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justagalwhowrites · 5 months ago

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Halcyon - Ch. 13: You’re Not What I Would Call Nurturing

Anna gives birth and caring for a newborn is even harder than you expected. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 12, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild near smut, non-graphic depiction of childbirth, childcare struggles. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 8.7k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

April, 2018

Gale had been holed up in his home office since you got home and your excitement was starting to exhaust your patience.

He liked to have his space when he was writing. Then, so did you, and he respected it. Well, usually respected it. You did your best to do the same. But it had been hours now. You’d resigned yourself to having dinner alone, setting aside a plate for him, and waited for Gale to emerge so you could talk to him. It hadn’t happened, not even to use the bathroom or get a glass of water.

You set your book on your legs, rapping your fingers along the cover of it and worrying at your lip. You really didn’t want to sit here, holding everything in, any longer.

You put in your bookmark and set the novel you’d barely been able to pay attention to aside, going to the kitchen for a bottle of sparkling water and a protein bar to bring your husband.

“Hey you,” you smiled, peeking into his office after knocking once on the door. He glanced up from his desk, brows raised, head bent so low you could see where his hair was thinning.You came all the way into his office, walls lined with bookshelves and surfaces stacked high with paper. You held up the water and protein bar like an offering. “I haven’t heard you come out in a while and it’s getting late. Thought you should eat at least something tonight.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking back down at the pages in front of him. You took it as permission to come closer, so you did, setting the food down next to his computer before perching on the edge of his desk. You crossed your ankles in front of you and held onto the desktop, rapping the underside of it with your fingernails in a sharp rhythm.

Gale sighed, setting the page he was reading down and crossing his arms on his desktop, leaning on it before giving you a small smile as he looked up at you.

“Something on your mind, baby doll?” He asked, brows raised, looking like he was trying his best to restrain his amusement.

“Maybe,” you teased a little, not able to stop the smile on your face. “Remember how I had that doctor’s appointment earlier today?”

“Think so,” he frowned. “Why? Did everything go well?”

“It went great,” you smiled. “I actually… well, instead of it just being a check up, I asked her to check for a few things…”

Gale frowned further before he took the bait.

“Check for what?” He asked.

“Check and see if I’m in a good place to have a baby,” you tried to keep from acting too excited about it but you were. You were practically giddy. “She said everything looked good. Great, in fact. And… well, I was thinking… you have that sabbatical coming up in, what, two years? Wouldn’t it be great if we could spend it together? I can take some time off, my book should be well and launched by then, you can work on your next book and we can spend a lot of time just you, me and… and a baby.”

He watched you for a moment, an almost amused look on his face before he laughed a little.

“Are you being serious?” He asked.

“Yeah,” your smile faltered a bit. “Yeah, I figured that… you know, we’re not getting any younger, we’re at a good spot career wise, my body is apparently in prime baby making territory…”

“Sure, the timing is great if we were going to do it but,” he laughed once and shook his head, turning his face to his lap for a moment before looking back to you, a serious expression on his face. He took your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but… Do you really think having children is a good idea for you?”

You couldn’t stop your smile from falling this time, eyes searching his.

“What?” You asked quietly.

“Honey, just…” He sat back a little and sighed. “Look. You’re… I love you. That’s why I married you and you’re an extraordinary woman in so many ways. You make me the best possible version of myself and I’m grateful for that every day but… You’re not what I would call nurturing.”

You frowned.

“But…”

“It’s not a bad thing, necessarily,” he said, as though you hadn’t spoken at all. “You’re just far more concerned with what’s in your head or on the page than about something like children. Do you really think you’d do a good job with a child? Be honest with yourself. Do you think you’d be able to make the sacrifices necessary and put them first? Or would you fail and make them pay the price? And then there’s everything with your mental health - we both know how you can get sometimes and you clearly got it from your mother - I doubt you want to pass that on to a child or burden one with it when you’re having a rough patch…”

“But,” you said again, feeling the pinch of tears in your eyes. “I thought… don’t you want kids?”

“Of course I do,” he shrugged. “But I decided I wanted you more. I went into this marriage with eyes wide open, I knew I wouldn’t be having children with you and I decided that you were worth the sacrifice.”

You tried to keep from crying but felt a tear slip down your cheek, anyway, as you stared down toward your feet.

“Hey,” he said, getting up and putting his hand to your nape, pulling your head up to look him in the eye. “It’s alright. I don’t hold it against you. I made my peace with it a long time ago. And it’s better if we just don’t have them instead of ruining them, right?”

“Right,” you sniffed and he kissed you on the forehead before stepping back from you.

“I’m going to try to finish this chapter research before bed,” he said. “I’m getting close but it’ll still be a bit, I’ll see you upstairs. Thank you for bringing me something to eat, I lost track of time.”

“Sure,” you said, going to the door like you were on autopilot. You paused, your fingers on the knob before looking back at him. “I love you.”

He was silent, looking over his papers, lost in his work again.

“Gale?”

“Hm?” He looked up, brows raised.

“I love you.”

“Oh,” he said absently, looking back down at the page. “I love you, too.”

You looked at your husband for another second, trying to accept that he would not, in fact, be the father of your children before you left him to his writing and went to bed alone.

April, 2023

You buried your face in his shoulder, straining to keep your nails from digging into his back, the cotton of his shirt bunching between your fingers as your hips canted up to grind against him. He licked and sucked at your neck, arms wrapped around your back, pressing your front tightly to his and he moaned as he worked his hard cock still trapped in his jeans down against your mound.

“Fuck,” he panted, his mouth working his way over your neck to your jaw, wet on your tender skin and you tried to let yourself get in lost in him.

It was hard, though. For one, you knew you should hold back. It wasn’t the right time to start sleeping with someone, life was too complicated without adding that into a relationship. For another, you hadn’t had sex since Gale and the thought of taking your clothes off in front of someone new made your heart race - and not in a good way. And, finally, there was something not quite right about him.

Maybe it was his cologne, maybe it was the timbre of his voice, maybe it was the fact that he just didn’t feel right in your arms or between your legs but you just couldn’t make yourself want Stephen.

At least, not in the way you wanted Joel.

Not that you were proud of that. The opposite, in fact. You tried your damndest to bury that feeling deep and low inside yourself after the incident in Dallas. You didn’t WANT to want Joel. It hurt to want Joel. It always had and that didn’t change after that morning.

You were still half entwined with Joel and trying not to panic when Sarah started knocking on the bedroom door, saying she was hungry and that she wanted to go somewhere that would have chocolate milk for breakfast and also could she try a coffee if you went to Starbucks since she was now basically a teenager and was tired after being out so late the night before at the concert.

The two of you scrambled away from each other, your panties sticky and wet and you could feel the heat rising in your face. How could you have done this? Dry humped yourself to orgasm on your best friend?

“It’s OK,” Joel said again, eyes wide and voice quiet. “Let’s just… we get back home and…”

“Hey guys?” Sarah called through the door for the second time in as many minutes. “Is my Ears Tour shirt in there? I want to wear it.”

“I got it baby girl,” Joel said, grabbing the bag and going for the door and then it was the three of you again. You weren’t alone with Joel until you stopped for gas in West, Sarah running inside to use the bathroom and start picking out kolache from the bakery case while Joel filled up the truck.

His eyes darted over to you, like you were something volatile and unknown, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket.

“Look,” he said eventually, decidedly not looking at you. “What… what happened… Goldie, I… You should know…”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off quickly. You didn’t think you could bear hearing him say what a mistake you were for the umpteenth time in your life. “Like you said, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Right?”

He looked at you then - actually looked at you, his brown eyes warm and deep and soft - something almost sad on his face that passed so quickly you weren’t sure it happened at all.

“Right,” he said after a moment. “You’re right.”

“I’d rather this didn’t…” you tried to find the words. “I really don’t want this to blow things up with you this time. I don’t want to go no contact or… whatever it is that happens with us when… when we…”

“It’s alright,” he cut you off, turning to watch the numbers tick up on the gas pump. “We just… pretend it never happened.”

“Right,” you said.

“Right,” he said back and you headed inside to find Sarah.

When you made it back to Austin, you hugged Sarah goodbye, picked up Puck and gathered your stuff from the back of the truck, Joel carrying your bag to your car for you.

“I know we said pretend it never happened,” he said after he’d put your duffle in the back seat. “But… I think it might be good if we had some space.”

“Space?” You asked, your heart sinking.

“Just… just a few days,” he said. “I think… I think I need it. Just a few days, though.”

“A few days,” you said, hesitant.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just… I gotta get my shit right.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that so you just nodded. Joel looked relieved.

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. “I… I really don’t want to lose you again, Goldie.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” you said.

“Good,” he said, turning and going toward his house before turning to face you, walking backwards as he did. “See you soon.”

You smiled a little.

“Sure, Joel.”

“Like… Like two days,” he said.

You laughed.

“OK.”

“Three, tops.”

“Three tops,” you repeated.

You went home and tried to distract yourself. You unpacked right away, put a grocery order in on Instacart and sat on the floor, shining a laser pointer on your legs and watching Puck try to pounce on it. Joel needed space. What the fuck did that mean? Why would he need space if it didn’t matter?

It did matter to you. That’s why space was probably a good idea for you. You didn’t want it but it was a good idea. You clearly couldn’t be trusted within a few feet of Joel without losing your fucking mind so space was smart. But why did Joel need it?

He wasn’t into you, at least not in the way you were into him. He’d made that plenty clear over the years. Every time something had happened, it was a mistake. You were a mistake. But… it kept happening. Did he want to fuck you against his better judgement? He’d always been a physical guy, with you and anyone else he cared about. He’d jumped from girl to girl in high school and, judging from the fact that Sarah existed but her mom was long gone, you figured he’d done the same after you’d gone away until responsibility came knocking.

Maybe everything between the two of you had just been a carry over from that. You knew he loved you as a friend and you were happy with that, you really were. Maybe it was just his affection for you and the fact that he wasn’t getting laid anywhere else that made him keep doing things he regretted with you and you were so, so tired of being something he regretted.

“Hey,” you said, scooping your cat up so his head was level with yours, a look of indignity on his small orange face. “Why am I like this? Why do I keep doing this to myself?”

He just pressed one pink-padded paw to your nose and you sighed.

“Well if you don’t have an answer…” you trailed off before kissing his little cat head and setting him back down.

You gave Joel the space he wanted. You didn’t call, you didn’t text, you didn’t even send him the stupid video you saw on TikTok that made you think of him.

In the mean time, you tried to write your book even though seemed to delete everything not long after it was down on the page. You saw Stephen. You tried not to text Gale. And, when Joel did text a few days later - just a picture of the Whataburger menu with a question mark - it made you feel better than you had in days.

Things went back to business as usual after that. You never talked about what happened in the hotel room with Joel. You certainly didn’t mention it to Stephen. You just tried your best to ignore the fact that the best orgasm you’d had in years happened as you fucked yourself against your best friend’s dick when you were half asleep.

But as much as you tried to pretend like that hadn’t happened, your body knew that it had. Joel had smelled so good and felt so good and Stephen just didn’t compare. No matter how much you wanted him to.

“We should stop,” you panted, voice drawn tight, hands moving to brace against Stephen’s chest. He groaned and went limp on top of you and you laughed.

“You’re killin’ me woman,” he said, sitting up from you enough to kiss you softly on the lips before moving to the other end of the couch and awkwardly adjusting his jeans.

“I know,” you winced as you sat up, too, pulling your knees into your chest. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m basically moving in with my sister tomorrow and I’ll be there for who knows how long while she gets settled with the baby and it’s just… it’s not the right time and…”

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out and giving your foot a squeeze. “You don’t have to explain it. You said you needed to go slow, I’m OK with that. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel ready for.”

You smiled a little, willing your heart to at least try and flutter at this kind, smart, handsome man who was saying and doing all the right things.

“Thank you,” you said. “That really does mean a lot.”

“Hope things go well for your sister,” he said. “And not just because, selfishly, I know I get you back sooner if it does.”

“Good to know you care about the welfare of infants outside your personal gain,” you said wryly, smirking a little.

He laughed.

“I know, it’s what makes me such a good guy,” he said. “When’s Anna due again?”

“Two weeks from tomorrow,” you sighed.

“Isn’t you basically moving in tomorrow then a bit early?” He frowned.

“Well, she might come early,” you said. “It sounds like she’s going to be a big baby. Trust me, I’m not exactly eager to go stay with my sister but…”

“You might like it more than you think,” he said. You looked at him, skeptical. He laughed. “Family’s weird that way.”

“One can hope,” you said.

You walked him out, kissing him goodbye at the door and wishing you felt something more as you did. Before you went to bed, you looked through your bags to make sure you had everything you needed and, eventually, settled in with your phone in hand, Puck curling up next to you. He nuzzled into the crook of your elbow, tucking his tail into his body before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“What do you have to sigh about?” You asked. He adjusted, spreading his little toes out before settling again. “A likely story.”

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone when you got a text from Joel with a photo attached. You opened it. He was in bed, too, with the TV on, the first Curtis and Viper on the screen.

The TV edit is bullshit.

You laughed a little.

You can just put on the copy you own, you know.

Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? And then I’d have to get up… much rather watch Curtis say “get plucked” 50 times than do that.

You snorted.

Lazy ass.

Lazy ass? I’m getting old, respect your elders.

“Jesus,” you said to yourself, shaking your head.

You hesitated for a second, debating about what to say next. Eventually, you just bit the bullet.

I miss you.

There was a pause before he texted back, long enough that you wondered if you should try to take it back, maybe make a joke of it. And then, he responded.

I miss you too, Goldie.

You were trying to figure out how to respond when he called you.

“It’s pushing midnight,” you said by way of greeting.

“Way past my old man bedtime,” he agreed. “Channel 62.”

You sighed but turned on the TV all the same, finding the station just in time to hear Curtis say “get plucked” to some henchman before gunning him down.

“Oh that’s bad,” you laughed.

“Told you.”

You watched the movie with Joel that way for a while, laughing and joking and providing commentary on the stupider parts until the love scene came on. You fidgeted in your bed, the campy sequence somehow still arousing because you knew Joel was listening.

“You’re going to tell me when she has the baby, right?” He said as the couple on screen undressed each other.

“I can tell you,” you smiled a little. “Assuming Anna doesn’t change her mind about that.”

“Good,” Joel said. “Haven’t held a baby in a while, I miss it.”

“Awww big bad Joel Miller secretly loves babies,” you teased, trying not to picture Joel holding a tiny Sarah because you thought your heart might explode if you did. “Who knew?”

“Hey, babies are cute as hell,” he said, mockingly defensive. “And they smell good. And they make these adorable little noises. Am I supposed to not love babies? What am I, a monster?”

“I will let you abuse your connection to me to snuggle my niece,” you smiled a little.

“Yeah, you better,” you could hear him smiling, too.

You switched off your lamp but let the TV on and laid down, Puck looking at you indignantly before adjusting so he was curled against your chest.

“You know if Anna or, you know if… if you need help with her,” Joel said, almost hesitantly. “You can always call me. It took a while to know what to do but I like to think I got pretty good at the single parent thing.”

You smiled a little, feeling overly tired.

“You’re very good at it.”

“Got the world’s greatest dad mug and everything to prove it,” he said. “I know it seems like a lot right now, Goldie, but it will be OK. Promise it will.”

Your eyes got heavy during the climax of the movie, laughing sleepily with Joel and nodding off before the credits. It was a few hours later when an unnaturally loud commercial jerked you awake, your phone still sitting next to your head on the pillow.

You groaned and sat up, turning off the TV. Puck had moved, probably bounding through the house somewhere at some imagined prey, and you got up to use the bathroom, bringing your phone with you. Out of curiosity, you checked the time the call with Joel had ended but frowned. Judging from the length, it seemed like it went on for a while after you’d fallen asleep. You went to text him but, instead, found a series of texts from Anna.

Hey, are you still up?

Guess not… FYI, feeling weird.

There was a break and then another text had come through just half an hour earlier.

OK these are either those fake contraction things or I’m in labor

“Oh fuck,” you said to yourself, quickly going to wash your hands before calling her but she beat you to it, your phone springing to life on your vanity, the vibration making it jump across the marble. You wiped your hand quickly on your pajamas and answered.

“Not the fake contractions!” Anna said quickly instead of a hello. “Sorry, I know 4 a.m. isn’t a great time but…”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you said, walking quickly to your bedroom and taking off your pajama pants as best as you could with one hand. “How far apart are they?”

“Eight minutes?” She said more like a question. “I think? But they’re strong enough that I can’t talk or walk during…”

“OK we have a little time,” you said, breathing a little easier as you grabbed a clean pair of underwear and leggings from your drawer. “I’m just throwing my clothes on, my bags are already packed, I’ll be there so soon. Just… unlock your front door and lie down on the couch and I’ll be right there.”

“I can do that,” she said, sounding a little panicked. “Thank you. For everything, I couldn’t do this on my own, I know I couldn’t and just… thank you.”

You smiled a little.

“Of course,” you said. “OK, I’m going to let you go but I’ll see you soon. You’ve got this, Anna. You do.”

You got dressed as quickly as you could before checking that Puck’s food and water bowl would be at least set for the day and jogging to your car, bags in hand.

Anna had done as you’d asked, unlocking her door so you didn’t need to fumble with keys in the dark and you found her in the middle of a contraction on her couch when you came in, grimacing and moaning in pain with her hands around the bottom of her stomach as she did.

“Hey, you’re OK,” you said, running to the couch and kneeling at her side. “Want my hand?”

She nodded frantically and you held it out. She squeezed it so tight you thought your knuckles might crack. As the contraction lessened, she took a deep breath, her face already shiny with sweat. “Think we can get you sat up and moved to the car?”

“Yeah,” she said. “But watch out, my water broke when I was unlocking the door, it’s wet over there.”

You almost laughed at that.

“That’s alright,” you said, helping her sit up. “It’s tile, think it will live. We’ll get you to the car and I’ll mop when we’re home with you and baby girl. You ever going to tell me her name?”

“I want to meet her first,” she said. “Think it’s weird for someone else to know her name before she does.”

“Makes sense,” you nodded, looping her arm around your shoulders and notching yourself into her underarm. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.”

“Then let’s go have a baby.”

Her contractions were seven minutes apart when you reached the hospital and they got her back to a labor and delivery room quickly, hooking her up to what seemed like countless machines as you sat there and watched, feeling more helpless than you had since you watched your marriage fall to pieces at your feet.

You realized, as Anna labored and nurses walked her through it, just how much you’d grown accustomed to being able to take things on for her. When she had an issue with her phone bill couldn’t figure it out? You called and handled it. When she wanted an NA meeting closer to her office? You tracked one down. When she was shopping for everything for the nursery? You looked up the safety ratings and handed over your credit card at Buy Buy Baby. It had always been that way. When her grades tanked, you tutored her. When she had a bully at school, you stepped in. When she wanted a snack while your mom was at work, you made it. If you could do it for Anna, you did. This was different. This, you couldn’t do for her.

But you did everything you could. You did everything they taught you in lamaze classes and gave her ice chips and got the nurse when she needed help you couldn’t provide. Still, you felt decidedly useless when, more than 12 hours after you got to the hospital, her daughter came into the world with sharp, angry little cries. She was slick and red and wailing, tufts of dark hair on her tiny head, her small limbs flung out from her little body and she was beautiful.

“Congratulations, Mama,” the doctor smiled, putting the baby on Anna’s chest. “It’s a girl.”

Anna sobbed and smiled as she held her daughter, cradling her close.

“Hi there little one,” she whispered down to her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

The baby cried even louder, the sound sharp and cracking, and Anna laughed wetly.

“Yeah,” she said. “You tell ‘em, Ellie.”

“Ellie?” You asked, trying to keep from fully crying but failing miserably.

“Yeah,” she said, still looking down at the tiny figure in her arms. “Ellie.”

The three of you got to know each other, Ellie rarely resting anywhere but in either of your arms. A few friends of Anna’s came by to meet her and Joel and Sarah did, too, Joel texting to ask what Anna was craving after spending the day in labor.

“Fried chicken!” She said. “With everything. And Dr. Pepper. Maybe a milkshake? Oh, and a burger if it’s not too much trouble.”

The two of them came with bags of food so comically large you couldn’t help but laugh as they brought them in, Sarah trailing balloons along behind her.

“Someone saw these in the gift shop so we had to stop for them,” Joel said, nodding to the balloons as he set down the heaping piles of food. “Here, baby girl, gimme those…”

He tied them off on the rail of Anna’s bed while Sarah fawned over the sleeping newborn.

“She’s so small,” she gaped down at her. “That’s insane.”

Joel came and stood behind her, putting a large hand on her shoulder.

“You were that size once, baby girl,” he said, sounding a little choked up. “You were a tiny thing, seemed like you fit in the palm of my hand.”

“That’s just because you have freakishly large hands,” you said.

“Shut it,” he gave you a look and you smiled.

While you and Anna ate, Joel showed carefully showed Sarah how to hold a baby, how to support her tiny head and how babies liked when you moved with them.

“See?” He said, sitting next to you on the little couch beneath the window as Sarah delicately cradled little Ellie. “You got it.”

“That’s just because she’s perfect,” she said, staring down at the baby before her eyes went wide with excitement and she looked between her dad and Ellie’s mom. “Can I babysit? I promise, I’ll take such good care of her and…”

“We can talk about that when both of you are a little older,” Joel laughed. “Glad to know you’re ready to start contributing to the household though. Have to start charging you rent…”

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes before looking back to the baby.

Joel held her next and you couldn’t help but stare at him as he did. He seemed so impossibly large compared to her, able to hold the tiny bundle that was your niece easily in his large hands, a look of awe and total adoration on his face as he did. But he was so beautiful, too. The gentle way he held her, the way he looked at her, the way he just seemed to be so happy to be caring for something so vulnerable, it made your heart ache with a want you’d long ago tried to set aside.

“He’s such a sucker for babies,” Sarah said, perching on the couch next to you and helping herself to a french fry. “He’s so weird.”

“Must be because you were a perfect kid from birth,” you teased and Sarah smiled, smug, as Joel scoffed.

“Please, if anything it’s in spite of her,” he said, still staring down at Ellie. “She had colic, seemed to love to pee right as I was changin’ her…”

“Hey!” Sarah said.

“But you were still the most amazing thing I’d ever seen,” he said, looking at his daughter before looking back to Ellie. “This one might be a close second, though. Good job, Mama.”

“Thank you,” Anna said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “Actually, would you mind giving her to me? I’m going to try and nurse…”

“Alright, I’ll hand her over and I won’t make you fight me for her but only because you just gave birth,” he said. “Next time though…”

Anna laughed good naturedly as Joel gently laid the baby in her arms.

“Alright, kiddo,” he said. “Let’s get out of their hair, give them some time to relax.”

He and Sarah gathered up the trash from dinner and you walked them to the elevator, Sarah pressing her face against the nursery window to look at the babies as you went.

“And how are you doing?” He asked as he waited for the elevator.

“Me?” You asked, brows raised. “I’m fine, I didn’t just push a human being out of my body.”

Joel laughed a little.

“I know but still. It’s a lot. You OK?”

You thought for a moment about how powerless you’d felt as Anna brought Ellie into the world, how you wished your mother had been here because she was better equipped than you’d ever be, how you didn’t know how to help raise her without finding some way to ruin her.

“I’m alright,” you said instead of saying any of that. “I’ll get them home and settled and then we’ll just… see how it goes, I guess?”

“That’s all you can do,” he said, watching you with an almost soft look in his eyes. “Meant what I said before. Don’t matter what time it is, don’t matter what you need, we’ll figure it out. Did it before, I can do it again. And so can you.”

“Thank you,” you said, letting yourself almost fall into him. He hesitated for a moment but wrapped himself around you, his arms almost swallowing you.

“You’ve got this, Goldie girl,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Know you do.”

He had to practically drag Sarah away from looking at all the babies and as you watched the elevator doors close, you wondered what you’d ever done without him.

Anna and Ellie were released the next day and you drove them to Anna’s house at a snail’s pace, trying to press the break as gently as possible when approaching a light so you wouldn’t jostle the precious cargo in the back seat.

At first, things went well. Or as well as it could when there were two people with basically no experience with children trying to care for an infant. Ellie didn’t need much, after all. She mostly slept, ate and pooped.

And cried. She definitely, definitely cried.

By day three, you were starting to get worried about the lack of sleep for both you and for Anna. You knew how exhausted you felt, how delayed your movements seemed as you tried to go through your routine on just two or three hours of sleep for the third day in a row. Anna, you knew, had to have it worse. She’d just given birth, after all, and was still recovering. On top of that, she was nursing Ellie.

Or she was trying to, at least.

After you’d left the hospital, Ellie had been reluctant to latch. She’d been doing an OK job of it before but now she seemed to do nothing but reject her mother’s breast or pull away quickly while wailing, her small face scrunching and getting red as she screamed.

“I know, I know, I know,” Anna said in the afternoon on the fourth day, bouncing Ellie on her shoulder and sounding on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I’m trying! I know you’re hungry, I know!”

“Maybe we can do formula?” You said, anxiously picking at a ragged cuticle as you watched your sister pace. “It’s better if she eats at all…”

“I should be able to fucking do this!” Anna snapped. “I’m her goddamn mother, I should be able to feed her!”

“You can,” you said, trying to soothe her. “Just… do the formula, I’ll make up a bottle, at least until we can get in to see the lactation specialist. That’s what it’s for. It’s OK, then you’re feeding her…”

“No, you’re feeding her,” she spat. “You bought the formula! You bought the formula and her crib and her goddamn onesie! Because I fucking failed at that, too!”

“You didn’t fail at anything!” You said. Anna had stopped bouncing Ellie and her cries got louder. “I know it’s hard right now but it’s going to get better, it is.”

“I need a break,” she stalked over to you, passing the baby off and all but storming out of the room. You bounced Ellie, who kept wailing, and you resisted the urge to cry yourself before going to make her a bottle.

It was that afternoon, one of the few hours a day that Ellie wasn’t crying and was instead sleeping - but not content to do it anywhere but on your chest - that you checked your phone. You had some general messages from Joel, check ins and funny pictures and offers to bring by dinner, and an update from Alyssa with information about the classes she was covering for you. There was also a text from Gale, one that sounded almost ominous.

I think I’ll always regret how things played out with you.

You frowned and considered texting back. You’d sent him basically nothing in months, only responding when he had a question about something related to the divorce - even though you knew that should really be going through your attorneys, but it was so hard to resist talking to him when you had the excuse. This text, however, seemed different.

You opened Facebook, hoping to go to his page and find some kind of hint but you didn’t even need to go that far. Sitting at the top of your newsfeed was a picture he’d been tagged in just a few hours ago, his arm around your younger, prettier replacement except, in this picture, her stomach was round, a blue dress tight over the swell near her hips as he looked at her, a tranquil smile on his face.

“Our soon to be party of three!” She had written on the post. “Baby boy Newton, coming this July!”

You just stared at your phone, heart racing as your stomach felt hollowed out. Gale was having a baby. Something you’d always wanted but he said was a bad idea, had really only been a bad idea because it was with you. You’d always secretly hoped that it was just an excuse, that he didn’t really want children but that wasn’t it. It was you. You were the problem.

Ellie stirred from her place against your chest, starting to squirm and you could feel her start getting herself worked up.

“It’s OK baby girl,” you said, your voice thick and wet. “Let’s see how you’re doing, see if you need a diaper and if we can let your mom sleep a little while longer, OK?”

As you tried to calm her down, you couldn’t help but remember what Gale had told you. How you weren’t nurturing, how you couldn’t be selfless enough, how you’d ruin a child. How could you pretend like he was wrong? As you clutched tight to your screaming, squirming niece and tried to get her to settle or eat, how could you say that you would do anything but fail her?

“Are you OK?” Anna asked a little while later when she emerged, groggy, from her room to find you with red eyes and a tear-streaked face and her daughter in your arms.

“Fine,” you said, bouncing Ellie. “I’m fine.”

You couldn’t tell her what Gale had said - Gale had known - about you. Not right now, not when Anna was already stressed and worried enough. You’d just have to deal with it and with the crying baby who was in your care.

And Ellie basically never stopped crying. You’d get a few hours of blessed quiet in a day but it seemed like, if she was conscious, she was screaming. You were coming up on the end of the first two weeks of her life with little understanding as to why she wasn’t able to settle and you needed to get back to work for a few days to finish out the semester.

“You’re seriously going to leave me here with her?” Anna asked, her eyes wide.

“Just for a week,” you said. “I have to do exam review, final project presentations and office hours before exam week. I have to, Anna, I’m sorry. I can see if I can find a nanny for a few days…”

“No,” she shook her head. “Don’t. I can do this. I need to be able to do this.”��

“If you start feeling overwhelmed,” you frowned but she cut you off.

“She’s my daughter,” she said. “I can take care of my own damn daughter.”

Anna insisted you go home for the work week, wanting to try things on her own since you were going to be gone all day, anyway. You brought your bags so you could do laundry and pack a fresh round of clothes and you found yourself reveling in the silence of your home when you walked into it, closing your eyes and soaking it in.

Joel had picked up Puck while you were at Anna’s and he said he was down to keep him for a while but, after a few hours, it was strange, rattling around your house without another soul in it. No crying baby, no frustrated sister, no playful cat. Just you and your exhaustion as you collapsed into bed.

You checked in on Anna in the afternoons after work and, on Wednesday, went to Joel’s for dinner, Sarah begging you to sneak her more Sprite when Joel got up to use the bathroom halfway through.

“Don’t tell your dad,” you said, filling up her cup from the two liter in the fridge.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she smiled before chugging the first half of the soda before Joel made it back to the table.

You sat on the couch with Joel after dinner, Puck purring furiously on your lap after giving you the silent treatment for the first hour you were there.

“If my kid can’t sleep tonight, that’s on you,” he said as he settled in.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re the one who let her have more sugar,” he said as Swiftie jumped on his lap and he started absently petting her. You gaped at him. “Don’t look so shocked. I’ve learned to watch the levels in the Coke bottles around this house with that kid.”

“She could be doing actual coke, you know,” you said.

“At 11?”

You nodded.

“You’ve got it easy,” you said.

He laughed.

“Suppose I do,” he said. “How’s it going with Ellie?”

“She’s still crying like crazy,” you sighed. “It’s constant…”

“I told you I can come help!” He said, incredulous.

“I know!” You replied. “But Anna doesn’t WANT help, she’s insisting she can do it. I’m worried about her, I don’t know how clearly she’s thinking right now…”

“Given how sleep deprived she is?” Joel raised his brows. “Probably not very.”

“I’m this close to just having you come over anyway, whether she likes it or not,” you said. “I don’t want her completely losing herself to this.”

“Bring the kid here for a bit and give her a break,” Joel said. “I can watch ‘er, or I can come there…”

“I appreciate it,” you sighed. “I’ll bring that up to her tomorrow. We have Ellie’s next check up in the afternoon, we’ll see how she’s doing. Maybe the doctor will have a good suggestion, who knows.”

“Hope so,” Joel said. “It’ll be OK. Promise you, it will.”

You almost told Joel about Gale then. About him having a baby with another woman because one of the only people who had ever been able to see you - really, truly see you - saw how bad you would be at this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Despite Joel’s promise, it didn’t feel like it was going to be OK. Especially not at Ellie’s check up the next afternoon. She had lost a few ounces, moving down the track for weight percentile, and Anna looked like she was about to cry.

“She won’t nurse,” she said, her voice thick. “She doesn’t like the formula, what do I do?”

The doctor gave her some advice that you wrote down, a glassy look on Anna’s face, and drove home, worried that the doctor needed to see Ellie back in less than a week.

“I’m going to ruin my kid,” Anna said when you got her home, Ellie blessedly asleep in her carseat, the only time you could reliably get her to pass out in the back of the car. “I can’t even feed her right, I’m going to destroy her when all I want to do is do the right thing for her.”

“It’ll be OK,” you said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I can stay over tonight…”

“No,” she shook her head. “May as well finish the week out, right?”

“Sure,” you said uncertainly, “If you change your mind, just call me. I’ll be over in like 10 minutes, just call.”

“Right,” she said, giving you a tight smile before walking you out. “I’m sure it will all work out.”

You felt off all evening as you reviewed the final, frantic emails from students as the semester wound down. You should never have come home like this, you should have just gone to work and gone to Anna’s after whether she liked it or not. You seriously considered packing up and heading over that second but just chewed on the inside of your cheek instead. It was late. You’d be back the next night. Less than 24 hours. Closer to 18 hours, actually. What could really go wrong in 18 hours?

You went back to work but only lasted another few minutes when Anna texted you.

Are you at home?

You frowned at the phone.

Yeah, what’s up? Need me to come over?

She didn’t respond. You drummed your pen against the edge of your desk and tried to hold yourself back from replying. She had an infant at home, after all. She wasn’t staring at her phone.

But after five minutes, you texted again.

Is everything OK? Is Ellie OK? Are you OK?

You stared at the screen, willing her to respond. Another few minutes passed when you saw the bubble pop up, saying she was typing.

Check your front porch.

You frowned, picking up your phone and going to respond when another message appeared.

I’m so sorry.

“Anna?” You said, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. Your heart raced as you frantically called her. It rang once and then went to voicemail. “Fuck!”

You sprinted for your front door, grabbing your keys from the bowl in your entryway and ripping the door open and you stopped in your tracks.

Sitting there, on your front stoop and in her carseat and next to a diaper bag, was Ellie.

“Hey sweetheart,” you said softly, picking up the carrier and folding the handle back, carrying her gently inside and setting the carseat on the kitchen table. “Just going to make sure you’re all OK…”

You pulled back the blanket that had been tucked around her. She was all strapped into the carrier, her little legs and arms pulled in tight to her torso. You almost cried in relief when you saw her tiny chest rising and falling.

“So where’s your mama baby girl?” You asked, watching her as you pulled up Anna’s number and dialed again. This time it rang out. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.

You tried to keep calm as you texted her.

If you don’t answer I’m calling 911.

You gave her a few seconds to see the message before you called her and she picked up on the first ring this time.

“I told you, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wet.

“Sorry for what?” You asked. “Anna, just… just come here, we can talk about this…”

“Talk about what?” She cut you off. “About the fact that I can’t do anything right by my own kid? I can’t even fucking feed her right, you heard the doctor today…”

“We can figure it out,” you said quickly. “Doing… whatever it is you’re doing is not the answer. Just come here, we’ll take care of it together, we always do and…”

“No, no there is no we,” she said. “You always fix it, you always handle it, not me. I’m just ruining her, I’m bad for her, I’m not capable of this. She should be yours not mine, she’s… she deserves better than me and…”

“No,” you said, trying not to panic. “No, you’re her mother, what she needs is you! Anna, don’t do this, don’t…”

“It’s not forever,” she said. “I’m just… I’m going away for a little while. I need to be better for her. I’ll come back when I can. Take care of her for me, OK?”

“Anna, no, Anna don’t-“

You didn’t get a chance to finish. She hung up and you frantically tried to call her back but it just went straight to voicemail.

“Fuck,” you teared up, looking down at your infant niece in her carrier. She was so small, she needed so much, so much you weren’t capable of giving her.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this afraid of anything, all the hope and potential carried in Ellie’s tiny body now resting on your shoulders. What were you supposed to do with all of that? When all you were capable of was failing?

You were about to do the only thing he could think to do - call Joel - when Ellie made one of her small noises, one that came just before she started crying and, sure enough, half a second later, she was wailing, her little legs kicking out as she did.

“Hey now,” you said, desperate to soothe her. “You’re OK baby girl. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

Anna had, at least, left the base to the carseat and a container of formula with the diaper bag on your porch. That, plus the things you’d stocked your house with so you could take Ellie for a few hours or even a day if Anna needed, made it so you could look after her without needing to make a store run for a day or two. You tried to focus on looking after her as best you could even though you had never felt so lost before in your life.

You moved all your office hours for Friday to virtual and did your best to take them with Ellie there, but it was hard. She was inconsolable all day. Every now and then, she would settle against you but then she seemed to realize that you were wrong. You didn’t feel like her mother or smell like her mother and you weren’t who was supposed to be taking care of her. It was like she could sense the thing about yourself that scared you most.

Things got worse as the day wore on. You’d been up with her all night and you’d had to take advantage of her brief periods of sleep to work that day and it seemed like she was getting more and more upset as the night wore on. She shoved her bottle away, her tiny face scrunched tight as she screamed.

“Come on,” you said, crying right alongside her. “You… you have to eat something, I know I’m not your mom but you can’t just… you have to eat, please just eat something I promise you’ll feel better if you do.”

She didn’t listen. She just cried in your arms and all you could think about was what Gale had told you. He’d been right about so many things, of course he was right about this, too.

“Maybe you’re just too worked up,” you said, carrying her to her car seat and setting her gently inside it. “Just… going to try to calm you down, maybe then it’ll be OK.”

You didn’t know if that would work but you were desperate. You carried her to the car and triple checked that she was secure before just driving. She liked the car, she always quieted down in the car. This had to help. It had to.

Something had to.

But it didn’t. You weren’t sure just how long you’d been driving aimlessly, Ellie wailing in the back seat, but you couldn’t keep doing this. Not to her.

You weren’t sure how but you found yourself outside Joel’s house. It was dark outside, the glow of light from inside the houses on his street warm and welcoming and you wished, desperately, that you belonged with that light. That you could be somewhere soft and nurturing and where Ellie would be cared for the way she deserved, not the way you managed to ruin everything you touched.

You gave up on stopping your own tears. Instead, you got out of the car and unhooked Ellie’s carseat from the base, looping your arm through the handle and carrying it to Joel’s front door. You knocked, even though you were sure he could hear the baby crying, and it was only a few seconds before he opened it.

“Goldie?” He asked, looking you up and down, his eyes soft and wide. “What’s going on? What…”

“Please, Joel,” you said, holding the carrier tightly against yourself. “I need your help.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Poor Goldie, Ellie and Anna! Stuff is ROUGH for them right now but don't worry, Joel is now on the scene.

We'll just have to see what a lot of stress and desperation from Goldie while Joel is being hot and paternal makes happen 👀

OK LOVE YOU BYEEEEEE!

Also thank you for reading because you're the best. Truly.

OK now love you bye ❤️

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

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bitethedevil · 6 months ago

Text

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 8

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav snaps. Her determination to get out becomes stronger than ever and she decides to change her tactics when it comes to dealing with Raphael.

AN: This turned super horny, idk what to tell ya. Also, I found it really difficult to write Hope because she just acts and speaks in such a specific way that's really hard to capture.

TW: Mentions of Abuse

WARNING: NSFW

Tav sat up in the bed and looked at him. Raphael so blatantly admitting to what he had done had made something snap in her head. It was as she was finally resurfacing back to reality and back to the person she had been before Raphael had gotten his claws in her. For the first time since she got to the House of Hope, she saw him for what he was.

“I thought you said that your plan was to kill my friends and then me,” Tav said with a calmness that surprised even herself.

“And I am a man of my word,” Raphael said, still lying in bed. He was studying her face for a reaction. “I never specified when. I will one day take your soul, which is my property by right, and should your friends decide to pay us a visit I will kill them. Though I have removed any motivation they might have to come knocking on my door, for which you are very welcome, by the way.”

He ran his fingers over the metal cuffs around her wrists.

“So, you are not even trying to lure my friends here. You intend to keep me here…indefinitely...” Tav said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” he answered. “I made it clear from the beginning that you would never leave, did I not? Death would have been all to easy for such a fearless little thing like you. It has been much more fascinating to see you trying deal with all those wonderful conflicting feelings of yours.”

She could see it in his eyes and his widening smile that he was expecting a reaction from her by saying this. He wanted her to get angry, to cry, to be scared. Something in his eyes reminded her of her father. The way he would look at her after he had beat her or said something cruel to her to get a reaction out of her during her childhood. That gleeful anticipation as they waited for her to either explode or break.

She looked at him and was quiet for a moment. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears out of anger, but her expression remained unreadable.

Then a smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward to brush a hand over his hair. She kissed him sweetly on the lips and he froze.

She wished that she could bottle up the look of genuine confusion she saw on his face.

She did not say anything. She just laid back down on the bed beside him. She pulled his arm around herself and got comfortable.

Raphael had made a misstep in his eagerness to piss her off: he had admitted that it was not his plan to kill her anytime soon.

Tav was not going to let herself be a passive player in his little game anymore. She would play and she would win. Not by giving him the resistance that he seemed to be thriving on, but by giving him exactly what he wanted.

He had told her the first day they met that he liked when people put up a fight. She would not. She would shower him with affection, heed his every whim, be his adoring little mouse, and when she finally found that damn hammer, she would watch him burn, just as she had watched her father do all those years ago.

As always, he was gone when she woke up. She got dressed. Instead of searching for the least provocative piece of clothing she could find as she usually would have, she grabbed a rather revealing dress from the wardrobe.

It was a tight-fitting dress with a plunging neckline in a burnt orange color that complimented her red hair. There was a matching gold choker with yellow stones that she also put on.

It looked completely foreign on her who had mostly dressed in thick robes for the majority of her life. It felt more like a costume, she thought as she looked herself in the mirror. Then again, she was definitely playing a part with what she had planned, so perhaps it was fitting.

She left the boudoir. She reached the entrance to the main area where she usually ate her breakfast when she stopped in her tracks and her eyes widened.

With her back turned to Tav, she was looking out over the balcony: it was Hope.

Hope! How could she had forgotten Hope? Tav felt terrible but she had not as much as given a thought to the odd Dwarven woman she had met back when she had broken into Raphael’s home. Tav had even promised to free her, she remembered with a knot in her stomach.

It had been too risky to free her. She even remembered selfishly thinking to herself that it was not her problem before they left. What Raphael did in his privacy was not her business. Neither her nor her companions ever spoke about her after they had left.

How fitting that Tav herself should end up in the very same position as her. She really did deserve it in a way, she thought to herself. She completely understood why Hope had stayed away from her during her time there. She had every right to hate her.

“Hope…?” Tav called out softly.

The projection of Hope turned around and a wide cheery smile spread across her face.

“There you areee! And without my sister or his new one at your heels!” she said in a cheerful tone. “He has barely had time to torture me since you got here, you know? Maybe if he leaves me long enough, I’ll be in one piece for the first time in years!”

The sad and pitying look in Tav’s eyes strongly contrasted Hope’s cheerful demeanor.

“What is it? Are you hurt?” Hope asked, looking her up and down. “Hurt, but you still look like you are in one piece…Hm…Oh! Oh! Did he drown you? Suffocate you? Was it the Omuan dreamcatcher? Oh, he loves that one.”

“I’m fine, Hope…” Tav said quietly as she tried to hold back the ocean of emotions that was building up inside herself by seeing Hope again.

She could not even begin to imagine the things Hope had endured. Her heart had sunk to the floor. Who knows how long Hope had resisted Raphael’s persistence? And Tav had brushed her off back then instead of saving her while she still had a chance…

“Oooh, no one’s fine here for long,” Hope said with the same manic intensity. “He prods and pokes and slices and cuts and then he puts you back together to do it all over again!”

Tav took a deep breath. The guilt she was feeling was crushing her.

“I’m so sorry, Hope,” Tav managed to say. “For not saving you back then…”

Hope went quiet for a moment.

“And I’m sorry that you are here…” Hope said in a sad tone, though it quickly turned hopeful again. “But…your friends will come with the hammer and save you! Maybe they will smash my chains as well. Oh, please don’t leave me here after you kill him…”

Tav sighed. She almost did not have the heart to tell her.

“My friends can’t get to it right now…Raphael took it back,” Tav said in a defeated voice. “But I’m determined to find out where he is hiding it. When I do, I will free both of us.”

Hope's smile returned even bigger than before.

“This is great news!” Hope said. “It means it’s here. It will be, it has to be, it is! It’s hidden, but it’s here.”

Tav’s brow furrowed.

“How are you so sure?” she asked.

“It’s what he does…” Hope said, still smiling but with a sad tone in her voice again. “He dangles things right in front of your nose. Freedom, riches, everything you could ever want! Always so close that you can smell it and always just out of reach.”

The projection of Hope froze after they both heard a noise. A servant was walking down the corridor towards them.

“Oh! I have to go,” Hope whispered.

“No, wait—” Tav said, but Hope had already disappeared.

Tav was looking at the spot where she had just stood. If Hope was right, there was a chance that she could find the Orphic Hammer and escape on her own without the help of her friends, which would be ideal.

Her meeting with Hope reaffirmed her plan. Resisting him was not the way to go. Hope was the living example of that. Perhaps, there was a chance that he would even grow bored with her if she simply gave him what he wanted.

She would keep the peace. She would keep him happy and distracted for as long as it would take her to figure out how to escape and then she would strike.

She had been scouring the parts of the house that she could access without servants or debtors watching her for where Raphael might be hiding the hammer. There were a couple of options for where it could be that she knew of: the archive or the vault.

It was obviously not on display in the archive, but she knew that there were more to the archive than what met the eye. She had heard that more artifacts were hidden in the bowels of the house underneath the archive. How she would access it or even find the entrance, she was not sure, but perhaps Hope knew if she could find her again.

Then there was the vault. Her and Gale had tried to break into it back when they had broken into his house, but without any luck. The lock was heavily protected with magic, but if she could get to it without any debtors or servants watching, she might be able to crack it with enough time on her hands.

She had given up for the day, but at least she now had some leads as to where to look. She knew that it would not be long until Raphael arrived home again, so she sat down in the archive to read and prepare herself for her role as his adoring prisoner.

For once he sought out her and not the other way around. He entered the archive and smiled when he saw her. He was in human form. She looked up from her book and smiled back warmly, without showing as much as a trace of bitterness in her expression. She saw him narrow his eyes at that, but his smile did not falter.

It was clear that he was still waiting for a reaction. For her to either explode or break down crying. It was delicious to see him treading so carefully, because he was not sure what to do next. She was not following the script that he had so carefully planned out for her, and she could see that underneath his smile, there was a tinge of frustration over it.

“Evening,” Tav said breaking the silence.

He took a seat in the sofa opposite from where she was sitting.

“Good evening,” he said back, still studying her face for a reaction.

Tav’s smile widened as she noticed how he had decided to sit away from her. She closed the book she was reading and put it on the table before getting up from her seat. She walked over to where he was sitting at a leisurely pace. He sat in silence as his eyes followed her every step.

He then seemed to notice she was wearing much more revealing clothing than she usually did. His eyes were devouring her exposed skin for a moment before they settled back on her face.

She sat down right beside him on the sofa. She leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek that seemed as casual as if she had done it a hundred times before. His body tensed but he did not move away from her.

“How was your day?” she asked with a bright smile.

She could see that there was a bit of amusement to his smile now. It was clear that he was not quite sure what was happening, but he knew that she was up to something.

“Slightly tedious,” he answered casually. His eyes drifted down to her dress and lingered on her cleavage for a moment. “You look even lovelier than usual. The dress suits you…as does that charming smile of yours. You really should smile more, my dear.”

Tav’s eye twitched in annoyance at his last comment, but she quickly hid it. Though not quickly enough that Raphael did not notice it, and she could see the satisfaction in his smile at his comment managing to get a reaction from her, albeit a small one.

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to notice,” she said instead of the many things she wanted to say to that comment. “It’s difficult to smile when I miss you so much all the time.”

“Is that so?” he purred and snaked his arm around her waist to pull her closer.

She was not fooling him, and she could see it in his face, though that did not stop him from seeing how far he could push her in the little game they were playing.

“Mhm” she affirmed and leaned more against him.

“Hm,” he hummed and kissed the side of her head before murmuring into her ear: “Nothing ruins a good play quite like actors overplaying their parts, dear.”

She smiled and turned her head towards him. Her nose was almost touching his and she was looking directly into his brown eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” she said before kissing him.

He kissed her back and tightened his grip around her waist. He put his other arm under her leg and lifted her to sit on his lap.

He was in control again and Tav was not having it. She was done with simply letting him do what he wanted to her and be a passive participant like she always was with him.

She snaked her arm down between them and felt his hardening erection. He made a low groan in response and his tongue invaded her mouth. Both of his hands were around her, kneading her ass as she rubbed him through his pants. It did not take long before she could feel that he was fully hard.

She tried to discreetly unbutton his pants while they were kissing, but one of his hands slid up her back and into her hair. He yanked her head back.

“What is it that you are trying to achieve with all of this?” he asked, looking into her eyes. Though his question had no doubt been meant to sound threatening, his tone and dilated pupils revealed just how aroused he was.

Tav smiled. Oh, she was having fun with this. It was immensely satisfying for her to finally see him a little rattled and confused. She traced the outline of his cock through his pants.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

Raphael growled in a way that sounded simultaneously aroused and frustrated, as she touched him. He yanked her head back further, so her neck was exposed to him. He left a kiss and a gentle bite just above the choker she was wearing, before letting go of her hair.

“Off,” he commanded. He gave her a firm but not painful slap on her ass and then gestured for her to get off his lap so they could go to the bedroom.

To her surprise he indulged her and let her take the lead, at least for the moment it seemed. He had always been on top of her, but now she was on top of him, kissing her way down his body. She heard his breathing become heavier and heavier the closer she came to the part of him that was aching for her.

The moment her kisses and bites down his stomach reached to just above his cock, she heard his breath hitch slightly at the sensation. She saw his cock twitch in anticipation. It was her first time seeing it so up close. Even in his human form it was impressive in both length and girth.

She teased him by leaving sloppy kisses and small licks up and down his shaft, all while keeping eye contact with him. She could see that the teasing was getting to him. His body was aching for her, and he seemed to be on the verge of losing control.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked impatiently, referring to her endless teasing. She could hear that he was getting impatient, but it was too delicious to have him in the palm of her hand like that for her to stop.

“Mhm,” she affirmed and ran her lips over his shaft, earning her a groan.

She felt his hand tangle in her hair. He was not taking control over her movements yet, but it was a clear warning that he would if she kept going.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” she said.

She teased the head of his cock with her tongue. It made him instinctively tighten his grip on her hair and groan deeply.

“Is that so?” he said. “So is humility, I hear.”

With that he pushed her head down, signaling that he was done waiting. He inhaled sharply as she took him fully in her mouth. When she began moving her head up and down on her own, his grip on her hair loosened and he let her do it at her own pace.

It did not take long before she managed to push him over the edge. She dug her nails into his thighs as he came in her mouth. He held her hair in a grip that told her that he expected her to swallow. His seed was almost burning in her mouth, but she forced herself to swallow.

He was breathless. He loosened his grip and ran his fingers through her hair instead.

“Such a good little mouse,” he said condescendingly, almost as if to a pet, which somehow managed to both piss her off and turn her on at the same time. “Come here.”

He gestured for her to kiss him. As she did, she wondered exactly how far he would let her take her little game. She felt daring. She wondered, not for the first time, how it would be to sit on that smug face of his and shut him up.

She moved further up his chest, and he must have guessed her intentions, because he smirked and grabbed her. He pushed her backwards, so she landed on her back. He pinned her to the mattress and then he started kissing his way down her body, the same way she had done with him.

“Control freak,” she muttered under her breath. She received a bite on her stomach for that comment.

Raphael was twice the tease that she had been. When he finally reached her now dripping core, he started teasing her with his tongue in an excruciatingly slow pace. She bucked her hips against his mouth, which only made him grab around her thighs to hold her down.

“Tut-tut. Patience is a virtue, dearest,” he said repeating her own words.

“You’re—” she interrupted herself with a moan as Raphael lightly ran the tip of his tongue over her clit. “You’re hilarious…”

So much for staying in control and not being a passive participant. Raphael was being relentless with his teasing, to the point where she was becoming a moaning and dripping mess under him. It went on for a long time and it was pure torture.

“Perhaps I would be able to find a shred of sympathy for you, if you begged nicely,” he suddenly said. She could feel him smile against her inner thigh, as he kissed and nibbled at the skin there.

Tav had to remind herself of the role she was currently playing. She was supposed to indulge him in what he wanted instead of resisting.

“Please…” she said.

“Oh, come now, dear,” Raphael said and looked up at her with a look that was downright sinful. He inserted a single finger into her, making her grasp the sheets. “Surely you can do better than that.”

He curled his finger inside her.

“Please, Raphael,” she moaned. She almost cringed at how pathetic and desperate she sounded.

“Much better,” he said and spread her legs slightly more.

He transformed into his devil form without warning, making her jump slightly in surprise. She seemed a bit confused with why he would suddenly do so, until he lowered his head between her legs.

“Mind the horns…” he said before he started eating her out.

He had to hold her legs open, so that she would not instinctively close them and hurt herself on his horns because of the sensation she felt between her legs. She suddenly understood why she had changed into that form: his tongue was not only longer but it was also forked.

He was looking up at her through the whole thing. He was making a low rumbling noise in his chest that almost sounded like a deep purring sound as he hungrily ate her out. His long tongue was inside her, and it almost sent her over the edge immediately.

She came harder than she ever had before, and it took her by complete surprise. She was grasping the sheets and on the verge of screaming as her climax washed over her. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath as it passed. Her legs were shaking, and she could hear Raphael chuckle as he was looking at the state of her.

Fuck him for being able to make her feel like that, Tav thought.

He leaned over her and kissed her. His long tongue was almost in her throat, and she could taste herself on his tongue. It was passionate, hot, and intoxicating. When he let go of the kiss, his gaze went from her lips to her eyes.

She was looking directly into his burning orange eyes when he suddenly changed back into his human form. He kissed her again, but this time it felt sweeter and more loving. His hand was caressing her face gently.

He left sweet kisses down her jaw and neck before laying his head on her chest. An all too vulnerable gesture that made her freeze.

She was not quite sure how to react.

She put her hand on his head with the gentleness of someone daring to touch an animal that might bite them. When he did not move or make a snarky comment at the gesture, she started slowly massaging his scalp with her fingers.

He made a low rumbling noise that almost sounded like a purr. He fell asleep on her chest not long after. Tav could not sleep. His arm was around her waist and his head was resting over her heart as he began snoring softly. She looked down at him. This man who was bigger than her and who was snuggling up to her in a way that seemed completely out of character for someone like him.

There he was, the devil that rips people apart simply to put them back together and start all over again, being infuriatingly human and vulnerable in her arms.

He was doing it on purpose, the bastard, Tav thought. He knew that she was playing games with him and now he was doing the same to her just to assert control over the situation.

She would not be fooled by him again, but she would play along.

#raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #raphael fanfic #baldur's gate 3

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crimsonwolf715 · 6 days ago

Text

Coming Home

(Part 2 of Adventures of the Batfamily)

Jason watches Batman and Robin take out one of his competitors on security cameras. Batman, who is undoubtedly still his older brother instead of his father, is doing a wonderful job of taking out Jason’s competitors while he’s recovering/vacationing. He grabs the chilled bottle of beer and drinks it while continuing to watch. Once the battle’s over and his brothers come out victorious, he turns the feed off.

He grabs his cigarettes and heads out onto the roof to smoke. Not the best place, the wind’s more aggressive up there, but he likes the view. He only gets through one cigarette before he gets a call. He looks at it and it’s one of the heads of his port operations.

“We’re being attacked, boss!” someone that the phone definitely doesn’t belong to shouts when he answers. “The warehouse down by the harbor is being attacked by Batman and his sidekicks!”

Jason puts the cigarette out and heads down to grab his gear. He drives towards the warehouse once he’s gotten all his gear. After almost getting in two wrecks due to his reckless motorcycle driving, he makes it to the warehouse. It’s quiet and nobody’s there.

“Where’s the attack?” Jason asks. “If someone is yanking my chain, I swear…”

The sound of the doors opening stops him. He pulls his pistols out and points them at the door. When someone comes into view, it’s his people.

“Where’s the attack?” Jason asks.

“Attack?” one of them asks. “Nobody’s attacked us. We’ve been doing exactly what you instructed us to do, keep things on the down low. We haven’t had a run in with anyone since you left to recover.”

“So somebody’s pulling the strings. What strings though? What’s the gain?” Jason mutters.

“Everything alright, sir? Should we fear an attack and move out?”

“No, I’m going to head out and figure out what’s going on.”

“Okay, sir.”

Jason walks back out to his motorcycle and drives to his other warehouse by the docks.

Not as close to the docks, but maybe they just couldn’t remember the address. Not like Gotham goons are known for being smart.

He barely gets there and finds the place empty before Batman, Red Robin, and Robin come busting in. Jason signals for assistance, then avoids his siblings by hiding and running around the warehouse. Every time he comes across Damian, Damian gets closer to catching him. On the other hand, Dick does catch him by complete accident. Jason was avoiding Tim when he ran into Dick.

The two start fighting and he hears his people coming in one of the doors. Dick punches Jason in the abdomen, sending him into the wall behind him. Jason’s reinforcements show up and start attacking Dick. Jason uses the distraction to make his getaway. He hops on his motorcycle and drives towards his apartment.

Batman heads down to the Batcave when he gets a notification that someone’s trying to contact him. He sits down at the computer and answers.

“Hi, Batman.” That voice belongs to Catwoman.

“Did you find something Selina?” Bruce asks.

“Always in such a rush,” Selina replies.

“Yes, I did. I figured out where the Red Hood lives. He lives in one of my old apartment buildings. The landlord was very willing to talk to me about Hood. He’s a model tenant outside of watching movies with gunshots late at night, which people seem to complain about. He was almost never there until two weeks ago. He’s barely seen the man leave since then. He is currently not home though, if you wanna wait on him. Why did you need me to find all this out? Couldn’t figure it out yourself?”

“Would’ve taken too long. What’s the address?”

Selina rattles it off, so Bruce writes it down.

“You think maybe we could…?”

“Thanks, Selina.” He cuts the line and heads back upstairs.

He runs into Alfred on the way out.

“Where are you off to, sir?”

“To talk to Gordon. We’re hosting a gala for the police force and donors. We need to iron some stuff out.”

“That doesn’t sound worth leaving when you said you wouldn’t.”

“I only said that I wouldn’t go out to fight crime. I’ve left the house a handful of times. I’ll be back in a while.”

“Alright, sir.”

Bruce gets a car and then drives towards the address Selina gave him.

Jason stumbles into his apartment and he can hear something making a whistling sound from the kitchen. Jason walks in there and he’s struck by the sight of seeing his father there, boiling water like this is a casual “come to see your child situation”.

“What the…?”

Jason doesn’t get the chance to finish the question since Bruce turns and asks, “Are you injured? You’re bleeding.”

Jason looks down and notices that there is blood on his costume. “Oh, that’s why I’m in pain.”

Jason’s vision blurs and he falls forward. He feels someone catch him before he blacks out. He wakes up with a needle in his arm and a fuzzy feeling in his head. He opens his eyes and he sees Bruce sitting in his armchair, watching something to Jason’s left. Jason glances in the direction and it’s a bag of blood. Jason glances down at his arm.

He’s giving me blood. Is this the blood I keep in my stash?

“Oh good. You’re awake,” Bruce says.

“What?” Jason asks, the word slurring slightly.

“I said that I’m glad that you’re awake. I was worried that what I was doing wouldn’t be sufficient.”

“Why…? Why are you helping me?”

“Jason, you’re my son. I want to help you.”

“Bullshit,” Jason spits. “Get out before I rip this out and kick your ass out of my apartment.”

Bruce gets up. “Just keep the blood going and take meds in three hours. And know that you’ll always have a place at home.”

Bruce gives Jason one last look, one that Jason interpreted as remorseful, then leaves.

The three get to the Batcave and Dick pulls the cowl off.

“Ugh, I hate wearing a cowl. I don’t know how Wally does it all the time. I’m glad the police tipped us off that Red Hood was out tonight.”

“Are you bleeding, Grayson?” Damian asks, walking closer, his eyes on Dick’s abdomen.

Dick looks down and notices blood on his torso, but he’s not in pain.

“It’s not my blood, Dami.”

“Does that mean you hit Hood?” Tim asks.

“I guess. I don’t think I hit him with anything sharp, but he’s the only one that got close enough to get this much blood on me.”

“Quickly and carefully take the suit off. I’ll run the blood through the system to see if we can find a match,” Tim says.

“Good idea, Tim,” Dick says. “I’m gonna go change and give this to you. Bruce is gonna be pissed.”

When Dick comes back, Alfred’s standing by Tim and Damian, who are stationed at the computer. Dick offers Tim the suit, which Tim takes.

“How’s Dad?” Dick asks.

“He left a little while ago,” Alfred answers.

“Where did he go?” Damian asks, sounding suspicious.

“He said that he was going to speak to the Commissioner about the upcoming Police Gala. I wasn’t too worried considering he knows better than to do something dangerous without his gear, which you had Master Grayson.”

Dick nods, though he doesn’t look convinced that Bruce wouldn’t go out and do something dangerous without his gear.

“Roughly how long should this take, Drake?” Damian asks.

“Thirty minutes.”

“Then I’m going to get a quick shower and change.”

“Okie dokie.”

Tim puts the sample into the computer as Damian heads towards the changing area. The computer beeps five minutes later, surprising Dick and Tim.

“That was really fast,” Tim says. “Let me…”

He clicks two things and the results come up.

Jason Peter Todd

Dick and Tim stare at the computer in silent shock while Alfred excuses himself.

Damian silently walks up. “Is this the result?”

Tim wordlessly nods.

“So that means that Todd isn’t dead.”

“What do we tell Dad?” Dick says.

“That maybe he wasn’t wrong and he did see him in the warehouse that night,” Tim answers. “I did some searching earlier this week and found footage of someone driving to the place before we got there, but either he knew where the cameras were and avoided showing his face or he was just really lucky.”

“Father definitely went after Todd.”

“What makes you say that, Dami?”

“Father has thus far kept his word on not leaving the house unless it was essential and while we all know that Alfred probably tried to stop him from leaving earlier, the lie was to put him at ease. There’s no way that Father broke that for a police gala that anyone could plan. Also, have you ever met that man? He’s obsessed with his orphans whether they’re supposed to be dead, or not.”

Tim types for a minute and then a picture pops up. It’s Barbara.

“Hey, Babs,” Dick says.

“Hey. What’s up? I thought you guys were done for the night.”

“Is Bruce with your dad right now?” Tim asks.

“No, my dad’s here with me. Say hi, Dad.”

“No,” they hear Gordon’s voice say off screen. “I talked to them plenty earlier.”

“Well he’s being anti-social, but he’s been here with me since getting back from the crime scene.”

“He went after Jason,” Tim and Dick say at the same time.

“What?” Barbara asks.

“I will explain everything later, but we have to go find Bruce now,” Dick promises. “I’ll talk to you later, Babs.”

“Bye.”

Tim ends the call and gets up. “We should change and go back out.”

“Why are you going back out?” Bruce asks from the elevator.

“Oh thank God,” Dick says. “You didn’t go after Jason, did you?”

He goes over to Bruce, who sighs. “Why would you ask that? I thought you didn’t believe me.”

“We got into a fight with the Red Hood earlier and his blood got on the suit. We searched it and it said that it’s Jason. The computer doesn’t lie, and it explains how he’s able to know our moves.”

“Well, I’m not with Jason. I’m here with you three. You should come up, I brought dinner with me.”

Damian and Tim exchange a look of disbelief while Dick nods like he believes Bruce. They go upstairs and Alfred’s sitting at the table already.

“You alright, Alfred?” Dick asks.

“I will be, thank you.”

Dick nods, then passes out food. He barely eats anything, then goes up to his room and spends the night thinking about Jason.

The day goes by with Jason just nursing his injury. He gets up and gets ready at eight pm. He gave the police another tip about one of his competitors, but decides that he wants to watch his family deal with them in person.

Jason arrives at the scene in his Red Hood attire, armed and ready in case anybody spots him. He watches his family deal with the thugs, a weight settling in his chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Once they’re done dealing with the thugs, Dick ruffles Damian and Tim’s hair.

Dickie wouldn’t mind. He’d probably cry, but he wouldn’t try to kill me. I’ve never directly interacted with Damian Wayne. Just a couple of encounters with Batman and Robin where I was fighting Batman, but he seems like the type that might try to kill me. Tim, on the other hand, would be a problem. I’ve had countless run-ins with Red Robin where I’ve point-blank tried to kill him. He wouldn’t feel safe anywhere near me.

Am I actually considering this?

Jason realizes that Dick, Tim, and Damian are all heading back in the direction of the Batcave. The police show up and Batman talks with them briefly before heading to a roof right above to watch the police do their jobs.

Probably so no loose ends get left.

Jason makes the decision at this moment. He jumps onto the roof that Bruce is on, clearly waiting for the police to finish up before leaving.

“Batman.”

Bruce turns to see that Jason’s heading towards him. Bruce clearly braces for some kind of attack but Jason just puts his head on Bruce’s chest, craving the affection he’s been deprived of for years.

Even if Bruce just lets me stay here like this, that’ll be enough.

Bruce pulls Jason into a hug, so he drops the helmet and gun in his hands. As he hugs Bruce back, tears start pouring down his face. They just stand there for a while, hugging while Jason cries.

“I’m glad you came,” Bruce says softly.

Jason half nods. He can hear Dick’s voice over Bruce’s comm.

“Hey, Dad. Everything alright? Your tracker still places you at the crime scene.”

Bruce switches his comm on. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ll be home in a bit. How are your brothers?”

“They’re both safe and at home. These last two days have been a disaster. We really have to come up with something to do about this problem.”

“It’ll be fine. We’ll all talk when I get there.”

“Okay. I’m gonna get everyone upstairs and ready for dinner. Over and out.”

Bruce switches his comm off again.

“Are you gonna come home?” Bruce asks.

Jason doesn’t even think about it, he just nods. He doesn’t want to leave Bruce’s embrace, and the warmth that it brings being back in the arms of his father who really does love him. Bruce orders the food and picks it up with one arm wrapped around Jason’s shoulder.

After getting changed in the Batcave and Jason staring at all the things that stayed the same and the few things that have changed, Bruce takes Jason upstairs.

“Let me talk to them before you come in,” Bruce says.

Jason nods, then leans against the wall. “What? Were you just not gonna tell them about me?”

“They already know. Your blood got all over my suit. I just have to explain you being in the house. I planned on explaining, I just didn’t know exactly how to go about it.”

Jason nods again. “Take your time, I’m still in pain from that stab wound. So I’m not going anywhere. And before you ask, no, I haven’t busted my stitches.”

Bruce’s turn to nod. He walks into the living room and Jason settles down in the study, grunting at the pain.

I’m alone, so who’s gonna know I’m being a little bitchy about the injury?

“Master Jason?”

Jason looks up and sees Alfred.

“Hey,” Jason mutters, plastering a smile on his face for Alfred.

“You all have never been very good at lying to me.”

Jason’s frown returns. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Are you staying?”

“That’s the hope.”

“Let me look at the injury then.”

Jason obediently pulls his shirt up enough that Alfred can see where Bruce stitched him up.

“I need to rebandage it, but that’s something I can do when it’s more convenient.”

“I’ll get the first aid kit. I assume that Master Wayne is talking to the others.”

“He’s supposed to be.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back then.”

Alfred leaves and Jason closes his eyes. The whole place smells and feels familiar. Something that’s always put Jason at ease. He feels himself starting to doze so he sits up. Alfred walks back in and starts wordlessly taking care of Jason. Jason stays still and doesn’t complain.

“You’re much better about being cooperative than you were as a child.”

“Thanks,” Jason says.

Dick sits on the couch in complete silence. He’s been like that since figuring out that Jason’s alive. Unless he’s out in that uniform, he’s been completely quiet. Damian walks over and sits down on the opposite side of the couch from Dick.

“Do you need someone to talk to?” Damian obviously sounds uncomfortable, but he’s been putting more and more effort into his relationships recently.

Dick shakes his head. Damian moves closer, tentatively leaning against Dick. Dick runs his hand through Damian’s hair silently.

Jason’s alive? He’s been alive this whole time and we’ve fought. Countless times we’ve gone up against each other and I was none the wiser. I knew that it was someone who knew our moves, but I’d always assumed that it was someone who could adapt from watching us. I never thought that it was my little brother.

Dick’s pulled from his thoughts by Tim walking in saying his name. He looks up and Tim’s holding a bowl. He offers it to Dick, who takes it. There are small cookies inside, the kind that Barbara taught Tim how to make. Dick smiles.

“Come here.”

Tim sits down on the opposite side of Dick. He wraps his arms around Tim and Damian.

“Thank you two, for trying to make me feel better. I really do appreciate it. This is just…” He trails off, not really sure how to explain to his brothers exactly how he’s feeling.

“We get it,” Tim says. “This is something that we could have never seen coming.”

“We’ll figure out what to do,” Damian promises.

Bruce walks into the room and smiles. Dick gives Bruce a half-assed smile in an attempt to not prolong this conversation.

“I have something to talk to you three about,” Bruce says.

“Is it in regards to dinner?” Damian asks.

“No,” Bruce answers.

“Then it can wait,” Tim replies. “We’re in the middle of something here.”

Bruce blinks, clearly not expecting the conversation to go like this.

“What’s up, B?” Dick asks. “Any news on our problem?”

“Yes, that’s actually what I wanted to talk about.”

All three of them perk up. Dick and Tim are clearly surprised that’s the topic and Damian just seems interested in what Bruce has to say.

“He’s in the other room.”

“In the other room like down in the Batcave because you captured him or in the other room like you let him in the house?” Tim asks.

“He came here on his own accord. I wanted to talk to you guys about it.”

“Nothing to talk about,” Dick says. “You brought him in so you’re clearly wanting to keep him here. Why don’t you bring him in?”

Bruce looks a little hesitant, but he walks out.

“Are you okay?” Tim asks Dick.

“Not really, but I will be.”

Bruce leads Jason into the room and everyone seems wary other than Damian. Damian is never intimidated or wary of anyone. Jason gives them an awkward smile he barely manages. Dick gets up and walks over. He seems to be looking Jason over, which makes him uncomfortable. The look in Dick’s eyes is one he’s never given Jason before. Dick punches Jason in the jaw and Jason lands on his ass, not at all prepared to be hit in the face.

“Dick,” Bruce says.

“He definitely deserved that, but I’m surprised it was Grayson,” Damian says.

Tim nods.

“I mourned you. I go to your grave monthly, you asshole,” Dick says. “I had to deal with the fact that I lost another brother and you were alive the whole damn time? I… I need a breather.”

Dick walks out and Jason gets up. Damian gets up and goes after Dick.

“Are you gonna try to kill me again?” Tim asks.

Jason shakes his head.

“Okay, then welcome back. I’m gonna figure out if Alfred needs help with dinner.”

Tim walks out, leaving Bruce and Jason alone.

“They’ll adjust,” Bruce says.

“Should I be here while they do?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not really hungry. Can I go to my room or something?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, your room is still the same. Feel free.”

Jason heads upstairs and other than the fact that it’s probably regularly cleaned, his room looks the same. He sits down on the bed, feeling the urge to pull all the stuff off the walls.

This feels like a hall of memories. That’s what it was. I was gone.

Jason sighs. He ends up passing out after a while of looking at his old stuff.

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goodluckclove · 7 months ago

Note

What keeps me from writing: my own insecurity I guess. I can write random scenes that never go anywhere but I struggle writing complete stories because that's when my stupid goblin brain will hit the breaks and be like: hold on a second, this is nothing like what the writing books say. For some reason I get stupidly hung up on doing things the "right" way (aka what some professional writing person has said). I have to actively, mentally go against it and tell myself to write things the way I feel are right for me. And on the bad days I can't tell anymore if what I just wrote is good or bad because all I can hear in my head is: this not how you're supposed to do it. I like to think I'm getting better at it.

Hi, Lych. I'm so happy to see you. Will you maybe sit down with me for a second? I was trying to get some work done today but I can't stop thinking about this question so I figure something is telling me that it's important.

Let me see your writing books. Give me those blog posts and videos too. Wow, there's a lot here, isn't there? A lot of people seem to consider themselves authorities on writing. Some people who you know are very successful, and others who you've never seen or heard of before. And they all seem to be saying something different, don't they? Or maybe they'll reference each other like they're all strands in some grand dreamcatcher of professional acceptability.

Okay, we've looked at it for long enough. What I have right here is a large bottle of kerosene - you might want to stand back, actually. I'm going to go ahead and start spraying down all these rules and standards until they're nice and rankly damp. It might take a second.

They're wrong, you know. Anyone who gives you a step-by-step guide on any form of art and tells you it's the only way to do it is wrong. Structure isn't bad, per say. If you're a visual artist, it could help to learn traditional anatomy. If you're a filmmaker, you should...I mean, it would help to know how to use a camera. You should know how to use the tools you want to use to some extent, and YouTube tutorials could be pretty useful for that -

You know what? I think the fumes are getting to me. Would you mind helping me out? Here, I have another bottle. Catch.

For some reason there's a very terrible trend of new, unpublished, non-working writers feeling like they need to give advice in absolutes instead of sharing what works for them. There's a strange height of unsubstantiated confidence in people like this that always leaves me kind of befuddled - my example is always a woman I saw online who explained that every story needs a second act twist. That still bothers me.

But it's not really any better with famous and massively successful writers who release books on how to write. Not only does it create the dangerous unspoken narrative that if someone buys the book and follows every step they'll have a carbon-copy career, but I've found that once you write for long enough you forget a lot of the struggles that beginning writers have. I've been writing for fifteen years, and I no longer really remember what it feels like to struggle in a lot of profound ways that many do. I have doubts still. I'll commonly ask myself if what I write is actually any good at all. But it comes up way less often than it used to.

You're doing a really good job. I think that's probably enough fuel.

I think this is more of an issue with those who already have a predisposition for creativity, and by what you've posted on your blog I can see that you're a very skilled and impressive artist already. Your bronze Icarus was especially touching to me, both emotionally and in the sense that I just kind of wish that I could touch it. You express movement in a lot of subtle ways. It's really cool!

Maybe switching to writing feels like starting over. Like you have to get someone's permission before you can just start. Damn, my match broke.

Where was I? Oh, right.

You know how to read, don't you? You've read stories, or had stories read to you? If so, then that's your permission right there. If you make an effort to absorb a variety of stories from different perspectives, as well as engage in the world and people around you, as well as take time for introspection towards your own inner world...well, that's everything you need. From that point on you can go to workshops and get feedback or whatever, but that's not something you really have to worry about yet.

Now that I think about it, you might be better with a matchbook than I am. A sculptor much have steadier hands than someone like me. Ah, there! Fantastic.

You know where to go from here, my friend.

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #on writing #authors of tumblr #writing resources #writing inspiration #writers supporting writers

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cosmos-coma · 2 years ago

Text

Sick Days- Yennefer

A/N: I just had to write for one of our favorite ladies! Otherwise I would feel like a bad bisexual lol. Hope you all like our lovely and slightly possessive Yennefer. (And yes I am still sick. RIP me)

Pairing: Yennefer x Reader

Words: ~1k

Summary: Yennefer always worries about you so she’s adamant about helping you when you fall ill.

_______________________

Usually, Yennefer didn’t like you visiting her at work in the kingdom, opting instead to portal to you wherever you were. However, when she found out that you had suddenly fallen Ill rather she brought you back with her right away so she could keep a close eye on your condition. She had settled you in her own room in the tower, private and away from all the political unrest downstairs.

“It's not that bad, Yen… I swear,” you mumbled as you weakly went to shoo her hand away. Your fever had overtaken you late last night and just sapped everything out of you. Your body was warm, sweaty, weak, and just having a bad time through and through.

“Y/n, if you’re going to argue that, you have to be able to see only one of me first,” She said with a small smile as she felt your forehead, ignoring your waving hand.

“I can see one… and a half…” you said, closing your eyes and sighing tiredly. “I’m just tired, I’ve been too warm to sleep lately.”

“I know, my Love….” Her long delicate fingers, wonderfully cool against your skin, traced up and down your arm and shoulder. “I'm gonna get something set up to help you, okay? Try to rest for a few more minutes….” She instructed and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead before standing up to start putting things together.

Your mind let you fade into a light sleep while Yennefer worked quietly and made sure no one in the entire castle could bother you, not even the king himself. After about an hour though you woke up again, your sheets sticking uncomfortably to your skin and your throat aching for water.

“Yen..?” you called out as you sat up, looking around the ornately decorated room. When no one responded you slowly put your legs over the edge of the bed and got yourself up, your sleep giving you a bit of a second wind. You stood in front of the window for a minute, letting the breeze cool your naked skin as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Y/N?” You heard Yennefer call from the adjoining bathroom, “come on in, I’m just finished.”

Your quiet feet padded over towards the bathroom and peeked inside. There you saw Yennefer leaning over the copper bathtub, pouring a bottle of dark purple liquid into it that swirled and mixed with the water inside.

“Yen, I don’t know if I’m cooled off enough for a hot bath…” You said trepidatiously as you entered, but if she thought it was best you figured you could at least try it….

The smile that graced her expression held a small amount of mischief as she took in your naked form coming closer. “Mmm, My Lovesome Y/N…” she hummed out happily, taking your wrist in a subtly possessive manner just to keep you close. “Don’t you worry, It’s a cool bath. I also added something that should help break your fever and hopefully make you feel better by the end of the day”

Her fingers swirled lazily in the water, further mixing in the potion and inviting you inside, not that you need much of an invitation. You took her hand for stability and stepped inside, sinking into the cool water as it slowly rose towards the brim.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan as relief flooded your senses, the cool water combined with the slight bubbly feeling the potion provided left your body’s tension slipping away. “Oh, Yen…” You breathed and looked over at her, your head leaning on the edge of the tub.

Her mischievous but loving smile grew as she watched you, “Don’t go saying my name like that, Love, or I’m only gonna wind up heating you up again…” She spoke with a low voice and fished your hand out of the tub to press it against her cheek. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was beginning to grow worried…”

Your thumb stroked over her cheek in delicate wet streaks as an easy smile came over you. “I know, Dear. You always worry.” a light laugh rippled through you, but Yen’s expression didn’t change.

“Yen…” you sighed and she leaned further into your touch, avoiding the conversation. “I know you’re worried, and it doesn't help that you’ve been busier than usual the last few days, but I’m still here and so are you and I know that with you everything is going to be just fine…” You smiled a bit, turning her face to look more directly at you.

Yen bit her lip as your words permeated, her shoulders loosening to an actually relaxed state.”You know how I like those sappy words…” She commented and set your hand down to get up and move to a spot just behind you. “I love you Y/N…” She whispered into your ear, afraid to let the world hear her- lest it decides to take you away.

Her hands lovingly ran over your shoulders, fingers pressing and smoothing over your skin with a confident touch. “Now let me take care of you for a little while. We’ll cool you down, and then we can see about wearing you out for another nap,” she whispered again, her confident and wanting personality coming back from its pause of vulnerability. And as her hands now ran down your chest and into the cool water with you, you began to feel warm all over again.

_________________

Wanna be put on the general taglist? Just DM to ask!

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @dark-academia-slut

#hehehe i love this yennefer #whose modeled a bit more after the game version #yennefer #witcher yennefer #Yennefer of Vengerberg #yennefer x reader #Yennefer x you #Yennefer x y/n #witcher self insert #the witcher fic #the witcher fanart #the witcher #the witcher 3 #caring yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg x reader #Yennefer of Vengerberg x you #Yennefer of Vengerberg x y/n #game!yennefer #mostly

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starlitangels · 2 years ago

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hi! about the micro fics, since i'm soo starved of zed and miss him sm, could u write a fic about him. i was fussing over OTP prompts and i found the cutest prompt ever: Zed putting flowers in Guardian's hair🥺🥺 (you can write it the other way around if you want) 🤭🤭🤭 thank youu!!

Sure! Let's give it a shot.

—

"Guardian, look!" Zed exclaimed, grabbing at my sleeve to point something out to me. "The Lightning Lilies are blooming!" He beamed up at me. "No one thought this patch was going to make it back after last winter. But the little things soldiered on."

I let him drag me across the small town road to the patch just outside the buildings. He knelt at the edge and delicately cradled on of the lilies in his hands.

"They make great lightning resistance potions," I remarked, kneeling next to him and running my fingertips over the underside of the petals of one. "They're not bad as an ingredient for lightning ball throwing potions too, though not quite as effective."

"How... how did you know that?" Zed asked curiously.

I raised a brow and glanced at him. "You do remember I'm immortal, right? I've been around for a long time. When it comes to old school magic like that, I know all the tricks." I plucked the Lightning Lily low on its stem and held it up to my nose, inhaling. They smelled so sweet.

I passed it to Zed. "Sniff?"

He took it and held it up to his nose. "Sweeter than I expected," he remarked.

I nodded. "They always are. Almost sickly so."

Zed nodded thoughtfully. I held a hand out for it. He passed the lily back. I crushed it in my fist, stem, petals, and all. Zed jolted. "G-Guardian! What... what are you doing?"

"Watch," I said.

As I loosened my grip, electricity crackled across the plant's fibers, but it was green.

Zed was wide-eyed. "I've never seen them do that," he said.

"You have to pick the right one that holds the most lightning magic," I said. "I can just... sense it." I shrugged. I dug into my bag and pulled out what essentially passed for a traveler's compact mortar and pestle and dropped the bits of the flower into it. A quick spell drew a tiny bit of water from the air and into the mix, making a messy paste. From my bag, I withdrew a tiny, hollow glass ball. With a little encouraging—and a little magic—I got the paste into the tiny glass ball. "This is a very basic and easy conduction pellet," I said, not quite looking at Zed while I sealed up the bottle. "Throw it at someone or the ground near their feet and you can lock up their muscles long enough to get away. In theory."

I looked up and held it out—

Only for Zed not to be where I left him.

I looked around. "Zed? Zed?!"

He was in the grass directly behind me. On his knees but not sitting on his heels like I was. He was mostly upright—his hands held out toward me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"O-oh. Well. You just... um... you were so deep in thought, I... there were smaller wildflowers among the lilies and I thought... I thought they'd look nice in your hair." He scooted away from me. "S-sorry."

I reached up, holding the glass capsule in the curve of my thumb, and delicately felt around my scalp. Nestled around my entire head, petals brushed against my fingertips.

I smiled. "That's sweet, Zed," I said.

His cheeks and ears reddened and he turned away.

Biting my lip, I looked back to the Lightning Lilies. Star Captains could choose to feel emotions or not, and I'd chosen not to feel a long time ago. Zed hadn't seen how numb I was—yet—but he'd figure it out sooner or later. It should have been heartwarming that he'd just wanted to lace flowers into my hair.

But instead there was nothing.

I reached up and brushed the tiny flowers again. Try and feel something, I thought. Anything? Did I even remember how to turn my emotions back on anymore? Three hundred years—more?—of nothing was a long habit to break.

I pinched a delicate stem between two fingertips.

I'll keep trying.

#answered #Star does Micro Fics #Good Boy Audios #GBA MotH #GBA Zed #GBA Guardian

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dainty-at-heart · 7 months ago

Text

Vent

It’s been a little over 2 years since I made this account. I couldn’t find my password at the time so I finally decided to ‘recover’ in a sense. But once again I’m back at square one. I hate my body so intensely I could kill myself. Over the passed 2 years so much has happened to me, I feel as though I could write a novel.

In September of 2023, when I had been recovering from ^n^ with m!^ tendencies for just a couple of months I decided that in order to remedy my lingering sad thoughts I should just solve the root of all my problems; my body shape. If I had been born with an hourglass body shape then I wouldn’t care what size I was. Since it will forever look feminine and elegant. I left all the ^n^ discord servers, deleted Twitter entirely and stopped looking on Pinterest for spo to heal, when in reality I was just distracting myself from the deep sated hole burning within my chest.In order to do that since I’m now 15 I decided to buy 2 pairs of hip pads costing a total of £60. For a while it did make me feel so much more confident and comfortable within my body. I wore them 24/7, received compliments after returning back to school with a ‘glow up’ although all that really changed was that I started trying to feel more womanly by now having hips to balance out my manly shoulders and started wearing makeup like all the other girls.Since previously I had been denied such girlie pleasures such as makeup. I remember crying when I received my first bottle of lip gloss only for it to end up being used entirely by a prettier acquaintance of mine whom had only hung out with me when she needed me for things (perfume, gum, mints, money or a partner to talk to so she wouldn’t be alone etc). I always had a hatred for my small lips in comparison to my mum’s luscious lips befitting a black woman so to see someone walk all over me and use something I had desperately been wanting for years broke me. I didn’t feel like I desecrated such womanly luxuries since I myself looked like that of a man.But now that I had my hip pads and other makeup I believed that I could overcome anything in my path…how wrong I was.

In October, my dad had found me wearing my hip pads and immediately decided to cut one of the pairs I had gotten with my own money. I was devastated. Now that I look back at that moment I realise how ridiculous it was. I bought these huge hip pads in hopes of getting an hourglass since my current measurements (the same as my previous ones since after all the hip pads didn’t suddenly make my real hips get any wider) are 40-36-34, which is the widest part of my shoulders, smallest part of my waist and the widest part of my hips. Instead I had a more pear shape figure and I looked very frumpy at the beginning of the year as if I had magically gained so much weight when it reality I was just scared someone would notice the hip pads so I bought very oversized school uniform. The second pair of hip pads (my current ones) I bought were smaller and looked much more natural although I still do look top heavy when I wear them, at least it gives my bum a more heart shape appearance as well as more curves to my manly physique. I devised my own way of wearing hip pads with most outfits using my underwear to keep the pads in place as well as my shape wear shorts, which I would roll upwards to make it appear as though they were my underwear. I had always hated buying clothes since i knew they would look like shit on me since I couldn’t wear anything girlie and cute. Online all websites portray the clothes floating in space which always happens to magically have an hourglass figure which I did not possess so of course I’d never look good in anything if that is the way it is marketed. Vivid memories of me hyper ventilating and balling my eyes out alone in a changing room plague my head whenever I envisioned buying clothes since it happened so often. I hated mirrors so much and I still do when I’m naked.The hip pads gave me confidence to find my own style and stop worrying about being a size 10 rather than a size 0 like I had once coveted so dearly a year prior. Since I have strict parents I never wore anything revealing and was able to keep up the look of being curvy since no one would ever know.I had always loved the way curves looked in figure hugging clothes only for me to end up wearing them and looking like a man cosplaying a woman. I thought that I was invincible with my hip pads only to discover that obviously you could clearly see the hip pads as clear as day when wearing such clothing. I cried. I tried analysing how drag queens could effortlessly pull off such looks with hip pads only to receive the same answer over and over. I felt so worthless being a woman doing drag queens of all people to ask for help as to how they make their bodies look so womanly (I have no hatred towards drag queens I just feel embarrassed knowing that they are men and I’m asking them of all people since I’ve got rock bottom once again).

I felt sick to my stomach knowing that up until now I’ve been cat fishing people and lying to my friends and myself about what my real body looks like. The false sense of confidence I received came with a double dose of regret and pain. I look so much better with curves. I want to be a woman and feel like a woman. I want to be beautiful like all the other black girls my age and older. I feel robbed like a piece of me is missing, literally (my hips). I still wear the hip pads for fear of people finding out about my lies since now I must carry the burden of lying. I am truly a liar so it’s only fair to punish myself with this lifestyle of constant suffering and deprivation.

In June of 2023 early into my ‘recovery’, i met this boy when I really liked on discord. At first he was very flirty and I loved it. We have a 5 hour time difference but I’d always make sure to text him and he’d make time for me too. He started asking me for pictures to know what I looked like at first which was fine since they were ordinary. He was 15 and I was 14. He would compliment me and call me pretty but then it progressed to him asking for pictures of me more often and at first I gave in until I felt really uncomfortable. I would only ever send pictures of myself mostly clothed e.g me in a bra and shorts, me in a bodysuit with thigh highs, nothing too revealing. I felt really uncomfortable after a while since I just didn’t like sending pictures of myself to a stranger so I blocked him on every social media I had by the end of July.Except for Instagram which I never noticed until after September when I turned 15. He is now 16 and we started talking again last year in October. It was awkward at first and he never asked me for pictures but he was always very sweet and would make my day. We aren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend but he always makes me feel as though we could one day be…I know I’m stupid but low-key I’m so depressed that he was such a good distraction to the internal dilemma I was facing as well as the problems I have at home. I’m still very much depressed and sleep my evenings and weekends away since I just don’t have the energy to do anything and feel tired 24/7 although I manage to make myself presentable and happy to please people around me for school days. Suddenly one of my friends decided to Dm my ‘kinda boyfriend’ and he was constantly leaving me on seen in order to respond to her. I genuinely don’t like her to this day and do intend on dropping her at some point but she’s a little leech and won’t stop being weird. I naturally got pissed and very much upset because I was struggling with my issues on top of boy drama. I jokingly asked him to pledge his allegiance to me and stop talking to her and he said that he’d only do it if he saw me naked. Stupid me agreed and sent him two full body photos on view once of me wearing my bra and Nike shorts hoping that would make him stop talking to her. They continued to talk since she was so insistent that he and her would talk so technically he broke his promise but now they have next to no contact unless she texts him first.I genuinely wanted to keep him to myself so bad since he was my happiness and originally veiled my reason to be more confident about myself back in June when I was beginning my recovery. It turned into a recurring thing where I’d send him photos that he’d ask for on view once. This would be a conversation starter rather than a sweet text hello or how are you.I’ve probably sent at least 10 different photos of me in varying degrees of indecent and I feel awful. I downloaded many apps to edit my photos to the ‘idealised version of me’ with wider hips and even on videos I would wear my hip pads to make it seem like I had hips on Snapchat.I added two factor authentication and changed all my emails and passwords to extremely hard ones to ensure no one would know about such things. I’m horrified. Recently he noticed that i’ve been distant so we had a talk…kinda

I feel better knowing that technically he doesn’t know what my body truly looks like so he technically doesn’t have my indecent pictures since they aren’t even real to begin with so I’m lucky in a sense and that he’s never saved any of them to his phone permanently. Although when we had our serious discussion he made me feel more comfortable when I expressed to him how I no longer wish to only be used/talked to for just sexual things since I genuinely like him and wish to learn more about him although he doesn’t feel the same I’m sure. He still asks for pictures and videos and I’m genuinely embarrassed and no longer wish to but I don’t know how to tell him without making him either mad or sad. He’s never blocked me but we can go weeks without contact so idk anymore. I’ve received pictures from him too but they were quite sparse at the beginning.He’s only attracted to my face and ‘my body’. I’m truly ashamed but this is still going on. He doesn’t really pressure me since he knows when to back off when I say that I don’t wish to send him a specific picture he requests for so it’s not all bad but I’m pained to say I only sent them in order to keep him interested in me since I’m so uninteresting in comparison to my friend who won’t seem to leave him alone. I’ve known him for nearly 7 months now and I feel as if I could never leave him since now he’s so deeply attached to me. I’ve never shown him any ‘intimate’ parts of me besides my boobs ig in cleavage and my fake ass once or twice.I had once attempted to use various ^n^ coaches and many asked for body checks and because of how scared I was to send them pics I would often to get shouted at. I had true to avoid having to deal with similar experiences so that is most likely why I allowed him to use me in this sense. It doesn’t justify it but I had really tried to avoid conflict.I hoped for him to be my Prince Charming and save me but obviously I have so many issues that need sorting out before I could ever hope to like/love someone else if i can’t even love me. I don’t think I ever will unless I get a skinny BBL :((

As a result I must starve and become so skinny I’m unrecognisable and will no longer have to keep up this persona of me that doesn’t exist. I need help so bad. Any advice to fix any of this mess?

#@na #@na buddy #@na vent #@na rules #advice #send help #please help

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bandaryapping · 4 months ago

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Welcome to Bandar Yapping!

A very late start to my 2024 end year goals

Hello to the void that is the Vastness of the Internet. Welcome to Bandar Yapping.

As the title suggests, I’ve been negligent towards my own ambitions for the year. To be fair, I do need medication for this annoying of a sickness that we call Depression but I digress. Rather than beating myself down for my lacklustre productivity, I’d rather remind myself (as per councillor’s advice) that it would be better to acknowledge my own working pace.

Hence, here I am. I will be honest; blogging was not in my 2024 end goals list. The idea of writing whatever passed through my consciousness came abruptly into my head. Rather than keeping it all bottled inside my head (or talking about it with my sister), I might as well just send these thought bubbles into a different space entirely. This space is what I called as Bandar Yapping; a virtual space on tumblr that I hope to share with close friends, family members(maybe?), and to whoever finds my writings worthy of their time.

My initial 2024 goals were:

Make a Zine

More artwork making/training for job prospects

Try getting into art related work

Since the last time I actually even deeply ruminated on what I should be doing in 2024, I’ve done nothing that could even come close to the goals I’ve mentioned. I promised I will not be hard on myself, so I have decided not to comment on anything or even explain myself on my progress. What I’m going to do instead is reassess my goals and move on forward.

My new 2024 goals are:

Update my resume (lol)

Figure out what angle I would like to take on for my personal zine project

Writing

The first two goals are self explanatory except for the third. The writing mentioned is basically this silly little blog but thats not all to it. I have a bad habit of making things difficult for myself and despite this space is named Yapping City, the topics I would like to write may need further reading. There are two books I would like to focus on. The first being Edward Said’s Orientalism and John Berger’s Ways of Seeing. I will not divulge any further for some deep rooted voice in me says that I’ll jinx whatever creative project I’m interested in into non completion if I continue on spilling my plan.

This shall be it for now. As I personally figure out how long should I force myself into finishing my self given homework, I bid goodbye.

Best of wishes from Bandar Yapping,

Mayor Q.

#Blog #personal blog

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fancifulflora · 2 years ago

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"Close your eyes." with grey

For the sake of my writing, I'm going to keep Grey as their default setting so they're tall with shoulder-length black hair. They also have a light brown skin tone, grey eyes, and tattoos on both arms. Just for future reference!)

"Remember to keep those eyes of yours closed." Roman purred, letting their firm hand on your lower back guide you forward- each step you make cautious of the thick carpet underneath your feet.

A few moments ago, your partner ambushed you with a gift- a surprise awaiting you down the hall from the elevator. One you'd have to cover your eyes for.

Now, most who knew the wanted criminal would have the sense to run at such a promise. They'd know of Grey's reputation, of the awful things they've done- the awful things they were capable of. Most would do anything but comply just as you were now.

Your relationship with Grey Roman, however, wasn't like most.

With renewed confidence, you pressed on, knowing that your lover would catch you should you ever fall.

"Did I forget a birthday? Anniversary?" you mused, turning your head to where Grey's would probably be. Life had a way of flying by if one were to look away long enough and, as far as you knew, there wasn't supposed to be anything on the calendar.

You could practically feel the roll of Grey's eyes as they gave your side a small squeeze- their voice playful, teasing. "Stop worrying too much, you do trust me, don't you?"

You did trust them.

Deciding to play along for now, you reared your head forward. With each step, scouring through your memories to try and map out where you were and figure out how much further until you reached the doors to your apartment.

"Stop. Right here." Grey's voice ordered after the two of you had taken a couple of turns, breaking up your train of thought.

Your feet remain planted in the ground, ears picking up the jingle of metal- keys most likely. Then there was a turn of a lock- a faint but resonant click in the air.

The door opened with a soft creak as it cut through the anticipation you were feeling.

You could smell food from the entryway.

Was this your surprise?

Grey's footsteps moved around you, their hands on your shoulders guiding your forward, turning you past the foyer, and finally stopping.

The two of you were standing in your living room, a stronger sweet, savory scent permeating the air.

More footsteps now, growing distant towards the far side of the wall, then a soft light filled the room.

Taking that as the cue to open your eyes, you cautiously take in the sight before you.

It was beautiful.

A small fanciful cake was the centerpiece of your coffee table, adjacent to a simple rectangular box wrapped in black silk ribbon. Platters of various foods filled up the rest of the space, a bucket off to the side- a bottle nestled in a pile of ice.

Fairy lights snaked around the room, a few candles filling the room with a subtle glow.

"You're the sweetest." Shaking your head in disbelief at the sight before you brought a smile to your partner's face, a dark heat rising to your cheeks.

"Figured you needed a treat, a pick-me-up," Grey explained, long strides taking them over to your side, an arm draping over your shoulders with a solid squeeze.

"Go on, open the box. Wind down a little."

Upon being released from their hold, you follow Grey's instructions, your lover following your lead as you took a seat on the couch- taking the box from their hands.

It was oddly hefty- far heavier than expected. You were almost tempted to shake it a little to get a better feel for what was inside.

Instead, you opted to pull at the black ribbon, removing the lid with tender care. You could feel Grey's intense gaze on your side as you looked down at the gift they had gotten for you.

A necklace, ornate in design. It was adorned with flawless gemstones that practically glowed, even under the dim candlelight.

A rather familiar necklace.

"Grey." You start, wide eyes turning to look at the Cheshire grin stretched across Roman's face- stormy grey eyes filled with pride.

"Yes, darling?"

"You didn't."

"Oh," They give a dark laugh, leaning in, brushing their lips against yours in a featherlight kiss that still managed to leave you breathless. "I did."

You look back down at the necklace in hand, remembering the off-handed comment you had made about how pretty it was back in Venice- about how the jewels shined under the display light.

Honestly, you didn't think Grey was paying attention from the way their eyes flitted from camera to camera, soaking every detail of the security system set up in the exhibit.

And yet...

"It's- there's no way I can wear this, can I?"

Grey pauses, the gears turning in their head before giving the idea a small shrug. "You could probably get away with it in a few months? Maybe a year if they really miss the thing. People wouldn't recognize this necklace from a glance alone though."

Nodding along to their words, you lift up the necklace, pushing it into Roman's hands and turning your back to the thief.

"Put it on me?"

They lean in close, Grey's breath brushing up against your neck- a light kiss pressed against your skin.

"Of course."

#Sinners #Grey Roman #Drabble #Fluff #Sinnersif #SFW #Grey prob took most of the exhibit back to the states- if just to throw off the scent from Interpol #a nice laser to wipe off any id on the gemstones- everything just so you can have smth nice to decorate your neck

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soleilnomoon · 2 years ago

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Hi hi Kaia! Just wanna say, that soft nsfw Kidd fic you wrote legit just made me want to cry 😭😭 Soft Kidd is something I didn’t know I needed, you wrote him so well tbh! Following that note, if it’s alright could I ask for a nsfw request for Kidd but with a reader smoler than him? In my own headcanon I like he’d def have a size kink and be damn teaser because he’s like 7ft tall👀 lool If not, no worries! Thank you either way!

awww i’m glad you liked it, i had so much fun writing it (who knew i needed soft kid in my life like hello 😭👋🏾). also yes yes yes yes, a billion times yes, i gotchu ♥️ the way that man lives rent free in my head is unreal 🥵

2.3k words, fem reader, nsfw (it's kid, idk what to tell u), 18+ mdni pls, a little playful banter, some alcohol, other cute stuff includes spitting, size kink (reader is short), clothes ripping (what can i say), kid being a general menace; i tried to keep it short but *washes hands*

you know better than to distract him while he’s in the middle of a project, but you have very little self preservation when it comes to eustass kid. it’s late at night when you find him tinkering away in his workshop; with his music blasting, head bobbing along as he wordlessly mouths the lyrics to the song, you walk in undetected. even as you close the door, he doesn’t turn around — and while, you should make sure to lock it, you don’t bother. everyone for the most part is asleep or far enough away that you’re not worried about being interrupted.

this is your first mistake for the night.

sauntering around like the mischievous cat you are, you loosely hold a bottle of rum in your hand; you picked it up on the last island the ship docked at, someone gifting you the whole thing as thanks for assisting them. you unscrew the cap and take a big swig, the dark liquid flooding your senses as it glides down your throat with ease. one of the smoothest drinks you’ve had in a while, if you do say so yourself.

the thing is, while you might think you’re being stealthy, kid has been aware of your presence this whole time. he’d be a shit captain, otherwise, right? still, his curiosity rivals yours, and he wants to see what you’re up to. pretending to jam to the music, kid catches you sidling up to him and smirks to himself, but purposely keeps his focus on the wrench in his hand. the smile on your face is evidence enough of your misdeeds — that you truly believe you’ve gotten away with infiltrating kid’s space, but before you can announce yourself, kid bursts your bubble quickly.

“you’re shit at sneaking around, y’know that right?” he turns his head, tilting it a bit, features morphed to denote a faux-bored expression. he leans his elbow on the worktable, and props his head up with his large hand.

mouth open — because, how else are you to react to him saying that? — words jumble around in your mouth, and you start stuttering. before you can make more of a fool of yourself, you jab a finger at him, hitting his chest on your first attempt. amusement blooms onto his face with ease, disrupting the game he wanted to play with you.

“shut up, you’re the worst,” you say before pouting at him, brows furrowed as a wave of childishness takes over you. “now i don’t even want to share this with you.” he drops his gaze down to the bottle in your hand but grabs it before you can step away.

“rum? really.” he’s a scotch kind of man, with gin and vodka being suitable alternatives. you know that he’s not into rum like that, but you figured you’d ask him to try this brand for fun. now all you feel is residual embarrassment; cheeks burning, you lunge your arm out to grab it, wanting to just go sit somewhere on the deck and drink alone, but kid doesn’t let you. instead, he pops the cap off, tosses it somewhere and drinks from the bottle.

you blink several times, watching in shock as he drinks for longer than you think he will. “kid!” you yank on the bottle, annoyance building slowly as you struggle to take it back from him. “don’t drink it all,” you whine helplessly, not wanting your big brute of a captain to ruin your night. kid acquiesces, leaning back in his chair, dark orange hair falling messily over his forehead, eyes drifting down your body, drinking in the sight of you. despite the rum being a bit sweeter than he’s used to, the quality of it impresses him, but he won’t say that. not yet.

ignoring the way your body reacts to his heated looks, you pick up where you left off, taking another swig of the rum, swaying to the music that carries around the room — the notes wrapping around you, coasting along your skin as you hum along. he watches you, amusement never dwindling, tongue running along his bottom lip before he decides that enough is enough.

“c’mere, you’re drinking it wrong,” he says, voice dripping with intent, as he pulls you to him and plucking the bottle away from you again and setting it down. for safekeeping. before you’re even able to protest, before you’re able to fuss at him over pestering you like this, kid’s hand drifts lower and grabs onto your ass playfully. you smack his chest, face burning, thighs pressing closely together, an ache shooting through you faster than you can stop it.

before you know it, he has you seated on top of the table, whatever he was working on is momentarily forgotten and haphazardly pushed aside. you lean back on your hands, head tilted as kid stands in between your legs, anticipation crawling down your arms, wrapping itself around your chest with familiarity. breathing slowed, long lashes fluttering as you fix your eyes on him, a little tipsy and giggly, but mostly drunk off of him and his presence. “i’m waiting,” you say, voice lilting, words coasting and caressing him softly. he almost asks you what exactly you’re waiting for, the way you inadvertently short-circuited his mind for a brief second made him forget why he took the rum from you in the first place.

he reminds himself to focus, to not lose to you, because losing is absolutely unacceptable, obviously.

“open,” he instructs, and you don’t have to ask him for clarification; on command, your lips part and you leave your mouth open for him. the corners of his lips twitch as he pours more rum into your mouth; some of the tawny liquid spilling down your lips and onto your chin. you don’t mind it though, completely mesmerized by the experience, entirely too giddy over the way he hulks over you like that. his height used to intimidate you, until you wiggled your way into his life and the two of you gradually became closer; now, you can’t get enough of it.

kid places the bottle down again, fully prepared to ignore it as he leans closer and runs his tongue along your skin, lapping up the runaway drops of rum, until your lips meet. when kid kisses you, it’s as if time stops and then speeds up. it starts off short — his lips pecking yours once, twice, tongue swiping against your lips, demanding entrance. on your next exhale, he pushes closer, your breasts pressing against him through your thin shirt, nipples hardening on impact.

if it were up to him, he’d drink the remainder of the rum from your mouth. you taste sweet, forbidden, and hypnotic — plush lips inviting him to nip them needlessly, sparking a small flame deep within your abdomen that slowly spreads to the rest of your body. with shaky hands, you tug on his clothes, wanting to feel his skin on yours sooner rather than later; and kid obliges, also helping you with your own clothes, ripping your shirt accidentally through the haze of lust.

“whoops,” he says, laughing darkly at your annoyed expression. you don’t believe for a second that it was completely accidental, but kid likes pushing your buttons anyway, so did it really matter what the truth was?

sensing a retort building inside of you, he kisses you again, hand roaming along your soft body, liking the way you feel against him; all that softness will be the death of him, he’s sure of it.

likewise, you get lost in his kisses, small hands gliding along the hard planes of his body, the dips, sharp ridges of his muscles, only make your hunger that much more intolerable. you whine against his lips, your pussy wet from the sloppy kisses you exchange, his own cock hardening excitedly, precum spilling down the thick head as it leans against your stomach.

“kid,” you breathe, lips ghosting his, “just fuck me already, damn it.” the need you have for him might actually make you lose your mind at the rate he’s going. normally, you’re the one telling him to slow down — but for some reason, it’s like your body is entirely too eager. maybe it’s the rum, or maybe you’ve just fallen deeper inside whatever trap he’s laid out for you tonight. you’re not sure, and you don’t actually care to know the answer; so you forget about it, focusing on getting kid to move.

it’s laughable, the way you’re begging him, when he knows once he gets started, you’re going to sing an entirely different tune. he runs his finger — thick, rough, impatient — between the folds of your pussy, admiring the way your arousal drips onto his skin, before plunging the finger inside of you without warning. you arch your back, mouth falling open at the intrusion, panting lightly when he inserts another finger shortly after. nails digging into his skin, your hips moving forward, as if his fingers are controlling your movements, a small voice in the back of your head reminding you that you’re playing with a fire that’s much too big for you to handle.

you ignore it; when it comes to eustass kid, your self-preservation goes right out the window.

plunging his fingers in and out of you recklessly, your head spinning from all of the rum, the kissing, and him — you maybe consider that you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. “w-wait, kid slow down,” your voice barely audible, drowning behind your moans and the music that’s still blasting through the room. when he finally does manage to pull his fingers out, you only have a brief moment of reprieve before he’s rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, positioning it right in front of your entrance, he winks at your wary expression, making you even more suspicious of his motives. another complaint lodges in the back of your throat, stuck when kid pushes his cock inside of you, his girth ripping a loud moan out of you.

kid, meanwhile, is floating above the clouds, thoroughly enjoying your pussy’s feeble attempts at strangling him — those attempts do work, by the way, he’s just prideful and stubborn. snapping his hips against yours, kid pushes his cock into you deeply; the pain is worth it, though. it’s terribly addicting, the way he pulls back and thrusts into you harder, his balls slapping against your skin from the devastating pace he’s set.

“kid, fuck, wait, wait,” you breath comes out in small pants, eyelids fluttering from the rough way that kid is fucking you. this is what you wanted, though, isn’t it? to tease him and let him have his way? if kid wasn’t so used to your subtle tricks, he’d actually be concerned. but he knows how much you like how rough he is, he knows how you like him to hold you firmly, so you can feel the full brunt of his thrusts, and he knows that no matter what, you’ll still ask him to fuck you like this again, and again, and again.

and he’s right. you can’t deny it; even if you wanted to you wouldn’t. when his hips meet yours, you wrap your legs around his waist, wanting to completely lose yourself in him, sweat already gliding down your neck, onto your clavicle, breasts bouncing against him.

“that’s it,” he coos, none-to-kindly, his tone dark, sinister, mocking, “see how well you’re taking me?” he shifts and pushes you down onto the table, your back arching off of it as he drives into you repeatedly, his thrusts turning your body into something helpless and pitiful, your words unintelligible, voice hoarse as you call his name out. he pulls out of you suddenly, much to your displeasure, folding your legs against your chest and instructing you to hold onto the backs of your thighs.

your pussy is a pretty sight to see, so naturally he slaps it hard before spitting on it. he’s so romantic, isn’t he?

you can barely think as his cock invades your pussy all over again — your warm, plush walls closing in around his length, as he angles his hips in a way that has your toes curling and a bit of drool creeping out of your mouth. it’s so tragically embarrassing, except you can’t be bothered to feel any bit of shame right now.

with each brutal thrust, you find yourself teetering on the edge, ecstasy coloring any logic you have left in your mind, and when he kisses you again, tongue caressing yours hotly, an orgasm crashes into you. kid groans against your lips, thrusting fervently, strokes sloppier and shorter, wanting to hold out but finding himself unable to. if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that your pussy is absolutely lethal when provoked. it’s not often that you squirt, but when you do it drives him wild. “oh fuck, look at how much of a mess you’ve made.” his laughter should grate your nerves, but it doesn’t, it only makes you want to cover your face, because you hate how good he makes you feel. although, his laughter is short-lived; he powers into you, his own orgasm finding him much quicker than he anticipates, his cum is thick and hot, dripping out of you when he pulls out, spilling down onto the wooden surface of the table.

both of you sort of stay quiet, trying to catch your breaths; he runs a hand through his hair, feeling properly refreshed, almost as if a bit of weight has been lifted from his shoulders. you drop your legs, struggle to sit up, and look at him accusingly. “you’re such a damn beast,” but there isn’t a hint of venom or malice behind your words. if anything, you almost sound impressed. he chuckles at your act and just kisses you to keep you quiet.

#it's done; so sorry this took forever #fic request #one piece imagine #one piece smut #eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x y/n #‘i can change him’ 🥴#kidd x y/n #kidd x reader

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outsideratheart · 2 years ago

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Can you write 56 for jill roord

56 “Just marry me already.”

Christmas with the Roords have become a biyearly thing since you started dating Jill.

This year though Jill has an extra present for you, something that you would hopefully accept and keep for the rest of your life. You are even more excited to see Jill's family as her brother Davy had a baby a few months ago and you couldn't wait to meet her.

You and Jill arrived at her parent's house late last night yet Jill woke up alone and your side of the bed was long cold.

She gingerly made her way downstairs and the site that welcomes her was enough to make her fall in love with you all over again. You were stood in the kitchen giving her niece a bottle whilst her family watched at how calm the tiny human was in your arms.

"Look Maeve, it's your Auntie Jill. Don't worry, despite her being the last one up to meet you, she still loves you" you tease your girlfriend, shaking your head slightly as she takes a cup of coffee from her mum taking a large mouthful.

"You should have woken me up. You know I hate sleeping without you" she whispers in your ear whilst slowly stroking the babies head.

"Really?" you look at her in disbelief "You were snoring when I got up, I would say you slept just fine"

You can see Jill thinking of a comeback but she comes up with nothing, clearly the caffeine hasn't kicked in yet.

You finish feeding the baby before asking Jill if she wants to hold her, to which she nods her head.

You manage to snap a quick photo of of the duo before the baby starts to fuss.

"What did I do? I am holding her the same way you did?" Jill tries, and fails, to hide her panic.

"Give her back to Y/N, watch her work her magic" her brother Davy says from the kitchen table.

Jill does as suggested and as Davy said, the baby settles straight away.

"I won't take offence Maeve, Y/N does give good cuddles" Jill looks at you with what can only be described as heart eyes.

She leaves you in the kitchen, choosing instead to sit with her brothers and father at the table.

"Another member of the Roord family loves Y/N, why am I not surprised?" Boyd says.

"Did you bring it with you?" Jill's dad asks her.

"I did"

The brothers exchange a look, they had no idea what the father and daughter were talking about.

Jill holds her finger up to her lips before talking.

"I'm going to propose to Y/N"

"Finally!" Davy practically shouts earning a scolding look from his sister.

Jill goes on to explain her plan. How she is going to it on boxing day because this is your favourite day of the holidays. She had planned the whole thing out during the euros, with the help of Sherida whilst Daan and Viv kept you distracted. The only thing she has left to do is figure out what to say. She wanted to tell you how you changed her life, all the ways you make her life better and how much she loves you but she was struggling putting those feelings into words.

"What am I suppose to day. Y/N I love you, just marry me already?"

Her brother's and father's eyes goes wide as she finishes her sentance. Their gazes land behind Jill.

"I mean I wouldn't quite put it like that but it's a good place to start" you joke.

"Y/N I thought you were with my mum, Danae and the baby" Jill says whilst tears threaten to fall. She has spent all this time planning the proposal, she wanted to be a surprise and now it was ruined.

"Hey, don't worry" you sit her knee, wiping a tear as it fell.

"I wanted it to be perfect and-"

"and it will because it will be you and me, nothing else matters" you softly kiss her cheek.

"So you would say yes?" Jill asks.

At this point her family gathers around the table, eagerly awaiting your answer even though Jill hasn't officially proposed.

"Of course I would"

#ficlet #prompt request #Jill roord x reader #woso x reader #nedwnt x reader

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tsuy4n · 3 years ago

Note

Maybe some hatefucking with scara coul be possible? 👉👈

Warning/s: NSFW, [MDNI!!], Fem!reader, Bratty/bitchy attitude (reader), possessive Scaramouche, degradation, name calling, cursing, deep throating, face fucking, vaginal fingering, spanking, hair pulling just a little, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff at the end.

A/n: uhm, so are you the same person or do you both just share the same thoughts?? Nonetheless this request is just 🥴 and I’m really sorry for taking sooo long, anon(s) I’ve been trying to write this as best as my capabilities could since I didn’t really wanna disappoint you after waiting for so long and a lot of things are keeping me busy... oh, and last but not the least! Thank you for the request <3

“Oh, for the love of archons!” You shout, slamming the cup against the wooden table out of anger, earning several looks from the people inside the shop you’re at.

“I’m his goddamn secretary not his maid!” You heaved as the ginger head sitting across you only laughs at your non-stop complaints or just telling him how much you hated a certain harbinger you work with, specifically your boss.

A couple of hours ago when you’ve just started drinking as work finally ended for you, well not really when you still got something to do by your boss’ order. The reason why you were only made to get off work early was because he needed to go somewhere and the news made your inner self cheer as you could get away and not see his annoyingly charming face or hear his so called stupid voice for the rest of the remaining day.

“Don’t look so happy.” He harshly said, a scowl on his face as his voice snapped you out of your thoughts and focus on him again. “You may go home early but you still got some work to do. Write down the summary of every report that’s on my desk.” Your superior flashes you a smile. “Hand them to me tomorrow as soon as you arrive.”

And so, instead of just relaxing and letting this day finish here you are. Drinking as you fumed at the memory even though you should really be doing the task your boss assigned you. “Yeah, fuck him.” You whisper, taking a sip of your drink.

Now this is where Childe comes in. He was just passing by the streets of Snezhnaya earlier and his eyes just so happened caught sight of your familiar figure just by a glimpse outside through the window that was being cleaned.

The tall man chuckles and enters the place when saw how deep your frown was. He could even imagine the dark aura radiating from you after getting a closer look. Childe thinks it would be a great idea to scare you when you’re busy mumbling bad words that he thought you were saying some chants.

Long story short, he almost had his head bashed by a bottle of liquor if he didn’t had such a fast reflex.

“I can tolerate with arranging the papers, reading the reports to him out loud even though he can do that on his own, investigate things he wants me to poke into, etc. but!” You take a deep breath first,before continuing.

“Throw this out, Get me some tea, Get me some food, clean my office and leave no dust or else, Nye nye nye nye.” You recited, mimicking Scaramouche’s way of speaking along with how he acted at every order he gave you as you say it all out loud before running your fingers through your locks to grip it.

“Argh! And not to mention he once ordered me to put his sandals on him, which he fucking took off, by the way. What is he? A fucking baby?! Am I his nanny now?!He can’t do shit on his own!” You almost screeched out, brows as you hate the fact that you even find him attractive.

“What’re his arms and legs for?? Props?! I wanna punch his handsome face so fucking bad if it only looked so damn punchable!” Your voice went high pitched as Childe only hums and pours you another glass of liquor on your cup which you instantly drank in one go.

“If this continues on I’m afraid one day he might order me to roll on the fucking floor and make me act like a dog.” You blink. “Well, I am kind of dog but—whatever.” You sniffle, mouth opening wide when the red head takes a spoonful of your favorite food and feeds it to you.

“Oh~ you find him handsome, huh?” The male taunts then gasps ever so dramatically. “You must also like him. Of course you do!” He chirps, beaming a smile. “According to the gossips I hear from his underlings you two have this weird telepathy thing. You know what the other one is thinking without even saying it out loud, it’s amazing! Oh, and they even said that you two sometimes fight like a married couple.” The corner of your lips twitched.

“That’s a given as we’ve been working together for almost a year now. Not to mention, I’m sure I’ve shown my fair of share to everyone on how much I hate the man just like how everyone does.” you grumble under your breath while Childe notes the slight curl of your lips and the pink hue on your cheeks.

“Aren’t you a stubborn one.” He chuckles which made you tilt your head at his comment before saying, “But that’s not important as it seems that the lord haven’t given them enough tasks, considering that they had the time to even talk about irrelevant things.” You hum, a creepy smile now replacing the soft one just a while ago.

“I’ll have a discussion about this to him.” The ginger haired could say nothing but mutter an apology to the poor underlings who have no idea what’s in store for them but then again, he couldn’t help but to finally agree since he’s now definitely convinced that they’re soulmates due to the way how she smiled and spoke in such a sadistic manner.

“Honestly, if I could just choose who I want to work with. It’ll be you, but you don’t want a fucking secretary so lady Signora would be the last option.” You sigh before glaring daggers at your companion whose laugh just got a tad bit loud that it made a couple of people look your direction again which annoyed you even more.

You’ve known each other since toddlers that’s why you weren’t so afraid to land a hit on his shoulder nor talk about these things to him. You trust him.

“What about the others, though? Oh, how about dotto-” at this point The ginger head could see your veins showing and pulsating on your face making laugh even more. You think that maybe he’s gotten himself drunk or he just finally went crazy from how he laughed so hard at your remark. “We both know he’d be far more interested in having me as his guinea pig.” You grimaced at the beaming man.

“You’re enjoying this. You find pleasure in my pain and suffering. What did I expect from another commander harbinger.” Sighing with a blank face, you take another drink again. “Why are we friends again?” You ask, voice flat and void of emotion along with your expression.

“Because I’m awesome.” The male replied as he beams a smile. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Another sigh left your lips. “Stop sighing and thinking about work or him too much.” Childe comments, his hand reaching to ruffle your hair.

“Can’t help it. My boss which I am definitely sure loves to drive me crazy by giving me order after order.” You trailed off, shoulders slumping. “I’ve been thinking whether I should just quit this job and open a shop somewhere for a while now.” You rest your chin under the palm of your hand.

“And I’ve been also thinking of different scenarios on how I’m gonna tell him face to face that I quit being his secretary slash maid.” With a smirk on your face, you continue. “Like for example, throwing my resignation paper straight at his face.” You state, doing a little action by swinging your hand and imagining that it was happening for real.

“Yeah, he’ll kill you on the spot.” Childe says, chuckling at the cute demonstration you made as the smile on your face slowly fades away. “You think so as well?” Your fellow harbinger laughs for the nth time. “Well if it’s someone else, but it’s you, so he’ll let it slide, probably.”

You raise an eyebrow at what he meant when he specified if it was you at his sentence but thought of it as nothing when you noticed how the sky was now dark.

“What? Leaving already?” Childe ask when he saw you stand up from your seat. “Yeah. It’s getting late and I still have some damn work to do that needs to be finished and be handed tomorrow as soon as I arrive at his office which I am sure he’ll be there first.” You inform, a smile on your face despite still being angry, especially when you imagine that Scaramouche’s face will be the first thing you see as soon as you enter his office.

“Does he live there or what?” You mumble to yourself. “I find it it funny how you can’t mention Scaramouche’s name.” Childe quipped. “Because I believe bad luck will follow me if I do say that midget,” you pause as a snort came out.

“That little menace’s name.” You told him, you know like a liar. You call your boss’ name in secret when you’re home alone, wondering what he’s doing but it’s also not a lie that there’s a part of you that hates him.

Like how his annoying voice instantly has your attention and listening to every word he says while sneakily looking at his lips-

“Hi there, Scaramouche.” The red head greeted which immediately snapped you out of your thoughts and you freeze in your spot, bullets of sweat now trickling down your face despite being a little cold earlier.

“Good evening, my lord.” You also greet but in a more polite way with a beaming a smile and also acting as if you weren’t just bad mouthing the balladeer himself. That’s why you were praying so badly to your archon, the tsaritsa that he didn’t hear what you just said.

“You two sure do like to hang out a lot.” He murmured which left you wondering what he just said. “Seems like you’re already done here and about to head home.” Your superior states, obviously ignoring your friend who playfully pouted his lips and telling him how he was being mean.

“Well, yes…” you answered. “It’s already getting late and I need to finish the task you’ve given me before you left, my lord.” You add, voice fading away as you felt small like always in your boss’ presence and also at the way he stares, like he was staring straight into your very soul.

“So you haven’t even finished or started with it yet.” You look away, eyes looking everywhere but refuses to land where the Balladeer stands, though he was busy giving a look of disgust towards Childe who just continued to smile at him.

“Anyways, let’s go.” He motions his hand when he said those words while you glanced back and forth at him and Childe. “Pardon? Where exactly to, my lord?” You ask, face slightly tilted to the side as you start to ponder if you forgot something to do.

“Obviously to your house. I’m staying there until you finish writing those summaries. I need them.” He informs which you nodded your head in acknowledgment despite feeling how your heart started to beat so fast all of a sudden.

You’re nervous at the fact of being all alone with the man you hate. Yet you can’t help but look forward to it at the same time, hoping something might actually…happen- Alright! Snap out of it. The alcohol must be getting to you to even think of something like that!

“What’re you thinking about now?” Childe snaps you out of your stupid thought by flickering your forehead and glancing at Scaramouche by the corner of his eyes, his lips curled upwards in a taunting way which made the indigo haired to give him a disdainful look with cold and sharp eyes.

If looks could really kill, Childe would be long dead and lying on the floor for a while now. But that’s not happening! So he’s just gonna tease his fellow harbinger for a bit before he drags you away from him out of jealousy.

“You wanna die?” You hiss which only made him laugh. He sure does laughs a lot. The tall man rest his arm above your head. “Stop it. You’re messin’ my hair-”

“Stop making me wait and move your damn ass already.” Scaramouche glowered, your brow twitching at that as you refrained it from furrowing again. Though, the way he just spoke was so damn hot that it left you feeling…something.

Yeah, you’re really blaming this kind of thinking on the alcohol. Just what hell did you drink? Was it not normal liquor? Was it some type of drink to make you have some indecent thoughts?

Archons, why does Scaramouche look extra handsome today anyways— Okay, you’ve decided that you won’t be drinking again for a while.

“As you wish. But please wait for a second and let me just-” not being able to finish your words or even getting your wallet due to the sudden feeling of his touch, grabbing your wrist with the small sound of clicking his tounge, you already found yourself being dragged away after he sent a menacing look at his fellow harbinger commander and saying “Let him pay for that.”

You only sent the ginger head an apologetic look and before you could tell him that you’ll pay him back tomorrow. “That shitty ginger head.” Scaramouche’s says through clenched teeth, his grip on your wrist tightening when he recalled the way how flashed him that ugly smirk, how the way he could casually and so easily touch you while he himself hesitates to even do it and does his best to hold himself back.

You shouldn’t let other men touch you. Only he can do that.

You’re his the moment you entered the Military and worked by his side. You just don’t know it, yet that’s why he’s decided that day should be today, to officially claim you as his that is.

As the only thing he could do all these times were imagine scenarios in his head while you walk around his office, loving the way your hips sway that’s why he likes to order you around. He can’t help but also imagine how his hands would roam around your body, exploring, and touching it as you let him have his way on your perfect figure.

Scaramouche has always known you even before you’ve joined the organization because of Childe, so when he did learn about you joining in one day, he suddenly declared that he needed a secretary which led him into obviously choosing you but acted like he picked you out of random when he did so.

He refuses to acknowledge the feelings he caught for you, just like how you do, too. Yet as days goes by with you working side by side, his feelings just kept growing and growing that he’s been become impatient because no matter how much he tries to make you submit to him, you just wouldn’t budge.

He can’t even believe himself that he’s fallen so hard and that he has such lust for you. Thus begun the idea of whenever he starts to think that he’d finally claimed you as his, he’d bend you on his desk, make you scream for everyone to hear and know that you belong to him as he fucks you into oblivion resulting for him to get hard every damn time he thinks about it then would excuse himself next to somewhere just to jerk off.

Do you even have any idea how hard it was for him all these times? Just fucking his dick in his hand while imagining that it was your pussy he’s pounding into, yet here you are right now. Inside some pub, drinking with another man that’s definitely familiar.

The last thread of his patience had finally snapped when he saw you smiling and laughing with Childe, the so called stupid ginger head. It should be fine now. He’s gotten tired by solving the problem when you’re the one who should be doing it. Sucking his cock with those pretty lips wrapped around it, letting him use your pussy as his cumdump whenever he wants— damn, the things you make him feel and do.

Curse you, truly.

“Uhm, excuse me, my lord?” You spoke, breaking the silence that’s been going from the start after he dragged you out of the shop. It’s so cold that you could only feel the warmth on your wrist. You wish it was your whole body he was holding right now— Ah, really. The alcohol, especially him are both screwing with your mind by filling it with such indecent thoughts.

Curse him, truly.

His hand feels nice and warm, that’s what you think as Scaramouche still has his hand wrapped around your wrist and seems like he refuses to even let go, and thing is you want him to do that but at the same time no as you feel butterflies in your stomach.

“You should start looking for another secretary.” With the way how he looked at you it should he enough to shut you up and take the hint that he’s not taking your crap, but you’re feeling brave today.

“I am…” You hesitate for a moment, feeling like the decision you’re about to make was wrong that it made your stomach churn. “Planning on quitting and moving to Liyue to open a shop there.” Your words almost came out as a squeak when he pulled your arm, stopping you in front of the familiar door. You’ve already arrived without even noticing it.

“Open.” He commands, voice cold and sharp. It was just one word yet it made you feeling things again. Quickly unlocking the door with your key, Scaramouche’s harshly pulled you inside with him by your arm and shuts the door, earning a loud thud then slams you on the wall which made you hiss.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He says, his tone still the same while he has his hands gripping your shoulders. “I’m not letting you leave me.” Before you could even retort, Scaramouche beats you to it.

“You’re mine.” His words made your eyes wide and when you open your mouth to finally tell him to fuck off, nothing came out. They were stuck in your throat when you saw noticed how close his face was to yours.

It was inches away that your nose touched each other as you felt his hot breath warming your once cold cheeks and while also staring straight at your own with dark shaded eyes that it feels like he’d burn a hole in your face due to how fierce and sharp it looked.

“And did I hear that fucking right? Look for another secretary? It seems like you were ordering me around.” Finally snapping out of it, you manage to shoot him a glare.

“Really? It was but a mere suggestion, my lord.” Just when you could finally speak up again, one of his hands moved to grip your throat next due to the sarcastic remark you did.

“How brave of you to speak that way to me.” He hums, a deep chuckle coming from him. “But don’t test me, brat.” With a growl he warns in a dangerously low voice that made your heart beat fast as adrenaline coursed through you.

“Or what?” You challenged, leaning your face a bit with a taunting gaze, your eyes shifting to his lips that was pressed in a thin line before you went back to look straight at his mesmerizing indigo eyes, both of you now glaring at each other then the next you knew you were both kissing each other’s lips so hungrily.

Your hands now behind his back and gripping the fabric tightly while he has his on the back of your head to pull you in for an even deep kiss, the other on your waist, his hat was long gone and laid on your floor. Your tongues glide against each other, noses bumping one another as Scaramouche completely dominates over you that left your knees weak and trembling, along with how he made your breath stop.

“You’ll receive punishment, obviously.” He laughed into one of your ears, biting the shell of it which made you shiver while you pant and try to catch your breath. “You dare insult me and think you could just get away with it?” The hand behind your head went to grab your jaw in a swift and harsh manner.

“If you’re gonna fire me after your so called punishment then there’s no need to.” You whisper. “Because I quit.” The moment you said those words by finishing it with a snickering face, you know what you’re doing. It was nothing but a mere lie now and if what you’re thinking does happen then you want to stay even more, by his side.

“You can quit.” He began, face leaning in to whisper his next words. “But you can never,” his lips brushed the helix of your ear, tickling it. “Leave me.” You let out a sharp gasp when he suddenly went and bit your neck then immediately went back to kissing your lips. He can’t get enough.

Scaramouche’s hands starts to roam your body like how he always imagined and wished for the day to come which is now. His hands first goes to massage your mounds, already loving the feeling of how soft it is before lifted your shirt up along with the bra and pull away to suck one of the already hard nipples while his eyes never left yours so he could savor the expressions just by getting your tits suck off.

He couldn’t help but smirk quite devilishly when he found them cute. One of his hands went inside your pants. His fingers feeling the already damp fabric of your underwear.

Scaramouche chuckles while his fingers rubbed your clothed clit then he pulls away after one last lick and suck of your nipple with a loud wet pop which led you to mewl and shiver.

“You may act all high and mighty but in truth you’re just a slut that can’t wait to be stuffed full.” He mocked with a deep laugh before his tongue went to swipe across his lips.

“I bet you’ve been waiting for this day to come.” It was his turn to snicker when his hand finally went inside underwear. Two of his fingers running up and down on your wet folds so teasingly that it made you frown.

Though it only lasted for a moment when his other hand pinched your perked nipple. You jolt and bite your lips while he went back to your neck again, giving it soft kisses first then nibbling it next, bruising your neck and covering it with his marks even the open spots that would be hard to hide.

But that’s not his problem.

“Or maybe you had this planned all along. Were your fingers not enough to satisfy your greedy cunt.” He mused. “Were you imagining me fucking you as you played with your whorish pussy and coming undone, hm?” With quivering lips, you only glared at him as he smirked in triumph in return when he heard a small whimper.

“Answer me, slut.” Scaramouche rasped as he suddenly inserts two fingers inside making your body jolt again and him to catch your lips with his, kissing you for a moment while he pumps his fingers inside making tears to form by the corner of yours eyes.

“If you were so desperate to have your dirty pussy to be split in half, you should’ve said so sooner.” You swallow the lump in your throat and fought back the urge to moan.

“As if.” You managed to speak out in a gruff voice then adds. “The only thing I’ve been imagining is punching your face.” Scaramouche clenches his jaw, his eyes turning sharp and cold once again with irritation. He uses his vision to send sparks through his fingers when it went to play with your clit again.

“There’s no need hold back. Go on, come from my fingers and moan or scream like a bitch in heat.” He taunts then starts to pump his fingers, already going fast and harsh. The sudden action made you squeak then whimper as tears started to form by the corner of yours eyes.

“mmh..!” Oh, how cute did he find you like that. This is exactly how imagined you: eyes now doe like, body trembling and weak that you could only lean against his frame for support. His dick that was already hard ever since you both kissed could only twitch, throb, and form a wet patch on his shorts.

“Fff..fuck you- ahh!” Your back arched on the wall as you came while Scaramouche quickly inserted two fingers back in and pump it. He finally heard a loud moan from your pretty lips making his dick twitch again while he felt how your walls clenched around his fingers and wished that it was his cock instead, but he’s not worried about that as he’ll soon get what he wants.

Your chest kept rising up and down as you try to catch your breath. Scaramouche smirks at your adorable and sexy expression then takes his fingers out to lick and taste your glistening essence in a seductive way that made it hard for you to even look away.

“Oh, I’m about to.” He says, snapping you out of your trance and got caught of guard when you saw his how his dick slapped his abdomen and stood with all its glory after one of his hands swiftly slid his shorts down by his ankles.

“And believe me. I can’t wait.” He forced you down on your knees which made a small hiss slip out of your lips. You were soon then reminded that you were both still at the entrance of your house but should you be relieved that you were inside?

Your thoughts were caught off when Scaramouche grabbed your head and suddenly shoved his entire length inside your mouth all the way down to your throat. The gagging or chocking noises fell deaf upon his ears when he was too focused on how amazing your mouth felt that he almost came.

“Little, huh?” The man mutters under his breath, remembering your playful words earlier. You wanted to remind him that it was his height you were making fun of not his dick, because you weren’t even sure how big he was and could only imagine about it….which suddenly made you think that maybe the inches in his height were stolen by his dick.

“Don’t even think of biting.” He states, eyes shut tight as you could only stare at him, admire how pretty he was for a moment before deciding to neglect his warning and bite the tip lightly resulting for him to open his eyes, brows furrowed as he glared at you in a menacing way making you to look back with innocent eyes and pull away to lick the tip like a kitten.

“Fuck.” Scaramouche cursed under his breath, eyes half lidded now while you start to suck him off. You both made eye contact with each other and he smirks at you meaning that he’s up to something not good.

Your instincts were proved correct when he grabbed the sides of your head once again and slammed his hips, his dick going all the way again, too. You want to pull away but his grip was too strong compared to yours. Scaramouche’s thrusts were brutal and vicious against your mouth that it left you breathless and jaw hurt.

“Your mouth is most useful when it’s used like this, don’t you think?” You glared daggers at him which he responded with a smirk and a roll of his hips making him moan then with a couple more thrust, ropes of thick cum spurts inside your mouth, filling it white in a large amount that it even surprised you.

“Take it all and don’t let a single drop on the floor.” Scaramouche commands, his voice now hoarse. You huff but comply as you had no other choice but to do so, especially when his grip on your head hasn’t loosened.

He smiles at you and you could only feel your heart skip a beat while your cheeks heats up. You silently curse at him for making you flustered just by that stupid smile of his as his thumb rubs the apple your cheek in a circular motion.

“What a good girl.” His praise now made you feel butterflies in your stomach and when he pulled his dick away with a string of saliva, you suddenly gasped for air and was left a coughing mess now making you scowl at him as he just stood there with his lips curled up into a smirk, obviously smug.

“Are we done yet? If yes, could you please take your leave now, my lord?” After flashing him a smile, you stand up and walked towards the kitchen to get a glass of drink, ignoring the stinging pain of your legs while Scaramouche glared daggers at you, basically fuming at your attitude after all you both did.

Honestly, why are you such a bitch??

You felt his burning anger of course, along with how fast your heart is beating that you feel like it would just jump out of your chest. You couldn’t contain the silly smile on your face any longer when flashbacks started to play in your head, especially the way your boss smiled and how cute his moans sounded that you wish you could hear it again.

That’s why you’re hoping he would take this bait! he’s just so cute that you can’t help it despite the fact that you’re actually digging your own grave, but who cares? It’s gonna be worth it!

“I still have that work you need me to finish.” You were about to fix your clothes if it weren’t for the Balladeer suddenly grabbing your chin.

“We’re not done.” He said, voice dropping an octave as he laughs with a sadistic smile. “As it seems that you haven’t learned your lesson yet when you’re acting such a bitch.” Scaramouche tilts your head to the side so he could add another mark of his.

“Should you even be worrying about work right now?” It sounded like a threat from the way how he spoke but it made you press your thighs against each other. “Yeah, I think that should be the least of your worries.” You felt small yet turned on by how he gazed at you as if he was a predator that would gobble you up in a second, but you like the feeling nonetheless.

“I’m gonna fuck that cocky attitude out of you, fuckin’ brat.” In a deep voice he whispered against your ear then dragged you by your hand upstairs to your room and pushed you down on your stomach towards his lap after stripping you off of your clothes and letting them scatter on the staircase and floor along with his along the way.

“Agh!” You screamed at the sudden feeling of his palm hitting the ass of your cheek in a harsh way. “Hold still.” He hissed, landing another hit that made you whimper at the stinging pain.

“You like this don’t you.” He ridiculed, laughing at how you would whimper and tremble whenever his hand would strike to your now redden buttocks. “Look.” Scaramouche shows you his fingers that was glistening with your slick and dripping down his hand.

“What a fucking pervert.” The man laughs again. “Getting off by having your ass spanked. Don’t you think this just proves how much of a whore and disgusting pervert you are?” Grabbing a handful of your hair, he tugs it harshly.

“Nngh- fuckin’ asshole.” You snarled at him. Scaramouche clicks his tongue mutters under his breath a, “Such a pesky stubbornness you have.” Then pushes your head down on the mattress after taking you off of his lap.

“What was that?” Scaramouche jeers, a wicked smile on his feature. “Could you repeat your words one more time?” You scoffed at him while feeling his hand caressing the flesh of your ass before he took another hit.

“Looks like you haven’t been cleaning your ears for a while.” You sneered, clearly not learning a thing which definitely pissed the man off. “But I’ll repeat it for you, my lord.” With a mocking smile on your face you said.

“You-” the next thing that came out was a loud moan you couldn’t control when his hard member slowly but hard rubbed your clit. “Huh? Still couldn’t hear it.” He taunts, thrusting his hips a little.

“Come on, [Y/n].” Scaramouche aligns the tip on your entrance while his fingers went to play with your clit once again. “How can I understand you when you’re just moaning like a slut.” He hums, entering the wet tip of his hard shaft and stopping it at just that.

“You want it? You want me to shove my dick inside your cunt and stuff you full with my cum, hm?” He continues to put you on edge just by inserting the tip of his dick in and out. “Beg and apologize for being such a brat then I might just consider it.”

You bit your quivering lips and decided that it was time for you stop acting such a brat along with having your pride getting in the way just like always as you can’t hold back any longer and it seems that your boss also feels the same due to the heavy breathing noses coming from him and the way how he tightens his jaw with shaded eyes.

“My lord…” you whimpered, shaking your hips a little while you gazed at him by the corner of your eyes shyly but to Scaramouche, it looked so hot and lewd.

“I’m sorry for being such a brat! So please, please, please! Fuck me already! Please shove your dick inside my whorish pussy and fill me up!!” You sobbed which the male to clench his teeth and collect himself as he already felt like coming undone just by hearing those pleading and sobbing noises.

“So much for all the trouble you caused.” He clicked his tongue which made you mutter an apology again. “Fuckin’ pathetic.” Lifting your ass higher, his hands gripped your hips in a bruising way as he finally shoves his entire length inside all the way to the hilt with a guttural sound passing his lips.

“Ahh!” His dick finally scraping your walls felt so good that it made your eyes rolls to the back of your head. “What’s this? Did you just cum by having my dick shoved inside?” Scaramouche groans when he felt how tight your walls clenched around and suck his shaft.

“You’re more pathetic than I thought.” A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as he leans in to bite and suck the skin on your shoulder before pulling his member all the way out that the tip only remained and slammed back inside making you scream then babble how his dick felt so good.

“So tight for a goddamn whore.” The harbinger grabs both of your arms by the wrists and pulled it for leverage as he goes even deeper. You felt how his dick twitched inside meaning he was close but you were closer as his thrusts was just so brutal and vicious yet felt amazing. He felt your pussy flutter around his cock which earned a moan from him.

“Don’t you fucking cum yet.” He flips you on your back to get a good look at your expressions which just as expected were lewd. You were a moaning mess under him and he obviously enjoys every bit of it. “And don’t you fucking leave me.” Scaramouche’s thrust became erratic as you could only babble incoherent words while you drool.

“You got that?” He grunts. “You, can’t, leave, me.” With each other word he the balladeer spoke, his thrust followed it harshly. “Damn it- haa, I’m close.” You pull him close to you, chest flushed against each other while your nails scratched his sweating back.

“My lord, Scara- nngh. Scaramouche!” You chant and moan, already far gone as your brain was clouded in absolute bliss and could only focus how his dick went in and out, scrapping your walls so deliciously but Scaramouche heard half of his name being mentioned as it made his heart flutter.

“That’s right.” He grins. “Moan my name, [Y/n].” You do exactly what he says and called his name over and over as if you were chanting. You don’t know how long has he been waiting for you to call his name and you call him just Scara sounded so adorable that it finally made him cum with one last hard thrust.

Feeling his hot semen filling your velvety walls into white, your eyes rolled to back of your head once again, your back arching as you also come undone while being filled up. The pleasure was too much for you to handle that it made you see white dots before everything became dark. You passed out.

When the next morning came, you woke up and felt your whole body ache. You notice the person beside you sleeping so peacefully and looking pretty as ever.

“What are you staring for?” You shrieked and felt your heart almost yeet itself out of your chest. “Good morning…my lord.” You hesitated, cheeks turning red while he sits up and stares at you.

“What’re you getting all formal for? Last night you were just screaming my name over and o-“ you put a hand over his mouth which made him glare at you but replace it with a smirk.

“There’s no need to get shy now.” He said, kissing your palm making you pull away as Scaramouche enjoys your flustered expression.

“A-Anyways! I’m obviously not quitting since you did told me to stay by your side..forever.” You cough, noticing the pink hue appearing on his cheeks. “I’m gonna work with you as long as you want me to, so I ask for a pay raise!” The man stared at you with one of his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, whatever.” You beam a smile and lean in to plant a kiss on his lips. “Let me just take a quick bath before we head to work, okay?” Before you could even stand up, Scaramouche grabs your hand and pulls you back in with him on the bed. Your back pressed against his chest and completely unaware of how red his face became due to a simple kiss.

“No one would dare complain about us being late, so let’s stay still for a bit.” He mumbles. The shock on your face of the male being uncharacteristically soft disappeared as a genuine smile replaced it.

“Just so we’re clear, I meant it when I said that you’ll be by my side forever.” You nod your head and turned around to wrap your arms around and bury you face in his chest which left his body going stiff but relaxes soon under your touch.

“Don’t go back on your words because I may not look like it, I’m actually quite clingy.” You whisper, still oblivious to the fact of how red his cheeks were just like yours.

“Shut up and go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up in bit.” You giggle and let the darkness consume you, but before completely falling asleep you say softly.

“I’m so happy that my dream came true…I love you Scara.” He scoffs first before glancing at you and letting out a small cough.

“I…love you too.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche x reader #reader insert #genshin impact x female reader #female reader

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Note

the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

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kiatheinsomniac · 2 years ago

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ok hear me out, could you do a fic with god au edward where the reader is a pirate who gets injured during a sea battle and he finds them?

GODS AU

notes: it was so much fun to write a solo piece for Edward in this AU! I also want you all to know how much I hate maths but I did it just to figure out what God! Edward's height would be

pairing: God! Edward x Reader

word count: 2.3k

☾ ⋆ﾟ MASTERLIST / RULES / TAGLIST FORM

Ápeira Aquae (infinite waters)

Realm of the Gods of the water. It is an endless ocean, dotted by lush islands, one of which is a forest unlike the others which contains a hidden gateway to another Godly realm. The Gods here have their own island(s) and ship(s).

Kingdom of Pirates

Edward: God of parties (also drinking and riches)

The waves continued to lap around the little piece of wreckage that you clung to. The sun beat down on you mercilessly and you were sick and tired of the salt water splashing in your eyes.

Your ship had been ambushed by the royal navy, your vessel sunk and, as far as you were aware, all your crew dead. You had been beyond lucky to escape with your life and you liked to think that some God was smiling down on you. Was there a pirate God? It must be one of those who lived in Ápeira Aquae, though you couldn’t quite recall a particular name. You had never been much of a religious person, more concerned about what was going to put food on the table or money in your pocket. You continued to slowly kick your legs in the water to help keep you afloat and dropped your head, the sun’s rays feeling so harsh.

And then they were gone.

You looked up to realise that you were in the shadow of the biggest ship you had ever seen. Surenly, it couldn’t have been a pirate ship and you wondered if it was the navy, coming back to finish the job, but a rope ladder was tossed down to you and, between dying out at sea like this and the navy, you’d take your chances after so many hours in the water already.

You clambered out of the water and flopped onto the deck, closing your eyes against the sun that suddenly seemed so much more pleasant than it had been before. It shone, yes, but it didn’t hurt your eyes, nor did it burn your skin.

You opened your eyes, expecting to have to squint them against the sun but the light was… pleasant, nothing like what you were familiar with. Sitting up, you were surrounded by pittering sounds as your clothes dripped onto the deck beneath you and you looked around to find no one. Where was the crew? Who had thrown the ladder down for you?

Getting up to your feet, you took out your flintlock and scowled at how utterly soaked it was. Useless. Instead, you drew your sword, the blade singing as you sliced it through the air, eyeing the door that led to where the Captain’s quarters should be located.

The door was huge, immensely so for a ship, and you leaned towards it only to hear quiet singing from the other side, a man’s voice, the words slightly slurred. Stepping back, you went to kick in the door but found both that you were weaker than you thought and it was heavier than you thought.

“Now!” A voice called from inside, “That’s no way to say thank you!” Your eyes widened and you took a few more steps back as footsteps approached the door. When it opened, you were sure you looked like a fish with how your jaw dropped. He was insanely tall! 7’2 or 213 cm. His shirt was hanging open, revealing an insanely defined chest, kissed by the sun into a rich tan and covered in tattoos. His hair was blonde and long, hanging around his face loosely. He had a bottle of rum in one hand and a sword and pistols at his hips.

“You threw the ladder down to me?” You raised a brow sceptically. Were you still in the ocean? Was this an elaborate hallucination?

“Yes! This is my ship!” He nodded his head exaggeratedly in his drunkenness, gesturing around the empty vessel.

“Where’s your crew?” He burst out laughing as though the answer to your question was the most obvious thing in the world and got even closer to you, completely unphased by your sword which he simply pushed to the side, leaning down a little to rest his hand on your shoulder.

“She doesn’t need one. She runs herself.” Yeah, this guy had way too much to drink.

“A ship that runs itself…” You looked around, sure that there must be a crew around here somewhere but the boat suddenly rocked as though a storm were brewing and the sunshine seemed dimmer, though no clouds dappled the sky.

“Do you doubt me, mortal?” His blue eyes narrowed as he leaned down to better match your height, looming over you. You had suspected being drunk before but now you were leaning more towards madness. Who’s damned ship had you got on?

“What are you, like, a God?” You sheathed your sword as he was so seemingly unbothered by it, folding your arms over your chest instead as you looked up at him.

“Aye, I am.” He replied and you deadpanned before covering your eyes with your hand, taking a deep breath. How the hell was this guy alive and running a ship without a crew? Why was he so tall? Where the hell were you? And what on Earth made him believe that he’s a God?

Then again, you know of Gods such as Altaïr and Maria who were said to be far taller than the average human… He couldn’t actually be��?

“Alright, let’s say you are a God.” You began, wondering if you would get anywhere by playing his game, “Of what?” A grin split his face and he gestured around his ship as though it were some grand forgotten tomb of renowned emperors.

“Of parties, drinking and riches.” You looked around the ship dramatically.

“Well, I see you have one of those three things down.”

“You do not believe me.”

“I have no reason to. I have never heard of a God of parties, drinking and riches.” You huffed.

“I am Edward Kenway.”

“Like Ratonhnhaké;ton Kenway?” Aside from not being a religious person, you had uttered a few desperate prayers to the God when you were out on a desperate hunt that was beginning to look fruitless.

“Aye, my grandson.” Your eyes widened for a moment. The thought alone was terrifying. The God of nature, hunting and vengeance could be as ruthless as he could be tender, as you have heard, so you could only imagine what his grandfather could be like–

No! This man standing before you was a drunkard, not a God.

“Sure~” You drawled out, “I think I’m going to need some proof.”

“You’re in the Ápeira Aquae, the realm of waters, is that not proof enough?” With those words something clicked. The way the sun was so much more pleasant, how the sea was calmer, how this colossal ship had appeared out of nowhere with not a single crewmember in sight. He flicked his wrist in your direction, his eyes going past you, and you found that the ship was docking itself on a lush island. You could just about make out pillars poking out through the tree canopy just off in the distance.

“You really are a God.” You breathed out as a plank laid itself out between the ship and dock. He let out a hearty laugh as he disembarked from the ship and held out a hand to you as you followed him.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” He grinned, “But we have something important to discuss. I may be a God but my power isn’t unlimited and omnipotent. We watch over things as we please, what we wish to observe and when and we do have to make an effort to travel somewhere.” The two of you began tracking through a sandy trail into the forest. The branches seemed to curve and twist into extravagant arches, jars full of glowing moths hanging from them and illuminating the way under the thick tree canopy with a soft, other-worldly glow.

He led you along that trail until you came across a large wooden mansion. Many of the trees surrounded it, seemingly forging the building. Some of the pillars were shadowed by trees growing out of the roof and you could just about make out where you saw windows carved into the large trunks, balconies like watchtowers. Lanterns hung from these branches and from around the wrap-around patio of the home and you marvelled at the grandeur of it. You had never seen anything so extravagant and it was as though it were forced by man and nature together.

He led you inside and you couldn’t help but spin slowly as you walked, taking everything in. Golden sunlight filtered in through skylights and more of those lanterns were hanging around, the colours pulsing softly and slowly changing. There were chests scattered around the place, overflowing with gold, pearls and jewels. Many maps were rolled up and scattered around and much of the furniture was decorated with a golden sheen.

Edward led you to an office of sorts where he gestured for you to sit in a plush seat of dark green leather while he went over to a liquor cabinet. He poured two glasses of whisky, one much more generously than the other and joined you in the opposite chair, pushing the lesser filled glass towards you. You thanked him quickly as you accepted it.

“So, what’s this problem you’re facing?” You asked as you took a sip, feeling the drink warm you and pleasantly burn your throat.

“People are forgetting about me which is a big problem for a God.” He began, tagging a large swig, “Our power comes from the praise and worship we receive. It’s why Gods like Altaïr and Maria remain as powerful as they are: people look up to the Sun or Moon and remember them, remember to worship them and they always maintain the power to keep them moving in the sky. You didn’t believe me when I told you that I’m a God and, usually, I’d make some big gesture to prove you wrong but I’m not as strong as I used to be, I only had the power to keep the ship going.” He explained.

“So where do I come into this?” You raised a brow, leaning back comfortably in the soft chair. He grinned.

“You’re going to be my preacher.” He replied, “You’re a pirate, a good one, I watched that last battle and you stood your ground until the very end. You had every odd stacked against you and it was miraculous that your crew even lasted as long as they did. I made sure that you got out alive, I had the current carry you away from those navy ships. I’ve always favoured pirates because you live life as I see fit and you partake in all that I embody. I’m going to make you the next Queen of the pirate world and all that I ask in exchange is that you get people to worship me again, build a few temples in my name, perhaps. All who worship me will prosper and so your nation will grow rich and powerful. What do you say?”

“I’d say you’re crazy if I weren’t sitting around having a drink with a God.” You laughed and he joined in, “But how do I know this is doable? Like you said, you’re weak at the moment. How can you support my rise to Queendom?”

“When you start worshipping me, I’ll gain more strength and power.” He stood up and went over to a bookshelf that was haphazardly stacked with books and maps with seemingly no rhyme or reason to how they were placed. He came back with a blue book that was covered in intricately detailed gold embellishments. The pages were held closed by metal brackets on the side of the book. “This contains everything that I will accept as an offering.” You frowned slightly as you turned the book in your hands.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re in a position to be fussy about what people give you.” You commented.

“That’s not how it works. If I don’t like an offering, I can’t take anything from it. It’s the same as if people pray to me just asking for things without giving any gratitude in return, I won’t lift a finger to grant what they want because I’m being offered no source of strength to do so. Do you understand?” You nodded your head but there were still many questions you had on the subject and how it all worked. You decided that there was probably always some incomprehensible element to Gods and you wouldn’t understand either way, most likely. “I also have something to help you when you return to your world.” He went over to the fireplace where a golden cutlass was displayed on the wall above the mantle and beneath a portrait of him at the wheel of his ship. He handed it to you and your eyes widened as you took it from him. It wasn’t actually made of gold, that much you could tell from the weight of it. “This was forged in the volcano of one of the islands here in Ápeira Aquae, infused with mana. It will enhance your senses, grant you more stamina and cause any sickness or injury you face to heal faster. Use it to build a Kingdom of pirates.” You let out a long whistle as you stood to your feet, slicing the blade through the air. It felt like an extension of your body, like a piece that had been missing for aeons and was only now being returned to its rightful place in the world.

“I will.” You spoke with conviction and he guided you back to your chair.

“Come, finish your drink and I’ll return you to your world.” You gladly did so, sheathing the sword at your hip in place of your last cutlass, far inferior to this godly weapon.

You were unsure of when you had fallen asleep, if you had even finished the drink, but you soon woke up, spluttering on a beach, fingers digging into the sand. The sun was harsh once more and you crawled your way across the beach and into the shade of the nearby treeline. What a weird dream. But what if it wasn’t?

You glanced down to your hip to find that you were, indeed, carrying the powerful weapon gifted to you by the God of parties, drinking and riches. You really had entered a realm of the Gods. You shakily got to your feet, supporting yourself on a tree trunk.

You had a kingdom to forge.

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#edward kenway imagine #edward kenway #edward kenway x reader #edward #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed fanfic #assassins creed 4 #assassins creed black flag #gods au #God! Edward Kenway

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