldn't be able to come here and study these things if we didn't work for this company. But soldiers--warriors--also work for the company. And the company is trying to make as much money as possible."

Neytiri was watching you closely, focused carefully on every word you were saying. Her expression was otherwise unreadable, though, and you had no idea how much she was really understanding.

"We have to tell the warriors what we are doing and they have to tell us what they are doing," you said softly, "So when Grace opened the school, she had to tell the company and the warriors what and where it was. She didn't lead the warriors there. They already knew where it was."

Neytiri stared at you silently for a moment before asking, "Why are the warriors here?"

"The company thinks you are dangerous," you said softly, "They think the Na'vi people are the only thing in between them and their money."

Neytiri's eyes grew wide in surprise and she frowned, "But, we do not care about their money."

"I know," you said as you placed a hand on her arm, "But the company... look, the unobtanium--the large floating rocks, that material--is very valuable on Earth. So they can take unobtanium from below the ground, ship it back to Earth, and... become rich."

Neytiri looked a little disgusted, "That is why they are going below the ground? Eywa says we must not use metals of the earth."

"I know, and the scientists don't agree with what the company is doing," you assured her, "Most of them don't, anyway. But we have to keep working with the company even if we don't agree with them, because otherwise…"

Neytiri's face fell and she finished softly, "You would not have money and they would not take care of you... and you would die."

You nodded slowly, "Pretty much."

Neytiri frowned again, "But, I do not understand. If the company does not like us, why do they have scientists?"

"They want to… look good to the people on Earth," You said, "If scientists find out good things about Pandora, then we can tell the humans back on Earth and they will not know that we are destroying your planet."

"So you work for money to live, and they let you work because they want people on Earth to like them," she said and you nodded lightly. "But they are cruel to Eywa because the metals of the earth give them money to live."

"That's the best I can explain it," you said softly.

Neytiri nodded slowly, "Grace did not tell the warriors where the school was... she told the company, and the company told the warriors."

"Yes," you said, relieved that she had understood.

Neytiri nodded slowly, gaze glazed over as she retreated deep into thought. Then she focused on something past your shoulder and her ears pricked up with excitement. She looked at you quickly and nodded behind you.

You both stood up and you turned to see what was happening.

Grace was walking into Hometree, with Jake and Norm following her. Na'vi were stopping to speak and stare at her as she passed, and it reminded you of your first time in Hometree.

Grace didn't seem to mind it, though. There was a giddy, childish grin on her face as she moved among the Omaticaya people, waving to adults and crouching down to smile at children.

You smiled and turned to Neytiri who stared at Grace. You gently took her hand, making her snap her gaze to you and you nodded to Grace, moving forward toward her and the children and dragging her with you.

You let go of her hand and she moved forward hesitantly. Grace didn’t share her awkwardness, though, and she made the gesture of greeting at Neytiri, "Oel ngati kameie, Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite." I see you, Neytiri of the Tskaha, daughter of Mo'at

"Oel ngati kameie, Grace Augustine," Neytiri said. I see you, Grace Augustine. Then she moved herself into closer and into Grace's arms.

Grace held her tightly, and when she met your gaze over Neytiri’s shoulder, her eyes full with tears. Thank you, she mouthed.

You smiled and nodded to her before you walked toward your brother and Norm. You smirked and nodded toward Mo'at, "Want to go and say hello?"

Norm nodded and placed his hand on your arm as he walked past quickly. You chuckled and turned your attention to Jake, "No funny business, right?" you asked, hopefully.

Jake gave you a small smile and nodded, "Right. It's good to see you, sis."

You smiled and reached over, throwing your arms around him, "It's good to see you too."

Neytiri and Grace were speaking quietly when they saw you and Jake hugging. Neytiri smiled softly, and looked at Grace, "She missed him." Grace looked at her. "Her brother."

"Yeah, they definitely missed each other," Grace said.

"We were in the middle of a language lesson, she is good, you have taught her well," Neytiri said.

Grace smiled as she looked from you to her. She tilted her head a little, her smile was smaller now but it was still there when she saw how she was watching you and your brother speaking with each other.

"I hardly recognized you there," Jake said with a small chuckle, "You look now like them."

"I'll take that as a compliment," you said with a small smirk and punched him gently on the arm.

"Ow," he teased as he grabbed his arm like you harmed him.

"Come on," you said with a laugh as you took his hand, and tugged him toward Neytiri and Grace. You cleared your throat, your smile was still on your lips, which made Neytiri smile a little.

"So, if you guys will excuse me, I have some people to see," Grace said, grinning. With a nod from you, she gave one last smile to Neytiri and walked away.

"Neytiri, I would like you to meet my brother, Jake," you introduced, "Jake, this is my friend, Neytiri."

Jake nodded, a flirting smirk on his lips, "Hey."

You rolled your eyes but your soft smile didn't disappear and it just turned to amused one, "Don't flirt."

"I wasn't flirting," he said as Neytiri looked between you two, an amused expression appeared on her face. "I was simply saying 'hey' to the young woman who's been looking after you since we were separated."

You nodded, humming with a little sarcasm, "Right."

Neytiri let out a laugh while Jake gave you a playful look. You looked to where Grace had headed off to, and the three of you watched her approaching Mo'at who was speaking to Norm foundly.

Everyone were quiet as they watched Mo'at turning her attention to Grace. Your breathing paused before you let out a breath when Mo'at held out her arms and embraced Grace into a warm welcoming hug.

Neytiri grinned and turned to you, and you smiled. There were calling from some of the Na'vies and you looked behind to see some of the people running off.

"We will be celebrating Grace's return and the welcoming of your brother and friend," Neytiri explained to you softly, "Come, we must go hunting."

You nodded and turned to Jake, "You stay by Norm's side, okay? Don't cause trouble."

"Wait, you're hunting?" Jake asked you with a small frown.

You nodded, "Yep. I'll see you later." Neytiri took your hand and gently tugged you to toward the direction the rest went to. You looked at Jake, "And I want to introduced you to someone when I'll get back."

Jake nodded, and with that you and Neytiri ran off.

After hunting, as the sun was setting you had brought Jake to meet your banshee, Stormi. You called out and a few seconds later, Stormi flew down, screeching which surprised your brother.

You approaching your banshee and petted him on the head, "Shh. Sìltsan, Stormi." Good, Stormi.

Jake smirked softly as he watched in awe the big beast calm and purring with your gentle petting. "This is my banshee," you said softly and looked at your brother, "I named him Stormi."

"Not bad," he said.

You chuckled softly, "Come on over, big bro, he won't bite. Not while I'm around you."

"Good to know," he said as he approached closer. You watched at Stormi's side as Jake reached his hand forward. Stormi gave a small hissing but as you continued to pet him, he let your brother approach. Jake slowly placed his hand on the side of Stormi's head, and he let out a breath he didn't realized he was holding.

Jake then let out a chuckle of surprise and he grinned as he looked at you. You grinned back at him and chuckled as you petted Stormi again, "Sìltsan, Stormi." Good, Stormi.

You heard Neytiri calling for you and you let Stormi fly off for now before you turned to you brother, "It's time, come on." You grabbed his hand and tugged him to lead him back.

When you reached back to the village with Neytiri, everyone started to celebrate.

The central space is lit by a bonfire, around which the hunt festival massive sturmbeest ribs. Neytiri started to dance in a flowing costume while a few Na'vies danced circling her.

Your eyes and Neytiri's met as you sat with Jake, Grace and Norm, and a few others.

Your eyes darted to Tsu'tey and you tensed a little as he approached closer and sat next to you. Two Na'vies were following him carrying something, it was bowl of some kava-like, and they placed it down.

"Oh man," Grace said as she looked at it, slightly amused.

You frowned lightly and Tsu'tey held up the kava bowl, offering it to you. You took it, and after a few seconds you took a long, hearty drink as some of the young hunters hoot and clap hands in a fast rhythm, even more when Tsu'tey joined in on the drinking.

Grace chuckled softly as she watched you and Tsu'tey drinking together. She quickly took the other bow from Norm's hands when he tried to drink, "Watch that stuff. It'll knock you into next week."

But then she took a drink, making Jake and Norm laugh.

After you and Tsu'tey finished drinking, he finally grinned while everyone cheered. The rest of the party left to join the others while you were left with Tsu'tey, with Grace, Norm and Jake not far from you.

"I guess it is a start of a beautiful friendship," you joked with a small smirk.

"It is seems that I had thought wrong of you," he admitted, "Neytiri is right about you... you are not like other Sky People." He looked into the fire and you followed his gaze. But then you looked up to the skull of the great Leonopteryx.

The fire light was lighting the skull, it seemed to be alive.

Staring right at you.

"Your warriors hide inside machines fight from far away," Tsu'tey continued after a pause, and you broke away from staring at the skull to look at him. His gaze from the fire moved to look at you. "I did not think a Sky Person could be brave."

His compliment caught you off guard, and when you opened your mouth to speak, your voice was caught when Neytiri ran closer.

She grinned down at you and grabbed your hand, "You must dance."

You shook your head quickly, "No, I--"

She cut you off, smiling, "It is the way."

Your eyes quickly darted to Tsu'tey, who's soft expression disappeared. You opened your mouth to tell Neytiri that maybe Tsu'tey would like to join her, but she tugged your hand and pulled you up to your feet.

"Okay," you said softly.

"Come on," she said, chuckling. She grinned again as you quickly turned and grabbed Grace's hand and pulled her quickly up to her feet.

Grace was startled while Norm and Jake laughed. "Whoa, wh--I'm a scientist!"

"Suck it up," you said, finally smiling.

Neytiri laughed as she pulled both of you closer to the others, and you and her gently pulled Grace into the group. You quickly turned and rushed to your brother and Norm, quickly pulling their hands and tugging them up to their feet.

"If I'm in, so are you!" you said with a grin as Norm laughed.

You pushed them gently to the group and you turned to Tsu'tey. You held out your hand for him to take, and he looked from it to your face. You gave him a small smile, hoping he won't tell you were nervous if he was going to reject it after what just happened.

But you were relief when he took your hand and got up. You grinned at him and pulled him gently with you to the group.

Neytiri turned to you and grinned as she grabbed your hand again, pulling you by her as you gently let go of Tsu'tey's hand.

Taglist:

@ara-a-bird, @imthefunniestpersonalive, @mistyyyy, @lovelyspecs, @octavias-next-meat-bite, @redwitchredspeedster, @fanboyluvr, @simp-erformarvelwomen, @maxinej, @smol-book-nerd, @philiasoul, @lisajeongyeon, @stupendousbananajudgeshark, @danielyharstom, @jakesullyssluttt

#avatar 2009 #avatar series #neytiri imagine #neytiri x avatar reader #neytiri x fem!reader #neytiri x reader #neytiri x you #neytiri x y/n #jake sully imagine

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real-life-senshi · 9 months ago

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hellow, i hope so far you´re doing ok since i saw you were struggling a bit with your health. though i'm quite new to your content i finally got the time to check some of your writings, i'd say i ended pretty hooked on them ahsfgsdjhs, tbh i'm not much of a fic reader of anything at all, specially since i don't think i have seen anything sailor moon related since my teens lmao. But i still wanted to let you know that i'm glad i have found it, as i tried to recall some about the pgsm plot (there's a chance i must have ended rewatching it ahsjhdsj and my gosh there were so many subtle things i missed 'cause i watched it when i was quite young haha) there were some other things that came to my mind that i wish were explored on the series, curiously most of it i found it on your fics 🤣 (i really like the way you expanded the pgsm characters through your stories) there were even some parts when i could 100% visualize them, may i have randomly doodle some stuff, who knows(?, oh! and your drawings as well, i saw this one about the Final Act *chef kiss*👌

There are other things i'd like to comment but i don't want to spoil anything as in Ao3 there are only 6 of the rest unlike the other fic site; i'm a big fan of the V manga (it's probably the one i sometimes read to remind myself why Minako is one of my fave characters ever! though my 11 year old self would disagree cause was obssesed with Manga/tokusatsu Mars😂 ) and also the continuity of the past life lore, whether if at some point in a near future as long as you're doing ok, please take care, for real. I'm looking forward to stay tuned if there's anything new from you 🙌

omg omg omg omg!!!!

You are the sweetest! 🥹Thank you for dropping by and leaving this lovely message in my inbox. Your keyboard smashing makes me go askdfhdsafdk as well! It's the highest praise one can give me. LOL😂

And jfc your amazing EoT based art? And there's potentially more doodles???? I can't believe that's happening to one of my stories. It's just not something I thought would ever be possible I don't even know what else to say except for repeating 'thank you' x10000 time.

Your message definitely encouraged me to finish chapter 7 instead of stalling some more. Made my week knowing one more person enjoys my attempt at writing a sequel. <3 My plan for the story is so ambitious sometimes I wonder if I'll be able to finish it. I even have plans to write a past life prequel and hope to do a bridging Black Moon story before introducing a Mugan arc sequel to EoT... That's 3 more stories total... and right now writing at a snail's pace, I don't know if that's ever possible... :'(

I'm finally on the road to recovery so it's getting easier for me to sit in front of my laptop for hours on end again. I've been mostly using video games to distract myself from the discomfort coz I can easily change positions while holding the console with no problem. With a laptop... there's a limitation with the keyboard for writing and the mouse for drawing. (LMAO I still use a mouse to draw. Never learnt to properly use a drawing tablet, even though I bought one long ago it just gathering dust now...)

Yeah... I think I peaked with the final act illustration when it comes to fanart. lol Knowing I did manage to make something with a quality that even surprised me, I've been overthinking and overcomplicating all the new ideas I want to do and then my brain and hand freeze and things are left as wip. 🙈

I'm really glad you enjoy my blog content. I practically owe my life to PGSM, I Iove the series with my whole being, cheesiness and faults and all. So it makes me really happy when my blog can help introduce or reignite interest in the series for other people! <3

I hope you don't mind me posting this reply instead of responding privately. I want to keep your message archived on my blog coz I love it so much. <3

#killanarcisse #khmyh replies

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queen-of-the-avengers · 11 months ago

Text

Iron Man: Part One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (implicitly)

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Tony never made anything easy. He had a rough childhood growing up, especially with Howard as a father. Yes, you feel bad for leaving Earth when you did. You didn't have to go. You could have stayed and you would have been with Howard to help him look for Steve. Would he be alive if you stayed?

Gaining Tony's trust wasn't gonna be an easy task, but you tried your fucking best.

The Howard you knew was gone and had been replaced by someone who was hard on his kid. He held Tony to a high standard that you've never seen a parent do, always expecting him to do better than everyone else. Yes, Tony went to MIT at the age of fourteen and graduated college at age seventeen but he's not a robot. Howard sees greatness and expects it all the time, and he doesn't stop to think about what his son would have wanted.

"Son of a bitch!" Tony yells and slams his bedroom door.

You're taking a shower in his bathroom since the one at your house is being renovated, so you quickly finish up and slap on some clothes. You open the bathroom door to see Tony pace the length of his room. The balcony doors are open and a nice breeze comes through cooling your heated skin from the shower.

"Tony, are you okay?" you ask carefully.

"No! It's my fucking father!"

"What did he do?"

"I try to give my thoughts about the weapons he's creating but it seems like no matter what I do, he never wants to listen. It's always, 'You can do better than that, son' or, 'You went to MIt. You should be better, Tony'. I'm sick and tired of him always saying shit like that."

What the hell happened to Howard when you were gone? You tried to catch up on Howard's life throughout the years but he purposely kept his parenting out of it. It's weird to see and hear Howard in this life when he was a complete sweetheart to you back then. He loved helping people and wouldn't stop working on inventions that would better people's lives. He often would talk about how excited he'd be for when he finally had a kid, how loved that kid would be.

"Your father is a complicated man," you tried to find the right words.

"Yeah, tell me about it," he scoffs and sits on his bed.

"Tony, listen to me," you sit next to him on the bed and take his hand, "I don't know what life was like growing up with him. I can't wonder what might have happened if I were here but I'm here now and you're not alone. You're a smart kid. Your father was building flying cars much later in life than you are now. You have potential and talent, don't let it go to waste. You don't owe your father anything, but if you need to, then show him just how much of a genius you really are."

"Thanks," Tony sighs. "Were you using my shower?"

"Mine's being renovated. What, you don't want me using your shower?"

"No. Just next time, let me know," he smirks.

"You wish," you laugh and get up from the bed. "You couldn't handle me, Stark."

Tony had a weird way of doing things but you tried your best to be there for him, even after his parents died in 1997. They were on their way to the Bahamas for a vacation when Howard wanted to stop by the Pentagon and deliver a redeveloped serum that was used on Steve back in the 40s. He must have been working on something big since you never got your hands on that serum or knew where it ended up. Their death surrounding that serum is a bit suspicious but an accident nonetheless.

Howard's lifelong friend and business partner, Obadiah Stane welcomed Tony into the family business to pick up where Howard left off. Tony was the designer, Obadiah was the idea person, and you were supporting your good friend from the sidelines. You've seen a lot of weapons in your days so you tried to give your input here and there that Tony so graciously accepted. He loved the spotlight just like his father, but you'd rather stay in the background and behind the scenes.

By the time Tony was in his late thirties, you'd been with him for nearly twenty years. Your relationship blossomed as much as it could without ever stepping over the "friendship" line. Tony is a great man but you're still hung up on your exes to be in a relationship with someone new. One died and the other is somewhere in this universe helping planets win their wars. Carol still has a big place in your heart you're not sure is going to get filled, but you know eventually you'll reunite with her. Maybe then you can figure out if she is the one for you. Bucky was supposed to be the one if he hadn't died. Even still, he would have died from old age by this time anyway, but you don't like to think about stuff like that.

Bucky is and will always be the greatest love of your life. You gave him a decade of love, passion, and adventure. All those memories are for your eyes only, and they're often what keeps you up at night. Alongside Bucky is this black hole where someone used to be, someone who you held to the same standard as Bucky, someone who you loved just as deeply as him. You're not sure who it is since your memory becomes hazy whenever you think too hard about it.

Jet-black hair. Tall with a slim frame. That's all you can see when you think about him. He kind of reminds you of what the Supreme Intelligence looked like before he tried to kill you and keep you prisoner on Hala.

Maybe one day you'll get the answers you're seeking, but today is not one of them.

Tony's been stuck at the casino all day betting, winning, ad losing everything he has. He became a multi-billionaire when his father died, and he's been reckless with money ever since. Everyone around him is hanging onto his every word, two girls are hanging off his arms, the men around the table and cheering for him to win, and you're standing in the back with your arms crossed just watching this happen.

Howard wouldn't be impressed.

"Work it!" Tony yells and rolls the dice at one of the casino games.

The reason he's even at this stupid casino is because he won an Apogee award. The Tampa Bay Business and Wealth Magazine recognizes and awards individuals who are dedicated to their industries like Tony is to Stark Industries.

"How long has he been at this?" Happy asks when he gets to you.

Happy Hogan is Tony's bodyguard and trusted friend. There is nowhere that Tony goes that Happy doesn't follow.

"All day."

"You are unbelievable." You turn to see James Rhodes walk over with an angry look on his face. "Where the hell have you two been?"

"He's been at this all day," you sigh.

"Tony, did you forget something?" Rhodey asks and taps on your best friend's shoulder.

"Just how much money I've won," he laughs.

"Yeah, you remember the Apogee Awards? They told me that if I presented you with an award, you'd be deeply honored."

"Of course, I'd be deeply honored. So, when do we do it?"

"It's right here. Here you go," Rhodey says and hands Tony the award he accepted earlier in the night.

"There it is. That was easy."

"I'm sorry, Rhodey. I tried to get him to leave earlier."

"It's fine. Obadiah saved his ass this time."

"Wow! Would you look at that? That's something else. I don't have any of those floating around," Tony scoffs and hands the award over to you. He slides a shit ton of chips into the middle and grabs the two red dice. He looks to the woman on his right and holds his hand out. "Give me a hand, would you? Give me a little something-something." The woman smirks and blows on his hand, and he moves his fist to Rhodey who is not amused. "Okay, you too."

"I don't blow on a man's dice."

"Come on, honey bear." Rhodey knocks the dice out of Tony's hand and right onto the table. "There it is. Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes rolls!"

"Two craps. Line away," the dealer says when Tony doesn't get the winning number.

"That's what happens," Rhodey shrugs.

"Worse things have happened. I think we're gonna be fine."

Tony gathers his winnings as if he needs the money and starts to walk toward the entrance to the casino. You're on his right, Happy is on his left, and Rhodye is just trying to catch up.

"This is where I exit," Rhodey says and shakes hands with Tony. "Tomorrow, don't be late!"

"I will make sure he is there on time," you promise.

You, Tony, and Happy walk to the car that's waiting but before Tony can get in, someone calls his name. You turn and see a blonde woman trying to get through but is stopped by security.

"Mr. Stark! Excuse me, Mr. Stark! Christine Everhart with Vanity Fair magazine. Can I ask you a couple of questions?"

"Is she hot?" Tony whispers to Happy.

"Yeah, she is."

You roll your eyes just as Tony turns to face her. The two security guards let her through once they see Tony is okay with this.

"You've been called the Da Vinci of our time. What do you say to that?" she asks Tony and pushes her recorder in his face.

"Absolutely ridiculous. I don't paint."

"What do you say to your other nickname? 'The Merchant of Death'?"

"That's not bad. Let me guess, Berkley?"

"Brown, actually."

"Well, Ms. Brown, it's an imperfect world but it's the only one we've got. I guarantee you, the day weapons are no longer needed to keep the peace, I'll start making bricks and beams for baby hospitals."

"Rehearse that much?"

"Every night, in front of the mirror before bedtime."

"I can see that," she chuckles. "All I want is a serious answer."

"Okay, here's serious. My old man had a philosophy, 'Peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy'."

"That's a great line coming from the guy selling the sticks."

"My father helped defeat the Nazis." Yeah, alongside you and Steve. Your shoulders sag at the memory of him. "He worked on the Manhattan Project. A lot of people, including your professors at Brown, would call that being a hero."

"A lot of people would also call that war profiteering," she counterargues.

"Tell me, do you plan to report on the millions we've saved by advancing medical technology or kept from starvation with our intelli-crops? All those breakthroughs are military funding, honey."

"Do you ever lose an hour of sleep your whole life?" she asks and cocks her right eyebrow.

"I'm prepared to lose a few with you."

Tony turns to you and raises both his eyebrows in silent question. You live with Tony now and he doesn't want you in the house, not that you'd want to stay and hear their porn set.

"I'll catch up with you guys later. You two enjoy yourselves."

There is an Air and Space Museum located in Downey, California which is only an hour's drive from where Tony's house is. After World War I, all air and space museums had some sort of space dedicated to the work you and Steve did for your country. The largest section is located in Washington DC but you're not going to go there at this time of night. With your aerokinesis powers, it only takes you twenty minutes.

The museum is close to closing but they still let you in when you hand them a wad of money for a ticket. This museum has a lot of great stuff for people to see but you're only here for one thing and one thing only. Steve's section is located in the back where there are only a few people left finishing their self-tours.

It's a small section that shows Steve's face, your face, and Bucky's face. Beside each picture is a small snippet of the work you did and how it contributed to your country. The one in Washington DC has mannequins with outfits you used to wear, Steve's old stage outfit, a lot more information on what happened, and videos of the kind of people you three were. It seems like no matter who talks about what happened, you three are the sole focus.

After all, it was Bucky who died trying to capture the enemy, and it was you and Steve who saved New York from a bomb.

You sit down right in front of the exhibit and look at your boyfriend's black-and-white face. In your eyes, he's still yours because he doesn't feel gone. Nine hundred years on this Earth and no one has ever made you feel the way Bucky has. Losing Steve only made that hole wider. Carol took that spot but wasn't able to fill the entire hole.

"How am I supposed to do this without you?" you whisper to Bucky's picture.

The memory of you being on that train is still fresh as if it happened yesterday and not sixty-six years ago. Sixty-six years ago. Will you ever find peace about what happened? Will you ever be able to move on? When the employees do their initial sweep around the museum to kick everyone out, that's when you leave. It's well into the night which means Tony and Christine should be done with whatever they're doing.

You get to your home in the middle of the night but Jarvis recognizes you as soon as you open the door. The place is dark and quiet just how you hoped it would be. Christine's clothes are scattered across the floor along with a few articles of Tony's. You head to your room and lay on the bed in silence. It takes an hour to fall asleep into a dreamless night.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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celestie0 · 4 months ago

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🪷 I have been summoned. ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲.

These guys will never give up on the horny agenda will they 😭 it's been months wallahi I still remember the last time you got asks like these and like..okay I get it everyone gets horny occasionally but there's several stories that will cater to your needs of the moment. Hell just search up the tags #(insert character) smut and you'll get that shit.

I don't think the anon meant it in a pushy way but seriously on your end I can't even imagine the pressure it must put on you. Like imagine tens of people sending you stuff like this, then on top of that the cunts who send hateful, catty asks over STORIES and HEADCANONS. I'm actually so sorry dude. Forget about touching grass these people need a shot of chlorophyll injected straight to their bloodstream.

I think so much of this brain rot is because as a reader the effort isn't that significant on our end. 15-20 mins of reading and maybe a like or comment if necessary and that's all. As the writer on the other hand? So many hours spent in just coming with ideas, even more hours trying to articulate said ideas and make it coherent and fun to read, even more hours editing that stuff. Whew bitch. I remember why I gave up on my blog now 😭 but back to the point it's a major imbalance of effort and time put into the work from the parties. And after a point these people start feeling like they are owed their own specific fantasies and needs and it's just..girl I get it it's a self insert y/n fic but dj your kitty and go back to sleep instead of pestering an already tired and anxious writer.

You're god's strongest soldier Elliebear we love you. You and all the writers who put so much love and effort into your work only to get stuff like this in return.

HIIIII lilypad anon omg hope you’re doing well <33 also every time i read one of your asks i’m always reminded of how fucking funny you are 😂 the chlorophyll line sent me to the moon bahhaha. tysm for always coming to my support n rescue 🥺💕

AAA yea ikk like the fuckin kickoff smut asks too like bruh. i understand that i get new followers periodically that haven’t seen my posts addressing my issue w these types of asks, but like?? is it not also just basic decency? lol. i’ve been reading fanfics since i was like 12 y/o and i’ve never sent an author a rude asf ask or pushy comment like that…i can’t always keep giving these ppl the benefit of the doubt.

yea i mean i felt really awful when i responded to that ask about an hour after all my anger subsided lolol, because i can acknowledge that it’s not just the anger towards that particular anon, but also just a combination of all the asks i’ve gotten that just want smut. like, i’m ALREADY self conscious about writing smut, and i’m ALREADY self conscious about the lack of smut in my fics. these asks just make those feelings of anxiety increase ten-fold, and then i become too paralyzed to write anything.

yes i 100% agree w you, there’s definitely an imbalance of effort and i think the way you put it is perfect lol i could never put that thought into words the way you did haha. although it’s ultimately my decision to write and i’d never pressure ppl to interact w my work, i think because there is inherently such an imbalance of effort, some entitled readers suddenly think that they are OWED my time and OWED their hyperspecific fantasies to be included in my fics.

idk i’m like kinda getting carried away here i’m also pms’ing so bad i think that’s why this whole situation is messing me up more than usual 😂 but anywho thanks so much for supporitng me lilypad bb :(( i’m so grateful to have you as a reader. and yes! i’ve seen similar situations w my writer moots as well, so all the love extends to them too. i think writers really need to stand up for ourselves more often so these ppl fuckin learn n don’t do the same shit w other authors or in other fandoms

much love <3 ellie 🐸

#🪷 anon #asks #support

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pagesofangels · 2 years ago

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🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

That's a bit difficult to say, as I feel like I've never been successful enough in fanfic or writing in general (y e t) to warrant giving advice.

I started writing fanfic around age 11 or 12, and if someone of that age came up to me and asked for advice about fanfic writing, I think I would tell them this:

1.) Listen to constructive criticism!

Holy shit, I cannot say this enough. If you're going to improve as a writer, you MUST listen to feedback.

I understand critique hurts. It's embarrassing, even if the person giving you feedback is saying it in the nicest way in the world.

As a reader, I'm rather blunt in things I think need improvement -- and as a fanfic reader there have been times in the past I was too blunt -- but I've never commented with the intention to harm. I have always given *requested* feedback with the intention of giving the writer tools to work with.

There have been times in fandom where an author explicitly requested constructive feedback from me, but their idea of 'concrit' was praise and praise only. You cannot invite constructive feedback and only expect praise.

But, also:

2.) You don't need to listen to ALL criticism!

Yep, going against what I just said, it is up to YOU as the AUTHOR to choose what goes into your story. Just because someone says they think something in your story should be changed or removed, you do NOT need to do it.

But, also ALSO:

3.) For the love of God, DO NOT fight your critics!

This goes quadruple for younger writers. No matter what anyone says about your story, do NOT fight them! Fighting a critic is the one thing that can and WILL ruin a writer's reputation. Even published authors who make money on their books have done this and lost the respect of a large swath of potential customers.

Never argue why their opinion is wrong.

Never say "x many people like this so you're invalid".

Never sic any of your fans or friends after them.

As my writing professor told us during workshops: When you are receiving feedback on your writing, you sit down and you shut up.

Why not fight them? Because:

A.) If they're a troll, you're giving them the reaction they want by getting upset.

B.) If they're trying to help you by giving constructive feedback, you just spat in their face and wasted their time and effort (especially if you asked them for feedback).

C.) If they paid money to read your work (use your Patreon, bought the book, backed it on Kickstarter, etc.) they can be as big of an ass as they want in their feedback because they already gave you their money. They don't owe you praise after paying hard-earned cash, because if they end up not enjoying it that money is essentially wasted. But remember, you don't even need to read these because the book is already completed and not going to change anymore.

D.) You can discredit them in your own head as much as you want. Are they wrong about this character's motives? Did they misread your intentions with a plot twist? Haha! How stupid of them! This will make such a funny thing to vent about in private to your friends/family/beta reader/agent!

______________________________________

So...yeah, that. I would...I would tell them that.

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mixelation · 9 days ago

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I agree with most of these points, but I want to give a sort of "yes, and..." addition, which is that I do think there are some people who write entirely for engagement and that's okay. When I first started writing fic, my motivation was that I wanted to see if other people liked my ideas. I obviously liked my own ideas, but to me, the point of moving them from my head onto paper was so I could share them with others. (Now I largely use writing as a way to organize and explore my ideas, and getting compliments is more like a fun bonus.) I am not inside the heads of random people online, but I have seen people asking questions about writing fic as if what they seek is readers to tell them that they like their fic, rather than writing a story they personally care about. So I would guess that engagement is the primary motivator for these people.

I wanted to emphasize that I do think this is some people's primary motivator, because then the part where you would just give up and delete your fics because you weren't getting comments makes more sense. I do not think that writing and posting fic without learning to extract some personal satisfaction from it is sustainable, but at the same time, I'm not going to stand on a soap box and tell people what they are or are not allowed to try and get out of their own writing practices. If you literally just want the compliments, then by all means, you do you. My personal advice would be not to hitch your self esteem or your appreciation for your own art to getting said compliments, but also that's just my opinion as someone who's been writing for a while. I think we do need to make room in our community for people who literally just want nice comments, because they're here and they're also on their own journeys with their writing. Maybe they will peter out and quit or maybe they will learn to engage with their own art in a new way, but they have every right to be posting fic and talking about it. This approach to writing fic is also not new; it used to be common to withhold new chapters unless X number of comments was achieved. I do personally find it a bit immature, but also lots of people start off like this, and that's fine.

All that being said, I do STRONGLY dislike the discourse about "fic economy" and how reading but not commenting is hurting fandom and blah blah blah. It's fine to feel disappointed that you are not getting the comments you want, and it's fine to articulate your disappointment, but also no one owes you anything just because you posted something. No one is entitled to comments on their fic.*

*disclaimer because every time i post about this someone jumps on me: i do think engagement/a comment is "owed" in it is the POLITE thing to do if you have in some way requested the fic. for example, you sign up for a gift exchange or you intentionally signed your name to a prompt. but the act of clicking on a fic and then reading it is not some sort of economic exchange where now you simply must leave a comment as payment?

There's a genre of post that I see pretty frequently, which can overall be summed up as, "Modern fandom has a culture problem where fanfic authors are treated as content producers instead of community members and their fanfic is treated as a commodity to be consumed instead of a high-effort labor of love that deserves attention and compliments given directly to the author". I agree with 3/4ths of that. I find the part I disagree with very interesting, the same way I find a lot of writeblr interesting, because it's a perspective that I had to work very hard to actually understand.

Because the posts have such a warped view of what writing is and why we post our writing! They say that fanfic fights against the commodified internet we live in, but all they're doing is changing the currency of payment in this attention economy. Another way you can summarize about 70% of these posts is, "My payment for writing and posting my fanfiction is compliments, and if you do not give me those compliments you are not paying. If you give those compliments behind my back, or talk about them privately without giving them to me as well, then you are stealing from me." I don't want to put it like that, but a lot of these posts use words like 'deprive', as if the reader who enjoys the fic without commenting is withholding something from them that they deserve. They use the word engagement, and they do talk about how part of that engagement is just the joy of talking about AUs and ships with other people, but when people say that comments are their motivation to keep writing, what they mean is that validation is their motivation to keep writing. Which is compliments.

I understand that, because I understand that fanfic writers are not immune to the attention economy. But I don't understand how almost every one of these posts talk about how this lack of attention makes them stop writing - that this act of theft is killing their desire to write. I could understand this if they meant 'desire to POST fic' (I don't post fic I think zero people would read.), but they talk about how lack of payment stops them from writing at all.

IMHO, that is what creates a commodity from fic. People want to treat fic as art, but an artist makes art for themself. Art is made because we want to hold parts of skills and ourselves in our hands. If you won't make art if you get no payment, then you have devalued the art completely.

We think of AO3 as this unique site that's born entirely from passion and is filled with fics written for love of the game. But guilt-tripping posts that shame people for not commenting on a fic they enjoy, and that describe how there's no point in writing fic if it's not getting attention, are directly contributing towards the culture of treating fic like a commodity.

I also really want a fandom culture where the relationship between artist and reader is reciprocal, where it feels like a community, and where I get to talk about my fanfic with people. My favorite part of posting fanfic is rambling about it on my blog, because I can talk about my art all day and I love it when people stop and listen. But I love that because I love my own art. If you love your own art, then it'll always have value.

Also Google your username, just trust me, that's how you find The Secret Discussions. Someone made a TikTok fansong of me once. WHAT?

#also if you delete your fic because you didn't get comments #then you will definitely never get any comments #i don't super get this argument. i get deciding you don't actually like a fic and wanting to remove it but like #what?#mixed bag

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